Chapter Sixty Six: Plotting with Puppy
Entering into the entrance hallway of the apartment Simone tentatively holds up her hand to inform the other two women to wait.
”Something wrong?” Chak asks before looking down at Zrume who sits at her side vigilantly.
The animal’s ears perk up and nostrils flare silently, keeping her own tabs on the situation.
“Hope not, but…” Simone replies in concerned thought, “While I was stranded on the Gratt homeworld and just getting to know Meeki, she was chased and attacked by big burly dogs like Zrume here. Not the same breed of course, but I wanna check in with her before waltzing in, you know? Her only experience with dogs being like that, she probably needs a warning.” she informs.
Chak’s eyes widen slightly and she quickly nods.
“Oh, of course. Yes, that’s a good idea.” she agrees before placing a lower limb on the mutt’s big head.
“Surprised you accepted taking it! You seemed very scared of it at first.” Sonla comments, having been keeping her own distance from the animal thus far.
“She’s a little scary, certainly. Definitely intimidating in size and stature…” Chak grants, “But that look in her eyes… she’s without a doubt a very good natured girl.” she says while gently petting the dog.
“I think so too, but we’re gonna have to be careful introducing her to everyone and make sure she knows who’s a friend. Don’t want her thinking any of them approaching you is of concern.” Simone says before walking ahead to enter the apartment, “You guys wait here, I’ll just be a sec.”
Entering the apartment proper, Simone looks around the circular center hub space. There’s a faint smell of pizza in the air as the empty boxes are still resting on the counter island in the kitchen area. However there is no sight of either Gratt or Terran outside their disheveled mess in the center media couch.
Simone would have felt a but more concerned with how late the three seems to be sleeping in, but the evidence around reveals that they just have been up late having fun while they can.
However, knowing that she still can’t surprise them with the pouch, she walks over to the Gratt’s room and knocks her knuckles against it.
Though when Troy answers it dressed in nothing but a blanket Simone looks over to the other room doors confused.
“Oh, morning dude. Sorry, did I forget who’s room is who’s?” she asks in a chuckle.
“Nope.” the sheepish man replies as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, “Uhm… shoot. Yeah, uhm… Meeki and Nodrin are just waking up too, need me to get ‘em out for ya?” he says as his cheeks redden.
Simone’s eyes gradually expand in realization as she tilts her head enough to see the partially collapsed fortress of pillows and blankets. Nodrin pokes their head and upper torso out from the draping wall in a stretch, while another pair of loving Gratt hands massage their torso in the usual process of separation.
“Hmmmm… morning good Simone.” Nodrin groggily utters as they more fully pull away from their softly chittering partner in a crawl out.
Returning her eyes back to Troy to grant the nude Nodrin a bit of privacy, Simone clears her throat and rubs the back of her head.
“Wow… It looks like you guys had a hell of a time. Uhm… congrats? It seems like it went well. Right, ahh… Yeah...” Simone rambles with several streams of thoughts going through her mind, but she eventually snaps to it by raising her voice slightly, “Meeki? Nodrin? I need you two to get dressed and step out asap. There’s something I need to run by you guys before Chak comes into the apartment.” she calls out to the Gratt before winking at Troy and stepping away and scavenging one of the few remaining cold slices of pizza in the fridge.
“Okay!” Meeki’s voice replies before Troy closes the door to get dressed himself.
Simone updates Chak on the situation with her Lens as she leans against the kitchen island, and only waits for about a minute before the three hurry on out more appropriately garbed. For the most part.
Troy is still shirtless as he wanders out and approaches the kitchen area and starts digging through the cupboards.
Meeki and Nodrin run up to the island by Simone and sit up on the stools. The female wears a gray shirt that’s way too big for her, answering why Troy’s outfit is incomplete.
“Well I’m not seeing much guys, we can try ordering in again. But there’s enough to work with here for some quick and dirty pancakes. Not seeing any syrup or jam, but I think I can make something real quick with these frozen fruit packs in the freezer. Maybe I’ll just throw ‘em into the batter and see if it works out?” Troy tells the duo, seeming to have picked up a conversation they were having while getting dressed, “Oh! And bacon! At least… something that looks like bacon. Definitely not from a Terran animal so I can’t be sure if it’ll cook the same.”
“Sounds much good!” Nodrin agrees as they rest their head in their hands, watching the half dressed Terran get to work, very much enjoying the show.
“What we need to discuss?” Meeki inquires the nearby redhead.
Simone nods before finishing off the slice in her hand.
“Chak and I brought some new friends back home with us, and I wanted to give you a heads up. Probably should’ve messaged ahead… but let’s just say we were a bit distracted. One of them is a Vorook named Sonla. She’s a bit of an infiltration expert and I have a good idea of what she can do in case things don’t go to plan. That said, hold back on details with her for now.” Simone says, to which the Gratt nod, “And… the other is a security service animal that was gifted to Chak by the Z’ah’tuck ambassador. Long story.”
“And I thought we had a wild night… Did you even manage to have that date?” Troy says over his shoulder as he mixes wet and dry ingredients in a bowl.
“Yes, actually. It was amazing, all this other stuff happened afterwards. Anyway, Meeki, Nodrin. I want to clear it with you before bringing the animal in because… it’s a dog. Meeki, I know for a fact that your introduction to dogs was harrowing to say the least, because they were the animals those Gaia people used while invading your home.” Simone addresses the two green folk, seeing a bit of confirmation of her concern in the responding fearful Gratt eyes looking to the entrance door of the apartment.
“The four legged beasts with fur?” Meeki inquires a bit nervously.
“Yep. But I assure you that this one will mean you no harm. Those Dogs that attacked you before were raised and trained to do so. But dogs themselves are domesticated animals that are broadly safe to be around, as long as you don’t make yourself a threat to them. And even then, they may just cower from ya rather than fight. That said, Chak’s new dog Zrume is trained to be a kind of bodyguard. It’s important to know to not act aggressively towards Chak when she’s ‘on duty’, alright? However I’d like to socialize her with you guys here in a sec while she’s ‘off duty’. You know, to make sure she understands you two are friends and permitted near Chak in times of crisis. Is it okay with you two to let them in?” Simone elaborates.
“So… this dog is nice?” Meeki questions for full confirmation.
“Chak called her a sweetheart herself. And I completely agree. As long as you don’t bum-rush Chak for some reason as soon as she walks in, you will be perfectly fine. Just don’t stare into her eyes until she’s comfortable around you. For dogs direct eye contact can be seen as a threat.” Simone answers, “Ready?”
Meeki blinks as she watches the door for a moment longer.
“Yes. Is okay to bring them in.” she nods.
The redhead pats Meeki’s shoulder reassuringly and messages Chak, informing her that she is cleared to enter.
Everyone within the apartment turns to get a look as the entrance opens up to the Cali princess holding a leash to an animal that weighs more than she does.
Meeki relatively takes hold of Nodrin’s hand, but otherwise remains calm as the god is brought closer to the kitchen area.
Chak stops and pulls up a list of provided commands that the canine is trained in.
“Zrume, at ease. Safe zone.” she states firmly, hoping that she did it correctly.
Immediately, Zrume’s posture loosens and even becomes a little wiggly as as she looks down and begins sniffing the ground and nearby furniture within range of the leash’s allowance. Although the leash straightens out, the gentle creature doesn’t pull against her owner’s grip, instead simply shifting her focus to something else.
Quickly that focus comes upon the two Gratt still sitting on stools. Coming closer with caution, Zrume approaches the strangers carefully.
“Lower your hands with palms out, let her say hi first.” Simone advises.
Nodding Meeki slowly obliges, twitching slightly as the animal starts to sniff her clawed hands. Then in a side-rub against Meeki’s legs the dog opens its mouth in a relaxed grin exposing her tongue.
Feeling like permission is granted, Meeki starts to pet Zrume’s shaggy fur along her vertical back.
Nodrin then lowers their hands as well for another sniff-inspection before being enthusiastically allowed to join in on the petting.
Meeki’s nerves gradually fade as the animal proves to be indeed very friendly and well mannered. Nothing like the animals that intended to tear her to shreds way back when.
“Hello Zrume.” she says in a relieving sigh.
At the sound of her name being spoken by this new person the dog arches her head back and up at the Gratt female. Her expression being only what can be defined as ‘goofy sweetness’ with big expressive eyes and a heavy swinging of her happy tail.
Simone covers her mouth, trying to not snort a laugh upon seeing the dog’s dorky nature. Removing her bag from her shoulder she turns to look at Sonla who has been very quietly looking around the apartment and the folks within.
“And this is Sonla. Sonla, this is Nodrin, Meeki and Troy.” the redhead introduces with a moving hand gesture.
The monkey-like lizard stood up from walking on her knuckles to give everyone a wave.
“Hi.” she says a bit awkwardly.
“Welcome to the circus!” Troy greets as he pours his pancake-fruit mixture into a heated and buttered pan. Leaving it for just a moment he leans over on the island and gives the Vorook a big smile, “Want any pancakes? I might have made a bit too much batter while trying to even out the texture.” he offers.
“I’m an obligate carnivore, so no thanks.” Sonla replies as she settles back on her thickly scaled knuckles.
“Oh, sorry, right. My bad.” Troy chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck, “Uhh… what about some bacon? The animal is uhm…” he turns sound to closely read the chilled packaging for the answer, “Premium cloned loamph? Not really sure how ‘premium’ cloned stuff is, but we got it!”
The man flips the package in the air with one hand while the other gives the lizard lady a thumbs up.
“Yes!” Sonla immediately replies as she maneuvers up to the remaining stool by the island, and adjusts it to compensate for her shorter stature.
“You got it!” Troy says with a finger-gun before turning around once more to tend to his cooking.
After a short while seeing the dog is handling the situation well, Chak takes off the leash. Zrume takes this opportunity to step away from the Gratt and further explore the space around her.
“She’s very nice.” Meeki says as she watches the animal sniff around everything that was in her path, “She play or no?” the Gratt inquires curiously.
“Oh yeah. I imagine she’d be happy to play things like fetch and tug-of-war. In fact Chak already ordered toys, food, a bed and a waste pad system to be eventually delivered to the Kwip-chap.” Simone answers before her fiance pressed up against her in a side hug.
“It’s only sensible to be prepared now, rather than later.” Chak defends in a chuckle as she keeps an eye on the pouch, “I just hope the children will like her.”
“I’m sure they will.” the redhead replies as she gently rubs the Cali’s back.
Meanwhile Sonla finds herself staring up directly at Nodrin with an unreadable expression.
“You… alright?” Nodrin asks.
“Why do you have four eyes?” Sonla bluntly counter-questions.
“Ah- uhm… because I was born with four? As most Gratt are. Four eyes not all that strange when it comes to other species. Truba, Carvv and Hallo as examples.” Nodrin answers, confused by the question,
“Well duh, but I mean why does your species have four eyes evolution wise?” Sonla clarifies, “Carvv and Hallo have four to see different light spectrums, and Dillo needed six to look upwards for falling debris in sandstorms and cliffsides. Runeani have eight! I think that is because they needed good depth perception.”
“Oh, so you much study biology science?” Nodrin assumes.
“No. It’s just kinda creepy to look at without context.” Sonla bluntly responds with a shrug,
Nodrin leans back a bit, finding themself a bit offended.
“Much rude… but if it make you comfortable to be around us then I’ll answer the best I can.”
“Sorry. But yes, it’ll help.” Sonla says, although to the Gratt her tone can stand to be a bit more apologetic.
“Very well. They help get more clear vision in dark places. Mostly they help us with close inspection and far distance seeing.” Nodrin explains before pointing at their pair of eyes furthest from the center of their face, “But outer eyes are much special. Our ancestors were aquatic animals and so Gratt’s outer eyes still have extra clear lids to see underwater.”
“Oh. Aquatic?” Sonla questions, “Where did head fur come from then? Are you like mammalian?” she adds with more genuine curiosity.
“I… don’t know…” Nodrin admits, “Gratt study past ancestors much, but we still know little. Though hope new tech from the stars can help with all our sciences.”
“I saw Terran article that said we closely resemble… uhm…” Meeki inserts herself into the conversation before trailing off as she forgets the classification used, “One moment…” she utters as she navigates her Lens to find the article she found, “Ah! Synapsids! Not exactly like, but much comparison. So we are compared to ‘Mammal-like reptiles’.”
Sonla blinks before looking back as the roar of bacon hits a hot pan.
“Huh… Neat!” she replies, “Vorook can’t really swim very well. We tend to sink and even if we don’t we are too top heavy so our heads get stuck underwater. Very funny to see, but also sad. But we are really good at climbing! We can hold on to and dangle from things for long periods of time!”
“But not holding on to speeding shuttles roofs, huh?” Simone teases, as she maneuvers her positioning to get a better line of sight on the sizzling bacon.
“N-no… Well maybe, if it didn’t get so cold so fast.” Sonla says,
Troy looks back at his fellow Terran with a furrowed brow.
“What did you guys get yourselves into?” he says as he breaks into a bewildered laugh.
“I’m sure you’ll know soon enough when you get the chance to look at the news. But by the end of it Chak managed to secure overwhelming Z’ah’tuck support for her and her efforts to take back the throne. Like… military support. Granted, they have a lot to gain from it, but so do we.” Simone reveals as she finds herself a bit closer to the plate where the man was putting down the greasy strips of crispy goodness.
Chak then lets out a genuinely humored giggle that borders on outright laughter.
Confused, Troy looks to Simone then to his other side where Chak is looking. Having somehow sneaked up on him, Zrume sits there while gazing up at him with big pleading eyes with a little line of drool dripping from her maw. Noticing that he is boxed in he turns to Simone and aims his tongs out at her.
“You already pillaged our leftovers, you can wait a few minutes for bacon!” he states sternly in his fake parental tone before turning to the dog.
“Sorry pupper… way too much sodium for you. It’ll upset your guts real bad.” he sweetly apologizes.
As he addresses the canine, Simone swiftly reaches over and silently snatches two hot strips from the plate and retreats back before he is able to notice.
“You motherf-” Troy laughs once he sees both Simone and Chak snacking on the stolen goods, but knowing he would do the exact same drops it immediately.
Simone smirks in victory as she wanders over to the circular center couch to make herself comfortable as they all wait for their other Terran comrades to return from their own mysterious mission.
-
“Well that wasn’t a complete disaster…” Brandy mutters as she strides ahead of Thorn and Devin with her arms crossed while marching into the apartment entrance hallway.
“Hard to believe we weren’t caught after that water tank collapsed… Almost didn’t have the time to scrub us from all the crossing security footage.” Devin groans in a low grumble.
“Getting caught? How about -oh you know- nearly crashing that tanker shuttle into a residential area!?” Brandy snaps back.
“Not my fault that the pilot passed out.” Devin argues.
“Sorta was, that kinda happens when you jumpscare a Zernth from behind like you did.” Brandy counters.
“It was either lose the target or try to convince the Zernth to turn left.” Devin sighs before he feels a mechanical hand press on the back of his shoulder.
Pushing him to hurry up, Thorn catches up with Brandy where he plants his other hand.
“Mmhmm. Not our best work. But we got the bastard and actually convinced the Squilla ambassador to help us out in our little operation here. Other than some spilled water, we managed to pull it off without a hitch. I say we all learn from the experience and get to what’s further down the trail. Remember what’s at stake.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But still… it’s those stakes that make every mistake feel like I’ve wronged the entire universe. Like it’s heavier than it has any right to be.” Brandy replies as she reaches the door, “One fuck up and who knows how many people will be hurt from it down the line…”
“Aye… but in the grand scheme of it all your actions have had the same weight your entire life, because it led you here doing what you’re doing. Still, you're right, it’s a lot to bear on the heart.” Thorn grants, “My advice? Take a note from Simone’s book. Just keep moving forward and rest in the arms of whoever you want to hold ya.”
“I honestly don’t know how she copes. It’d drive me into a downward spiral of stress and paranoia going through half of what she has.” the woman huffs as she reaches to open the door via indicator.
“Don’t compromise who you are, and preserve your capability to love throughout all of the hell life will march ya through. It’ll hurt, but it’s worth it because that’s how you win life.” the old man states right before the door opens.
“Yooo! Bout time! You guys want some cold pancakes? I can reheat ‘em if you’d like!” Troy cheers from the couch with two Gratt resting at his sides.
“I hope you three have moved from the couch at some point…” Brandy says with an exaggerated eye roll, “Have a good night?”
“Yeah we did!” the man answers both of Brandy’s sentences at once.
“I’m going to set up to get our finalized planning underway. Ten minutes.” Devin notifies as he peels off to his room.
“Good. I hear we have a new member to the crew?” Thorn says as he strides in with his hands on his hips.
As if summoned, Sonla’s head peeks out from behind the other side of the couch.
“That’s me! Master infiltrator Sonla at your service!” the Vorook introduces herself, now standing proudly upon the headrest.
“Master eh? Good… We’re definitely gonna need a master’s handiwork in our lil’ operation.” Thorn chuckles as he scratches at his five o'clock shadow.
“We were also told that we have a doggie?” Brandy asks as she looks around for any trace of the animal.
“Yup! Simone and Chak were just showing her off to their kids in a call.” Troy explains as he thumbs to their room.
As if summoned by Troy’s opposable digit, the door opens with Chak once again holding the leash of the dog.
“Welcome back, I hope everyone is alright?” the princess inquires as she guides Zrume out to meet Brandy first, “At ease, safe zone.” she reminds the animal.
“Why hello there! Oh my goodness I’ve never seen a breed quite like hers before! Like a big pitty and… African painted dog maybe? Has the color at least. Definitely some others mixed in there too, hint of mastiff or something else chunkier? But still all the pretty in a fluffy package!” Brandy says as she scratches under the dog’s wide neck, which is very much approved.
Though the angle of Zrume’s ears change to one of caution and alertness. Turning her head towards the old man who had yet to approach she released a low growl.
“It’s okay Zrume, safe zone.” Chak assures, but the animal’s stare remained intense on the cybernetic man.
Seeing the confusion and concern on everyone’s faces, Thorn raises his hand.
“Don’t worry about it, dogs and I don’t really mix. A shame really, but it’s something to do with how my non-organic bits emit a sound they find very agitating. Like a walking annoying dog whistle. I’ll see if Devin can do anything about that, but in the meantime it’s best if the dog and I keep separate.” he explains.
“Oh damn. Yeah I guess dogs never really approached you before. Bummer. I guess while we sort things out we’ll have her chill in our room.” Simone says apologetically.
“And I’ll bunk up when she needs some runnin’ around time.” Thorn nods back appreciatively, “She’s downright adorable by the way.”
As Chak turns back around to lead Zrume back in her room for the time being, Troy’s eyes go wide and he points at Simone dramatically.
“Shit dude I almost forgot! Someone came asking for you by name.” he reveals.
Looking to him with a bit of fear in her eyes Simone gave him her full attention.
“Who?” She demands.
“Don’t worry I never confirmed you were actually here and she seemed… not like the people we’re up against. She was a tall thin lady who said she was a friend of yours from your academy days? She left a contact card and before you ask, yes I scanned the hell out of it. She seemed to really really want to talk to you.” the man explains as he feels around his pockets and when he finds nothing he shoves his hand down the crevice of the couch until he victoriously pulls the card out of the furniture-void.
He holds it out to which Simone accepts hesitantly.
“Yeah, okay…” she mumbles while looking at either side of the card.
“Just be careful, our options of people who we can trust from your military career are thin at best.” Thorn cautions.
“I know. And… I think I know who it is. Honestly I have no clue how involved she is, if at all… but it’s quite the coincidence she shows up now of all times.” Simone admits.
“Is she gonna be a problem for what we’re planning to do?” Brandy asks.
“If she has nothing to do with the Terran terrorists, then I don’t think so. I’d ignore this completely, but I ought to at least know what she wants to talk about, clearly she knows I’m here anyway. No point in avoiding it, especially if she seeks me out during our operation regardless of her intentions we’re asking for trouble. The other big issue of course, is that she’s still with the Terran Union. This could just be a ploy to get me arrested and into Union custody.” the redhead says as she taps the card in the palm of her other hand.
“Then wherever she wants to meet I’ll come with you.” Chak announces as she returns to her Terran, “I’ll even request for Ambassador Zrreak’s attendance if possible, or at the very least have a representative of his there to show that arresting you would be a terrible political nightmare for the Union.” the princess adds sternly with an affirmative nod.
“Damn you're so hot when you get like this…” Simone replies in jest to alleviate her own nerves, “But yeah, I appreciate it.”
“But first before any of that potential shit-show…” Thorn says as he crosses his arms, “It’s time we put our main plan to paper. We have a president to possibly kidnap and hold at gunpoint after all.”
“Oh… wow. That’s a bit more than ‘less than legal’...” Sonla mutters with wide eyes “Good thing I’m a master of explosives too…”

This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 56%. (I'm a bot)

A US Air Force colonel "Mis-spoke" when describing an experiment in which an AI-enabled drone opted to attack its operator in order to complete its mission, the service has said.
In his talk, he had described a simulation in which an AI-enabled drone was repeatedly stopped from completing its task of destroying Surface-to-Air Missile sites by its human operator.
He said that in the end, despite having been trained not to kill the operator, the drone destroyed the communication tower so that the operator could no longer communicate with it.
"We've never run that experiment, nor would we need to in order to realise that this is a plausible outcome," Col Hamilton later clarified in a statement to the Royal Aeronautical Society.
Speaking to the BBC earlier this week, Prof Yoshua Bengio, one of three computer scientists described as the "Godfathers" of AI after winning a prestigious Turing Award for their work, said he thought the military should not be allowed to have AI powers at all.
He described it as "One of the worst places where we could put a super-intelligent AI". I spent several hours this morning speaking to experts in both defence and AI, all of whom were very sceptical about Col Hamilton's claims, which were being widely reported before his clarification.

Summary Source FAQ Feedback Top keywords: operator^#1 described^#2 experiment^#3 expert^#4 drone^#5
Post found in /worldnews and /conspiracy.
NOTICE: This thread is for discussing the submission topic. Please do not discuss the concept of the autotldr bot here.

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Can some one mark this creative writing did it in exam conditions thanks, I didn't get to finish so I don't know if that will make me lose marks
​
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that. When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, 2 because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar -- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen -- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive -- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes -- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt -- these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swoop ing past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open- mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery. 3 He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their son, Harry" Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her -- if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks... He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping 4 he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw -- and it didn't improve his mood -- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" "Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early -- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight." Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters... Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er -- Petunia, dear -- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" 5 As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister. "No," she said sharply. "Why?" "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..." "So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley. "Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd." Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son -- he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?" "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. "What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?" "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." "Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of -- well, he didn't think he could bear it. The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about 6 them and their kind.... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on -- he yawned and turned over -- it couldn't affect them.... How very wrong he was. Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all. A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down 7 on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked. "My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall. "All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars.... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent -- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense." "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years." "I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day YouKnow-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he 8 really has gone, Dumbledore?" "It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?" "A what?" "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of" "No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -" "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name. "I know you haven 't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of." "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." "Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them." "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until 9 Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead. " Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But -- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone. Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's -- it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?" "We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?" "Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" "I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now." 10 "You don't mean -- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!" "It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter." "A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name!" "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! CarA you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it. "Hagrid's bringing him." "You think it -- wise -- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore. "I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to -- what was that?" A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a 11 headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets. "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir." "No problems, were there?" "No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol." Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. "Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall. "Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever." "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well -- give him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I -- could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his 12 great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog. "Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!" "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it -- Lily an' James dead -- an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -" "Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out. "Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." "Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir." Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four. "Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. 13 A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen.

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This was just copy/pasted from google docs so apologies in advance for any formatting issues.
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19°28’N 37°14’E
Near Port Sudan, Sudan, Africa.
Another helicopter thundered past in the distance, following the line of the oil pipeline back towards the port facilities.
"That's three in the past hour," Cody observed. "Still think nothing's going on?" "I think if you want to bother Adams again it's gonna be your ass." Keith replied.
"Come on, don't be like that." Cody said.
"Nope."
"Come on, don't be a bitch."
"Nope."
"Bitch says what."
"Nope."
"Got fifty bucks says you won't do it."
"Nope."
"Will both of you shut the fuck up," Eduardo groaned from the back seat of the vehicle. "We're almost done here and you can go harass Adams in person when we get back to base."
"Yeah but I'm curious now." Cody said.
"Well, tell Miles to turn this vic around and we can go."
"What do you say, Miles? You know Adams doesn't check the log timestamps too closely."
"The final marker is literally thirty meters away," Miles said patiently. "I will turn the vic around there and we will drive back to base and you can badger Adams into a stroke on your own time. Until then, watch your sector."
"Uh well, my sector's full of sand, can I have a different one?"
"There's some rocks in mine."
"Like the face of the fucking moon out here, man." Cody moaned.
"Maybe you shouldn't have signed up for a job in the fucking Sudan, genius." Eduardo said.
"Man, I'm just here for the money." Cody replied.
"Well, I'm not here for the weather." Martin said, cranking the wheel around in a practiced motion. The battered white SUV slewed around, wheels spraying dust and pebbles. Cody keyed the radio on his vest. "Base, this is Cody checking in. We're at the outer marker for the southern patrol path, heading back, over."
There was the faint buzz of static.
"Copy that, Cody. Any contacts?"
"No contacts, base. All quiet here. Out."
Martin patted Cody on the shoulder. "Proud of you, buddy. That took real strength."
Cody flipped him off.
The radio crackled again. "Cody, this is base, where did you say you were?"
"Base, this is Cody, we are at the outer marker for our patrol route, heading back your way, over."
"Uh, copy Cody, hang on one second."
“Cody, this is Adams,” a new voice said over the radio. “I need your team to swing west and investigate unauthorized activity near the pipeline in, uh grid square A54-41."
"The fuck this is Cody's team." Keith muttered from the back.
"Copy that, Adams, we'll move to investigate immediately," Cody said crisply. "Any intel on the intruders?"
The radio crackled again. "The uh, number of intruders is unknown at this time."
Miles keyed his own radio. "Adams, who called this report in?"
"The report was forwarded to us by local security forces."
A chorus of groans rose from the interior of the SUV.
"Fuckin' locals." Eduardo said.
"And why isn't local security handling this?"
"Miles, I don't need to remind you that Vericom has been contracted to guard the terminal facilities and pipeline-"
"Yeah yeah, spare me the geopolitics, Adams, I'm just a dumb trigger puller, remember? I'm not asking you why I'm here, I'm asking why the very much armed local security isn't apprehending the trespassers."
"The local security called it in," Adams replied in a tight, angry voice. "And under the terms of our contract we are responsible for apprehending any trespassers in our zone. Is that satisfactory, Mr. Martin?"
"Copy, moving to apprehend. Out."
"Fuckin' locals." Eduardo muttered again as the SUV turned towards the new destination.
"Coming up on the location now." Cody was tapping at the topographical map displayed on his ruggedized tablet.
"Copy that," Miles said absently, maneuvering the SUV around a scattering of larger boulders. Behind him Keith rolled down his window and propped the muzzle of his M4 carbine on the opening.
"Relax," Eduardo said. "Just some lost people."
"Maybe." Keith said, squinting out over the dusty, rolling terrain.
The SUV bounced over the crest of another low ridge, the long dust plume trailing behind it in the harsh midday sun. Miles slowed to a stop. In the far distance there was a glint of light off a moving vehicle traversing the coastal highway. There was no other sign of life in sight.
"Yeah, there's nothing out here." Cody said after a few moments.
Keith had extracted a pair of binoculars from his chest rig and was scanning the surroundings.
"Nothing on this side, boss." Eduardo said.
"Keith?" Miles said.
"Nothing moving but heat haze."
"Cody, call in negative contact. Let's head back to base." Miles said as the SUV rolled forward.
"Copy copy." Cody keyed his radio. "Base, this is Cody, we're at grid A54-41, negative on contact with intruders, over."
"Copy that Cody, we haven't gotten any other reports in your zone, go ahead and head in."
"Thanks very much, base, will do. Cody out."
The SUV bumped and bounced its way back onto the “paved” road. While the main coastal highway was in decent shape, the smaller roads were mostly potholes and washouts held together by cracked concrete and gravel. Although flatter than the surrounding landscape, it was a bold or desperate driver that would risk driving on it at normal highway speeds. This fact most likely saved four lives as Miles had plenty of time to spot the dusty tan plate lying in the road as the vehicle slowly bounced towards it.
“Guys, is that a land mine I’m seeing in the road ahead?” Miles said, pointing. “Directly ahead, maybe twenty yards, just past the two bushes.”
Cody sat up, peering through the dusty windshield. “Slow up, slow up. Shit, I think you’re right.”
“Call it in,” Miles said. “We use this road all the time, what was the last team through here?"
"Dallas' team had outer perimeter patrol this morning." Keith volunteered.
"Base, this is Cody, we've got what looks like a landmine on Route 33, maybe two or three klicks from the coastal highway, please advise, over."
There was a brief hiss of static. No reply.
"Base, do you read, over?"
Static.
“Base, this is a fucking great time for a coffee break!”
No answer.
“Guys, I think this is a no shit situation,” Miles said, putting the SUV in reverse. “Let’s get off the X and back to base.”
Cody slid his AR up into the ready position. Keith and Eduardo already had their rifles out and ready.
Miles executed a hasty three point turn and gunned the SUV back the way they had come.
“How concerned should we be right now?” Keith shouted over the engine noise. “Not the
first time we’ve lost comms with base out here.”
“Could be nothing,” Miles shouted back. “But out here it could be a strike on the port or oil terminal. Not that hard to jam comms and drop a few mines on the roads.”
“Hell, I’m here for it.” Keith shouted.
“I’ll keep trying to raise base or one of the other teams.” Cody shouted.
The SUV bounced and lurched its way back over the route it had taken and finally reached the coastal highway where Miles jammed the pedal down. Cody still couldn’t make contact with base but was able to reach another patrolling team who confirmed that base was incommunicado. As they roared up the coastal highway Cody pointed towards a rising plume of dense black smoke ahead of them. “Looks like shit’s gone down, boys.”
“Fuck,” Keith swore, peering around Cody’ headrest to look ahead. “So much for site security.”
“Guys, we’ve got a roadblock ahead.” Cody said, pointing. A dilapidated cargo truck had stopped and was attempting to turn around. A pair of pickup trucks were just visible beyond it, blocking off the road in a shallow V. Men in mismatched fatigues and headscarves stood atop them holding rifles.
“Are those our guys?” Miles asked, slowing the SUV.
“Fuck if I can tell from here.” Cody said.
“Well I’m not fucking moving up.” Miles said.
“Go around,” Eduardo said, peering out his window. “No ditch here.”
“Go now while the truck is between us and them.” Keith added.
“Hang on.” Miles gunned the SUV down the shallow embankment parallel to the roadblock.
Keith twisted around in his seat. “They’re tracking us”.
Miles glanced in the rearview mirror. The guards were pointing and waving their arms at the SUV. One of them with a pistol in one hand and a radio in the other seemed to be giving orders
“Are we still under the ROE?” Cody asked. “I’d really like to shoot back if they try to kill us.”
“I’m not dying over fucked comms and a misunderstanding.” Keith said.
The checkpoint guards were scrambling into their trucks. One of them ripped off a burst that went wide.
“Fuck it, that’s good enough for me,” Miles said, slamming on the brakes. “Dismount and engage hostiles.”
The men threw themselves out of the vehicle. Eduardo and Cody went prone in the dirt and began firing. On the other side Keith propped his rifle on the vehicle’s bumper and squeezed off several careful shots.
The checkpoint guards had been caught by surprise by the sudden attack. One of the trucks had just roared into motion when the bullets began punching through the windshield. The other was still parked, its crew climbing into the cab when the shooting started. Multiple rounds smashed the windshield into a starred, opaque mess. The driver leaped from the seat and ran for cover behind the truck wheels. Miles shot him in the back and he dropped.
The other truck rolled forward down the shallow incline with a dead driver at the wheel. The guards in the back continued firing over the roof. The back window of the SUV shattered and bullets banged off the steel frame, showering Keith and Eduardo with shards of safety glass. Miles fired at a guard crouched in the truck bed and the man disappeared, then popped back up again when Miles shifted targets. Miles shifted back and fired again, his gun clicking empty on the third shot. He dropped the empty magazine and yanked a new one from his vest. The new mag clicked into place and Miles resumed shooting. A corner of his mind was pleasantly surprised at how easily it was done under fire.
One of the guards on the far truck bailed off the back and fled across the road, disappearing into the ditch on the far side. Suddenly no one was firing back at them.
Miles cautiously rose to his feet. With Keith and Cody covering him, he and Eduardo circled wide around the checkpoint, scanning for any sign of life. Nothing moved but wisps of steam from under the hood of one of the trucks. He waved the others in. They swept the checkpoint carefully. There were six dead guards and a blood trail leading out into the brush.
“Fuck.” Keith said emphatically.
“Fuck me,” Cody said, slotting in a fresh mag. “You guys good?
“I’m good.” Keith said.
“Good here.” Eduardo said, patting himself down.
“I’m ok.” Martin said.
“Fuck,” Keith said again. “Fuckers just opened up on us. These weren’t local security, right?”
“Check the bodies for intel,” Miles said, already rifling through the pockets of one of the shooters. “I don’t know who the fuck these guys were but we’re gonna get grilled about this.”
The three of them methodically searched the bodies while Eduardo held overwatch. None of the bodies had any documents on them. The weapons were gathered and stacked in the back of one of the trucks while the bodies were laid out next to it. Martin retrieved their SUV which proved to have suffered no worse damage than shot out windows and the four of them piled in.
Cody finally got a response on the radio as they neared the base. A rattled Adams responded to their calls by ordering them in to assist with base security. “Radio shack got hit and we’ve been dealing with jamming. We still have two patrols out in the field who haven’t reported in, we need you to assist in maintaining a defensive perimeter.”
“Copy that, boss. Tell base we’re coming in so don’t fucking shoot at us. Already dealt with that once today.”
They dismounted in the central courtyard. The comms building had taken a direct hit from an RPG and was still smoking. Two sheet covered bodies lay beside it. Several of the other buildings had bullet holes and other signs of battle damage.
As directed, the team took up defensive positions on the roof of one of the perimeter buildings. Dallas’ team was on a nearby building overlooking the main entrance. Miles got on the radio and contacted them.
“Glad to see y’all made it,” Dallas said by way of greeting. “Been a real shitshow here.” He pointed towards the billowing black smoke belching out of the wreckage of the oil pipeline terminal. “Probably not getting our contract renewed for this site.”
“So what the fuck happened?” Miles asked.
“Don’t know. We were in the bunkhouse when we heard the radio shack get hit. Whoever it was lit the place up and then peeled out. We had barely gotten outside when the oil terminal went up. Someone said they saw Sea Ports Corporation logos on the trucks but I don’t know if that’s true. All I saw was dust.”
“Shit, you think that’s true? Locals were behind this?”
“Someone with more brains than your average fanatic is. They knew exactly what to hit and exactly how to jam our comms.”
“They mined the roads along our patrol routes too, so either they’ve been watching us or they paid off someone on the inside.”
“Smart.” Dallas said.
“I saw the two bodies by the radio shack. Any of your team get hit?”
“Negative. They were in and out. I think someone in the admin building caught a stray round but that was all.”
“I know Shedge was on shift in comms,” Miles said. “Who was the other?”
“Morris.” Dallas said.
They fell silent for a while.
The two missing patrol teams drove in thirty minutes later in a single shot up SUV. They had come under long range fire from hidden enemies and had evaded out into the desert. One of the vehicles had been disabled, but the team managed to dismount and take cover while the other vehicle moved to pick them up. One team member had been grazed on the leg and another had taken a hit to the chest plate. The uninjured team members joined them on the perimeter defense. No attack materialized.
A convoy of Sudanese military vehicles rolled in late that evening to take charge of the terminal. The PMC personnel were ordered to collect their personal items and evacuate the site. The Sudanese wanted them out, so while the company lawyers argued with the Sudanese administration, all personnel on the ground were transported out to Port Sudan International Airport for flights back to the United States.
Miles, Keith, Cody, and Eduardo caught up with each other outside the terminal. Keith was chatting with two of the airport ground crew in passable Arabic as the others walked up.
“Hey, you guys aren’t going to believe this but apparently there’s been a bunch of foreign fighter types coming through here in the past several weeks.” Keith said by way of greeting.
“Go fucking figure.” Miles said.
“I don’t even give a shit,” Cody said, unwrapping a pack of cigarettes. “In a couple of hours I’ll be on my way back home with a fat early contract termination check in my pocket.”
Eduardo nodded. “We all survived, importantly.”
“Amen to that.” Cody said.
The ground crew members bid Keith farewell and sauntered off towards the terminal.
There was silence for a minute while Cody methodically extracted and lit up a cigarette.
“That was pretty fucking badass though,” Miles said. “Shot our way out of an ambush and drove home.”
“Pretty wild.” Keith agreed.
“Never saw the people I killed before,” Eduardo said. “Returning fire yes, but not securing the bodies. Always gone afterwards.”
“I definitely had that out-of-body feeling you get sometimes under fire,” Cody said. “Like you’re just watching your own body go through the motions while you sit and watch.”
“I never got that,” Miles said. “I was inside my own head but I always knew somehow what to do next. Like even when we swept the roadblock I knew exactly where to turn and where the bodies were going to be. It sounds crazy but I wasn’t really scared of getting shot, I was scared of moving wrong or stepping in the wrong place and I’d break the focus and suddenly I’d have to think through every motion again.”
Eduardo nodded. “I know how that feels.”
Another silence. Cody took a deep drag on the cigarette.
“You don’t think we’ll get fired over this, do you?” Keith asked. “Because I still have bills to pay back home and I don’t need this on my record.”
“I doubt it,” Cody said. “I mean, its completely out of our hands so who the fuck knows really. But its not something you get fired over. You see how fast they’re pulling us out of here, like no operation debrief or anything? Company’s got bigger problems to worry about right now.”
“Like the oil pipeline that got blown up, not about a possible bad shoot in the desert.” Keith said.
“Oil terminal.” Miles corrected quietly.
“You watch,” Cody continued. “In about three days some Vericom executive is going to strap on his golden parachute and take a dive off the top floor because the company stock dipped by sixty cents. Then we’ll all get an email with a big fat non-disclosure agreement attached showing up in our inboxes.”
“You would work for them again?” Eduardo sounded surprised.
“Fuck it, why not?” Cody said. “The pay’s good, and what are the odds that a fuck up like this happens to me twice?”
“Seems like higher odds than before.” Miles said.
“Everybody’s running a little hot these days,” Keith said. “You’ve got the Syrian and Yemen civil wars, the military coup in Turkey, the bombings in Europe, the riots in India, the drug wars in Mexico and southeast Asia, plus that bombing at the Olympics.”
“I still think that one was a false flag.” Cody said.
“Bullshit, that was the work of ISIS scum.” Eduardo replied angrily.
“He’s got a point, Cody,” Miles said. “They grabbed one of the bombers before he could clack off his vest after all.”
“Maybe,” Cody said. “Now the shooting at the Clinton rally, that was a false flag, no question. The FBI practically admitted it. They’re terrified she’ll lose and they need a few martyrs.”
“Don’t know why you pay so much attention to that,” Miles said. “Not like the other guy is any better. Just a pair of narcissistic old fucks getting their rocks off on the American people’s dime.”
“I like to know which side is going to be screaming about a rigged election for the next four years while their savings and civil liberties go up in smoke.” Cody lit another cigarette from the butt of the first.
“You know I hate it when you chain smoke and turn into Alex Jones.” Miles said.
“Brother, you should see me on meth.” Cody grinned.
“I didn’t know you smoked at all.” Eduardo said.
“Only on the way home,” Cody said. “Otherwise I don’t.”
The four of them stood around on the airport tarmac until the encroaching evening chill drove them inside with the rest of the Vericom personnel. Miles’ last glimpse of Sudan was the stark black outline of the western hills as the sun sank behind them. Then night fell and the only light was the harsh white arc lights of the airport illuminating the red and white airliner being fueled to carry them home.
$$$$
News Headlines of the day:
FBI: Philadelphia shooter had ‘strong ties’ to right wing ultranationalist groups.
US economy signals uncertainty as Far East trade war heats up.
British lawmaker shot dead, EU referendum campaigns suspended
Prominent Mexican politician, family among the dead following Sinaloa cartel gun battle.
‘Terrorism is not welcome here’: Sudanese President issues warning following oil pipeline bombing.

So, we already discussed what DC was doing to match the tenor of the early years of the War on Terror: A grim, smarter-than-it-thinks miniseries full of gratuitous rape that was meant to take the shine off the Silver Age by showing the darker side of its greatest heroes. Marvel, on the other hand, was trying to find a way to capture the zeitgeist of a post-9/11 era of existential threats, constant government surveillance, and the idea that if you weren’t with America, you were against it. A Captain America storyline saw Cap wrestle with the very concept of Guantanamo Bay; like any story arc that involves Cap doubting whether America lives up to its ideals, this made certain conservatives pissy, to the point that bad movie cataloguer Michael Medved wrote an entire article asking if Cap was a traitor. Avengers Disassembled briefly saw the Avengers face down their demons, as the Scarlet Witch goes crazy (again) and starts killing team members, her reality manipulations causing fault lines to form among Marvel’s greatest superteam. But there hadn’t yet been a storyline that would tie the entire Marvel Universe together with the burning question, “Which side are you on?”
Yeah, it’s got nothing to do with the Sokovia Accords. We’d be a lot better off if it did.
Part 1: Mark Millar’s March to the C-Word
Content Warning: Sexual assault. None of this is germane to the topic of the drama, so feel free to skip ahead to Part 1.5 if you don’t want to deal with this. Tl;dr: Mark Millar, the writer of the event, has a near pathological need to be a 3edgy5u contrarian.
Every comics crossover is ultimately a chance for one creative in the stable to shine or falter. The editors pick a writer who has turned out dependable work and give them a chance to try to alter the status quo but good. And for Civil War, Marvel’s EiC Joe Quesada decided the best person to lead the charge was Ultimates writer Mark Millar.
But who is Millar? Well, we could say “edgelord” and leave it at that, but we’re trying to dig deeper. Millar came up in comics alongside fellow Scot Grant Morrison, long before Morrison said the only time they want to bump into Millar on the streets of Glasgow is while going at 100 miles per hour. This antipathy is alleged to have stemmed from Millar copping several ideas from Morrison that went into Superman: Red Son. But after getting a start on Superman Adventures and as a cowriter on parts of Morrison’s JLA run, Millar soon branched out to WildStorm, where he took over The Authority from departing creatowritesex pest Warren Ellis.
The reason I bring up Red Son (for those non-geeks, an alternative universe comic premised on “What if Superman’s rocket had landed in Soviet Russia?”) is to frame a constant refrain about Mark Millar. He has good high-concept ideas… which often get trammeled up in an almost Pavlovian urge to shock, disturb, and/or titillate the reader. For instance, in The Authority, Ellis had introduced Apollo and Midnighter, two close companions who just happened to share the rough power sets and demeanors of Superman and Batman, with a few tweaks. Then he revealed they were boyfriends, which was a pretty bold move for a late Nineties comic book full of widescreen action and lovingly-rendered eviscerations.
In Millar’s first arc on the title, centered on a villainous Jack Kirby clone sending out a team of baddies who totally aren’t the Avengers, Apollo is subdued and is strongly implied to have been raped by someone who’s not Captain America. Apollo gets revenge by destroying EvilCap’s spinal column with his laser vision, then leaving him to the tender mercies of Midnighter, who is strongly implied to have sodomized him with a jackhammer.
In case you can’t tell, Millar loved him some rape. And it kept showing up in his creator-owned titles as well, all of which were basically written as Hollywood pitch docs. Wanted asks the question, “What if the supervillains won and secretly ruled the world from behind the scenes?” Well, an Eminem clone would take the opportunity to step into his dead villainous dad’s shoes and commit a lot of rape (yeah, there’s a reason the movie version replaced this with basically the Euthanatos from Mage: the Ascension getting orders from a magic loom). Chosen asks the question, “What if Jesus were born today?” Well, in a blatantly obvious twist, it turns out he’s actually the Antichrist, and part of his journey into realizing his evil nature involves being raped by all the demons of Hell.
It’s not that Millar can’t write innocent or restrained; he got started on the Superman: the Animated Series comic spin-off, and some of his titles such as Huck and Starlight have been praised for being relatively wholesome (keep in mind Huck is basically “What if Superman was Forrest Gump?” when I say “relatively”). And, as mentioned above, his works are made for high-concept log lines. You might recognize some of his various pitch docs: Kick-Ass, The Secret Service (source for the Kingsman movies), and, as mentioned above, Wanted. It’s just there’s this unctuous contrarian streak to a lot of his titles, a tendency to focus on venality, grotesquerie, and sodomy, with an air of pop culture edge. This also leaked into his image outside of his writing, with comments like “Games are for pedos” and ventures like the creator-owned comics periodical CLiNT (yes, the kerning is intentional). This streak continues to this day, as The Magic Order, a title that emerged from his deal with Netflix, features a magical escapologist who, she feels it very important to tell the reader in a direct monologue, escaped her own abortion. Bottom line, Millar has a sense of vision, but it’s betrayed at times by this reflexive desire to prove he’s smarter than the reader, to rub your face in the contradictions and make you a party to the artifice of it all. Usually with a dash of rape.
But at Marvel, Millar was riding the lightning of the Ultimate Universe. His Ultimates title was drawing on the wide-screen action image of JLA and The Authority, creating the cinematic language that would come to define the MCU. The choice to fantasy cast Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury is why we have Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury. He also painted the Hulk as a cannibalistic monster, cemented Hank Pym’s reputation as a wifebeater, and gave us Captain America yelling “Surrender? Do you think this A on my head stands for France?”, so let’s just keep that in perspective.
But the Ultimate Universe was its own pocket universe. Millar was being tapped to write a story for Earth-616, the main Marvel Universe. And he had a vision:

“I opted instead for making the superhero dilemma something a little different. People thought they were dangerous, but they did not want a ban. What they wanted was superheroes paid by the federal government like cops and open to the same kind of scrutiny. It was the perfect solution and nobody, as far as I'm aware, has done this before.”

Yeah. About that.
Part 1.5: What Has Come Before
Ultimately, the crux of Civil War is something that has been explored lightly in the past at Marvel: The idea that, instead of being unlicensed vigilantes who decide the best solution of societal issues is to beat up assholes in spandex, superheroes become licensed government officers that register their true identities with Uncle Sam and solve societal issues by beating up assholes in spandex. In Marvel’s history, it hasn’t gone well. The reality of government liaisons to superhero bodies has ranged from Valerie Cooper, who worked with government mutant team X-Factor but still found herself backing the genocidal Sentinel program as a big “Yeah, but what if…?”, to Henry Peter Gyrich, an inflamed obstructionist asshole who had to be held back from flipping a switch that would depower every superhuman individual on Earth. The idea of heroes themselves bristling against a government they disagreed with had a long history, as there was a period where Steve Rogers quit being Captain America, and the government had to find a replacement while he rode around on a motorcycle in a surprisingly slutty costume. But the idea of registering with the government has usually ended up on the “No” side due to one big cohort at Marvel: Mutants.
Ever since the days of Chris Claremont, a general conceit of the Marvel Universe is that mutants are a stand-in for your minority group of choice. Hated and feared, born different and feeling alienated, painted as an existential menace and threat to the status quo. Of course, it’s long been pointed out that the metaphor breaks down on the general grounds that, say, gays can’t shoot laser beams out of their eyes. I have my thoughts on that which I might share in the comments if someone pokes me hard enough, but it’s been general editorial consensus that people with powers, especially those of persecuted minorities, being compelled to share their true names, addresses, and natures with the federal government is a “That train’s never late!” move. Not only that, it’s a slippery slope. The classic X-Men story “Days of Future Past” is entirely premised on the idea that a government program of genocidal robots built to wipe out mutants will eventually run out of mutants… and then start turning on humans who could give birth to mutants, and then it’s Skynet all over again.
Another running meme in the Marvel Universe is that the X-Men usually exist in a Schrodinger’s cat situation with the rest of the superhero universe, both coexisting and in their own worlds. Yes, mutants have served on the Avengers, and yes, Thor intervened when the Morlocks were nearly wiped out in the sewers under New York. But Captain America, for all his proud statements of living up to America’s ideals, has a habit of missing the plot whenever the US government (or Canada, seat of all the Marvel Universe’s governmental evils - no, really) decides it’s Genocide O’Clock. And when the mutant nation of Genosha was completely wiped out by said murder robots, the Avengers seemed to be all “New phone who dis?” But when the two do intersect, there’s usually support for the mutants. One story in Fantastic Four had Reed Richards - Mr. Fantastic, stretchy man, greatest genius in the Marvel Universe, guy who’s probably being cucked by a fish-man - get tapped by the US government to make a device that detects mutants and other people with powers. He does… and then uses it to show why the government probably doesn’t want it, as it pings several members of Congress as having just enough genetic variation to qualify as “mutants,” even if they don’t have powers.
All in all, while the argument has some merit, for years, Marvel has come down on the position that asking people with powers to reveal their identities to the federal government is something that could go really bad if somebody with a hate-on for superheroes ends up in power. Something that would never happen oh yeah it totally did. But before it all went to Hell, Civil War at least gave an opportunity to reexamine the concept and see if it had merit.
It might have. But not with this argument.
Part 1.75: What Else Has Happened Before?
And now, some things that will ultimately give context for what happens next:

• In the pages of Thor, all of Asgard eventually runs headlong into Ragnarok. Thor and the rest of the Asgardians give their lives to save the earth, taking Thor off the board… for now.
• As mentioned above, the Avengers experience a critical fault due to Wanda going batshit (a common lament). With Avengers Mansion destroyed and the team at odds, it is eventually reunited under Tony Stark, who put the Avengers up in a tower he built.
• Nick Fury has vanished due to doing some skullduggery in the pages of the miniseries Secret War (no, not Secret Wars, this is different). Acting head of SHIELD, the all-purpose super spy squad of Marvel, is Maria Hill, who can’t seem to draw her pistol without shooting herself in the foot.
• Due to Wanda continuing to go batshit, the House of M crossover event ends with her casting a spell: “No more mutants.” While the damage is staunched, Earth-616’s population of mutants (which was recently established to be somewhere around 16 million) is reduced to 200, the rest being depowered or dying as a result of being depowered. This was because, as Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada said, the idea of mutants being everywhere made them “boring.” The fact that mutants were starting to be written less as a minority stand-in and more as an actual minority group with fashion, culture, music, and neighborhoods might have had something to do with that. From the wake of this event emerges Sally Floyd, a journalist whose own mutant daughter died before the mass depowering due to having a power that was more curse than blessing. The series Generation M follows her as the viewpoint character as she investigates the stories of former mutants.

Part 2: Connecticut Can’t Catch a Break
The big kick-off for Civil War involves the New Warriors, a team of teen heroes who have, as of a recently canceled series, been trying to make it big as reality TV stars. They get in a fight with a bunch of villains in the small town of Stamford, CT, when exploding villain Nitro goes positively nuclear, resulting in a blast much bigger than any he’s generated. [1] Not only does this mostly wipe out the New Warriors (save for kinetic energy-absorbing goofball Speedball), but it also happens to hit a nearby school. In the end, 612 people are dead, many of them children, and the nation wants answers.
With public opinion turning against the New Warriors, former member Hindsight starts leaking secret identities to get the heat off his back. This only makes things worse. Secret identities have only recently stopped being a thing for some heroes: Captain America only came out a few years ago, it was only recently that Tony Stark stopped pretending Iron Man was his bodyguard, and Daredevil was almost outed in the pages of his book. But something needs to be done, so Tony helps work with Congress to pass the Super Human Registration Act, which requires that all people with powers or working as vigilantes register their identities with the government to receive training and oversight. If you don’t? Believe it or not, jail, right away.
Fault lines quickly develop in the superhero community. While Tony is leading the “pro” side, alongside Reed Richards (yeah, we’ll get to that), Captain America, usually painted as the embodiment of the dream of America despite its compromised history and many sins, is against it. He’s lived through Richard Nixon being a secret fascist and shooting himself in the head after being fingered as mastermind of a vast criminal conspiracy (yes, that happened ); he knows how badly this could go in the wrong hands. Needless to say, Maria Hill and SHIELD hear his concerns, understand his problems with it, and are willing to iron out the kinks through reasoned debate.
Just kidding. Before the law has even been signed, Maria sics SHIELD’s elite Cape-Killers squad on Cap with the intent of getting him behind bars. Cap swiftly goes underground and starts his own group of anti-registration superheroes.
The fight continues for the next few issues. Spider-Man, caught in the middle, reveals himself to be Peter Parker at a press conference, declaring his support for the SHRA. Doctor Strange is so powerful that he tells the government to fuck off, and somehow, Maria Hill doesn’t decide to go charging up his asshole. Ben Grimm, the ever-loving blue-eyed Thing, is so sick of all the conflict he goes to France. But things are still at a stalemate, and while SHIELD may be acting like a bunch of merry assholes, it seems like there’s a debate to be had that could still be resolved reasonably… except for one key factor.
Part 3: I Fought the Law, and the Law… Huh?
No one ever really defined what the Super Human Registration Act, the legislation that tore the Marvel Universe’s superhero community asunder, did. Every book that had an issue that touched on the event seemed to have a different understanding of its principles, as well as just how fascist it might be in the long run. In the pages of She-Hulk, attorney Jennifer Walters/She-Hulk argues the law is a net good, as it gives heroes the backing and resources they need to not have to go it alone, while also having some measure of government oversight. In the pages of Civil War Frontline (oh, and we’ll get back to Civil War Frontline, don’t you worry), Wonder Man is told by the government that he needs to do a job for them, and if he refuses, well, one thousand years dungeon.
Which then leads into the other issue behind the SHRA. Namely, that everyone in favor was either starting to swing towards fascism or embracing bootlicking as a lifestyle, not a kink. In the pages of Amazing Spider-Man, Peter asks Reed Richards, who has always bucked authority and once stopped the US government from doing something just like this with mutants, why he’s pro-registration. Reed then reveals that an uncle who has never been mentioned before was called before HUAC; he refused to name names, his career was ruined, and he killed himself. From this, Reed - the man who stole a rocketship because the government said “no” to his planned space voyage - has learned that the government is always right, especially when they could step on your neck (this was received so badly that a later comic revealed he’d actually borrowed the concept of psychohistory from Asimov’s Foundation, he’d made it work somehow, and his calculations showed that this was the only way to avoid a greater disaster). This comic also revealed that people who were in violation of the SHRA were sent to a literal extradimensional Gitmo, a prison in the Negative Zone that later comics would reveal was overseen by… Captain Marvel. No, not that one. No, not that one. The Kree superhero Captain Mar-Vell, who had famously died of cancer decades before. How did he come back from the dead? Fuck if we know.
This “the law says what you want it to say” approach spread across various books and miniseries meant to cross over into the event. In the pages of a crossover mini between the Runaways and the Young Avengers, this meant SHIELD Cape-Killer squads were using lethal force against teenagers. The second-to-last issue of the mini ends with several members of both teams in extradimensional Gitmo, about to be dissected by a guy who’s horny for torture. The fact that all the captive heroes were the queer members of both teams? Total coincidence. Honestly.
So, it quickly becomes clear that the editorial control on this event is less than cohesive. There are different ideas all over as to what the SHRA does, and some of those ideas are tacking pretty fashy. But if the law is being painted as that bad, then clearly, there must be some greater statement of freedom vs. security. Maybe Millar’s really painting a subversive picture of what happens when you trade liberty for control, right?
Part 4: Why Do You Hate the Good Thing?
After the publication of Civil War #3, Millar would say in an interview he was actually pro-registration. I can’t find that interview, but here’s a similar sentiment shared years later:

“Weirdly, some of the other writers would often make Tony the bad guy, which I thought was a strange choice because I was actually on Tony’s side... In the real world, if somebody had superpowers, I’d like them to be registered in the same way that somebody who has a gun has to carry a license. But a gun can kill several people while a superhero can kill several thousands of people, so on a pragmatic level I’m 100% on Tony’s side. Maybe on a romantic level, Cap’s position makes sense but I don’t think anybody in the real world would really want that."”

And again, here’s the thing: He’s not entirely wrong. As said above, the idea of civil liberties for all and “free to me you and me” falls down a little when one of your neighbors can blow up a city block by thinking real hard. But Millar is fighting against years of ideological inertia in the Marvel Universe, as well as painting Captain America, the guy who has always embodied the ideal of a righteous, just America, as in the wrong. He needs to make one hell of an argument.
So here’s what happens in the pages of Civil War #3 to sell the audience on the SHRA:

• Thor comes back from the dead… and he’s on Tony’s side! Well, not really. Tony and Reed both realized that having one of the most beloved gods of the Marvel Universe come out on their side would be a big win… if only he wasn’t dead. So, they cloned him. Or rather, they T-800’d him, putting cloned divine flesh on a robot skeleton. But I’m sure he’s perfectly under control, and - oh, he just killed Goliath. In the next issue, one of Marvel’s black male heroes, frozen at the size of a small townhouse in death, will be buried in a gigantic ditch, wrapped in a tarp and chains. You’d think Hank Pym could grow a large enough coffin, at least.
• With Cap and the anti-registration side escaping once again, Tony decides he needs a dedicated team that can track down fugitive superhumans. To do so, he creates a new version of the Thunderbolts, a concept long associated with “villains acting like heroes.” And who does he put on this team? Venom, the Spider-Man villain who eats people’s brains; Bullseye, the Daredevil villain who will kill anyone for the lulz; and Norman Osborn, a.k.a. The Green Goblin, who famously murdered Spider-Man’s girlfriend Gwen Stacy.

Again. Tony’s in the right. The SHRA is good.
Part 5: Yadda, Yadda, Yadda
The next few issues of Civil War might best be described as “They fight, and fight, and fight and fight and fight.” The anti-registration side picks up The Punisher, Marvel’s most avowed murderer of criminals - and Cap is somewhat shocked but not entirely surprised when two minor villains join the anti-registration side and Frank promptly kills them on sight. Spider-Man starts realizing things are weird on the pro-reg side and defects, after he has set his entire life on fire. The X-Men have continued to stay out of this whole mess. In the lead-up, Emma Frost called Tony out on the Avengers’ complete absence when Genosha got nuked. Later, Carol Danvers (then Ms. Marvel, now Captain Marvel) will show up at the Xavier School to pitch the SHRA just after a massive terrorist attack kills dozens of students. Emma responds by telepathically dogwalking her.
By the final issue of the miniseries, the SHRA has expanded out into the Fifty States Initiative, wherein each state gets its own superteam. There’s a big final battle, Hercules kills Robo-Thor, and Cap nearly takes out Tony, only to be stopped by… the heroes of 9/11. No shit, Captain America is subdued by cops, firefighters, and paramedics. And when that happens, Cap finally takes a look around, realizes their big ideological street brawl has resulted in collateral damage, and surrenders. The SHRA wins, though Tony feels a little bad about it. Cap is ready to stand trial and to argue that, while he may have done something wrong, he did it for the right reasons.
Once again: Yeah. About that.
Part 6: MySpace Tom Didn’t Die For This
Running alongside Civil War is Civil War Frontline, a street-level book written by Paul Jenkins that managed to capture this world-breaking conflict through the eyes of people on the street. Though it has side stories, its main leads are Ben Urich, Peter Parker’s journalist buddy at The Daily Bugle, and the aforementioned Sally Floyd. Throughout the series, they start to realize there’s a story underneath the SHRA, as if somebody is playing the angles.
Before we talk about that conclusion, let’s talk about a side story. Remember how we said part of the comics community saw Identity Crisis as a driven effort to make things less “wacky” and intentionally darken the DCU? Well, that same tonal approach led to one of the more laughable moments of a pretty laughable arc. See, despite the fact that, as established, it was Nitro who blew up Stamford, it’s Speedball, the only survivor of the New Warriors, that views himself as responsible and is held up as a scapegoat by the general public. In addition, the blast screwed up his powers. Now, he doesn’t absorb and reflect kinetic energy; rather, he generates energy based on pain. So, he builds himself a new, extreme outfit lined with 612 spikes, one for each person who died in Stamford. This will drive his crusade to make things right - not as Speedball… but as Penance.
It was so laughably DeviantArt “OC do not steal” that no one could take it seriously. Look what you did, you took a perfectly good goofball and gave him an emo streak. The turn is swiftly mocked in other Marvel books, and it’s eventually revealed that Speedball still had his original powerset and always intended to put Nitro in the Goofy Suit of Dark Inner Torment as punishment for his crimes. But this turn gives you a sense of the tone and heft Jenkins was bringing to the proceedings.
Anyway, back to the main plot. Ben and Sally follow the thread as Namor, as he is wont to do, declares war on the surface world after an Atlantean diplomat is shot. But it turns out the assassination was arranged by Norman Osborn, who decided it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission and manipulated Atlantis into war so that Tony could have another piece of evidence for getting superhumans on a leash. And the two journalists deduce that, on some level, Tony had to know this would be an inevitable outcome of giving state backing to an unhinged mogul who dresses like a Power Rangers villain. Weighing what to do with this information, Ben and Sally, who are kind of sick of the collateral damage by this point, sit on it while they go in for an interview with Captain America, now in custody and willing to tell his side of the story.
And then. And then. The monologue. If you want a lesson in how to assassinate a character in 30 seconds or less, this monologue is a great example. Sally Floyd calls Captain America out as completely divorced from American values. Now, again, Captain America has long served as the beating liberal heart of the Marvel Universe. He has always represented an America that reckons with its legacy of things like internment camps, Manifest Destiny, and Jim Crow, in order to transcend these scars and embody the promise offered by Emma Lazarus’s New Colossus, carved on the side of the Statue of Liberty. Why is he out of touch with Americans at the dawn of the 21st century?
Well, he’s never heard of MySpace. [2] He doesn’t watch NASCAR. He doesn’t follow American Idol. There are pop culture moments that have aged like milk; this one had all the permanence of an ice cream cone in a blast furnace. But despite the inanity of Floyd’s argument - and trust me, there are fan edits dedicated to Cap pointing out how full of shit this argument is - it’s clear it represents something else. This is a post-9/11 world. Fuck civil liberties, we have a no-fly list and Gitmo, and if the American people really cared, they’d do something other than watch Simon Cowell read aspiring singers to filth. What does Captain America stand for in this moment of crisis?
Nothing. Because he just looks away from Sally Floyd. No doubt thinking, “Oh my God this bitch.” But to underline the argument in question, Sally storms out of the interview, Ben in tow. She still has that information on Norman Osborn’s false flag operation… and while she and Ben confront Tony on everything that went down, they decide the story should never see the light of day. Because they wouldn’t dare jeopardize the SHRA, because security is more important than the truth.
Oh. And then Cap gets shot. And dies. He totally dies (except he doesn’t but we’ll get to that). If ever there was an unintentional thesis statement for this event, running in the late stages of the Bush era, it would be this: “It’s better to trust that the powers that be who oversee the new America will keep you safe, even when they stage false flag operations, stick you in a gulag, and put their trust in monsters. All that civil liberty stuff was the old America. And the old America was hopeless. It wasn’t even on MySpace.”
Epilogue: Consequences Keep Consequencing
As you can tell from that last paragraph, a lot of the fan reception to Civil War likely had a lot to do with the period. This was the Bush era, a time where you were for America or against it. We were in the shadow of the Patriot Act, Gitmo, and widespread wiretaps, paranoid about what civil liberty we’d be asked to put on the pyre next in the name of Freedom. A story all about the warm, clenching fist of government control that tells you to ignore the collateral damage… well, it wasn’t great for the cultural moment.
The ideas of Civil War aren’t necessarily bad ones. I frame Cap as the liberal dream of what America could be, but there are good arguments to be made that America has never been that and Cap is just copium for liberals. His most recent title, Sentinel of Liberty, opens with Steve saying he is out of touch with the average American - not because he doesn’t watch NASCAR, but because he’s a WWII veteran who looks maybe 30 years old at most and whose best friends are all superheroes or spies. A narrative that has him on the wrong side of the issue and detonates his beliefs isn’t impossible, but it probably shouldn’t be one where people who got powers due to a fluke of birth or a radiation accident are told by the government, “Join with us or we’ll send supervillains after you.” Hell, as the Civil War movie proves, there is a way to tell a story about a superhero community torn in half by the idea of mandatory registration as government-controlled actors, and just why people would think that could be a bad idea (“Hey, remember when a good chunk of our intelligence apparatus turned out to be Nazi stay behinds?”).
But in the context of the era, and coupled with the execution, Civil War felt like a hard sell, and you could feel the thumb pressing on the scale every second while reading it. The moral center of the Marvel Universe is wrong, the winning side employs sadistic murderers and has an extradimensional Gitmo, and the writer is telling you that any sane individual would be on Team Green Goblin Employer.
So how did that all work out? Well…

• With Cap seemingly dead, shot by his brainwashed love interest Sharon Carter as part of a plot by the Red Skull, Bucky Barnes/the Winter Soldier becomes the new Cap. Only it turns out Steve wasn’t killed, but shot with a time bullet that Billy Pilgrims his ass. He eventually comes back.
• Thor comes back, finds out what Tony did, and beats his ass all the way across post-Katrina New Orleans (thank you to Powman_7 for the link).
• The Secret Invasion event happens next, which leads to Skrull infiltrators hitting everything (this is also the explanation for Captain Mar-Vell’s miraculous resurrection: He was a Skrull all along). With Tony caught with his pants down and Norman Osborn seeming to save the day, Norman - who has been losing his shit for some time - takes over the Initiative and forms his own fascist cabal, HAMMER. To try and stop Norman from learning everything on every hero ever, Tony goes on the run and actually starts deleting his own brain, which he then reassembles with a backup from before anyone even thought of the SHRA. The fact that getting rid of Tony’s “Oops I did a fascism” period came out alongside Iron Man hitting theaters is a coincidence, I’m sure.

As for Spider-Man? It might not shock you, but having a hero without the resources of Tony Stark out himself to the world carries liabilities. An assassin who tries to kill Peter instead hits Aunt May, and it appears she’ll die of her injuries. All this leads to One More Day… and if you thought the fans hated Civil War? Oh, BABY.
[1] This is eventually explored in the pages of Wolverine, of all books, as Wolverine decides maybe somebody should track down the person who actually killed hundreds of children. It’s revealed that Nitro was given power-boosting drugs by the CEO of Damage Control, Marvel’s designated “clean up after the super-battle” corporation, as a way of generating business. In a sign of how little this matters, Wolverine tells Maria Hill to her face that the person responsible for a mass casualty event is the pawn of a powerful conspiracy, and she basically says, “Not my problem.” Cobie Smulders must thank the gods that her Maria Hill is written as somebody with basic human decency.
[2] Hilariously, when Sally Floyd was brought back during Nick Spencer’s Captain America run because no one had piled enough dung on her corpse, this line was retconned to her asking him about Twitter. Given everything Elon’s been doing lately, we’ll see if that ages just as poorly.

I was listening to an episode from The Indicator: "The dangers of money market funds" and it mentioned that MMFs are, according to Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen, higher risk than is often presented here.
Yellen’s comments specific to mmfs are from https://home.treasury.gov/news/press-releases/jy1376 under section III.B. (from March 2023) and begin with this:
​

If there is any place where the vulnerabilities of the system to runs and fire sales have been clear-cut, it is money market funds. These funds are widely used by retail and institutional investors for cash management; they provide a close substitute for bank deposits. Before the post-crisis reforms implemented by the SEC, all money market funds were generally expected to maintain a fixed $1 net asset value per share. The stable NAV was normally achievable because funds were generally limited to investments that were considered to be low risk. These funds were allowed to round their share prices to $1 when the market value of their investments fell – as long as it stayed above a certain level. But a fund had to respond if its market value fell below that level – that is, if it “broke the buck.” In that case, these funds would have to reprice, and they might cease withdrawals and liquidate their assets.

I thought this might be a good topic for discussion. Does this discourage anyone here from using these funds/sweep accounts?
EDIT: fixed spelling of name and added apostrophe

Available now, Xfinity is giving all its customers more entertainment to enjoy in the Xfinity Stream app with the addition of 20+ free ad-supported streaming TV (FAST) channels from Xumo Play, NBC and Sky. These channels are available to any Xfinity customer, regardless of whether they subscribe to Xfinity Video, at no extra cost.
Upon signing into Stream, customers will see free TV shows and movies seamlessly integrated within the channel guide and elsewhere throughout the experience. This approach makes it easy for Xfinity customers to surf between any subscribed channels and FAST channels to find something to watch without having to toggle between apps.
These new channels include NBC News NOW, Sky News, and 19 Xumo-branded channels, offering customers a wide variety of news, movies and TV shows spanning genres such as comedy, crime TV, black cinema, lifestyle, reality TV, game shows, kids and more. Comcast plans to bring more FAST channels to the Stream app in the future.
For additional information on Fast Channels on Xfinity, please see here https://corporate.comcast.com/stories/comcast-integrates-free-fast-channels-from-xumo-play-nbc-sky-into-xfinity-stream

PYR.TO (ASK @ 1.10)
PyroGenesis Canada Inc. ( http://pyrogenesis.com ) , a TSX30® and a Deloitte Canada Clean Technology Fast 50TM high-tech company that :

• designs,
• develops,
• manufactures
• and commercializes
• advanced plasma processes and sustainable solutions which are geared to reduce greenhouse gases (GHG),
• confirms that, as announced earlier today by HPQ Silicon (“HPQ”),
• the PUREVAPTM Quartz Reduction Reactor (QRR) designed and built by PyroGenesis
• achieved successful laboratory validation of quartz to high-purity 3N+ silicon in one step.

As noted in HPQ’s news release, the results of an analysis of recent test samples from PyroGenesis’ PUREVAP QRR process carried out by Balazs NanoAnalysis (a division of Air Liquide Electronics),

• a global high-tech analytical laboratory,
• confirmed that the PUREVAP QRR produced silicon from quartz in a single step
• with a purity exceeding 3N+ (99.92%).

“We are pleased to confirm the test results announced earlier today by HPQ”, said Mr. P. Peter Pascali, CEO and President of PyroGenesis.
“Collaboratively with HPQ, we have been working towards this goal for quite some time, and now with these independent test results our shared goal of creating a process that simplifies and optimizes the production of high purity silicon has been achieved.”
“The implications of a one-step process in the manufacturing of high purity silicon direct from quartz is significant, both from a cost benefit perspective as well as from a critical mineral optimization perspective,”

• continued Mr. Pascali.

“This presents PyroGenesis with a unique and exciting commercial opportunity highlighted by

• (i) the strategic investment we have in HPQ,
• (ii) the possibility that HPQ will require additional PUREVAP QRR systems as a result of these findings, and last but not least
• (iii) our 10% royalty payment on HPQ’s eventual sales of the improved silicon.”

While the results of the analysis are highly encouraging, there is no timeline in terms of when HPQ will be in a position to produce the improved silicon on a large commercial scale.
Working with PyroGenesis, HPQ will now carry out final adjustments, smaller tests, and a subsequent engineering study to determine the profitability of producing the improved silicon on a larger scale.
Subject to this additional testing and planning, HPQ will then determine the number of PUREVAP QRR systems required for the construction of a full commercial plant.
As noted previously, HPQ believes that, based on what is known today,

• at least two PUREVAP QRR systems,
• with each reactor capable of producing 2,500 MT of high-purity silicon per year,
• would be required.

PyroGenesis and HPQ have estimated the cost of each PUREVAP QRR system to be at least $20 million.

PyroGenesis’ involvement in the development of high-purity silicon from quartz is part of PyroGenesis’ three-tiered solution ecosystem that aligns with economic drivers that are key to global heavy industry.
High-purity silicon is part of PyroGenesis’ Commodity Security & Optimization tier, where the recovery of viable metals, and the optimization of production to increase output, helps to maximize raw materials and improve the availability of critical minerals.
Silicon has been identified as a critical mineral by many governments worldwide.

About HPQ Silicon

HPQ Silicon Inc. (TSX-V: HPQ) is a Quebec-based innovative silicon solutions company that offers innovative silica (SiO2), silicon (Si) based solutions and is developing a unique portfolio of high value-added silicon (Si) products sought after by battery and electric vehicle manufacturers.
Silicon (Si), also known as silicon metal, is one of today’s key strategic materials needed for the decarbonization of the economy and the Renewable Energy Revolution (“RER”).
However, silicon does not exist in its pure state

• and must be extracted from quartz (SiO2)
• in what has historically been a capital and energy-intensive process.

With PyroGenesis, HPQ is developing:

1. the PUREVAP™ “Quartz Reduction Reactors” (QRR), an innovative process (patent pending), which will permit the one-step transformation of quartz (SiO2) into high purity silicon (Si) at reduced costs, energy input, and carbon footprint that will propagate its considerable renewable energy potential.
2. Through its 100% owned subsidiary, HPQ NANO Silicon Powders Inc., the PUREVAP™ Nano Silicon Reactor (NSiR) is a new proprietary process that can use material produced by the QRR as feedstock, to make a wide range of nano/micro spherical powders of different sizes and nanowires.
3. Through its second 100% owned subsidiary, HPQ Silica POLVERE Inc., HPQ is developing a new plasma-based process that will allows a direct quartz to fumed silica transformation, removing the usage of hazardous chemical in the making of fumed silica and eliminating the Hydrogen Chloride Gas (HCI) associated with its manufacturing.

About PyroGenesis Canada Inc.
PyroGenesis Canada Inc., a high-tech company, is a proud leader in the design, development, manufacture and commercialization of advanced plasma processes and sustainable solutions which reduce GHG and are economically attractive alternatives to conventional “dirty” processes.
PyroGenesis has created proprietary, patented and advanced plasma technologies that are being vetted and adopted by multiple multibillion dollar industry leaders in four massive markets:

• iron ore pelletization,
• aluminum,
• waste management,
• and additive manufacturing.

​

• With a team of experienced engineers, scientists and technicians
• working out of its Montreal office,
• and its 3,800 m2 and 2,940 m2 manufacturing facilities,
• PyroGenesis maintains its competitive advantage
• by remaining at the forefront of technology development and commercialization.

The operations are ISO 9001:2015 and AS9100D certified, having been ISO certified since 1997.
For more information, please visit: www.pyrogenesis.com.
​
For further information please contact: Rodayna Kafal, Vice President, IComms. and Strategic BD Phone: (514) 937-0002, E-mail: [email protected]
RELATED LINK: http://www.pyrogenesis.com/

PYR (ASK @ 0.82)
PyroGenesis Canada Inc. ( http://pyrogenesis.com ) , a TSX30® and a Deloitte Canada Clean Technology Fast 50TM high-tech company that :

• designs,
• develops,
• manufactures
• and commercializes
• advanced plasma processes and sustainable solutions which are geared to reduce greenhouse gases (GHG),
• confirms that, as announced earlier today by HPQ Silicon (“HPQ”),
• the PUREVAPTM Quartz Reduction Reactor (QRR) designed and built by PyroGenesis
• achieved successful laboratory validation of quartz to high-purity 3N+ silicon in one step.

As noted in HPQ’s news release, the results of an analysis of recent test samples from PyroGenesis’ PUREVAP QRR process carried out by Balazs NanoAnalysis (a division of Air Liquide Electronics),

• a global high-tech analytical laboratory,
• confirmed that the PUREVAP QRR produced silicon from quartz in a single step
• with a purity exceeding 3N+ (99.92%).

“We are pleased to confirm the test results announced earlier today by HPQ”, said Mr. P. Peter Pascali, CEO and President of PyroGenesis.
“Collaboratively with HPQ, we have been working towards this goal for quite some time, and now with these independent test results our shared goal of creating a process that simplifies and optimizes the production of high purity silicon has been achieved.”
“The implications of a one-step process in the manufacturing of high purity silicon direct from quartz is significant, both from a cost benefit perspective as well as from a critical mineral optimization perspective,”

• continued Mr. Pascali.

“This presents PyroGenesis with a unique and exciting commercial opportunity highlighted by

• (i) the strategic investment we have in HPQ,
• (ii) the possibility that HPQ will require additional PUREVAP QRR systems as a result of these findings, and last but not least
• (iii) our 10% royalty payment on HPQ’s eventual sales of the improved silicon.”

While the results of the analysis are highly encouraging, there is no timeline in terms of when HPQ will be in a position to produce the improved silicon on a large commercial scale.
Working with PyroGenesis, HPQ will now carry out final adjustments, smaller tests, and a subsequent engineering study to determine the profitability of producing the improved silicon on a larger scale.
Subject to this additional testing and planning, HPQ will then determine the number of PUREVAP QRR systems required for the construction of a full commercial plant.
As noted previously, HPQ believes that, based on what is known today,

• at least two PUREVAP QRR systems,
• with each reactor capable of producing 2,500 MT of high-purity silicon per year,
• would be required.

PyroGenesis and HPQ have estimated the cost of each PUREVAP QRR system to be at least $20 million.

PyroGenesis’ involvement in the development of high-purity silicon from quartz is part of PyroGenesis’ three-tiered solution ecosystem that aligns with economic drivers that are key to global heavy industry.
High-purity silicon is part of PyroGenesis’ Commodity Security & Optimization tier, where the recovery of viable metals, and the optimization of production to increase output, helps to maximize raw materials and improve the availability of critical minerals.
Silicon has been identified as a critical mineral by many governments worldwide.

About HPQ Silicon

HPQ Silicon Inc. (TSX-V: HPQ) is a Quebec-based innovative silicon solutions company that offers innovative silica (SiO2), silicon (Si) based solutions and is developing a unique portfolio of high value-added silicon (Si) products sought after by battery and electric vehicle manufacturers.
Silicon (Si), also known as silicon metal, is one of today’s key strategic materials needed for the decarbonization of the economy and the Renewable Energy Revolution (“RER”).
However, silicon does not exist in its pure state

• and must be extracted from quartz (SiO2)
• in what has historically been a capital and energy-intensive process.

With PyroGenesis, HPQ is developing:

1. the PUREVAP™ “Quartz Reduction Reactors” (QRR), an innovative process (patent pending), which will permit the one-step transformation of quartz (SiO2) into high purity silicon (Si) at reduced costs, energy input, and carbon footprint that will propagate its considerable renewable energy potential.
2. Through its 100% owned subsidiary, HPQ NANO Silicon Powders Inc., the PUREVAP™ Nano Silicon Reactor (NSiR) is a new proprietary process that can use material produced by the QRR as feedstock, to make a wide range of nano/micro spherical powders of different sizes and nanowires.
3. Through its second 100% owned subsidiary, HPQ Silica POLVERE Inc., HPQ is developing a new plasma-based process that will allows a direct quartz to fumed silica transformation, removing the usage of hazardous chemical in the making of fumed silica and eliminating the Hydrogen Chloride Gas (HCI) associated with its manufacturing.

About PyroGenesis Canada Inc.
PyroGenesis Canada Inc., a high-tech company, is a proud leader in the design, development, manufacture and commercialization of advanced plasma processes and sustainable solutions which reduce GHG and are economically attractive alternatives to conventional “dirty” processes.
PyroGenesis has created proprietary, patented and advanced plasma technologies that are being vetted and adopted by multiple multibillion dollar industry leaders in four massive markets:

• iron ore pelletization,
• aluminum,
• waste management,
• and additive manufacturing.

​

• With a team of experienced engineers, scientists and technicians
• working out of its Montreal office,
• and its 3,800 m2 and 2,940 m2 manufacturing facilities,
• PyroGenesis maintains its competitive advantage
• by remaining at the forefront of technology development and commercialization.

The operations are ISO 9001:2015 and AS9100D certified, having been ISO certified since 1997.
For more information, please visit: www.pyrogenesis.com.
​
For further information please contact: Rodayna Kafal, Vice President, IComms. and Strategic BD Phone: (514) 937-0002, E-mail: [email protected]
RELATED LINK: http://www.pyrogenesis.com/

PYR (ASK @ 0.82)
PYR.TO (ASK @ 1.10)
PyroGenesis Canada Inc. ( http://pyrogenesis.com ) , a TSX30® and a Deloitte Canada Clean Technology Fast 50TM high-tech company that :

• designs,
• develops,
• manufactures
• and commercializes
• advanced plasma processes and sustainable solutions which are geared to reduce greenhouse gases (GHG),
• confirms that, as announced earlier today by HPQ Silicon (“HPQ”),
• the PUREVAPTM Quartz Reduction Reactor (QRR) designed and built by PyroGenesis
• achieved successful laboratory validation of quartz to high-purity 3N+ silicon in one step.

As noted in HPQ’s news release, the results of an analysis of recent test samples from PyroGenesis’ PUREVAP QRR process carried out by Balazs NanoAnalysis (a division of Air Liquide Electronics),

• a global high-tech analytical laboratory,
• confirmed that the PUREVAP QRR produced silicon from quartz in a single step
• with a purity exceeding 3N+ (99.92%).

“We are pleased to confirm the test results announced earlier today by HPQ”, said Mr. P. Peter Pascali, CEO and President of PyroGenesis.
“Collaboratively with HPQ, we have been working towards this goal for quite some time, and now with these independent test results our shared goal of creating a process that simplifies and optimizes the production of high purity silicon has been achieved.”
“The implications of a one-step process in the manufacturing of high purity silicon direct from quartz is significant, both from a cost benefit perspective as well as from a critical mineral optimization perspective,”

• continued Mr. Pascali.

“This presents PyroGenesis with a unique and exciting commercial opportunity highlighted by

• (i) the strategic investment we have in HPQ,
• (ii) the possibility that HPQ will require additional PUREVAP QRR systems as a result of these findings, and last but not least
• (iii) our 10% royalty payment on HPQ’s eventual sales of the improved silicon.”

While the results of the analysis are highly encouraging, there is no timeline in terms of when HPQ will be in a position to produce the improved silicon on a large commercial scale.
Working with PyroGenesis, HPQ will now carry out final adjustments, smaller tests, and a subsequent engineering study to determine the profitability of producing the improved silicon on a larger scale.
Subject to this additional testing and planning, HPQ will then determine the number of PUREVAP QRR systems required for the construction of a full commercial plant.
As noted previously, HPQ believes that, based on what is known today,

• at least two PUREVAP QRR systems,
• with each reactor capable of producing 2,500 MT of high-purity silicon per year,
• would be required.

PyroGenesis and HPQ have estimated the cost of each PUREVAP QRR system to be at least $20 million.

PyroGenesis’ involvement in the development of high-purity silicon from quartz is part of PyroGenesis’ three-tiered solution ecosystem that aligns with economic drivers that are key to global heavy industry.
High-purity silicon is part of PyroGenesis’ Commodity Security & Optimization tier, where the recovery of viable metals, and the optimization of production to increase output, helps to maximize raw materials and improve the availability of critical minerals.
Silicon has been identified as a critical mineral by many governments worldwide.

About HPQ Silicon

HPQ Silicon Inc. (TSX-V: HPQ) is a Quebec-based innovative silicon solutions company that offers innovative silica (SiO2), silicon (Si) based solutions and is developing a unique portfolio of high value-added silicon (Si) products sought after by battery and electric vehicle manufacturers.
Silicon (Si), also known as silicon metal, is one of today’s key strategic materials needed for the decarbonization of the economy and the Renewable Energy Revolution (“RER”).
However, silicon does not exist in its pure state

• and must be extracted from quartz (SiO2)
• in what has historically been a capital and energy-intensive process.

With PyroGenesis, HPQ is developing:

1. the PUREVAP™ “Quartz Reduction Reactors” (QRR), an innovative process (patent pending), which will permit the one-step transformation of quartz (SiO2) into high purity silicon (Si) at reduced costs, energy input, and carbon footprint that will propagate its considerable renewable energy potential.
2. Through its 100% owned subsidiary, HPQ NANO Silicon Powders Inc., the PUREVAP™ Nano Silicon Reactor (NSiR) is a new proprietary process that can use material produced by the QRR as feedstock, to make a wide range of nano/micro spherical powders of different sizes and nanowires.
3. Through its second 100% owned subsidiary, HPQ Silica POLVERE Inc., HPQ is developing a new plasma-based process that will allows a direct quartz to fumed silica transformation, removing the usage of hazardous chemical in the making of fumed silica and eliminating the Hydrogen Chloride Gas (HCI) associated with its manufacturing.

About PyroGenesis Canada Inc.
PyroGenesis Canada Inc., a high-tech company, is a proud leader in the design, development, manufacture and commercialization of advanced plasma processes and sustainable solutions which reduce GHG and are economically attractive alternatives to conventional “dirty” processes.
PyroGenesis has created proprietary, patented and advanced plasma technologies that are being vetted and adopted by multiple multibillion dollar industry leaders in four massive markets:

• iron ore pelletization,
• aluminum,
• waste management,
• and additive manufacturing.

​

• With a team of experienced engineers, scientists and technicians
• working out of its Montreal office,
• and its 3,800 m2 and 2,940 m2 manufacturing facilities,
• PyroGenesis maintains its competitive advantage
• by remaining at the forefront of technology development and commercialization.

The operations are ISO 9001:2015 and AS9100D certified, having been ISO certified since 1997.
For more information, please visit: www.pyrogenesis.com.
​
For further information please contact: Rodayna Kafal, Vice President, IComms. and Strategic BD Phone: (514) 937-0002, E-mail: [email protected]
RELATED LINK: http://www.pyrogenesis.com/

“HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!”
A laugh, what does it mean for a person? A sign of amusement? A mark of contentment? Maybe, a reaction to a quirky comment or action? Perhaps…
But now, all that echoed throughout the burning lands was a guffaw of despair and torment. It belonged to Eve, the future queen of the entire Confederation of Demons. And right now, no trace of royal dignity was to be seen within her. The woman was pulling her white hair, kneeling in her sphere at the sight of the mass-murder.
The snow of death, the sprinkled ash of white and purple fell upon the ground, taking hundreds of lives. Gramgrim, the strongest and the fiercest formation underneath the authority of Me-ua now perished like slugs under the salt. Orcs, dogs, trolls, deer, lions, crows, fiends, mind-flayers, tigers, boars, even a cult of bulls-necromancers – the brigade included many different races, men and women of different backgrounds and upbringings, their tamed beasts and familiars, slaves and draft animals. Looking at the southern organizations, consisting of various Ma-zok tribes was always fascinating. Especially, when none of them could withstand the divine plague, sent as a godly punishment for defiling the holy land of kokuyoku.
Was there any way to save themselves? Yes – they simply never should’ve come to the village. Now, though? Well, not even Panakea’s blessing could save Keyaruga from death, so why should any of them survive?
Such was Eve’s wrath; such was her sorrow, enshrined upon this wretched world.
“Fascinating.,,” Keyaruga muttered, looking underneath him. He couldn’t help but to feel glee. After all, hundreds upon hundreds of high-leveled demons perished, blessing the whole party of five with new levels to enjoy (or hate, in Ellen’s case). Strange, though. Normally, a party couldn’t be larger than four people (not that a mortal had control over it anyway; people could travel in however big assemblies, as they pleased, yet experience was earned only by parties of four), but the group stuck together pretty well. Was it another of Caladrius’ gifts, she just didn’t bother to share? Well, whatever the case…
“I know, it’s not a reason for joy… but we can definitely use all that power in our future battles.” Freia mused with a trace of regret in her voice.
“Uh-huh. Good thing to get stronger before we go after the demon king.” Setsuna supported, trapped in a conflict between joy at reaching her new threshold of power and fury for losing Visou.
“Of course this would happen… This always happens with those people and places I care for or love… I shouldn’t have taken this damned bracelet…” Keyaruga growled, looking at the yorkama talisman on his right wrist. Yet, when he was about to rip it away…
“Don’t do that.” …Ellen stopped him. For the first time in this nightmarish day she was thankful for her new powers, as they allowed her to stop her ‘brother’ from an act of utter stupidity. “It’s not your fault. Look, they came here, seeking Hakuo’s rival! Your sympathy has nothing to do with that, stop dealing in superstitions!” The Apostle of Caladrius attempted to reassure the lad. But alas…
“It’s my fault. Like Visou… like Alban… like Karman… It’s all been my fault.” …the man just wouldn’t listen.
“No… it was mine…” The crimson-haired cutie whispered, yet once again – no reaction. “Hey, brother, see that breached wall behind Mil’s house? I see traces there. Could you, maybe?..”
“Yes… Oh, Ellen, thank you!” Only when she pointed out the obvious, did the man finally wake up from his trance. Just in time to hear…
“KILL!!! KILL THEM ALL!!!” …this. Eve still couldn’t really master her raging emotions, and even the fact that no creature remained alive in the burning village stopped her in any way.
“Hm, I am saddened to inform you, little one, that there is nobody to slay here. And even if there were, I am unable to maintain the offence. I need to feed and regain my strength now.” Caladrius admonished, descending on the earth. “However, down the north road, you may find other survivors. Just make haste; they do not have much time.” The harbinger of plague informed the group, putting the white sphere on the ground. The barrier had faded just as all poisonous ash did as well, coincidentally.
Keyaruga, Setsuna, Eve, Freia, Ellen, Kelly, Patty – all could finally walk properly again. Not really a big perk, when all you’re finding yourself among the still burning remains of a ruined village, though.
“O pluvia clemens, benedic nobis tua gratia recreativa.” Fortunately, they had the Hero of Magic at their side. And so, the first thing Freia did was to cast a simple rain spell. A critically important move, especially when their raptors were getting panicked by the fires.
“Now, if you excuse me.” And what would horrify any sentient being was how gruesomely filthy Caladrius turned out to be. The very first thing she did when the party had finally landed was to grab some dead slimy bastard, and just swallow him whole, like some sort of a pelican.
“Hey! Hey! Hey! He-e-ey!!! The hell are you doing?!” The younger princess yawped, consumed by her anger. Not because she was disgusted, though… “You fucking munched him with all that armor and shit?! What’re you even thinking of?! We need that!”
“I do not care, Apostle. Unless you are willing to strip them yourself, your whining is of little concern to me.” The deity replied dismissively. Even if her plague faded without a trace, the diseased corpses were still a delicacy for Caladrius.
And here I thought Ellen was slandering her about this part. Thought it was just a nice joke. Apparently, not, Keyaruga mused, witnessing the same vile spectacle as his girls did.
“Well, I’m willing as hell! You can buy an entire village for one of those!” The young lady snarled, turning one of the corpses over, just to untie the leashes that held a cuirass in place. When people die, their rectum can’t hold feces anymore. The stench of death, dung, decay, the earth, wet and softened by the rain – so much filth among the corpses, and yet, the warlady felt overjoyed looting the corpses of their fallen enemies before tossing their naked bodies toward her hungry patron.
“Keyaruga, I think, we should…” Freia softly spoke, pointing at the breach on the northern side. She wasn’t overly enthusiastic about defiling the dead, so maybe…
“No, I’m going alone.” Sadly, the healer wouldn’t let anyone accompany him in this quest. Even the golden egg had to leave his back right now. He knew who he was pursuing. And what he would do to his enemies, once he’d reached them. “Setsuna, Freia, hold this, and stay here, and watch out for Eve, and… Well, you may also help Ellen with looting.” The lad spoke, completely ignoring the rain that fell upon his head.
“Uh-huh, got it.” The gray-haired girl agreed, putting the straps holding their unborn ‘child’ on her back. Strangely enough, the ice warrior was more than happy with pillaging the corpses. With her arms being covered in the frozen gauntlets, the girl could easily strip the fallen brigadiers to Ellen’s obvious delight.
“I… think I should bury the villagers.” Freia, on the other hand, grabbed a shovel somewhere. Instead of defiling the dead, she wanted to properly inter the remains of the poor black-wings… until their bodies were eaten by their own god.
“Whatever you wish… Just don’t forget to cut off their wings.” The man ordered, tossing away everything from Kelly’s saddle. He needed speed, not sustainability.
“I see… feathers… magic catalysts…” The sorceress instantly understood what the hero wanted from the fallen villagers. To be honest, that sort of cruelty paled compared to what their enemies sometimes allowed themselves. It didn’t make the pink-haired girl any happier, though.
“Wait!” Finally, just as Keyaruga was about to climb on his reptile steed, he got a companion in the form of the queen-to-be. “I’m… going with you!..” She spoke wearily, yet her tone wouldn’t brook any denial.
“You shouldn’t, Eve. You’re too drained as it is, I can’t risk you now.” That didn’t work on the new hero, though. The red-eyed lad knew, what kind of atrocities he was about to commit. What’s worse – he was looking forward for them.
“No… You know I can’t be killed that easily.” The white-haired woman insisted, allowing herself to climb in the saddle no matter what Keyaruga wanted. “Also, those are my people we’re talking about.”
“Alright…” The man nodded, giving one last brief look at what travesty was currently occuring on this holy ground: hundreds of corpses, two enthusiastic looter-girls stripping them before feeding them to the goddess that was primarily supposed to guard this place from such tragedies, and the strongest mage in the world, cutting off wings with her wavy dagger. All gave him a brief look. “Girls, lady Caladrius, you stay here! The raptor we’re taking will go faster carrying only two of us.” The healer admonished, silently praising himself for not including the plague incarnate in the ranks of his lovers. Wouldn’t that be awkward?
“Uh-huh. Good luck, you two.” Setsuna waved her armored hand, happily proceeding with robbing the corpses.
“Yeah… thanks. We’ll need it.”
…
The forest had been defiled. A trace of bodies, both kokuyoku and their ruthless persecutors, marked a path for the hero and his queen. Faster! Faster! The man smacked his reptile with his heels, struck against the ribs, pulled every bit of speed from poor Kelly. So much so, that even wild scavengers, who came to feast on the corpses, just fled from the massive raptor. And yet, it still wasn’t enough…
“Hey, Keyaruga!” Eve spoke, holding onto the hero’s torso with her trembling arms. “Why are you even helping us? Why… do you even bother, if they die no matter what we do?” The queen-to-be asked melancholically. Right now, she tried to find at least some meaning in her existence, just to not fall into a pit of nihilism and despair.
“It’s because… I have power. I can make a difference. And because I want to do so.” The red-haired lad responded, navigating a path through the woods with his jade eye. His status elevated him above the rest, giving the man many abilities, some considered to be… unnatural. For example, he could easily alleviate Kelly’s fatigue from constant galloping.
“Power, yes?.. The onslaught… it began when Caladrius was playing with us… But instead of putting an end to this hell, she’d go on, and on, and on… And even when we got out, she never told us what was going on. When I asked her to bless you, I was scared… and discomforted, and… whatever other words you have for discomfort. I thought it was because of the trial… Thought it was over… Then… I looked at myself, my own actions, here and in the past.” Eve shared the burden of her guilt with Keyaruga. The white-haired woman couldn’t help but blame herself for everything that happened. If she didn’t ignore her feelings, if she had checked on her wings a little earlier, if she… “If I… If I just could…”
“Was that what you saw in your challenge?” The healer wondered, trying to get his companion out of this ruinous obsession over what nobody could prevent, or even predict.
“Ugm… Who did you meet there?” Did he fail? No, not really. But instead of giving him an answer, the queen-to-be countered with a question of her own.
“Many, many people… I don’t want to talk about it now.” Unfortunately, though, Keyaruga just couldn’t bring himself to reveal what he saw, heard… did with his own hands.
“I… I see…” Eve murmured, getting a message from the lad’s depressed tone. He too carried much pain in his soul, and that vortex of suffering could never be dissipated by shutting down just some of his emotions. To completely silence this pain, Keyaruga would have to become something else entirely, something inhuman, incapable of either hate or love.
“More important, Eve, I want you to sharpen your senses. Maybe, you can trace magic better than me.” The hero suggested, as his right eye rolled around in his socket. The forest was wide and thick, and his sight wasn’t as all-seeing as he’d like it to be.
“I’ll try.” Eve whispered, trying to focus her attention on the ambient mana. Maybe, if she was just diligent enough, she could trace her living brethren? Maybe, all wasn’t lost just yet? Maybe… “You know, Keyaruga, you’re not the guilty one in all of this… If Mil didn’t let everyone in, if I wasn’t saved by your goddess, if our goddess wasn’t just like Ellen says she is… than none of this horror would have happened.” The lady in red deadpanned cautiously. Now that she knew of her ‘future’, how it might’ve been without this self-conflicted man at her side, the kokuyoku scion could clearly tell – her grandfather was just like Keyaruga and Ellen, he wanted the best for his people… and that turned Visou into a deathtrap. After all, Hakuo wouldn’t have sent Gramgrim here if Cornar had come to him with the valuable bounty that was the black-wings’ princess.
“I’m sorry…” The healer uttered, still unaware, just how much of a monster Eve’s first husband really was, and how much she owed him for showing, how the love should even look like in the first place.
“You really shouldn’t be, Keyaruga.” The black-winged prodigy responded sorrowfully. She felt the lad’s distress: it was in his voice, his posture, his way of breathing… “You can’t just carry the burden for everyone else. I tried… and I failed.” Eve spoke, trying to dissuade her defender from thinking he was able to hold the whole world on his shoulders, when, in reality, it was simply impossible. “Don’t do that. You’ll break.” This calm phrase was spoken serenely, and yet, it was a cry. A cry for help, for understanding, for letting go.
“We don’t need Caladrius.” But Keyaruga just couldn’t release himself from this burden. Even now, when riding over the forest floor, covered in disfigured corpses, most of which were charred whole, seemingly by lightning, the man couldn’t stop thinking about Eve, her troubles, the tragic price her ultimate power might demand from her.
“Why?” The lady in red asked, attempting to follow the new line of conversation which her companion had turned to. Why would he even be scared of it? Didn’t Ellen bargain two free casts for her? Ellen… How could this capricious princess be able to extort such a valuable gift from the harbinger of plague? If Eve had done something like this in the first world… then there wouldn’t be the second one.
“She’s… too frivolous, arrogant, she’s thousands years old, yet all I see is an old snobby child with no backbone. We can’t be sure she’ll maintain her promise, and I really, really don’t want to see you wither away.” The man said with that seemingly careless voice of his. “If you need someone dead, I’ll be there for you.” He added grimly then. Eve was too soft, even now, she still couldn’t deal with the moral compromises necessary, and there were going to be a lot more of them on the way toward the Obsidian Throne.
“Hah… You really do want me to fall in love with you?” The queen-to-be noted somewhat playfully. Her mood was still sombered, but even so, there was always a light in the darkness.
“Heh, aren’t you already? I can tell – you’ve changed, so that you could keep up with me, especially in the bed.” Keyaruga followed this little funny road, and retaliated with a joke of his own. But… was it really a joke, though?
“Yes… Yes, I have.” Apparently, not. “I can’t force you to become your old self, but I had a chance to change myself.” Eve explained, lowering her head. She couldn’t keep up with the man last night – he was just too big for her. That’s why, the girl had to go, the queen-to-be had to become a woman, and fast.
And so, there could be only one thing to ask at this point.
“So, do you want to fuck, once this is over?” The hero unceremoniously inquired from his companion. After all, they were already past all those earlier insults and attempts at shaming from Eve’s side.
“Yes, I do! I really, really do. I want you to ravage me, so I wouldn’t go mad.” The Me-ua kahul responded with a plea of sorrow, hate, loathing, and regret. There wasn’t anything enticing in this request, but… it was so humane.
“Of course. I will.” The man promised. Despite everything, despite this day supposedly belonging to Ellen and Setsuna, he wouldn’t refuse her, no matter what. And Eve felt that resolve in the man.
“Also, I won’t stop using Caladrius. We need her, Keyaruga. We need her… to establish our authority. Then… maybe, I won’t have to lose anyone again.” The queen-to-be spoke wearily. She wanted to reach Hakuo, wished to murder this monster once and for all with her own hands, instead of waiting till some disease finishes him. She wanted to bury this king’s legacy once and for all, so that his blood would never poison her life ever again. Eve Reese desired revenge. And Keyaruga would never feel worthy of discouraging his queen. And yet…
“Alright. But you have to promise me one thing – one time. She gave us only two times, and I don’t want you to overreach any further. Everything else I’ll deal with personally. It won’t make a difference to me anyway, my hands are already dirtied enough as it is.” Keyaruga all but demanded. The gods had put them in a tight little cage, where only those who kill more than others, were worthy of wielding great power. Right now, the man wasn’t sure his party was enough to challenge Hakuo’s rule. Even Eve, drained by Caladrius, managed to overpower her ‘heroic’ adversaries. Too bad they left her exhausted for Keyaru to finish the job. Speaking of that…
“But… why would you even bother? Don’t you just want to… make another redo? To fix everything, to save those who you couldn’t save?” The lady in red asked the lad. He was never too secretive about the circumstances he was in, and how the world ended up as it is. Still, each time he spoke of that, pain and loss broke through his armor of callousness.
“No. Just as you said, I have people to live for now. Freia, Setsuna, Ellen, you, Eve – I can’t imagine my life without you. And if I just flee into the past, then what’s even the point of us having this little chat right now?” The healer quarried in response. He was sure of what he was talking about now. Or, rather, trying to convince himself and Eve of that.
“Haa… Right…” For better or worse, the woman just exhaled and dropped the topic. To believe it would mean disregarding Keyaruga’s deep painful wounds, any further prying risked opening them up again. “I think we’ve got something.” Fortunately, right in that moment, Eve noticed a track, something to spot her brethren, where the trail of bodies had just ended.
“What? Where?” Keyaruga asked, now looking around.
“To the left from here. I feel my brethren coming to me from this side. They’re… fighting. And dying.” As the lady in red spoke, pointing in the direction the flow of souls was coming from, the rider pulled the reigns to stop his steed. He then jumped off the saddle.
“Shit, I must hurry!” The hero snarled, pulling the saber out of its sheath. A contradicting statement, seeing as he would be much faster mounted. But no… “Keep your eye on Kelly! I can’t risk the two of you!”
“You want to go alone?” The woman astounded, reaching for her companion. Alas, he never faced her.
“Yes! Our enemies are strong, Eve. And I’m not sure if I can properly protect you. Stay here; cover me with your magic.” Keyaruga urged sternly. He wasn’t a healer, nor a competent defender whatsoever. The hero was a murderer, and nothing could convince him more than the trial he completed just an hour ago.
“Hold on! I won’t let you go alone.” Nevertheless, the kokuyoku scion too wasn’t the same after that challenge. She flapped her wings, and numerous black spheres left her feathers. One, two… ten, twenty… Twenty-three shades now flew around the man, ready to assist him in murdering whoever threatened their kin. “They will protect you.”
“Ah… thanks.” The red-haired man uttered, looking at the fallen black-wings. Right now, they rather reminded him of insects with the way they dashed around. “We’ll be on our way, then.” Still, it didn’t stop him from getting ready to sprint forward to save whoever was left of the kokuyoku-zok and to punish their oppressors.
“Promise you’ll be back! Promise you’ll save everyone!” Eve ultimately asked, looking at her dead brethren. Shying away from them was a luxury, and now she had no time for such things.
“I will, Eve! Take care!”
And so, he ran off, to the site where the last bit of fighting was happening. Him, twenty-three shades… against the elite forces of Gramgrim, the only remaining fragment of the horrifying battalion; now, though, the time had come to end this warband once and for all.
…
Faster! Faster! I must be faster!
Keyaruga lunged through the woods, he jumped across logs, climbed the hills, passed a few ravines along the way, just to finally reach yet another battlefield. Mil was there, the wizened magician firmly held his staff. All bloodied, his robe torn apart, the old man still fought on.
“Masanna tanouti! (kill everyone)” A massive rider, carried by an even greater armored warg tackled Mil and his defense line of mostly women spellcasters, and a few strong men among the refugees.
“Usegi! (run) Usegi-i!!!” Mil yelled, getting ready to ward off the seemingly countless hordes of bloodthirsty invaders, preferably – all on his own. The thought of death never scared the magician, as he already looked in its eyes, and they were gentle.
“Mil-murnaz! (elder Mil!) Katunj pora bornul non! (we have nowhere to retreat!)” An armored old woman yelled, preparing her grandiose fire blast. None of them would abandon him. Only seventeen of them remained against a group of forty-seven raving cutthroats, knowing all too well, they wouldn’t be able to pull through. And yet, none of them would go down without a fight. If they did, they would be slaughtered, and after that – their kin would follow.
“SUNI-I-I-I!!! (DI-I-IE!!!)” The bruised elder snarled, imbuing his wooden staff with an element of lightning. One swing, one smack – and the monstrous wolf fell down, wriggling in the shocking agony, along with its master. One down.
“Globus igneus!” The armored hag next to him yelled, sending a massive fireball into the troops. Seven perished, four else – scattered. Yet, those who fell were mercilessly crushed underfoot by the four brutal tiger-riders – no regards to their allies, and even less toward the foe. Five men and two women from the black-wings stood up to meet them with their spears, staked into the earth… It didn’t work – the demons breached their line, gutting everyone in the reach of their decorated cleavers.
“Katunji! (retreat!) Konato wor marmori! (protect the children)” Mil commanded, tossing two hardened feathers into the enemies. Too close to him, but… it didn’t matter. “KURLINA-A-A!!! (FUCK YOU!!!)” He yelled, detonating the enchanted quills.
BOOM!
An explosion, a shockwave, the trembling of the earth. Kokuyoku were mercilessly pushed further, practically hunted like animals, and yet, their prey had claws and teeth. The blast was mighty, it broke Gramgrim’s formation, allowing the defenders to flee, to run, to… live a few minutes longer.
“Kha-a-a… Ha-a-a… Agh…” Mil helplessly wheezed, pushed to the trunk of the giant oak. His bones were broken, the old man had lost all feeling in his legs, hands, and… No, he knew what he was getting into. “Gh-h-h!.. Ugh… E… va… ma…” Even when some tall goblinoid thug impaled him with a spear, the only thing on the mind of the dying sorcerer was his granddaughter, and all those he tried to save. Tried, but…
“I’VE COME TO SAVE YOU!!!” Keyaruga roared, engaging a bat-like swordsman, lunging toward the fleeing defenders. Just in a few hundred meters away, the refugees were running from the pursuers. It was honestly a miracle to see them keeping such a substantial distance, even though the enemies had carnivorous mounts. It seems, like they were rather enjoying chasing their prey.
“GHA-A-A!!!” Nevertheless, the fencer retreated from the hero, picked up a lance from the roasted wolf-man, and tossed it into the hero. The latter dodged, then pointed in the direction of his adversaries.
“Tania wor tanouti! (kill them!) Orn wor shef na! (don’t be concerned about me!)” And just like that, a cascade of shadows materialized to shred the enemy flanks and rear. The raging dark spirits now flew all across the surviving hunters’ ranks, ripping and tearing, stabbing and shredding the yelling warriors, as they tried to damage the ethereal vengeful apparitions. Could it be worse? Oh yes! Someone began simply sniping them from afar, numerous beams of piercing light took lives of so many, the Gramgrim’s morale hit the bottom.
Still, that didn’t mean they’d stop fighting. Certainly not! The bat-demon just met a shade with a wide swing from his reddish greatsword – an instant later, this spirit was gone. An adamantine blade – Keyaruga couldn’t just let him roam around – the man tossed a dagger from his sleeve, but no. The warrior just easily deflected it with a sneer. Before the lad could go on, he crossed those twenty meters with merely two jumps, ready to cleave the hero’s head in one rapid sweep.
The man ducked, right leg forward, balance toward offence. A slash was aimed toward the leg…
“Ghhh!” And it failed – the healer got a knee in his chin for that. After all, how can a thin saber cut through the metal greaves underneath the surcoat? Discombobulated, the man was about to get a downward cut to his shoulder.
“A-A-A-A-R-R-R-R!!!” Fortunately for him, another shade saved Keyaruga the trouble by backstabbing the fencer. Well, she just impaled him in the right armpit. Did that stop the berserker? “ULMO-O-O!!! (BITCH!)” Well, certainly not. Even if his one limb flopped uselessly by his side now, the warrior firmly grabbed his sword with his left hand, turned around, and slammed the spirit with the pommel, sending herto in the afterlife for sure!
A perfect chance to dispatch the swordsman, right?
Wrong! Barely had Keyaruga reached out to give the adversary one fatal touch, when another massive tiger-like brute attacked him with his massive claws. Slash, swing, up, down – the bruiser-armorclad was fast, his attacks – relentless. The lad was forced to retreat, elope, block – anything and everything to not get smashed. Each time he blocked a hit with his saber, his elbow would dislocate. No matter, Georgius healed in less than a second. No matter, just get…
“Tokalbarne! (got you!)” Alright, now that was surprising. The lad felt the trap, but proved too slow to escape the massive tail. Distracted by the tiger, he let himself be trapped by a lamia, which now not only enveloped the man’s entire body, but also unceremoniously licked his cheek. Was it the end?
“A-A-A-A-a-a… Ha-ha-HA-HA-HA!!! TUYOBU, TONA!!! (harder, mommy!)” Clearly not! Even while being crushed by the mighty snake tail, Keyaruga laughed, intimidating his foes with the undying audacity within his immortal body. “USHI INAV… MUNA CABNEI!!! (YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD!)”
“Nan-! A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!” The lamia groaned in pain. A moment later her body began to swell, to bloat, and to rupture in a gruesome spectacle of blood and gore. Could Keyaruga do it better? Certainly, but he had no time, nor wish to figure out the half-shake’s anatomy, and where her heart (Is it just one?) lied.
Either way, one down, the shades did their job too, keeping the rest of the Gramgrim goons busy, often even ending them. They were forty-seven? Well, now they were just nineteen, and the monsters’ corpses didn’t actually do wonders for the battle spirit of the remainder either.
Keyaruga couldn’t care less, though. He got out from the lamia’s mortal grip, covered in blood and viscera, only his clean white teeth shone brightly.
“E-eh…” The tiger-brawler was shaken by the view. He reached toward the woman, unable to believe his eyes. Was she his lover, or something?
“Die!” No matter, whatever the case, the Hero of Healing dashed toward him, pushed his armored left arm against his chest, and then, the purple hue killed the man for good. His aorta just ruptured from the defiled mending spell.
Then, more beasts, some of which were mounted, lunged toward him. Two tigers, a massive deer, a swarm of eight snakes, and even a giant black bear. The warband reasoned that the fastest way to get rid of shadows was to kill the man. Well, they were wrong.
“Saltare et aurugine ventis!” At this point, he didn’t really care about the melee, that’s why, instead of engaging in anymore close-quarter fights, the lad simply called upon a mighty firestorm, a burning tornado of wind and blaze, which not only killed the animals, but also moved on to the rest of the crumbled Gramgrim troops, razing trees, ma-muana and ma-zok alike, charring their flesh and drowning their screams in the mercilessly loud crackling of magical flames.
I guess, that’s what I’m getting for not min-maxing my physical stats and speed before going melee. Well, no matter. Now that they’re dead… Wait, Mil?
“MIL!!!” Keyaruga yelled, running toward the old mage. He… was already beyond saving. Fifteen shades gathered around the hero, as he looked at the impaled man, and his decapitated green-skinned murderer who had been killed next to him. “Muna sagri. (You may leave)” And so, the healer sent the shades away. Quite in time, actually, as they were already flickering in and out of existence anyway – Eve was losing her mana. Finally, the lad was all alone. “Alright, old daredevil. You deserved a nice funeral.” He pulled the spear out of the corpse, and put it on his shoulder. It wasn’t much, but at least, he would be sent off properly.
Time to go, I guess. Now, let’s reunite with Eve, and then…
“A-A-A-A-A!!!” Another change of plans. The lad heard a scream. Two voices, in fact, both females. The man looked around and saw the bat-swordsman, dragging a mother and her child by their hair, completely disregarding their wails of pain whatsoever.
“What, do you really think taking hostages will save you?” Keyaruga scoffed, taking a step toward the cowardly combatant. Quite surprising really, seeing how good he was with that greatsword of his. But, well, two more, two less – the black-wings were doomed either way, right?
“Keyaruga-maran!” Maybe so, but those weren’t just some unknown refugees – they were Mayala and Brin. When the man saw them, he halted his movements completely.
“Good humie! Stand right where you are, or they die!” The cutthroat threatened. It seemed he had already healed the wound left by a shade with a potion. And now, instead of running away, he intended to use the captured family to extort the hero. For what purpose, though?
“Oh, great! Finally, someone, who speaks a human language!” Keyaruga wouldn’t be swayed by that. Why would he, actually? As it stood now, he could simply send a spell of light through the mother or the daughter, run closer, heal them…
Why should I even care? It’d only hurt for a moment, nothing really…
“Good! And stay there, little shit.” Well, turned out, it worked. The healer lowered his saber.
“Or what? You kill them? See those burning pines, pal? I just killed all of your friends. By the way, Gramgrim is no more. I bet Caladrius has already eaten all of their corpses.”
“Hah, no shit, clever boy! Then where is she?! HE-E-EY!!! CALADRIUS!!! OVER HE-E-ERE!!! See?” Sadly, the bat-fencer remained completely unfazed by the news. He still had an advantage – Keyaruga seemed to care for the weeping family, and that was his weakness. “Drop your sword, then get on your knees, or I’ll take their fucking heads!”
“How enticing…” The man wondered with a nervous grin. He spun his weapon once, and pointed it to the ground. Mayala and Brin looked at him, their black eyes conveyed terror and distress. And still, there was a glimpse of hope. Keyaruga could do a miracle. He would save them, just like he saved the girl from the terminal rabies. “Will you set them free if I surrender?”
“Yau! (yeah!)” The swordsman grinned, drawing his reddish blade closer to their necks. “Drop your iron!”
Ha-ha-ha-hah! Oh, what should I do? What should I make?
“Hey, I’ve got a better idea. How about I kill myself?” And just like that, the healer pointed his own weapon at his chest, sowing dread in the hearts of the hostages and careless amusement in their captor.
“What? He-heh! Go ahead, humie, I’ll watch!” The bastard chuckled, slightly lowering his massive blade. This nasty glee grew only greater, when…
“Heh, I’m serious!” …the red-eyed lad plunged his own saber through his chest. To deep, in fact, that only the handle now stuck out from his torso.
“KEYARUGA-SONA!!!”
“UA-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You’re fucking hilarious!”
Three reactions, one of terror, one of tears, and the last one of irrepressible laughter – Keyaruga spat a chunk of blood, such a wound could never really kill him, and yet, it allowed for a safe movement. One, two, three steps – as long as he pretended to limp forward like a dying fool, the enemy would never stop him from approaching. He liked the view, liked seeing the man bleeding and coughing his own lungs out. He even…
A beam. A beam of white energy just flew right besides his head. It took a moment for the cutthroat to get, what was going on, but when he did, when he understood, that some distant caster could take off his head…
“YOU FUCKER!!!” Then, the cowardly warrior grabbed his greatsword with a two-handed grip, swung it at the terrorized family… “I’LL KI-!” …and died. The last thing he saw, felt, and tasted – was the trident that pierced his neck and head from the back.

It's Friday and it looks like there's a bunch of watches in this edition that are supper affordable and aim way above their price point.

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Oris Introduces A Very, Very Purple Hölstein Edition 2023 Aquis, The First Without A Date
For the fourth year in a row, Oris has announced its 2023 Hölstein Edition. Every year on June 1, Oris releases a 250-piece limited edition to celebrate the registration of its company in its hometown of Hölstein, Switzerland, on June 1, 1904. And this year they have for the first time used their Aquis diver for the special edition. And boy, is it special. First of all, it’s the first Aquis with no date. But, more importantly, it has the purpliest purple dial you have ever seen.
Other than the purple dial and lack of a date window, it’s an Aquis. 41.5mm wide, steel case, gray ceramic bezel insert and 300 meter water resistance. Introducing the watch, the co-CEO of Oris said in an interview that the purple as a dial color and a no-date Aquis were options fans have been asking for from Oris. I get that fans were asking for a no-date option. But purple? So many people explicitly asked for a purple dial? While I find that hard to believe, I won’t complain - it looks amazing.
Inside the watch is Oris’ caliber 400 with a five day power reserve, for which Oris promises 10-year service intervals and provides a 10-year warranty. On the caseback, there's Oris Bear diving in his scuba gear.
The watch will be limited to 250 pieces, available on Oris' website from June 1 for CHF 4,000 (~$4,400), a slight premium over the standard Oris Aquis Date Caliber 400. It’s a very nice shade of purple and it’s cool to see Oris have a bit of fun with watches, introducing this after the controversial Kermit Pro Pilot.
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Hamilton Gives Their Groovy 70s Inspired Pan Europ Automatic The Ultimate 70s Color - Beige
Let’s say it again, all together - the 70s were the coolest era of watches. I know you don’t agree. I still think they were. And the good people over at the Swatch Group agree with me. That’s why in 2011 they revived the 1971 Pan Europ Chronomatic, which was one of the first Swiss-made Hamilton watches, equipped with the now legendary Calibre 11. The success of that model led Hamilton to add a simplified non-chronograph version in 2014, a day-date Pan Europ Automatic. And now they are putting out two new versions of that watch, both in very 70s colorways - a light green and a beige sunray.
The cushion-shaped steel case is 42mm wide and has a a polished unidirectional rotating bezel with a burgundy aluminium insert, with numerals indicating 5-minute increments, and marked with one-minute differences for the first quarter-hour. Despite the rotating bezel, this is not a diver, as it only has a 50m water resistance.
Other than the new colors, the dial remains the same, with two cutouts at 3 o’clock for the day and date indicators. The rectangular, sloped hour indices (with middle Super-LumiNova stripes) as well bulged-in the inner bezel ring with the minute track are all very 70s. The nickeled hour and minute hands are also coated with Super-LumiNova, and the second hand is lacquered to match the bezel colour and the markings on the dial.
Inside is the H30 movement, based on the ETA C07 series (Powermatic 80) calibre, an evolution of ETA’s 2824-2 calibre. You can get the watches on a green or beige soft touch leather racing-style strap, closed with a pin buckle, with an additional brown or burgundy NATO textile strap, depending on the dial colour.
The watches are now available as non-limited editions, and the price is EUR 1,195.
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IWC Slips White Dial Into The Familiar Mark XX To Celebrate 75 Years Of The Mark Series
If you want an IWC pilot’s watch you will go to their boutique, admire the craftsmanship and impressiveness of the Big Pilot, and you will then buy a Mark series watch, because you are likely not built like Arnold Schwarzenegger and can’t pull off a car wheel on your wrist. Ever since 1993, when IWC launched the Mark XII as a replica of the Mark 11 made for the British Royal Air Force, the Mark series has been seen as the entry-level model in the Pilot’s Watch series, and now IWS is releasing an update to last year’s Mark XX with two new silver-white editions.
If the Pilot’s Watch series of IWC often brings to mind the oversized, almost provocative Big Pilot model (and we mean the real one, not the smaller, simpler 43mm version), there’s another watch that, even though more discreet, might be of even greater importance… The Mark series. First introduced as a watch for the pilots of the British Royal Air Force, under codename Mark 11, it has later become one of the most classic series of the brand, with the launch of the Mark XII in 1993, as a replica now also intended to civilian amateurs. Now known as the entry-level model in the Pilot’s Watch series, this no-nonsense watch entered its Mark XX version last year, and IWC now releases two new silvery-white editions.
The Mark XX measures 40mm wide, 10.8mm thick, 49.2mm long and has a screw down crown giving it a water resistance of 100m. Most of the steel case is brushed for a rugged tool-watch look, with a couple of polished accents. As for the dial, no surprises. It’s all very much Mark series, with a clean layout, highly legible markers and tracks and a time-and-date display. The Mark XX brought some minor evolutions, such as slightly redefined numerals and indices improving time reading and contrast. The two new references get silver-plated dials, blackened hands and black tracks – except for the indices marking the quarters, which are white and luminous.
Inside, the Mark XX has the biggest improvement over the predecessor. Instead of the past ETA and Sellita movements, the XX gets the calibre 32111, a movement made by ValFleurier and also used in the recently launched Ingenieur.
When the brand says they are releasing two new references with white dials, they mean that the only difference is what kind of strap you get them on. You can have it on a black leather strap (IW328207) or a 5-link stainless steel bracelet (IW328208).
The new IWC Pilot’s Watch Mark XX White Dial is available now through all priced at EUR 5,700 (incl. taxes) on leather, and EUR 6,800 (incl. taxes) on steel bracelet.
4/
Arken Unveils Their Second Act With The Dual-Time Equipped Alterum
Arken is a U.K.-based microbrand that released its first watch last year. It was a titanium diver called the Instrumentum. It came just in time for summer and as a integrated bracelet sports watch, at the height of the integrated bracelet sports watch craze, it sold out instantly. It’s not that weird that it sold out so fast, considering it had a titanium case, a depth rating of 300 meters and a shockingly low pre-order price of just $500. Here they are, back this year with their second watch and are jumping on another trend bandwagon - the GMT - with their titanium dual-time travel watch called the Alterum.
The Alterum carries over a bunch of the Instrumentum, but this is a much more elegant watch that looks way more expensive than it’s price point. Gone is the aggressive bezel of the diver, replaced by a fixed brushed bezel without any markings. Kind of weird for a GMT… It’s measures 40mm in width, 46mm lug to lug and 13mm in case thickness, but since the bezel is 38mm wide it looks much smaller than it actually is.
Also carried over is the unique handset (although smaller and less aggressive) and distinct hour marker layout intertwined by its own solid track line. Accompanying the handset is a colored lollipop GMT hand and a pair of AM/PM indicators that correspond to each hour hand. The date is at six o’clock and is managed by the screwdown pusher located at four. The main highlight of the Alterum’s dial is its frosted texture, one of which comes in an anthracite gray with an orange GMT hand and another with a black dial and a blue GMT hand. You are completely free to call me crazy, but this watch is giving me Vacheron Overseas "Everest" Dual Time vibes with the orange hand, textured dial, pusher at 4 and even the bracelet.
Inside is a modified Miyota 9015 that the brand calls the ARK-9015DT. And it’s not a slight modification. It has an additional additional 12-hour hand and two AM/PM indicators that work in tandem with each hour hand, which helps a lot since the bezel does not have any markings. The movement also has some peculiarities you won’t see in others. Rotating the hands clockwise moves the entire handset, including the GMT hand, as well as both AM/PM indicator discs. However, moving the handset in the opposite direction will lock the GMT hand and its corresponding AM/PM indicator (left of the dial) allowing you to set the time difference between your local and home times. With the time difference adjusted, you can now adjust the hands moving forward to the correct local time. Since it’s such a weird movement, it can’t exactly be called a caller or a flyer GMT movement, but rather a combination of both.
Arken is offering the Alterum publically via a pre-order with either a grey or a black dial, and both will come on a quick-release nylon strap for $700 on release day (July 1, 2023) or $745 thereafter. Additionally, the brand will offer other versions of the Alterum via a private members-only platform that has been established for those that bought the Instrumentum last year. These include a black dial version with a black cerakoted case and a version with a white dial. While not specifically limited, each of the given colorways will be produced in runs of 200 units, and deliveries are expected to start no earlier than January 2024.
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Isotope Teams Up With Watch Customizer Seconde/Seconde/ For Limited Edition Hydrium Diver, A Memento Mori Watch Without A Skull
Seconde/Seconde/ is a brand name for Romaric André, a former financial auditor who has in recent year profiled himself as one of the leading vintage watch customizers, known especially for replacing hands with those of his own design. He has worked with a whole slew of brands, including Vulcain, Nivada Grenchen, Louis Erard, Bamford and H. Moser & Cie, creating watches that take the original and update it with fun. His latest collaboration is with the UK based Isotope, a brand known for their strong visual design and accessible prices and together they created a Seconde/Seconde/ version of the Isotope Hydrium dive watch.
The Hydrium comes in a 40mm stainless steel case with a unidirectional bezel, screw down crown, sapphire crystal and 300m water resistance. The dial is a matte black with a raised lacrima in the center of the dial and a railroad-style minute track printed along the periphery in white with small bright green blocks to denote the hour markers. At the top of the dial is Isotope’s original logo, although it has been overhauled by Seconde/Seconde/ and given a number of bright green updates. The actual letters of the Isotope name have been rearranged to spell “OTOPSIE” (autopsy), with green arrows pointing to where the letters would go if the logo were to be printed normally.
While autopsy might sound a bit morbid, the brand points out that this is a memento mori watch, without a skull. Additional reminders of your mortality are the hands. While the hour and minute hand appear in Isotope’s classic i-shaped format, the bright green seconds hand has a shape that mirrors the appearance of a failing heartbeat on an ECG machine.
The new Isotope Hydrium Seconde/Seconde, a limited edition of 50 pieces, is offered on a quick-release soft black leather strap with a signed microblasted steel buckle. Inside is the Swiss Landeron 24 automatic movement, which follows the same core design as the ETA 2824 or Sellita SW200 but better decorated with perlage and Geneva stripes.
The Isotope Hydrium Seconde/Seconde/ is now available from the brand’s website and priced at GBP 900 (excl. taxes).
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H. Moser & Cie Revamps The Streamliner Flyback Chronograph 2.0
Despite being made in just 100 pieces and just before the pandemic, the H. Moser & Cie. Streamliner, a luxury sports watch elements with an unusually fluid shape, was a huge hit for the brand. Since January 2020, the Streamliner has evolved into a collection with time-only, tourbillon and perpetual calendar models. It is now time for the Streamliner Flyback Chronograph to undergo a slight update, entering its 2.0 phase.
There aren’t any huge updates here, but still welcome. The originality of this collection is intact, with its rounded curves. 42.3mm in diameter and with a relative thickness of 14mm, it features a cool radially brushed finish on top. The dial, apart from a single detail, hasn’t changed. It retains its fumé funky blue colour, tachymeter scale on the periphery and hands with Globolight inserts. The one detail that has changed is the logo, which is now made using transparent lacquer… almost like a secret signature, a reminder of the pre-eminence of the product.
Inside the case is the same calibre HMC 907, a movement that is also known as the AgenGraphe and that has been developed by talented movement maker Agenhor. The architecture, an automatic column-wheel chronograph with an innovative horizontal clutch with a friction wheel (to avoid any issues when the teeth intermesh and reduce unwanted jerks), is the same as before, but the power reserve is now boosted at 72 hours. It has been refreshed with new decoration, including Moser stripes angled at 45° and anthracite grey rhodium plating on the bridges and main plate.
Now available and part of the permanent collection, the Streamliner Flyback Chronograph Automatic Funky Blue 2.0 is priced at CHF 45,000.
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On hand - a selection of reviews

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The Grand Seiko SBGH283 you can only buy at their Studio Shizukuishi in Japan
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A review of the Panerai Radiomir California PAM01349 in Brunito eSteel
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Watch Worthy - A look at an offbeat, less known watch you might actually like

The new Tool Watch Co. Diver is a lot of watch for not a lot of money
The Tool Watch Co. Diver will be available as of today through the company’s Indiegogo crowdfunding campaign. During this period, you’ll be able to order the watch for US$295, and after that, the Diver will cost US$500. Even at its regular retail price, I think this watch delivers a lot of value for its money. But especially at that lower introduction price, it feels like an absolute steal. A titanium dive watch with an automatic movement, 300m water resistance, a sapphire crystal, a very decent titanium bracelet…should I go on? I think that’s really impressive for less than $300!
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This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 70%. (I'm a bot)

Public health advocates say a common color enhancer added to thousands of US foods is toxic and dangerous, and have formally petitioned federal regulators to ban the chemical's use.
Titanium dioxide, has been widely used for decades and is found in foods like M&Ms, Skittles, Beyond Meat plant-based chicken tenders and Chips Ahoy! cookies, recent science has shown it is also linked to a range of serious health issues and accumulates in the body and organs.
The recent scientific discoveries prompted the European Food Safety Authority to ban titanium dioxide's use in food in August, and the petition filed by five major US public health advocacy groups asks the US Food And Drug Administration to similarly withdraw its approval.
The chemical has come under increased scrutiny recently: a bill to ban the substance in food is moving through the California assembly, and a lawsuit filed earlier this year drew wide attention for alleging that Skittles candies are "Unfit for human consumption" because they contain the chemical.
The FDA approved titanium dioxide for food use in 1966 and last reviewed it in 1973, when it concluded the chemical was safe.
Safer alternatives to titanium dioxide exist, Neltner said, and the chemical serves no purpose beyond coloring food, so it is not essential to products.

Summary Source FAQ Feedback Top keywords: chemical^#1 Food^#2 dioxide^#3 Titanium^#4 petition^#5
Post found in /news and /worldnews.
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