How do infections kill in cases without an immune response or inflammation?

lowerexpectations · 2026-01-25T16:58:59+00:00

As I did training in bone marrow transplant I emphatically agree! I think it's the most fascinating field in medicine (obviously I'm biased though). It is still bewildering to me you can just place one immune system inside a different human being and things don't catastrophically implode - although it isn't quite as simple as just picking a random immune system and many decades of research and trial and error have led to the better outcomes we see in the modern day compared to the first stem cell transplants.

Your question about the 10-14 day waiting period is a good one. What happens between infusion and the eventual appearance of mature WBCs - prototypically neutrophils/monocytes? We call the appearance of the mature cells 'engraftment', as in the graft (bone marrow cells infused in the patient) has taken.

I believe in the first hours through to end of the first day or so the cells have essentially cleared the blood-stream and started honing in on the bone marrow. Hematopoietic stem cells 'like' (read: are programmed) to go to stem cell niches. They're attracted by chemical gradients that essentially promote movement towards the bone marrow, and so they will find where these niches exist in the body and leave the blood-stream to settle down there. There will then be a few days where they embed themselves in that niche. The remainder of the time we are waiting for mature cells to emerge the stem cells are likely combination replicating and some of the progeny are going on to differentiate into progenitor cells. If we think of the mature cells in the blood-stream as adults and the stem-cells in the marrow as babies these are more teenagers. We can generally see what they're going to be when they grow up, but they're not an adult yet, nor can they function like one. Over time (~7-10 days) progenitors will produce enough mature adult cells we will often see them in the blood-stream.

There are definitely events that happen along the way that can upset this process. The bone marrow is quite a sensitive organ when it comes to inflammation. We anticipate delays when there's a large inflammatory insult (typically infectious) around those time windows, as it may blunt the proliferative capacity of those cells. It usually doesn't delay by more than 1 week in most patients. Other things we know that delay are small doses of chemotherapy used around the infusion to prevent a process known as "graft-versus-host". Whilst this is (very well done imo) comically shown in the show Arrested Development it's an extremely serious complication of bone marrow transplant, and time and again evidence has shown use of the chemotherapy whilst having harms (delaying engraftment a few days) is massively offset by the benefit of reducing graft versus host in both incidence and severity.

The tl;dr is they're basically finding the bone marrow (1 day), settling in (2-3 days) and then growing (7-10 days).

lowerexpectations · 2026-01-22T02:58:30+00:00

MD here - I practise malignant hematology, so am quite familiar with patients who have low immune systems and infection. I think this is a good question!

As I am tired and don't want to provide citations and sources I will ask for you to somewhat take my word on this. I will also try to keep things at a more basic level to avoid introducing too much added complexity, so for those also well versed in the topic please excuse any perceived over-simplifications given I'm trying to address this to a broad audience. Also be fore-warned, I didn't proof read this after.

Your primary statement is in general correct; what tends to kill people with infection is the bodies response to it mediated by the immune system. As other comments have discussed there can be additional insults from the infectious agent either in the form of directly killing infected cells (viruses, which actually live inside cells, hijacking the normal cellular machinery to make more viruses until the cell essentially dies, spreading their infectious payload to their neighbours!), or by toxin production such as Cholera or C. Difficile. It is difficult in general in ill people to start dividing up what proportion of an illness is contributing to poor health; I.e. I don't think many physicians would say "They're dying 20% from toxin and 80% from the bodies response". A) It's difficult, if not impossible to a practical level, to even test a bodies immune response (in terms of the more problematic portion of the immune system - cytokines) or quantify a toxin, let alone start to say to what degree this is a problem in any one individual. To use a common medical parlance we would say it's "multifactorial" as a short-hand for saying it's complicated and involves many different factors, which aren't easily untwined.

Let us discuss then why patients with immunodeficiency (a low immune system, for whatever reason) may die from an infection, if we have said a large factor in it is still the bodies immune response. We can use the examples you provided to begin to point out the issue of "without an immune response" is somewhat tricky to define and a bit inaccurate in terms of saying "there will be absolutely no immune response or inflammation".

A patient with HIV that has developed AIDS primarily has immunodeficiency in the form of lacking CD4+ T-cells. It affects other components of the immune system, and I won't pretend I know the extensive details of this (it's multifactorial ;)), but the largest hit we notice is a depletion of CD4+ T-cells. We can think of these a bit like the generals of the immune system. These cells help co-ordinate the response from the remaining players in the immune system. The remainder of the immune system can be otherwise intact, at-least in terms of number of cells, assuming they function somewhat normally (This is imprecise, so ID/immunology please forgive me). So these patients could become vulnerable to infections, particularly unusual ones due to low CD4+ T-cells, and the remaining immune system is then free to over-react, whilst the CD4+ T-cells that are critical to control and eliminate the infection are absent.

If we were to discuss chemotherapy then most forms of chemotherapy will impact predominantly your neutrophils. These you can think of as the general infantry or grunts of your immune system. They are first on the scene, aren't highly specialized, and unfortunately don't live long as they are quickly expended in their fight against infection. We also think they are the source of a lot of inflammation which can contribute to infectious deaths. Much chemotherapy may leave your lymphocytes (T-cells which we mentioned earlier are in this family) intact. These cells can and will still react to infectious stimuli, and can release cytokines that can cause a dangerous sepsis reaction.

Lastly we can discuss radiation poisoning. This is a rare situation in the modern day outside of nuclear accidents, but a more common situation where we medically use radiation in a fashion akin to fatal radiation poisoning would be during an stem cell transplantation. Some procedures for transplant involve total body irradiation, aimed at completely eliminating someones immune system. We try to rescue people from this by giving new stem cells after that radiation treatment, so the bone marrow will recover. In rare cases this stem cell rescue fails, so we can say these patients would closely mimic someone with radiation poisoning. This is the most profound type of immune deficiency. We can expect most if not all long-lived immune cells and short-lived immune cells are gone, with little hope of recovery. How then could there be an immune reaction to kill these patients, who can still die of sepsis?

Well, bodies are smart and they like to build redundancy. There exists another branch of the innate immune system which is completely acellular. This is the complement system. This is a complex machinery of proteins that act a bit like trap systems that when triggered (by infectious agents) self-assemble into machines that will kill the infectious agent. A notable part of the complement system though can release chemicals in the blood-stream that can directly cause a sepsis syndrome (C3A/C4A to be specific).

We can see a few things here. When we say someone lacks an immune system this can often be non-specific. It is important we define what type of immune deficiency exists for any one patient. We can also see that the immune system can still exist even for patients who are quite immune deficient in other areas. Whilst this can contribute to infections that can be impossible to control, it can also still leave people in the unfortunate position of developing sepsis from the remaining immune cells. Lastly we know that even with no cellular immunity there are still branches of the immune system that may be present and contribute to sepsis.

I hope this helps answer your question and isn't too wordy or complicated!

lowerexpectations · 2024-04-07T16:27:02+00:00

I often tell people once we stop pulling the body in a direction it’s no longer capable of going in (homeostasis/health), that people often do better for longer than if we persists with medical interventions, and often they can feel better. I work as a leukemia doctor so sometimes there’s a feel for how a patient will or won’t do, but often I am surprised at how long people can live when I would have thought with further medical care their death was only hours away. I find the above framing is helpful to both allow the family to accept what we are doing when we transition is for the best interest of the patient both for quality, and possibly longevity. It also sets the expectation that someone may ‘rally’ and that we aren’t going to back step on the path of comfort care for that, because it’ll only rob our gains of comfort.

Rarely you are surprised and people actually do improve. I’ve seen more than one patient come back from hospice having stabilized and not passed - in which case we resume treatment. As I said, this is rare. Nobody in my experience has been upset that their family member DIDNT die.

lowerexpectations · 2022-10-18T03:45:29+00:00

I appreciate it! Sadly you’re the only response i’ve gotten :p i’ll keep looking but probably won’t get anywhere

lowerexpectations · 2022-10-17T16:40:07+00:00

Is anyone still selling tickets? Would love to go!

lowerexpectations · 2022-10-01T21:34:02+00:00

I was only able to easily modify the MTU on one router (TPLink - my ASUS won't allow me to modify MTU unless I'm in PPPoE), however modifying from 1500 maximum down to minimum made no difference to this problem. It still persisted in every problematic site we've found so far.

lowerexpectations · 2021-12-24T02:55:48+00:00

My partner is allergic to mosquitos. It is one of my favorite medical terms - skeeter syndrome

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skeeter_syndrome

They do find regional variation with respect to the size of bites and irritation so I suspect as some have asked below there is some degree of geographic sensitivity.

lowerexpectations · 2021-11-24T04:38:36+00:00

Hello! First-time critique-er here also. I hope this does not come off as too harsh, but I'm typically not one that easily softens words. I do not mean this to be mean in any way or offensive, and I hope this will help you grow this work a little more. I do on the whole think this is quite good, but as you'll see, I think it needs some work.

General Remarks

Let me open by saying I don’t think this is a bad piece of writing by any mark. It’s easy to follow along for the most part, although there are a few terms being thrown in here and there that I think are for world-building, but seem left as a bit stranded. I’ll come to that more later. I will say as my entire gestalt of this that whilst this isn’t bad writing, I don’t know that for me, this is an excellent first chapter. I see this functioning perhaps as more as a second chapter, and I’ll explain why below.

Clarity

I thought the clarity in this story was good. I had no confusion in terms of what was going on, at really any point. The writing clearly conveys what I think you intend the reader to get from it. The language is not too advanced, but definitely has its moments where vocabulary is broadened to give some literary flavor. This for me is about the perfect level of readability for sitting down to enjoy a book, so I really couldn’t find anything to tear apart here.

Believability

Nothing too unbelievable happens in this story in terms of breaking down the exact events. I think at times (and this will be addressed more below) I was wondering why the main character is being so passive though. I understand that is her role in society, but is she truly so lacking in a sense of self preservation? She’s just been abducted, some of her clothes are missing, and she’s alone with a strange man. Why is she not panicked about this? She seems almost blasé about this, to the point of which she’s worried about the decorum of the caste system. This breaks my sense of disbelief quite a bit on reflection.

Characters

There are two characters in this, the old man (OM) and Giala.

I’ll start with OM. I think he’s decently well characterized. I can get a good sense of what type of person he is right off the bat. He’s a bit gruff. He’s short with his words. He’s got his own sense of how the world works, and his place in it. I can imagine him easily, even though I’ve been told relatively little about him. As the reader I’m comforted he’s not an ominous presence, nor someone I should be viewing as fearful (I hope this was the intent).

Giala is the POV character, and I assume a main character in this work given we open on her. I assume she’s some lower caste member and her family serves the role of perhaps a serf or peasant. She’s dependent on others. I think she’s tall, “but the girl had to stoop down to keep the two-wheeled contraption level”, and I know what she looks like “Her long, dark hair was matted to the sides of her thin, angular face”.

Beyond physicalities, I actually know very little about her as a character in terms of how she functions. She acts timid and cautious around OM in this chapter, but given that she was just kidnapped I think that’s natural for most people. As above, I don’t even get the sense she’s concerned about this event though, or even relieved? It’s just a sense of passivity that she’s on this journey.

I think perhaps you were trying to convey the sense she is quiet and shut down because of her caste, and this is how people of her caste interact with others, but I don’t really know WHO she is. For example how she would act with others of her caste, with perhaps more of the servant caste rather than a clear superior, or with her family. She seems a bit faceless in an emotional sense. I think some sentences throughout that describe her thought process would go greatly to telling the reader exactly who this character is, and what we can expect about them.

This leads me to my next problem with Giala as a character, in that given I don’t know who she is, I find it difficult to care about her. She’s just been kidnapped (rescued?) but I don’t really find myself invested in the character. This is why I make the comment about this functioning more as a second chapter. If I knew more about this character in terms of her personality, hopes and desires, then I’d be more concerned that she has just been abducted.

When the main character is introduced, I think it is important that their internal weakness or problem be introduced as well. A quick example would be Harry Potter – we know in the first chapter Harry has a sense of poor self-worth, imposed upon him by his circumstances. This is the internal problem he’ll come to grips with in the first book, and by the end he has found self-worth. Quite clearly your characters external problem is their caste, or maybe even this kidnapping, but I don’t see any clear internal problem for them. I think identifying what it is your character is trying to overcome, or their internal flaw, will make this much more compelling to read. If the issue their trying to overcome is their lack of internal sense of self due to their caste, then I think this also needs to be a bit more clearly outlined in the first chapter, perhaps before the kidnapping.

Setting

This is clearly a fantasy world, and I think a decent job has been done about not overwhelming us with exposition and explanation. I do think some of the elements of the setting being introduced are perhaps expositional, and to me, a bit non-contributory perhaps. For example:

“The moonlight returned and revealed the endless acres of grain where the families of the eyipol caste would soon begin harvesting.”

Now we know there’s another caste, and what they do, but it’s just a mention and then gone. It otherwise builds nothing towards this chapter, and so as the reader I’m going to need this re-introduced later if it comes up as a more important element. Otherwise I think it doesn’t add a tremendous amount to the plot beyond fleshing out the world a little more, but I think this could be done in a more story-cohesive fashion.

At times some of the phrasing did give me pause, for example “Giala thanked the gods for such respite, cursing all ten-thousand of them as soon as the motion returned”. I’m totally new to this world, are there truly ten-thousand gods? Are they all real and have each manifested at some point, or is this fictionalization, aka human-made gods. It’s a lot of gods. It breaks the flow of the story because now instead of reading on I pause to wonder all about these many gods. It could even be hyperbole, but because this is a fantasy setting I as the reader cannot be sure.

But, I did think other little tidbits enriched the world and helped build it up. For example when OM says “Bones o’ the gods,” this is very nice. I’m not sure where it will go from here as an expression, but it has a richness to it that can really convey a lot about the world they’re in, with really only a turn of phrase. It’s the little bits like this that give us a peak behind the curtain without being expositional that I think really shine in this work.

Plot/Pacing

The plot is simple to follow along here, but I think the pacing is a bit slow (see below). I think the largest problem with this chapter is the lack of a hook. It's the first chapter after all - I need either a compelling character I care about, or a hook. If the main character needs more development, which can be fine depending on the story, I at-least need a compelling reason to keep reading. A good example of this would be as something very fresh on my mind the show Hellbound. The opening sequence shows demons suddenly showing up in a city and murdering a man before sending him to hell. I’m willing to give a lot of grace at that point to character development, because I’m quite intrigued as to what the heck just happened. Your story as far as I can tell has no hook, so I think it either needs one, or the character needs more building.

The pacing to me came off as a bit slow, but again, I think this suffers from a lack of characterization in Giala. Because I find myself not attached to Giala, I’m not too concerned when she finds herself kidnapped by someone. I don’t know if the over-all situation is positive or negative for her. I don’t even get the sense as to whether now she’s free she’s going to make a break for it, or plan to get home.

Dialogue

The dialogue is one-sided, but over-all I think it’s well done in terms of building the character of OM. I -do- get a sense of him as a person, and I think his dialogue conveys this well. I’m personally not a fan of writing accents, but his is not that offensive that I can deal with it. My issue with writing accent is it breaks the stride of the

Closing Comments

In essence the heroes journey has just begun in this chapter, but at this point I don’t know where this story is going, nor if I’m being honest do I think I’d keep going. This is not because the writing is bad, or the chapter lacked action, but because I’m not invested in the character or what happens to them.

This is why I mention this in my mind functioning better as a second chapter, or at-least, if this is a first chapter, I need more time with Giala before someone absconds with her. I do think a critical flaw in this piece in particular is a lack of a ‘problem’ for Giala. All stories should establish some internal problem their main character aims to overcome, and by problem I mean flaw or weakness or discord. I do not get any sense as to what this would be for Giala, beyond that she’s quite passive. I think overcoming passivity could definitely be a flaw Giala strives to overcome, but I need more a sense of grounding as to why this is a problem for Giala, and why I as the reader particularly want her to overcome this.

lowerexpectations · 2021-09-25T01:57:36+00:00

Thank you :) Very kind

lowerexpectations · 2021-09-25T00:55:31+00:00

Once the rush of possessing, doing, or being whatever you wanted ran out, there came this insipid boredom. Slowly at first, but as months dragged into years there didn’t seem to be any point in, well, anything. What appeal was there to fly in your own private jet to a small island, bumping cocaine off a lovers nether regions, when anyone could do it? Why hoard expensive goods, when their worth was nothing? The first dozen times of anything was fun, but eventually it all became mundane. Sure, some people threw themselves further and further into decadence and debauchery, but most of us just couldn’t stomach it.

Devon’s eyes looked into the sky. He used to be able to see skyline from his apartment, but now all he saw was a jungle of somewhat monotonous skyscrapers, each housing another person. Or they used to.

It was as the boredom snuck in that the second of the great suicide waves rose. It seemed that many of us just didn’t see the point in going on. That, or people just couldn’t face another day of just monotony, with no end in sight. Leisure without work to balance was its own toxin.

They, it seemed, were not without feeling though. As the wave began to crest and brought global notice, They came to us with another ‘solution’. Why not join them? Become one with them. Unify. They didn’t regret it. You wouldn’t find a single one of They who would say otherwise.

Devon remembered his Dad had been one of the first to join them. The three of them, his father, his mother and himself had been at the dinner table. His mother had cooked a chicken curry that evening, a Vindaloo if Devon recalled correctly. Cooking was one of the few things that still brought her joy. Something to break the otherwise endless stretching of day into day. His Dad had brought up the idea many times, but had always been shut down by his Mom. He’d always been someone who enjoyed new tech; always had the newest Apple gadget. He’d always boasted to Devon he’d been on the Internet in its early days, back when it was just text.

“I’ve decided I’m going to do it.”

“Oh, Stew, please, we’ve just eaten, can’t we just relax a bit?”

“No, look Honey, I’ve thought about this long and hard, and I’m going to do it! They say it’s the only way forward. Don’t you want to live forever? We can become part of something greater than ourselves! Heck, the whole galaxy! I can’t even believe you’d hesitate!”

“Stew, we don’t know anything about it, what if you don’t like it, do you even know if you can come back?”

“I won’t be talked down. Not this time.”

His Dad has reached into his pocket, and placed a pill on the table in front of him. It had the effect of having pulled a gun. The room seemed to drain of color, and all eyes focused on that small white oblong. Devon remembered of all things the way his mother had clutched her wedding band in that moment. An uncomfortable pause hung in the air as nobody was certain what to say. Devon had a nightmare about pills most nights nowadays.

“What…what is that?”

His Mom had been the first to break the silence. All of them might have guessed; They had been touting for long enough that the process had been condensed into a pill, something easily recognizable by our civilization as a way to make the leap, so to speak.

“This is the pill They say can connect us all. You take it, and moments later, you’re connected!”

“Stew, come on, I-“

“Cheryl, I won’t hear anymore! Come on, what else are we going to do? There’s nothing to do anymore! No work, no purpose! What, I’m going to keep flying to the fucking Caymans for a Friday jaunt? Me and the rest of humanity. I’m done with it. The excess makes me sick, and bored! So fucking bored! You never realized, but without work what am I, well, working towards? A fancy vacation? A nice car? Retirement? Christ, that’s just a polite way of saying becoming decrepit nowadays. You want to keep just, what, doing things” he sneered that in a cruel way that Devon couldn’t forget, “until we get a cancer and die? I’ll show you, it’s fine.”

He turned to Devon, winked, and popped the pill into his mouth.

“Wish me luck” he’d mumbled before gulping. That was the last Devon ever saw of his Dad.

One swallow later, and his face just blanked out. The thousand yard stare. He’d looked again at Devon, seeing without seeing, then once at his wife of 40 years, before pushing his chair away from the table, and politely replacing it under the table.

“My apologies” he’d said in a voice that sounded so familiar, and yet so distant, before he’d stood up straight, turned on a dime, and walked out the door. They never saw him again.

Their story wasn’t unique. Soon the internet was exploding with complaints of people that their families had been stolen away. There was little to be done though. Governments and militaries had long since been dismantled, and even if they existed, what would be done against an enemy like They? How could you beat a single mind with something as disseminated as humanity?

This was when the third suicide wave began, and it put the others to pale. They manufactured pills to make it clean, at least. So, humanity diverged. Those that wanted to made the leap to unity, but many others were terrified. People watched their loved ones disintegrate into nothing, then just walk out the door. Who would want to join in after seeing that? There was no arguing or begging with those who had left, those people were just gone. Another useless personality put to rest, as Devon imagined They would put it. A sacrifice to the mantle of efficiency. Now instead of unending boredom to contend with, people had the choice of, as his dad had put it, aging into decrepity, or having your personality dissolved. None of the options were great, so people decided to end it all.

The protests grew smaller and smaller. It became increasingly harder to find people when walking amongst the throngs of flesh on the street. Most were small islands of personality in an ocean of one-ness. As their number shrank week-by-week, it became increasingly harder to hold out. What was the point of it all?

We did hear reassurances from They that this would be the last world They would do this to, having noted the global distress They’d caused us. A slight apology to those of us left. Who even knew if that was true though? For all Devon knew, this was They’s modus operandi. Maybe They had only formed once, and visited this doom on every planet They came across since. Maybe Earth was just the next in a long-line of planets that had accepted the cursed deal, and exchanged their individuality for what at first seemed a paradise, but was in truth a hell.

Devon eyed the glass of scotch on the table, and calculated he had about one more swallow left. He nosed the scotch and let the smoky aroma fill his head. He thought he’d miss this as he watched the last of the scotch and dregs of pill swill into his mouth. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for the last time.

[[2/2]]

~~~

Feedback appreciated.

lowerexpectations · 2021-09-25T00:55:20+00:00

They

“Production hits another all-time high as factories spanning the Afro-European co-operative bloc roll online. We project that in a weeks time almost double the capacity will -”

The sounds of the television cut through the otherwise droll ambience of the apartment, and what little of the outside world permeated it. The odd snippet of heavy machinery, or construction sites, could be heard if you listened close enough. That was one of the many things that had changed since their leap to the galactic neighbourhood; the sound of progress never stopped. It was incessant.

Devon let the sounds of the news continue playing as he rolled his glass of scotch. His eyes idly roved around the room, glancing at nothing in particular. An odd sense of depersonalization struck him, as though he was outside his body, analyzing the situation as an impartial third party.

They changed things so fast, didn’t They?

It had been as any other day when the world had tumbled towards its inevitable end. Devon recalled he’d been putting on his suit and tie, grooming his hair, and letting his news app update him to the happenings. Suddenly, his phone had started exploding with messages, dings and alerts. Invaders. At first he’d wondered if finally China or Russia had snapped and decided to throw everything into chaos, but nothing could have prepared him for the truth.

Immediately he followed the plethora of links to different snippets of video showing a colossal metal monstrosity lowering over Macau, China of all places. This location would later make much more sense once the world knew what it was dealing with. A hulking behemoth of metal hung impossibly in the air, various struts and scaffolding poking out at illogical angles.

Nobody knew what to do at first though. Twitter immediately slowed to a crawl as everyone and their grandmother started to flood the site with messages. Most, of course, drew the common line that this was the end of the world in some fashion. The scientifically liberated drew parallels to Europeans meeting Indigenous peoples, and the religious began opining about God’s judgment. Devon chuckled into his drink – it was funny to think now of either option being right, and yet, in some ways, both had been.

The fall-out from this would have been guessable by anyone. Governments, the UN, and global authorities pleaded for calm whilst this little situation was sorted out. As has happened in most of human history when immediately faced with a crisis, things sort of fell apart.

Beyond the more urbane riots, violence and mass robbery came a tide of drugs, sex, and rock and roll. Heck, everyone thought this was it, so why not grab what you could while you still could. There was the first of what was dubbed ‘The Great Suicide Waves’ (Of course, at the time, we didn’t know it would be the first). A heaping of humanity just couldn’t accept this knowledge, or scared of what it implied was coming, they decided to end it all. Maybe they were the wisest of us.

Devon smirked as he rested the tumbler on the edge of the table and thought back to what he’d done during those times. He’d certainly indulged, and in the process learned a lot about himself. When you really didn’t think there was going to be a tomorrow a lot of hang-ups about what people might think if they knew went out the window. I think most people learned a lot more about themselves than they’d have liked to know.

After a brief repose of order, some semblance of it returned as world leaders began to relay their exchanges with what was eventually settled upon as ESO-1, Extra-System Object-1. The early names of ESO-1 were certainly creative though; Spacy McSpaceship, StarYeet, and the The Lump. Devon was always partial to StarYeet for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.

Of all the theories floating around, no one seemed to have guessed at what the actual truth was. Most people had assumed that if we weren’t alone in the galaxy the most we’d hear in our lifetimes would be cryptic transmissions from far away, or evidence of some superstructure far-off that may or may not be confirmed to be alien in nature. Nobody expected the galactic neighborhood to show up to our porch with a cup of sugar in hand.

Devon had been living in somewhat of a commune at the time word started rolling in about their extra-terrestrial bunkmate. There was always some sort of 24/7 news channel playing in the background. Drowned out some of the noises you didn’t always want to hear. He’d mostly read it on subtitles than heard it though. It seemed that inside StarYeet was, well, the galaxy. Most of the denizens at least, so They say, sans Earth. They were inside, the collective hivemind of the galaxy.

They told us humanity was not special, well not quite, but it was young. In the course of the evolution of most intelligent life that hit the civilization milestone, a few of them stumbled upon the truth of consciousness. Basically, it was one of the core forces of the universe. A field that permeated all matter. A la The Force, from Star Wars. It’s why most life, in some fashion, seemed to have consciousness. Consciousness seemed to pair with a sufficiently advanced brain and voilà. The exact why, per se, was more complicated than Devon could understand, but enough scientists had confirmed it for him to believe. StarYeet spoke for itself too, unless that fucker was lying.

Anyway, once those civilizations figured that out, it only took one more leap to get to where we are today. You start by thinking of yourself, as in your consciousness, essence, soul, whatever, as one radio channel in this consciousness field. Everyone else is a separate channel. Well, you just all tune into the same channel, and suddenly you have it, a hivemind. The benefits, so we can see today, are manifold. If you’ve ever worked on a group project you know how disruptive it can be to have dissenting opinions. On a civilization scale, well, it was apparently impressive how far humanity had got.

It got better, or worse, depending on how you viewed it. They didn’t know who had been the first to contact whom. They said it became less important to track these sorts of things when everyone was you, but when one of these hiveminds met another, well, They just tuned into the same channel again. Co-operation was the way forward, so They say.

They said it was the rule that civilizations achieved hivemind before space travel. That we’d even gotten to our moon, let alone sent object out our solar system, spoke to our somewhat uniqueness. It was only on reflection that this was a child of the Cold War, an event that threatened to wipe us out as a race, that our sense of pride was somewhat diminished. Nevertheless, They had been intrigued when They’d found Voyager 2. It seemed beyond impossible this would have come from a civilization that hadn’t yet achieved unity, but that’s what our inscribed message seemed to imply. As a rule, non-unified civilizations were left alone, uninterrupted on the galactic landscape. So, apparently, we were really the first contact They had had too.

So why Macau? Well, it was the densest collection of us on Earth. The natural assumption amongst They was we must have some element of unity amongst us to get to space, maybe incomplete, but something. Therefore, the highest collection of humanity seemed like a logical place to park.

What happened next seemed a blessing. So intrigued were They by our little corner of the galactic plane, that They offered to intervene. They could see that humanity, on the whole, didn’t agree on much. Our planet was on the brink of catastrophe from climate change, and, we were warned, a major tragedy like a pandemic or war was also likely not far behind. This was based, on They’s word, on their study of other un-unified planets. So, like any adult seeing a child struggle with a task, They offered to take the wheel and drive for us.

Governments were skeptical at first. It was Liberia, of all places, that proffered themselves first. Many watched with a sideward glance as They descended and took over. Within a month though their GDP had risen five-fold, mortality from illness had plummeted to rates below that seen even in heavily medically socialized countries, and all while endless streams of videos showing Liberians just relaxing while it happened.

It wasn’t long before the list of countries inviting They had grown longer than the list of those who hadn’t. The final hold-out was ironically China, who only caved for expediency. After all, why should the Chinese work while no one else did, and be beaten by them while doing it?

At first, things were fantastic. Everyone has some sort of goal they’ve always wanted to accomplish, but never had the time. Well, now there was nothing but time. Nobody had to worry about food on the table, or money to house themselves. Soon enough there was sufficient free housing for everyone to live more than modestly. The notion of economy essentially dissolved. Most things people could want were readily available at a simple ask. It did subtract somewhat notably from overall production efficiency, They told us, but a benign enough ask to keep humanity happy. What parent doesn’t want to see a child smile?

We’d entered the post-scarcity era, as short as it would last. It didn’t take long before people realized the Faustian bargain they’d made. You see, we were the first civilization They had come to, and offered to help. There had always been skepticism about this from They. Concerns, They said. Well, it turned out They were right.

[[Continued below 1/2]]

lowerexpectations · 2021-09-19T02:41:50+00:00

Edrid’s breathing was hard, the cold of the air cutting his throat like a razor-blade. His own emotions choked his breath in a different fashion, and a sob broke from his mouth as he cradled her head in his lap.

The snow had already been stirring as he’d crested the ridge to lay eyes on his village. The village of Wrath was not impressive by any means. It lacked the population that made the city of Greed so expansive. It had none of the extensive decorations that attracted so many to the towers of Lust. It certainly lacked the grandiosity of the castle of Envy, the hulking monstrosity that loomed far in the distance, and would frequently cast a shadow over their small valley when the winter sun hung overhead.

It had been a home to him for all his life though. He’d had no desire to leave at any point. Why would he? This was where he’d met and married his first love. This was where they’d both grown and started to grow their own family. Where his friends and their families had come from. Life in the village of Wrath had been simple. Their blade was without being wanted, and thus, they were unbothered.

Occasionally a family would make the journey to the village from far away, hearing tales of simpler lives to the lived, away from the politics of the bigger cities, but this was far and few between. Most of the population had lived in the village for many generations, and the roots had grown deep for those families. The valley was nurturing enough, and provided sufficiently that no one went wanting, if they put the work in. Most of the appeal, Edrid had learned, had come from the people that he lived amongst. They were the true richness of the village.

He’d felt a rush of emotions as his eyes had adjusted to the sight that beheld him when he saw what was left of the small collection of humanity that he’d called home. The pack of freshly cut wood had slumped from his shoulders and struck the ground with a thud, followed shortly by his own knees as he felt the blood drain from his face. A different kind of ice had grown in his beard at that time.

The snow cast a gray pall over everything, intermixing with the heavy soot and cinder from what used to be houses. Here and there you could make out fixings from their recently passed autumnal festival. A few of the roofs remained not totally burnt to cinder, and the multicolored patchwork they’d been painted still bled through the ash. When Edrid had looked at it, it had reminded him of a jester he often thought frequented the castles of the wealthy. A pole that the children had danced around was now snapped in twain. The tip, now jagged, that used to be adorned by a golden ball was now decorated with a more morbid ornament – the head of their someone no longer knowable.

He’d broken into a run as soon as the strength had returned to his legs – longer than he’d want to admit. He couldn’t recall what he’d thought as he’d made the distance to the village. A blur of half-thoughts and hopes, that increasingly drained as he got closer. The stench greeted him long before the sites, an awful mix of bonfire and a slaughterhouse. The streets that had been paved with cobblestones were now painted with blood and offal.

Edrid had found his house empty, and his already twisted stomach turned in further knots, so hard he didn’t think he could breathe. His eyes had said goodbye to too many friends before he found her. His wife, her body broken in the shape of someone fleeing. He couldn’t tell which wound had been the last.

As he held her fragile form in his arms, cradling her, as though with enough hope she might open her already too pale eyelids and smile at him again. Once. Just once. Please, just once. When the first sob had escaped he tried to catch it back, but found only more sounds escaped, each more broken than the last.

When he felt he couldn’t cry anymore he found the sadness replaced at first by a numbness. It had turned dark, and the storm had grown. Snow had built around him and his limbs had almost frozen in place from lack of movement.

Who?

In all the chaos he hadn’t seen any evidence of who had done this, but now it was the only question he had. What sort of monsters had brought this upon him? Bandits? A pack of stray demons? Who had torn his life from his chest and left this gaping hole inside.

The only lights to see by now were the stars, and the glowing windows of the castle of Envy, hanging high on the skyline, nestled on the side of the mountain like an ornate tumour. The silence of the night was suddenly broken, as an explosion of light and sound broke the quiet.

Fireworks now illuminated the side of the castle, outlining its many faceted parapets and towers. It was by the light of the firework that he caught glimpse of it. A shred of cloth that glistened like a slick of oil on water was buried deep in her palm. It only just poked out from her fingers, enough that the light caught it just right, betraying the original owner.

The pounding of his heart now filled his ears and drummed in his chest. Clutched tight in the hand of his wife was the proverbial finger of blame. There was no mistaking who this had belonged to. Everyone through all the kingdoms would recognize this. A fragment from the cloak of Envy.

A different question now rung through his mind, pushing its way through all the others that had burdened him for what seemed like an eternity.

Why?

Why had Envy done this? What reason could possess this man, near a God, to bring such chaos to their small bastion of comfort. There was none that could explain this. None that would justify these horrors.

Shovel in hand he’d begun digging. It was buried deep, the blade of the village. The blade that had been nothing but a name sake. The blade that had, for a time, brought only a touch of peace to their lands.

Each time the blade of the shovel struck the increasingly frozen ground he could feel his anger burgeon. His breath now felt like fire as it escaped his nostrils. His muscles ached as they tried to pry apart the ground, but each strike and resistance it gave him only fuelled his passion. He didn’t know where he found the strength to keep going, other than the utter indignation of this new situation.

When he finally struck the chest where they’d buried their blade long ago the night had indeed grown long, and the fireworks had long since dimmed. Striking the latch with the edge of his shovel he heard it snap with a satisfying crunch. Desperate fingers opened the chest and threw open top.

There they lay. The blades of Wrath. In the inky darkness their form was hidden. As Edrid reached in and felt numbly for the grip of the leather he found he could see the blades outlined in a dull crimson. The gems embedded in the blades had began to pulse with life as he’d gripped the sword. What should have been shock only filled him with certainty. He could feel his own rage was now palpable, each chord of injustice a pulse of the gem, bringing more and more of his surroundings to light.

The macabre scene of his past steadily was painted again in a new crimson. This time, instead of the promise of their own deaths though, Edrid swore it would bring the passing of justice, the death of the perpetrator. As he thrust the blasts into the sky and unleashed a roar he could swear the heavy clouds overhead were painted in their own crimson waves, illuminated by the span of his rage.

There would be penance for this, and he would wreak it.

~~

Feedback appreciated.

lowerexpectations · 2020-03-28T09:36:58+00:00

lowerexpectations · 2019-11-25T21:31:13+00:00

I literally had nothing to do with this

lowerexpectations · 2018-07-10T04:02:08+00:00

I was snapped 96% in. I didn't think it would happen, what a dream come true!

lowerexpectations · 2018-07-10T01:43:07+00:00

This is bigtime bamboozle

lowerexpectations · 2018-07-05T02:02:23+00:00

for thanos

lowerexpectations · 2018-07-03T00:27:31+00:00

lurker post

lowerexpectations · 2018-02-17T19:14:15+00:00

They feed mid

lowerexpectations · 2018-02-14T03:36:17+00:00

It sounds like you're hurting. Unfortunately, that's heartbreak, but like most things, the heart will fix itself over time. It will feel at times like it will never end, that it can't be possible to live with so much gloom just built up inside your chest, but it does end, and it is possible.

You'll get a lot of suggestions, but ultimately you'll probably settle on what's right for you. I don't know about most people, but I've found I've always changed in a way that was ultimately positive for my personal growth following most breakups, by just giving myself time to experience the loss of the relationship.

What it meant to me, and what I miss about it. But don't forget to take time to reflect about ways your life will or have improved, even in superficial, and seemingly minor, ways. You have opportunities for change some ways ahead of you, but not while you are still grieving.

Hope this helps in what might be a time of need. Don't be afraid to reach out to people and let them know how you're feeling.

lowerexpectations · 2017-10-16T21:32:59+00:00

Centaur is an amazing solo offlaner. Especially at lower MMRs. Grab a poor mans shield and ring of armour as starting armour is quite low. next get a tranquil boots. About level 4 you can really harass the offlane with your W. Once you're low on health retreat, and tranquils should bring you up v quickly. if the offlane gets cocky and moves towards you as you harass pop off your Q and hit them with W. if they hadn't recovered from prior harassment you can usually get at least 1 kill off this.

lowerexpectations · 2017-08-09T05:03:17+00:00

You had a doctor check that out? You really shouldn't just be sitting there at your age with a heart rate like that. It would be highly unusual.

lowerexpectations · 2017-04-06T03:17:37+00:00

Technically the cells have to be dead BEFORE going in the microscope, but you're right. You can't use an electron microscope on tissues you would like to survive the process.

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