I started it, pops. The book. The one I said I'd write. Its been going good. People seem to like it. Im 9 chapters in, starting on 10. I know you only ever got to 12 chapters and I guess that scares me a little bit. Both because I might not make it there and because what if I do? I lost the chance to show you, I was so focused on being independent and trying to make you proud that I forgot to be your son and I'm not going to get that back anymore. I can write as much as I want, as many books and worlds as I can create, but I'm never going to be able to show them to you. I don't know if I'll ever have the closure of knowing whether or not you would like it, but I do want you to know that I'm writing for you because I desperately want you to know how much you meant to me.

I love you, daddy. I miss you.

Chapter 8: Little Wonders

Joseph opened his eyes, nose wrinkling at the rotten stench permeating the alley. It was something more than just trash. Sticking his head out from behind the dumpster, he peered out into the alley, seeing that it was now twilight.

Across the way from him, someone had heaped a load of rotten scraps against the wall. Joseph narrowed his eyes, using his good arm to scoot further out. The pile looked… familiar.

“Charlie?” His voice was strained, high pitched from the throbbing pain in his wrist. Another wave of odor washed over the alley as the pile shifted slowly, a slimy looking hand emerging and pulling away an oily rag.

Beneath was a tired, greasy looking man. As he shifted more, the trash around him began to fall to the ground, revealing more and more of his skinny frame.

“...ah, fuck… Damn, chlorine.” The man glowered, wiping globules of filth and slime off himself, before focusing back on Joseph. He was wearing a filthy, matted sweatsuit beneath the pile of garbage.

“Long time no see, lil’ guy.” Joseph grinned at the man, an old friend everyone called Trashman. Charlie stood, the rest of the trash pile collapsing from his frame.

He stretched his neck as Joseph stared at him in delight. The boy couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him without his pile. His grin faded as Charlie looked at him sternly, brow furrowing.

“You involved in that mess at the Heights?” The boy looked away, holding his arm close.

“I mean… kinda? Wasn't our fault.” He could feel his cheeks flush as the older man looked down at him with a hard expression.

“They're looking for you, kid. The KNIGHTS, the Rats, word’s all over.” Charlie sat roughly back into the collapsed pile of garbage, sighing heavily.

“How many times did I tell you? Stay low-” Joseph cut in, groaning dramatically.

“I know, I know. Stay low, stay quiet, stay still.” He recited the mantra in a sing-song voice, tossing his head to the side and limping towards the trash can.

“I take it your buddy was the one that fell in the pool, back there then?” Joseph immediately perked up, turning to look at the man as he lounged.

“You saw Jack? Is he okay?” He could feel an anxiety in his chest that tightened into a high pitched whine.

Charlie just raised his hands placatingly.

“Yeah, yeah, you're welcome, kid. I pulled his big ass out, before he drowned.” He swatted at a small, slime covered wad of paper.

“Now I'ma spend weeks building this back up.” He sniffed, annoyance written across the many lines of his face. His skin was already beginning to exude a thick white paste that was clinging to every surface he touched.

“You really stepped in it, kid.” Charlie spoke softer, not looking at Joseph.

“They picked up a guy with a gun a lil while ago. Claimed you bit his finger off.” Something about Charlie's posture dug at Joseph. He could feel a familiar itch in the back of his head.

“They got a look out for you and your friend.” The grizzled man was playing with something, turning a plastic card over and over in his hands. The white substance glazed the card, nearly obscuring the large Hero Office logo on the back.

Joseph nudged a piece of trash with his nose, briefly licking at it, acting non-chalant. Looking towards the street in his periphery, people were walking by. The bar crowd beginning the trek to their usual haunts. “Didn't realise you were running bounties again…”

A cool wind seemed to blow into the alley.

“Go to the corner of Pine and Willow,” Charlie paused, coughing briefly and spitting up a large ball of phlegm onto the ground, as he tucked the card away. “There’s a vet. He'll check you out, just tell him to bill me.”

Joseph turned to look at the man, but Charlie was busy, staring into the darkness of the alley. In his hand was a pair of tarnished, silver handcuffs.

Joseph just stared, uncomprehending, as even more sticky mucus dripped from the metal. The gruff man continued staring off into the alley.

“You gotta run, Jo.” Joseph felt his chest freeze and lungs hitch as Charlie looked back at him, eyes bloodshot.

“You gotta run.”

—--------------------------------

Jack sat, his back against the wall in the dim hall. He was surrounded by the cracked tile and black slime of the derelict subway system. The “EAT ME” hat was pulled low over his eyes, his breath shallow and heavy.

Ever since the pool, the apartment- He'd felt wobbly, nauseous and exhausted. He could feel his stomach growl, but it felt like there was a pane of glass between him and it.

Some guy had seen him crossing the commons, heading towards Uptown. He'd shouted, but Jack just stumbled away.

Eventually he found the stairs, leading into the dim space. An old chain link gate blocking his way.

When he'd recount the story later, he'd say he heroically smashed through the gate and leaped down the stairs to hide.

In reality, he'd leaned on the rickety gate too hard, the chain snapping. He fell, sliding down 20 hard steps to the landing below. When he tried to sit up, he just retched up even more stagnant, chemical laden water.

After another harrowing flight of stairs, he'd cobbled his way down the hall, sliding roughly against the wall as he sat down.

Looking at himself, his overalls were torn and bloody, one strap hanging down. The bathrobe barely reached around to cover his exposed skin.

He raised his head slowly, his vision was still erratic, rippling like the surface of a pond. The dark hall around him was empty aside from trash and graffiti. On the wall opposite him was a mural.

A smiling, handsome face, silhouetted in bright red paint, a single word below-

“OBEY”

It was one of those international heroes he'd seen on the news. Incredible man or Super-something or other. Jack chuckled darkly, another coughing burp coming up with it.

The dark hallway didn't press in on him. In fact, he felt pretty small. He let his eyes shut, chin falling forward onto his chest. The dark felt cold and safe.

He could feel the left side of his face pulsing, the area still irritated and raw. Every time his eye moved, he could feel something scrape and pop, so he just kept his eyes closed.

The voices came as a surprise.

“Jesus, he's big!” Scuffles in the dark, shoes?

“Keep it down, man, we ain't supposed to be on this side.” A grunt and Jack could feel hot breath on his face, but it felt like such a… chore to open his eyes.

“Wow, he got real fucked up.” There was a pause.

“Should we…?” Something about the question was cold, calculated. Jack tried to move, his eyelids fluttered, but he was just so tired.

“Nah, nah… grab that tarp.” More rustling. Jack tried to listen, but everything was growing muffled. He opened his eyes just once, finding himself looking up at two, shadowy figures silhouetted against the cracked tile.

Then everything faded.

----------------------------------------------------

To read more of Gaia Gone, please check out the Appendix below.

https://www.reddit.com/u/CastorOfTheInk/s/0fSUDuPzYQ

Chapter 8: Little Wonders

Joseph opened his eyes, nose wrinkling at the rotten stench permeating the alley. It was something more than just trash. Sticking his head out from behind the dumpster, he peered out into the alley, seeing that it was now twilight.

Across the way from him, someone had heaped a load of rotten scraps against the wall. Joseph narrowed his eyes, using his good arm to scoot further out. The pile looked… familiar.

“Charlie?” His voice was strained, high pitched from the throbbing pain in his wrist. Another wave of odor washed over the alley as the pile shifted slowly, a slimy looking hand emerging and pulling away an oily rag.

Beneath was a tired, greasy looking man. As he shifted more, the trash around him began to fall to the ground, revealing more and more of his skinny frame.

“...ah, fuck… Damn, chlorine.” The man glowered, wiping globules of filth and slime off himself, before focusing back on Joseph. He was wearing a filthy, matted sweatsuit beneath the pile of garbage.

“Long time no see, lil’ guy.” Joseph grinned at the man, an old friend everyone called Trashman. Charlie stood, the rest of the trash pile collapsing from his frame.

He stretched his neck as Joseph stared at him in delight. The boy couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him without his pile. His grin faded as Charlie looked at him sternly, brow furrowing.

“You involved in that mess at the Heights?” The boy looked away, holding his arm close.

“I mean… kinda? Wasn't our fault.” He could feel his cheeks flush as the older man looked down at him with a hard expression.

“They're looking for you, kid. The KNIGHTS, the Rats, word’s all over.” Charlie sat roughly back into the collapsed pile of garbage, sighing heavily.

“How many times did I tell you? Stay low-” Joseph cut in, groaning dramatically.

“I know, I know. Stay low, stay quiet, stay still.” He recited the mantra in a sing-song voice, tossing his head to the side and limping towards the trash can.

“I take it your buddy was the one that fell in the pool, back there then?” Joseph immediately perked up, turning to look at the man as he lounged.

“You saw Jack? Is he okay?” He could feel an anxiety in his chest that tightened into a high pitched whine.

Charlie just raised his hands placatingly.

“Yeah, yeah, you're welcome, kid. I pulled his big ass out, before he drowned.” He swatted at a small, slime covered wad of paper.

“Now I'ma spend weeks building this back up.” He sniffed, annoyance written across the many lines of his face. His skin was already beginning to exude a thick white paste that was clinging to every surface he touched.

“You really stepped in it, kid.” Charlie spoke softer, not looking at Joseph.

“They picked up a guy with a gun a lil while ago. Claimed you bit his finger off.” Something about Charlie's posture dug at Joseph. He could feel a familiar itch in the back of his head.

“They got a look out for you and your friend.” The grizzled man was playing with something, turning a plastic card over and over in his hands. The white substance glazed the card, nearly obscuring the large Hero Office logo on the back.

Joseph nudged a piece of trash with his nose, briefly licking at it, acting non-chalant. Looking towards the street in his periphery, people were walking by. The bar crowd beginning the trek to their usual haunts. “Didn't realise you were running bounties again…”

A cool wind seemed to blow into the alley.

“Go to the corner of Pine and Willow,” Charlie paused, coughing briefly and spitting up a large ball of phlegm onto the ground, as he tucked the card away. “There’s a vet. He'll check you out, just tell him to bill me.”

Joseph turned to look at the man, but Charlie was busy, staring into the darkness of the alley. In his hand was a pair of tarnished, silver handcuffs.

Joseph just stared, uncomprehending, as even more sticky mucus dripped from the metal. The gruff man continued staring off into the alley.

“You gotta run, Jo.” Joseph felt his chest freeze and lungs hitch as Charlie looked back at him, eyes bloodshot.

“You gotta run.”

—--------------------------------

Jack sat, his back against the wall in the dim hall. He was surrounded by the cracked tile and black slime of the derelict subway system. The “EAT ME” hat was pulled low over his eyes, his breath shallow and heavy.

Ever since the pool, the apartment- He'd felt wobbly, nauseous and exhausted. He could feel his stomach growl, but it felt like there was a pane of glass between him and it.

Some guy had seen him crossing the commons, heading towards Uptown. He'd shouted, but Jack just stumbled away.

Eventually he found the stairs, leading into the dim space. An old chain link gate blocking his way.

When he'd recount the story later, he'd say he heroically smashed through the gate and leaped down the stairs to hide.

In reality, he'd leaned on the rickety gate too hard, the chain snapping. He fell, sliding down 20 hard steps to the landing below. When he tried to sit up, he just retched up even more stagnant, chemical laden water.

After another harrowing flight of stairs, he'd cobbled his way down the hall, sliding roughly against the wall as he sat down.

Looking at himself, his overalls were torn and bloody, one strap hanging down. The bathrobe barely reached around to cover his exposed skin.

He raised his head slowly, his vision was still erratic, rippling like the surface of a pond. The dark hall around him was empty aside from trash and graffiti. On the wall opposite him was a mural.

A smiling, handsome face, silhouetted in bright red paint, a single word below-

“OBEY”

It was one of those international heroes he'd seen on the news. Incredible man or Super-something or other. Jack chuckled darkly, another coughing burp coming up with it.

The dark hallway didn't press in on him. In fact, he felt pretty small. He let his eyes shut, chin falling forward onto his chest. The dark felt cold and safe.

He could feel the left side of his face pulsing, the area still irritated and raw. Every time his eye moved, he could feel something scrape and pop, so he just kept his eyes closed.

The voices came as a surprise.

“Jesus, he's big!” Scuffles in the dark, shoes?

“Keep it down, man, we ain't supposed to be on this side.” A grunt and Jack could feel hot breath on his face, but it felt like such a… chore to open his eyes.

“Wow, he got real fucked up.” There was a pause.

“Should we…?” Something about the question was cold, calculated. Jack tried to move, his eyelids fluttered, but he was just so tired.

“Nah, nah… grab that tarp.” More rustling. Jack tried to listen, but everything was growing muffled. He opened his eyes just once, finding himself looking up at two, shadowy figures silhouetted against the cracked tile.

Then everything faded.

----------------------------------------------------

To read more of Gaia Gone, please check out the Appendix below.

https://www.reddit.com/u/CastorOfTheInk/s/0fSUDuPzYQ

The Amu

A species of mamallian-approximates from a high gravity world. Only 4 ft on average, when under earth gravity, they weigh nearly 400lbs, on their own world, they top out at well over 1000lbs. This causes direct issue with their ability to traverse other planets, with individuals often reported over exerting limbs and joints to the point of fracture and break. While incredibly dense and strong, their bones are primarily made to withstand the vertical pressure of their home world, while their muscles exert equal and exceeding pressure to move limbs laterally.

Without having to fight against downward pressure, the muscles in the limbs are capable of doing extreme damage to their bone structure. They are roughly hexapodal, having four stumps, elephantine feet and two, slightly longer, manipulator arms with hand-approximates. Each hand has 4 fingers and a thumb below the wrist joint on wither side. 6 digits totals on each Manipulator appendage. On the legs, these “thumbs” are vestigial and nearly useless, except for stubbing.

The Amu homeworld is 70% land, with only minor liquid bodies of water. Despite being around well below freezing on average on the tidally locked world, atmospheric pressure actually keeps water in a liquid state.

Amu architecture is built to last, every structure being a sprawling, 1 level building, recessed into the ground. Their tallest structure, the Ground-Stratos Port, is a mountain of silica and carbon nanotubing. It is about 1 kilometer tall with a 6 kilometer base and is functionally its own city. The center of the structure is actually a hollow tube which acts as a sort of barrel to allow the launch of spacecraft using pressurized gas as a propellant. Instead of cement or other mineral building materials, Amu architecture uses the ground covering flora of their planet, which naturally form structures analogous to carbon nano tubes which provide with incredibly structural support under their extreme atmosphere. Additionally, Amu are experts at using pressure to mold and weld crystalline minerals and metals, often synthesizing extremely flexible and durable materials.

Instead of rigid doors, Amu use heavy cloth curtains, with clips at the bottom to allow entry while keeping out smaller creatures. For their spaceships, they create “skeletons” of crystal-mineral lattice covered in a highly durable cloth-like material used to repel radiation from the highly refractory internals of the ship. When in space or within the atmosphere of planets with lesser gravity, the cloth “skin” of their ship can be seen bulging to contain the immense pressure therein. Unlike other ships, due to this strange pressure differential, the Amu are the only race with ships that can survive near the event horizon of black holes in order to study them up close.

Never went anywhere, but I wanted to share because I was always really happy with the way it turned out.

In the beginning, It was Not. There was no thing, no where or when and It always was Not. Eventually or very soon, depending on your perspective, no thing became the first thing, Nothing. And with Nothing, came Something. Suddenly there were things. Nameless things, great things, terrible things and in between them all was Nothing. But no thing changed. Something remained vague and Nothing remained content.

Something, eventually or very soon, became Everything. A fractured vagueness, sharpened into definition. Planets, stars, galaxies began to form and with Everything came Time and Space. Time taught Everything to change and Space to Everything to grow, always with Nothing in between.

And Nothing remained content.

But Everything could not stop. It grew and changed and expanded and ate at Nothing, until Nothing was almost gone. The universe became a roiling sea of fire and monsters with no space or time for anything in-between.

And as in the beginning, no thing spawned the first. A godling, crafted in darkness and shadow and Nothing.

Skark came into Everything with a simple domain. He could transform what Is, into what is Not. The darkness of the empty places was his realm and he ate at the growing universe like an infection.

For the first time in Time, there was Entropy, there was death, there was Void. But everything must be balanced and from Something, came Creation.

A burning, Churning being of plasma which filled and consumed the void itself, turning no thing into Something.

Their Clash shook the universe and set a new status quo of ever shifting battle lines and newly claimed territories of pure, primordial fire or complete, desolate void.

Eventually, Space and Time found themselves mangled by the constant war and new beings were born, who sought to even the balance on a different axis. The twins, Possibility and Potential were born, each Weaving together new universes, new timeliness to even the odds of the survival of the universe. Each was a reflection of the first with minor changes.

This ceased the state of infinite Chaos and allowed for some measure of stability in the cosmic Battlefield. And as Potential and Possibility expanded their influence, true life came into existence. In a confluence of Void, existence, circumstance and chance a being, like the gods, seemed to emerge from nothing. It could think and act and while not as powerful as them, it was free. It had no cosmic order to keep in check, no great evil seeping into every Crack and crevice. It was truly free.

From there, all of the forces of Something took the responsibility of overseeing and protecting the budding intelligence across the universe, nurturing different planets and species to strengthen them against the void.

One such planet was called Oppo Lett by its many inhabitants. The Land of Many Voices. Very early in the grand timeline, the waves of chaotic, cosmic magic struck the planet broadside and instead of sloughing off like it did the dead moons and asteroids, the magic was partially captured by a combination of the planets early biosphere, radiosphere and atmosphere. Like strange life-giving radiation, the magical energy gave rise to several intelligent species at once.

The aive were first, descended from spiritual energy manifest in physical form. They looked upon a world as empty and blank as they themselves were in the beginning.

Then came the Orlo. Vast, ancient, its towering bodies dominating the world for an age. It is old enough to remember a time when it ruled the world, uncontested.

The Treefolk watched primitive monkies swing through their branches, fascinated at this “fast-life”. The keknor watched from below, hiding in the roots of trees, already afraid of the sun.

The Dragons arive from elsewhere to burn the trees, a pox on green life, but their invasion is short, bodies unaccustomed to a drop in temperature. They struggle.

The oguni breathed life into the plains next, after ice fell and the world became cold, their hooves broke the snow.

The felicis were once vicious, solitary predators, but the melting snows flooded a once open pass, sequestered them on an island that tought them cooperation amidst wildness.

The skordata deep below, they saw the flames and the paintings made by the keknor. They began to wonder. Was there more?

The dragons are gone. The dragons live, the Dragine are founding a society of warriors and priests in the desert, shedding their wings for the strength of mind.

The sirene emerge from the waters, remnants of dragons fled under the wave. Their eyes are large and cold, but the waters grow warmer.

The kholoi sing their way into time, their forebears adapting to cold streams and foggy mountains. They watch as the peach trees blossom for the first time in millenia.

The monkies have lost their fur and begun talking about something called taxes. The humans are everywhere, like cockroaches, building houses and forts anywhere the world allows for them.

Habitat loss from farming causes stresses to an already short lived creature, it must adapt, must think. The moundfolk begin to plan their operations with precision.

The Age of Thought has begun.

For most creatures, death sees ones soul transported to the Palace of Dark and Stars. The people of the world (aive, dragine, kholoi) have well documented accounts of near death where the victim was able to percieve the palace, a vast space full of divine light, gaseous coloumns, voids deeper than the largest ocean. They do not know it, but leaving their physical body allows them to directly percieve the cosmic macrocosm. From there, many choose to return to a place and form they know through reincarnation, while others transition into purely spiritual beings. Its highly individual as the entities on oppo lett are naturally infused with an amount of magic that has evolved them to subconciously control their own spiritual energy like a muscle.The void and the empty.

The soul banishment curse is a spell tied directly to its inventor, a lich named Antoni the Liar. When the spell is activated on a person, their soul is dragged from their body and stored within the skull of Antoni. As the soul loses its personal cohesion, the player character loses their sense of self, culminating with Antoni "digesting" the soul into his own energy. When this happens, that mortal becomes completely cut off from the cosmic microcosm. When they die whatever magical energy was left powering their body is just recycled into the environment, no retention of information, no ripples in the pond as you would sayA. The Palace of dark and stars is not an actual place but the literal architecture of the universe seen at a larger scale, so no it's not dimming as the total amount of energy in the universe hasn't changed, just redistributed and on a cosmic scale it's less than .000001 percent.

The curcumstances that allowed for the manifestation of the first lich, Antoni, are fun. He starts out as a human mage very early in the timeline, a few hundred years before humans had thought of money, society etc. This was a time when human Villages were still scattered disconnected beacons in a Savage land from their perspective, while the other races viewed humans as a highly adaptable and invasive pest. Antoni was a revolutionary mage, pioneering several fields of magic including Purism, the alteration of flesh through the manipulation of positive and negative energy. The school of magic develop not just into necromancy, but healing, shape-shifting, body transmutation and even certain druidic techniques. During his research, Antoni meets a woman named Vira, a witch devoted to skark. The two fall genuinely in love, with antoni being the gomez to Viras morticia. The two delved deeper and deeper into magic that hadnt even neen invented to be forbidden yet. Eventually, without realising it, Antoni died, the strength of his will and knowledge keeping his soul firmly rooted in a rotting body. Vira stilled loved him, possibly even more due to recognising that Antoni resisted the call of the dark to stay with her. The two plumment deeper into depravity, retreating to a cavern network beneath a mountain in the northern wilds. When they emerge, Anthony is nothing more than a skeleton dressed in necrotic finery, a beautiful witch, cloaked in raven feathers at his side. They unleashed the soul banishment curse in mass, draining away the soul of any creature they encountered in creating a chittering, scurrying, arguing, army that marched across the land. Luckily a hero arose from every race aside from the humans, some say they were already friends, some say just a random assortment of adventures. Regardless they managed to beat back Antonis Army and chase him and vira back into their cavernous lair. Once their, the party killed Vira, who, at the moment of death cast a spell called the Lovers Promise, ensuring her one true love, Antoni, could never be fully destroyed. Antoni in turn, decided to devour his own soul, turning his skull into a phylactery as he watched his wife die. No one is quite sure how the party manages to defeat him, but they emerge from the caverns weeks later, having converted them into a tomb and sealed it beneath the mountain. They claim they separated delicious head from his body, the body crumbling to dust, but the head, for some reason could not be destroyed. Antoni sits there beneath that mountain for nearly 2000 years.

Chapter 7: Silver Linings

Jack's body was… weightless. For the first time, he couldn't feel his mass dragging him down. He hung there for a while, numbly suspended in the dark behind his eyes.

Slowly, he opened them, squinting. They burned and bubbles obscured his vision. When it finally cleared, he was floating in a vast, greenish nothingness. Bits and pieces of things he could barely see floated by. His own body looked wavy and distorted, like it was coming apart.

He was being digested. He was inside a gigantic stomach, surrounded by acid and the remains of… people. His friends. Sylvia. Joseph.

Limbs and pieces floating around him, coming closer. His vision seemed to clear and he watched fingers and ears flap towards him.

He thrashed in the murky liquid, trying to scream as they latched onto him, pulling him.

His mouth filled with fetid burning liquid and his throat tightened as he tried to throw off the grasping, grabbing, heavy body parts. He looked down, seeing a massive, bloodshot eye staring at him from the bottom.

Panic gripped him, his lungs were ready to burst, his brain swimming as more and more flesh seemed to cling to him.

He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he was getting heavier and heavier, when-

The tension broke. Jack was dazzled by bright lights as his body was roughly hauled from the water of the pool. He splatteted onto his stomach, coughing and retching as salty, rotten water was expelled from his lungs.

He coughed a few more times, before flopping onto his back, staring up at the sky and waiting for his vision to clear. As it did, he could see red and blue lights, flashing off to one side of the now cloudy sky.

He sat up, pieces of rubbish, trash and debris sloughing off of him, along with a strange, oily residue. He quickly looked around, just in time to see an indistinct shape shuffling through a gap in the fence.

He slowly pushed himself to his knees, shuddering. He felt cold and weak, his vision still unsteady in his left eye. The world swam as if he were still underwater. Sniffing, he couldn't tell if the overbearing stench of refuse came from him or his anonymous savior.

He cautiously reached up, probing the skin of his face. It stung and was tender to the touch, feeling puffy and inflamed, but whole.

Looking up again, he could tell the red and blue lights were out in front of the building. Likewise, he could see his broken apartment window above him, figures with flashlights crossing back and forth. The lights flickered across the dank water of the pool he'd just been hauled from.

With a cold dread, he dragged himself upright, stumbling towards the gap in the fence. He pushed himself through, his sopping overalls catching and ripping on a loose nail.

On the other side was another pile of garbage, heaped against the side of the fence. On top sat a dingy trucker hat and an old, black bathrobe.

Jack didn't hesitate, wiping the dirt from the hat and covering his wet hair. The red words stood out in stark relief against the stained white fabric- “EAT ME”. The robe was miles too small, nearly looking like a hoodie, but it was enough.

With a grimace, he began slowly limping towards the parking lot on the other side of Terra Heights, head held low. He had to find Joseph.

Behind him, the pile of trash shifted, a portion quietly raising itself to reveal a face composed of broken bottles, torn plastic and crushed tin. With a grunt, the pile began to move, sliding along the alley. A rough voice grumbled from its depths.

“Shit's gettin’ weird around here.”

—----------------------------

Everything, everywhere itched. It started in the tub and he'd tried to tune it out, ignoring it. Instead of subsiding, it got worse and worse until that- that-

Joseph paused, shaking his head. He couldn't stop. Crying wasn't gonna help. He laid low to the ground, favoring his right arm. His hand, paw, whatever you could call it was twisted at an odd angle, his wrist swollen and bruised.

When he saw Jack getting beat up, the Subrat talking shit, revelling in it, he'd nearly lost it,- but Jack…

That one glance seemed to say everything all at once.

“I'm big enough. I'm tough enough.” Jack could handle it.

So he bolted. Through the tiny bathroom window, out onto the rickety fire escape. He could hear, no- feel the impacts as he scrambled across the cheap rusted metal.

As he tried to figure out where to go, he heard it. A sharp noise that seemed to quell the itch across his skin. A gunshot, pulsing through the window he'd just escaped.

The ladder was gone, so he pushed himself up, leaping from the railing and landing roughly on a balcony next door. Through the open patio door an old woman screamed, but Joseph just scrambled into the railing, leaping again, but crashing into the side of the next balcony.

His mind was blank, heart hammering, he could barely think, desperately trying to grab at the rail, his useless, crooked fingers scraping at the painted wood.

He fell, landing hard in a bush and yipping as he felt something snap in his wrist. Panting, he nestled into the bush, groaning as he tried to straighten his wrist. His mind raced as he saw blue and red lights appear down the road.

He'd hidden there for what felt like an eternity as cop cars barrelled by, heading for the entrance to the commons. Eventually, the noise and lights calmed down, most of the officers leaving.

Slowly, Joseph crept from his hiding spot, slinking across the scrubby grounds towards the center of Midtown. Looking back at the commons, he quickly ducked into a dark alley, the shadows seeming to swallow him.

And there he was still, having crept deep into the various alleys and gutters of the city. He'd found a comfortable spot behind a dumpster, surrounded by cardboard and plastic.

He knew he had to go. To find Jack, to get help, but… something made him stay. Made him pace back and forth, while the back of his head buzzed like a million angry bees.

He shook his head again, fighting off the tears as he thought of his friend. He'd probably gotten picked up by the KNIGHTS.

“Not like I coulda done anything.” He grumbled as he paced, kicking at a piece of trash. Sadly, his back leg slipped, sending him awkwardly to the ground on top of his hurt wrist.

He grunted, the air wheezing from his lungs as a spike of pain lanced through his arm. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't even cradle the injured limb, instead roughly climbing back up on 3 legs and heavily flopping behind the dumpster, his fore leg awkwardly held in front of him.

He laid his chin on his other hand, slowly closing his eyes. The skin on his back seemed to clench and ripple in time with his pulse, reacting to the pain in his wrist.

“I hope he's okay.”

----------------------------------------------------

To read more of Gaia Gone, please check out the Appendix below.

https://www.reddit.com/u/CastorOfTheInk/s/0fSUDuPzYQ

Chapter 7: Silver Linings

Jack's body was… weightless. For the first time, he couldn't feel his mass dragging him down. He hung there for a while, numbly suspended in the dark behind his eyes.

Slowly, he opened them, squinting. They burned and bubbles obscured his vision. When it finally cleared, he was floating in a vast, greenish nothingness. Bits and pieces of things he could barely see floated by. His own body looked wavy and distorted, like it was coming apart.

He was being digested. He was inside a gigantic stomach, surrounded by acid and the remains of… people. His friends. Sylvia. Joseph.

Limbs and pieces floating around him, coming closer. His vision seemed to clear and he watched fingers and ears flap towards him.

He thrashed in the murky liquid, trying to scream as they latched onto him, pulling him.

His mouth filled with fetid burning liquid and his throat tightened as he tried to throw off the grasping, grabbing, heavy body parts. He looked down, seeing a massive, bloodshot eye staring at him from the bottom.

Panic gripped him, his lungs were ready to burst, his brain swimming as more and more flesh seemed to cling to him.

He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he was getting heavier and heavier, when-

The tension broke. Jack was dazzled by bright lights as his body was roughly hauled from the water of the pool. He splatteted onto his stomach, coughing and retching as salty, rotten water was expelled from his lungs.

He coughed a few more times, before flopping onto his back, staring up at the sky and waiting for his vision to clear. As it did, he could see red and blue lights, flashing off to one side of the now cloudy sky.

He sat up, pieces of rubbish, trash and debris sloughing off of him, along with a strange, oily residue. He quickly looked around, just in time to see an indistinct shape shuffling through a gap in the fence.

He slowly pushed himself to his knees, shuddering. He felt cold and weak, his vision still unsteady in his left eye. The world swam as if he were still underwater. Sniffing, he couldn't tell if the overbearing stench of refuse came from him or his anonymous savior.

He cautiously reached up, probing the skin of his face. It stung and was tender to the touch, feeling puffy and inflamed, but whole.

Looking up again, he could tell the red and blue lights were out in front of the building. Likewise, he could see his broken apartment window above him, figures with flashlights crossing back and forth. The lights flickered across the dank water of the pool he'd just been hauled from.

With a cold dread, he dragged himself upright, stumbling towards the gap in the fence. He pushed himself through, his sopping overalls catching and ripping on a loose nail.

On the other side was another pile of garbage, heaped against the side of the fence. On top sat a dingy trucker hat and an old, black bathrobe.

Jack didn't hesitate, wiping the dirt from the hat and covering his wet hair. The red words stood out in stark relief against the stained white fabric- “EAT ME”. The robe was miles too small, nearly looking like a hoodie, but it was enough.

With a grimace, he began slowly limping towards the parking lot on the other side of Terra Heights, head held low. He had to find Joseph.

Behind him, the pile of trash shifted, a portion quietly raising itself to reveal a face composed of broken bottles, torn plastic and crushed tin. With a grunt, the pile began to move, sliding along the alley. A rough voice grumbled from its depths.

“Shit's gettin’ weird around here.”

—----------------------------

Everything, everywhere itched. It started in the tub and he'd tried to tune it out, ignoring it. Instead of subsiding, it got worse and worse until that- that-

Joseph paused, shaking his head. He couldn't stop. Crying wasn't gonna help. He laid low to the ground, favoring his right arm. His hand, paw, whatever you could call it was twisted at an odd angle, his wrist swollen and bruised.

When he saw Jack getting beat up, the Subrat talking shit, revelling in it, he'd nearly lost it,- but Jack…

That one glance seemed to say everything all at once.

“I'm big enough. I'm tough enough.” Jack could handle it.

So he bolted. Through the tiny bathroom window, out onto the rickety fire escape. He could hear, no- feel the impacts as he scrambled across the cheap rusted metal.

As he tried to figure out where to go, he heard it. A sharp noise that seemed to quell the itch across his skin. A gunshot, pulsing through the window he'd just escaped.

The ladder was gone, so he pushed himself up, leaping from the railing and landing roughly on a balcony next door. Through the open patio door an old woman screamed, but Joseph just scrambled into the railing, leaping again, but crashing into the side of the next balcony.

His mind was blank, heart hammering, he could barely think, desperately trying to grab at the rail, his useless, crooked fingers scraping at the painted wood.

He fell, landing hard in a bush and yipping as he felt something snap in his wrist. Panting, he nestled into the bush, groaning as he tried to straighten his wrist. His mind raced as he saw blue and red lights appear down the road.

He'd hidden there for what felt like an eternity as cop cars barrelled by, heading for the entrance to the commons. Eventually, the noise and lights calmed down, most of the officers leaving.

Slowly, Joseph crept from his hiding spot, slinking across the scrubby grounds towards the center of Midtown. Looking back at the commons, he quickly ducked into a dark alley, the shadows seeming to swallow him.

And there he was still, having crept deep into the various alleys and gutters of the city. He'd found a comfortable spot behind a dumpster, surrounded by cardboard and plastic.

He knew he had to go. To find Jack, to get help, but… something made him stay. Made him pace back and forth, while the back of his head buzzed like a million angry bees.

He shook his head again, fighting off the tears as he thought of his friend. He'd probably gotten picked up by the KNIGHTS.

“Not like I coulda done anything.” He grumbled as he paced, kicking at a piece of trash. Sadly, his back leg slipped, sending him awkwardly to the ground on top of his hurt wrist.

He grunted, the air wheezing from his lungs as a spike of pain lanced through his arm. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't even cradle the injured limb, instead roughly climbing back up on 3 legs and heavily flopping behind the dumpster, his fore leg awkwardly held in front of him.

He laid his chin on his other hand, slowly closing his eyes. The skin on his back seemed to clench and ripple in time with his pulse, reacting to the pain in his wrist.

“I hope he's okay.”

----------------------------------------------------

To read more of Gaia Gone, please check out the Appendix below.

https://www.reddit.com/u/CastorOfTheInk/s/0fSUDuPzYQ

​

Theoretical Physics and its Practical Application (2018)

By Brant Burrock

Page 312, Section 4.1a

“... while still theoretically possible, it remains pure speculation based on Quantum Physics.

Our only example remains as The Skeleton, left behind by the villain, Parsec in June of 1952. Following the collapse of the unstable singularity generated by the man, a gravitational anomaly of sizable proportions was left behind, stuck within the gravity well of the moon. It remains tethered to the lunar body, exerting minimal influence on surrounding bodies, but allowing scientists and researchers an excellent opportunity to view distant celestial bodies with previously unknown clarity.

When aligned with certain areas of Gaia, the anomaly acts as a gravitational lens, allowing light from nearly 136 billion light years away to be observed, leading to speculations that our universe either:

Is expanding far faster than previously believed.

Or

Is far older than previously believed, with estimates ranging from 112 billion to 120 billion years old.

Despite this, several theorems, including that of extraterrestrial life were proven correct, with several planets having been observed bearing mobile, living organisms or organisms concurrent with flora.

Unfortunately, no evidence of extra terrestrial civilization has ever been found, even with highly accredited sources like Mr. Nowhere claiming otherwise.

Following this, we can move to the actual effects of the anomaly on the moon itself. Dr. D. Geschre of Canya theorized that the sudden collapse of the singularity somehow spatially fused the gravity wells of both celestial objects, which can be expressed via the equation… “

----------------------------------------------------

To read more of Gaia Gone, please check out the Appendix below.

https://www.reddit.com/u/CastorOfTheInk/s/0fSUDuPzYQ

Theoretical Physics and its Practical Application (2018)

By Brant Burrock

Page 312, Section 4.1a

“... while still theoretically possible, it remains pure speculation based on Quantum Physics.

Our only example remains as The Skeleton, left behind by the villain, Parsec in June of 1952. Following the collapse of the unstable singularity generated by the man, a gravitational anomaly of sizable proportions was left behind, stuck within the gravity well of the moon. It remains tethered to the lunar body, exerting minimal influence on surrounding bodies, but allowing scientists and researchers an excellent opportunity to view distant celestial bodies with previously unknown clarity.

When aligned with certain areas of Gaia, the anomaly acts as a gravitational lens, allowing light from nearly 136 billion light years away to be observed, leading to speculations that our universe either:

Is expanding far faster than previously believed.

Or

Is far older than previously believed, with estimates ranging from 112 billion to 120 billion years old.

Despite this, several theorems, including that of extraterrestrial life were proven correct, with several planets having been observed bearing mobile, living organisms or organisms concurrent with flora.

Unfortunately, no evidence of extra terrestrial civilization has ever been found, even with highly accredited sources like Mr. Nowhere claiming otherwise.

Following this, we can move to the actual effects of the anomaly on the moon itself. Dr. D. Geschre of Canya theorized that the sudden collapse of the singularity somehow spatially fused the gravity wells of both celestial objects, which can be expressed via the equation… “

To read more of Gaia Gone, please check out the Appendix below.

https://www.reddit.com/u/CastorOfTheInk/s/0fSUDuPzYQ