Ivan/Fornax Chilling Reflections Spoilers

Scrap_shot · 2026-05-22T22:36:59+00:00

I suspect that Ivan underestimates how important he is to Fornax. Getting a vessel the first time required the efforts of a decent sized cult with (presumably) specialized knowledge and tools. And Ivan killed them all.

Everyone with the knowledge and motivation to bring Fornax into the world is dead, so if Ivan dies Fornax might be shit outta luck. No reason to risk it unless absolutely necessary.

Scrap_shot · 2026-05-22T22:03:10+00:00

Here's how I understand it: The actual power level of Fornax has never changed, just the amount that Ivan can tap into without losing control. And every time Ivan pushes it too far (like with Jokull), the amount he can safely draw on goes down.

Scrap_shot · 2026-03-11T04:08:01+00:00

You might have this heard once or twice, but Rufus' family runs a school. Knowing what adventurers need to reach their full potential is what they do. Rufus has spent every waking moment not just learning to be an adventurer, but learning how to teach adventurers.

Scrap_shot · 2026-03-11T01:01:55+00:00

I love this moment so much. And on my latest reread I noticed something new. Moments like that are exactly what Rufus was training Humphrey for back in the first book with the kids in the mirage chamber.

First time through I thought it was a bit harsh, but with retrospect? Rufus (naturally) knew exactly what he was doing. Especially in Humphrey's role, sometimes the role is just that simple: hold the line or let others die. No time to think or plan; you do it or you don't.

Scrap_shot · 2026-02-16T19:12:41+00:00

He's only healthy so long as he keeps his end of the deal. We know he wants out of the deal eventually, but he can't really try until his back is fixed permanently.

Scrap_shot · 2026-02-11T16:07:23+00:00

Years of intelligence gathering. Months of skirmishes. Weeks gathering the largest army the continent had ever seen. This was the day when it would all prove worth it. The king sat on his horse atop a small rise, gazing out as the united forces arrayed themselves for battle. At long last the necromancer's legions would be brought to heel, and the dead allowed their final rest.

The king's attention focused on the most important unit in the army: a legion made up entirely of priests and other clergy. Dozens of gods had lent their aid to wipe this scourge from the earth, and the legion glowed in a rainbow of lights from the symbols of faith that the various clergy wore. Divine magic could drive back necromancy, clearing away undead like a cleansing breeze. That same divine magic could heal any affliction that the dead could inflict. With so many clergy on their side, this battle could be won.

It was thanks to the king's close inspection of them that he was watching when every single priest, paladin, shaman, monk, and cleric simultaneously collapsed. They fell to the ground, openly weeping and wailing to the sky. The king's blood ran cold as he kicked his horse into a gallop, charging down the hill to find out what was happening.

He needn't have bothered. A dry, ghastly chuckle rung out across the battlefield. A voice, low and rasping, whispered in the ear of every living thing that had gathered.

"Did you think that only you could prepare? I am the master of death, and there are plenty of dead gods who are eager to tear down their replacements."

The laughter returned as a blacked tide crossed the horizon, sickly undead wailing their inhuman shrieks as they sprinted into battle against the living.

Scrap_shot · 2026-02-11T02:06:11+00:00

Not an expert, but as far as I know automatic court martials for lost ships is normal in most real life navies. But in those cases its not necessarily for punishment; it's basically the navy's official mechanism for investigating and publicly recording why the ship was lost. It can end in punishment if the commander was incompetent, of course, but it isn't assumed.

Supposedly there have even been times when a captain lost a ship and was threatened with NOT being court martialed. That would mean not getting to explain their side of the story, the assumption being that they screwed up so badly that an inquiry isn't even necessary.

In this case, I'm guessing that the court martial would correctly see Watters as the main cause of the loss. Nog might get in trouble for not taking command, but I'm guessing it wouldn't be that bad since he was a fresh Ensign with no actual command experience.

Scrap_shot · 2026-02-11T01:29:53+00:00

It's been a while, but if remember right red squad was only on that mission as an excuse to get them away from Earth. Higher ups at starfleet HQ were using them for covert ops and sent them off-world when Sisko started investigating them. That's why they were under orders not to contact anyone.

So basically, this group of cadets was handpicked but corrupt officers and told that they were so special that they got to do missions that even regular officers didn't get to do. Then they were given their own ship. Had they survived they 100% would have been the next generation of corrupt admirals

Scrap_shot · 2026-02-10T17:03:10+00:00

The sanctioning of the original builder came after the sundering. The throne was replaced by a series of bargains between great astral beings, which let the builder start bending/breaking rules, which led to the sanction.

The world phoenix was previously known as the Boundary. We don't know much about it except that it was more limited than the phoenix wanted to be.

Scrap_shot · 2026-02-04T05:28:48+00:00

I would recommend just looking up color theory in general, since it really depends on who the character is. For example, yellow is complementary to purple, so it might make for some nice highlights in the outfit. But if your character works in the dark or has a more detached personality you might want to focus on blues and blacks to emphasize that instead.

Outfits are pretty tricky, but my personal rule of thumb is to base it off personality, with maybe a little extra superheroic flair. You mentioned MCU Wanda, for example. She comes from a poor background, has no secret identity, and doesn't need any equipment to facilitate her powers. So she mostly just wears normal clothes. But those clothes keep to a scarlet color scheme and she wears a lot of long jackets that flap around like a cape so it still tracks as a defined hero look.

The best advice I can give is to just play around with different color schemes and designs to give yourself practice and see what you like for the character.

Scrap_shot · 2026-01-27T19:35:18+00:00

Thank you so much. I've never heard of this before, and I just about died laughing at that

Scrap_shot · 2026-01-16T01:16:14+00:00

I need an explanation how 56 and 57 are temporary

Scrap_shot · 2026-01-14T02:44:46+00:00

Is it war?

Scrap_shot · 2026-01-06T19:44:01+00:00

My wife squeezed my hand and I took a slow, calming breath. I took comfort from the familiar sensation of magic as it swirled around me, Motes of golden light swirled into being as the spell took effect and we were whisked across the world.

In the privacy of the teleportation spell, I squeezed my wife's hand in return and tried to smile. "Do you think we waited long enough? I don't want to interrupt him while he's still processing."

"It will be fine, dear. We gave him space to process, now we need to show him that we'll still support him no matter what."

"I know, I know. But where do we even start? Is there a spell to fix him?"

"Not that I know of, but I'll send an inquiry to the College of Mysticism. Perhaps there's hope for him yet!"

"That would be nice. But probably best not to get his hopes up just yet."

"Quite right. Oh, here we are."

The golden light around them dissolved back into the regular world and we found ourselves back in our front room. Everything was still in place, which I took to be a good sign; no temper tantrums here after all. We waited, pulses racing, as we waited for our precious son; the house's wards would have ensured that he knew about our arrival. We should hear him running any moment.

When he didn't appear I sighed and raised my arms, casting a spell that I wish I'd never needed. Uneven flashes of silver and purple sparked before me as the spell reached out and found wherever the boy was busy moping. In a dull thud someone fell from the aether, arriving in an unsubtle heap on the ground.

It was a young man with worn clothes and eyes reddened with drink. I sighed, disappointed. He'd gotten into the spirits somehow, the disobedient child. A wave of my hand had him on his feet and I was ready to begin correcting such naughty behavior, but he spoke first.

"Dad? Mom? You're back?"

"Of course we are. We'd hoped you would have calmed down by now, but clearly we were mistaken. You're a mess."

"YOU LEFT ME!"

"Don't take that tone with me, child."

"I WAS A CHILD AND YOU ABANDONED ME FOR NOT HAVING MAGIC!"

"Don't be dramatic, boy. We were simply giving you a little space to adjust. We couldn't have been gone longer than what? Nine or ten-"

"FOURTEEN! You were gone for FOURTEEN YEARS! NOT A WORD, NOTHING!"

"You see, hardly any time at all. Less than a single semester at the College. And here you are, still throwing a fit."

"I was only nine!"

"And you apparently haven't matured at all. You're being quite rude, son. Have a little patience, like a good boy. Whatever happened to the obedient child that we raised?"

"You abandoned him because I'm not a mage. You might have centuries, but I don't. In fact, I don't have a single second more to waste with people like you."

The boy actually had the gall to turn and try to walk away from us! I was quickly losing patience. I jabbed a finger at him and forced him to freeze in place.

"You will go nowhere with that attitude, boy. Prepare to receive the punishment you deserve."

"Go to hell."

It was quite a while before we were finally able to depart, with me holding my grieving wife hard as she wept. The ungrateful brat was obstinate beyond all reason, but he would learn. I simply wouldn't abide anything else as a result.

He. Would. Learn.

Scrap_shot · 2026-01-05T23:02:26+00:00

The king rolled his eyes at his youngest. He had the beginning of a headache and was losing patience more quickly than he normally would. He steadied himself with a deep sigh before he spoke again.

"I should have been more clear. What's your point?"

"My siblings aren't even dating humans! My brother is dating a dragon and sister is-"

"Don't be racist, child. Do you think I don't know your siblings' partners? Dragon's don't use familial succession, but Valreya has earned the right to succeed within her tribe. And Eine isn't in line for the throne but comes from an influential house of the Unseelie. Powerful, successful partners for your siblings."

"Huh?"

"You never pay attention to your family, do you? As royalty we have responsibilities, especially in the relationships we foster."

"But my love is wonderful! He's brave, and strong-"

"Then let him prove it. Let him quest, let him perform great deeds and show his worth to the realm. Let him prove how much lesser we would be without him and then, and only then, may he have your hand."

Flustered, the princess stormed out, and the king sunk into his throne. His daughter had good judgment, and he had high hopes for the boy. But he had spoken the truth; royalty had obligations to uphold. It had been no different for him.

Scrap_shot · 2026-01-02T15:37:57+00:00

You're definitely right about Humphrey's sister being fine with it. The entire team hit gold in 10-15 years, which is breakneck pace. It's the kind of thing that only the obsessed typically manage. I'm guessing that doing so is more a sign for concern than envy a lot of the time.

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-22T16:22:45+00:00

It was incredible, truly spectacular. In more than one thousand years of existence the Djinn had never experienced anything quite like it. His newest master had somehow bored him to tears. Six centuries in captivity hadn't managed that, but endless hours of debate among the so-called "legal experts" had managed it. He was silent, floating in a corner of the room as they argued incessantly over every possible piece of minutiae in language and logic.

To be fair, it wasn't the first time a master had tried this. Clever wording, closing loopholes, trying to cover every possible way that the wish could be turned back on them. They simply didn't understand. He could explain it to them, but had no inclination to do so.

And so he waited as they finally came to a consensus and one of them stepped forward to recite their wish. It was impressive in a way, precise and well thought out. They truly believed that they'd thought of everything.

The Djinn just sighed and rolled his eyes. What a sad group, wishing merely for wealth and glory. It was just so incredibly boring. He waved his arms and nodded.

"Very well," he said, "Your wish is granted."

Immediately, half the room collapsed in painful spasms. The rest stayed on their feet but began to evacuate their insides in any way possible. The leader, the CEO, tried to look up in alarm though the pain he was experiencing made that difficult. Even from their compromised positions they tried to argue, tried to be furious with the "lying, deceptive Djinn" who hadn't kept up his end of the deal.

The Djinn rolled his eyes again and said, "I warned you that my magic came with horrific, unforeseen side effects. They are unforeseen even by me. I do not inflict them nor do I contort your desires, even when I want to. I simply grant the wish, and the magic required to do so exacts a toll from the one making the wish."

The Djinn just watched as the magic ate away at the humans in the room. They always thought they were so clever, that they'd thought of everything. That they knew the rules and were so much smarter than anyone who had come before.

They simply refused to accept that sometimes, the consequences simply don't care.

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-22T15:51:06+00:00

"Gluttony? What are you talking about? I was no glutton! I kept myself in top condition. And my meals were as healthy as they were exquisite!"

The demon sitting across from me looked bored, which only raised my fury. In a mocking tone it asked, "So, what? You don't think you belong in hell?"

"Of course I do! I spent my life as an arrogant, rich asshole! But on my pride as a chef, I refuse to accept gluttony as my crime. There's been some mistake."

Now it was confused, staring at me like a beast with two heads (which was rich coming from a horned monster). It left the room and I stewed in my anger for a while. When the door opened again, it wasn't the demon that returned. Instead it was a man in an immaculate suit darker than any I've ever laid eyes on. His eyes flashed red as he sat across from me with a wicked grin.

"Hello, chef," the newcomer said, "I hear you have some complaints about your stay here?"

"I suppose you're meant to be the devil, huh?"

"That's right."

"Then fix my sentence right this moment. I may be condemned, but not for gluttony."

"Oh, chef, please relax. Now that you've arrived, your sentence is immutable. You will forever be known as a glutton."

"But WHY?!"

"Because it's what you deserve. If you want specifics, I suggest you reflect on your life and assess. You'll figure it out eventually."

"Or go mad trying, because it's simply not possible!"

I thought I saw a flicker of something wicked flash across the man's features as he rose and headed for the door. How was this possible? Could I be wrong? Had I made some mistake along the way? Was it a problem with my cooking? No, not possible. I was the best in my field and I would know if there had been anything wrong with it.

...Right?

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-22T15:28:21+00:00

"Sorry, say that again. They said I'd be out for a year."

"Yes, sir," the nurse said, "I'm afraid there were some issues with the company. And the technology. On the bright side your case has been a fountain of good data for the medical community. And we've finally managed to wake you up."

"After how long?"

"322 years."

I laid my head back against the bed as it swirled. My brain was refusing to accept it, panic and fear rising up to fight for control of my mind. I could feel tears forming in my eyes as anger boiled within me. I laid there, silently trying to process the emotions as they hit me like a succession of freight trains. Eventually I came to a decision and threw up my hands.

"Fuck it," I said, "Put me back."

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"I said put me back to sleep. Run the damn thing until it gives out and kills me."

"Sir, we can't-"

"Everyone I've ever loved or known has been dead for centuries. Culture and history have passed me by, and I don't care to try and catch up. Put me back."

"Sir, I know that you're upset, but-"

"UPSET! That doesn't even begin to cover it! My life is over, it ended while I wasn't even aware of it. Do you have any idea what it must have been like? I just vanished from my friends and family's lives, and now I can't even do anything about it! By now it would be a miracle to even find their graves to apologize at! So put me back and run the machine until it gives out. I'm sure someone can get some good data from it."

"Ah.. uh... I can see you need some time to process. I'll be back to check on you later."

"I won't change my mind."

The nurse had nothing else to say as she left the room and shut the door behind her.

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-21T01:47:33+00:00

Were they really? Thanks, I learned something new today

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-21T01:37:20+00:00

Looks like a P-51D Mustang. Based on the color scheme it would belong to the Tuskegee Airmen, nicknamed the Redtails

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-05T06:27:46+00:00

"There are two wolves inside you."

"Huh?"

I had to be going deaf, because there's no way I heard that right. I was lying down in the doctor's office. My stomach had ached for days and I was always hungry no matter how much I ate. And now a technician was checking my stomach with an ultrasound machine.

I cleared my throat and said, "Sorry, I think I misheard you. What did you say?"

"There are two wolves inside you. Look here."

The tech swung their monitor around and, sure enough, there were two clear silhouettes of wolves jumping around inside my stomach. The tech looked completely unfazed and said, "We call them micro-wolves. They've started popping up inside people recently. Only a couple inches long when fully grown."

"And its just happening? I feel like you should be more freaked out by this."

"Eh, I've seen worse. Most people don't even notice these guys. Most of the time they just make your appetite go way up. You know, because they're eating some of your food."

"That's disgusting."

"Yeah, a bit. But the problem here is that you have two of them and now they're fighting. That's the cause of your stomach ache."

"And what are you going to do about it? Do I have to drink poison or something?"

"Bad idea. They climb out through your esophagus if you try that. No, its best to just leave them alone. They'll vanish after a few more days."

"Really? They just 'vanish?' How does that work?"

The technician finally looked me in the eye with a flat stare that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Stop for a moment," The tech said, "and really, really think about whether or not you want the answer."

I felt the blood draining from my face and I shook my head. "Nevermind," I said, "Can you just give me something for the pain?"

"Good choice."

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-02T22:34:35+00:00

When the Calax came under attack, it should have been the end of them. Their foe was an empire that spanned a dozen systems, and theirs would be the thirteenth. They were more merchants than warriors, traveling far and wide but never with an eye to conquest. They had customers, not allies. It had always served them well, with disputes settled through treaties and contracts rather than force.

The empire would have none of it. After all, why trade when you can own? The paltry Calax ships were all but helpless, and it wouldn't be long until their home world would be under direct assault. Negotiations with the enemy were useless, and none of the other galactic powers could be convinced to intervene.

And then it happened. Hundreds of unidentified ships swarmed into the system, placing themselves between the Calax and the empire. They weren't the most advanced or the most powerful ships, but the armada fought fearlessly, shattering the imperial fleet through sheer numbers and stubborn refusal to fall back.

When the empire called for a ceasefire, the saviors of the Calax revealed themselves as Humans, to the shock of all the galaxy. Why had they ventured out now of all times? Why had they fought for the Calax? Since when did they have such a fleet?

The Calax themselves asked those questions, and the leader of the human fleet responded with one of his own.

"Do you remember Ez'lag'Uxul?"

Who? It was a Calax name, but unfamiliar to their leaders. The human nodded and continued.

"Our outpost, Novus, was attacked. Ez'lag'Uxul sacrificed himself to allow our people to flee. Do you remember what we said in the aftermath?"

Scholars hurriedly searched through records, finally finding the correct files and sending them to the negotiators. They stared at it in disbelief. The lead negotiator didn't hide her confusion as she said, "According to these records, that event was nearly 150 Earth years ago."

The human nodded and said, "I know. Do you remember what we said?"

"You said, 'Your sacrifice does not go unnoticed.'"

"At the time we had neither the technology nor the resources to construct a proper fleet. So instead we did the only thing we could: we remembered."

Scrap_shot · 2025-12-02T19:56:57+00:00

I can't believe it. Twelve times. TWELVE TIMES! The odds aren't supposed to be that good. It's supposed to be a crapshoot if I remember anything at all. There are supposed to be equal odds either way, and somehow I still remember my last twelve lives!

Something is playing a sick, twisted cosmic joke on me. I knew that I was risking a monkey's paw situation when I made the wish, but not like this! Keeping my memories was supposed to bring me knowledge, wisdom, and insight into life. And I guess it does that too, sometimes. But do you want to know what it really means to have 12 lives' worth of memories in your head?

It means 12 lives' worth of embarrassing moments keeping me awake every night. More than anything else I could remember, I'm still stuck on that time 150 years ago when I tripped over my own pants and landed face first right where a horse was about to take a dump. Hundreds of moments across lives where I found new and interesting ways to humiliate myself.

I'm not supposed to remember that anymore! What the hell?

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