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Wrong Identity
"Let go!" Curtis screamed, though the sound that left his throat was a distorted, electronic screech. He could see the Enforcer advancing through the haze, its movements fluid and devoid of doubt. It didn't hate him; it didn't even see him as a person. To the machine, Curtis was simply a misplaced piece of equipment, a tool that had fallen behind a workbench and needed to be retrieved. The Enforcer reached out a ceramic hand to grasp his shoulder, and in that moment of proximity, the tether's signal peaked, attempting to force a hard reboot of his consciousness.
By Forest Greenabout an hour ago in Fiction
Wrong Identity
"Don't celebrate yet," Soren cautioned, though he was limping toward Curtis with a look of fierce pride. "The signal didn't just break; it rebounded. We’ve effectively shouted our location to every satellite in the quadrant. This was a skirmish, Curtis. The war is just starting."
By Forest Greenabout an hour ago in Fiction
Year 1781: Fun Facts, Trivia, and History
This quick read presents a mix of fun facts, trivia, and history events from the year 1781. Discover the year’s top news stories, most influential people, historic firsts, U.S. economic data, entertainment trivia, retail prices, and much more.
By Gregory DeVictorabout an hour ago in History
What 33 Years of Watching Anime Have Taught Me
It is amazing to realize that I have spent about 35 years watching anime. It was the first piece of media that I consumed on my own. I have watched so much, and it is amazing to see how far technology has developed to enable us to consume more. I remember when the only time you could watch anime in the US was if they showed it in the early hours on a local station. Then Toonami on Cartoon Network made big strides in anime and had numerous people, including myself, going through different options. When Toonami didn’t have something, I remember going through YouTube to find the anime that I wanted to watch.
By J. Davis Malloryabout an hour ago in Geeks
Wrong Identity
Soren didn’t flinch, but his hand tightened on Curtis’s arm, a silent command to remain an extension of the stone. The machine began to scrape at the narrow opening, its talons screeching against the salt-crust, carving deep, jagged grooves into the wall. It wasn't seeing him, but it was feeling the displacement of air, the heat signature that the grounding plate had dampened but not entirely extinguished. The Stalker let out a low-frequency chuff, a burst of compressed air meant to clear the dust and expose the hidden prey.
By Forest Greenabout an hour ago in Fiction
Wrong Identity
As they climbed a steep incline of basalt, the narrow confines of the tunnel gave way to a wide, open plateau. Below them lay the heart of Anchorage. It wasn't the city Curtis had imagined, but a cluster of dwellings woven into the very anatomy of the gorge. Homes were carved into the magnetite spires, connected by swaying rope bridges made of cured hide and rusted cable. Gardens of pale, light-drinking ferns clung to the undersides of cliffs, and small fires flickered in the depths of the canyon, sending thin ribbons of peat smoke drifting upward toward the purple sky.
By Forest Greenabout an hour ago in Fiction
Wrong Identity
Curtis looked around the hall at the sleeping forms of the others. They looked so fragile in the soft light, a collection of scarred skin and clicking gears. The thought of a recovery team descending on this precarious sanctuary sent a cold spike of dread through him. He thought of the Stalker—the blind, scent-driven horror—and realized that the machine had been a mere curiosity compared to what a full-scale extraction team would look like.
By Forest Greenabout an hour ago in Fiction
