Monday, November 24, 2025

Microstory 2546: Midwife

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I am a Certified Nurse-Midwife, and the only one that this Foundation has ever seen. I have delivered every single child born of Landis, and many of the children of staff members who happened to get pregnant while they were employed, and chose our team instead of another facility. Landis makes an attempt to procreate with one of the legacy consorts once per night, which means that, on average, I deliver one baby a night. But of course, the timing doesn’t work out perfectly. Everybody is different, and every body is different. It has been known to happen that I’ve delivered two babies in one day. My busiest day was on October 7, 2023 when a perfect storm of storks arrived all at once. I’m mixing metaphors here, but I delivered six babies within a period of 24 hours. It was crazy, but an amazing experience. I’m obviously not entirely alone here. There is an obstetrician, and a host of other nurses and doctors. We’re a pretty streamlined outfit, but every mother here is very well-taken care of. Or I should say family. We take care of families here; that’s our mission. I don’t know much about the healing side of things. I’m pretty busy in the Legacy Department. I do know Landis, though. He doesn’t have the time or bandwidth to raise all of the children, and in order for it to be fair, the decision has been made that he doesn’t raise any of them. Researchers fought against this. They actually wanted there to be an imbalance, so they could measure any differences in development. But the psychological well-being of these kids is more important than their research. There are 815 of them right now, and they deserve stability and predictability, as any child would. They are each raised by a single parent, which that parent is fully aware of when she signs up for the program. She’s then reminded time and time again throughout the program that she will be on her own, except for the care that we provide as third party participants. Landis meets every one of his babies once. He holds them for 15 to 30 minutes, and then they move on with their lives. It might sound cold, but it would be impossible for him to be there for them all, and worse for him to give preferential treatment to a handful of them, or some arbitrary number. I can’t speak to his mental state, but outwardly, he has accepted this dynamic. I don’t think it’s easy, but I had nothing to do with the plan for the Legacy program. I just deliver the babies. Some of my colleagues have told me that it’s unethical, and honestly, they may be right; you’re having babies as an experiment. But I do stress to them that the children will be protected for their whole lives, and they don’t undergo tests. They don’t have their blood drawn, or receive shots, or anything that goes beyond the normal, conventional means of physical health. We had to fight the researchers on that too, but the kids aren’t lab rats. They’re people, and if they develop abilities later in life, they will come to that realization on their own, not because some lab tech sequenced their genome. I won’t have it, and I’m backed by the support of everyone at the Foundation, including Landis, as well as the mothers. Like I said, I don’t know if we should be doing this, but since we are, at least I know that we’re doing it the right way.

Sunday, November 23, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: December 11, 2279

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The team was suddenly floating in outer space, next to a three-dozen kilometer tower that was once standing on the surface of Proxima Doma. All they could see was the faint outline of the lightly self-illuminated looming structure. The rest was utter darkness. They could survive like this for now, but they couldn’t communicate well, so they activated their EmergentSuits, and sealed themselves up. “Checking for injuries,” Leona declared. She scrolled through her list, which reported no issues with the team, but it did display something else. “Extra lifesign detected. Or...maybe two. Sync up and jump.” She selected the coordinates, and they all teleported there.
They found themselves in the penthouse of the tower. Aeterna was lying unconscious on the floor. Mateo scooped her up, and set her on a table. “Where’s the infirmary?” he asked, gently brushing Aeterna’s hair away so he could pull her eyelids open to check for a response. He wasn’t a doctor, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He shone a light into each eye, and saw the pupils shrink, which made sense to him.
“There is none,” Ramses replied. “Tertius and Aeterna are both immortal.”
“Obviously not,” Mateo argued. “She’s also pregnant...I don’t know if you noticed. That’s a pretty big change from when we last saw her a few minutes ago.”
Marie unzipped Aeterna’s outfit, and started to feel around on her belly. “It’s as hard as a rock. I don’t know what that means, but it can’t be good.”
“Keep unzipping,” Leona ordered quietly. “I think I’ve seen this before.”
Marie did as she was asked. “Is that what I think it is, or just urine?”
Leona bent over and sniffed. “It’s sweet. It’s what you think it is.”
“She can’t give birth if she’s not awake,” Romana reasoned.
“Oh yes, she can,” Leona contended. “Because we’re gonna help her. Get that thing all the way off of her.” While they were doing that, she held her arms out, and receded her sleeves. She then instructed her nanites to configure into a sanitizer dispenser, connected to the reserves in one of her pocket dimensions. She squirted it all the way, up and down her arms and hands, rubbing them together. She then turned her nanites into exam gloves, and did it all again to sanitize those too. She took one breath, but decided that it wasn’t enough, and continued into a breathing exercise. She lifted one hand again, and apported a sterile knife into it.
“You can’t be serious,” Olimpia said.
Leona continued to look down at the patient as she spoke. “Ramses is right. Aeterna is immortal, just like her father. She told us about it, and demonstrated it. She is injured now specifically because she’s pregnant. The baby is suppressing her immortality because it has to in order to grow. I don’t have to know how to do a proper c-section. I just have to get the child out of her, and she will heal herself.”
“What if she doesn’t?” Olimpia pressed. “What if she needs surgery to...kickstart the healing?”
Leona looked at her wife. “Then I’ll access the central archives, and find out how to do that.”
Olimpia shook her head disapprovingly.
“If we do nothing,” Leona went on, “both of them die. We don’t know where or when we are. We’re not detecting anyone else around. We are all that mother and baby have. Stand back, it might squirt blood. I don’t really know.” Leona just went for it. She cut Aeterna’s body from side to side, then without any instruments, she reached through the seam, and pulled the skin apart. It wasn’t pretty, but she knew she was right. Aeterna would come back from this. She reached further into Aeterna’s womb, and carefully picked up the baby. It was...floppy. That was the only word to describe what the baby looked like. And blue. She was also very blue.
“Oh my God.” Romana started to tear up, and look away.
“I need to lie her down to perform CPR. Someone cut the cord, please.”
Mateo apported his own knife into his hand, and severed the umbilical cord. Leona turned out to be right. Immediately after the connection was severed, Aeterna’s body started to return to normal. Her c-section was beginning to seal itself up right before their eyes.
Leona looked at her, then back at the baby, then back at Aeterna again. “Get a syringe. I need a blood sample.
“What?” Mateo questioned.
“Isn’t there a first aid kit in one of our dimensions?” Leona urged. “Come on! Hurry, hurry!”
“Yes, I got it. Hold on.” Ramses thought about what he needed, then materialized the syringe. He reached down, and tried to poke Aeterna’s arm, but the needle broke on contact. “It didn’t work.”
Leona understood the stakes. “The c-section. It hasn’t closed up yet. Take it from there. Now!”
“I don’t have a second syringe,” Ramses explained.
Angela apported one from her own medkit. She deftly stuck it into Aeterna’s wound, and drew some blood out of it. The needle broke too, and the skin forced it out, letting it fall to the floor.
Aeterna gasped as she sat up, then settled back down, but only for a second. “My baby!”
“This is your blood,” Angela said, shaking it at her. “Will it heal your child? We don’t know what’s wrong with it.”
“Yes, please. Do it now!” Aeterna shouted back.
“The needle’s gone,” Mateo reminded them.
“Use mine.” Marie apported her syringe. She twisted the needle off it while Angela twisted the bad one off of hers.
They put the two good parts together, then Angela tapped on the syringe, and squirted a little bit of the blood out to clear any air bubbles. She carefully slipped the needle into the baby’s vein, and injected her with the crude serum. They waited there for a moment, breathless and scared. More of them started to tear up. Finally, after about a minute, the apparent cure had circulated throughout the child’s bloodstream. Her skin turned pink, and miraculously, she started to cry. Oh, it was so loud and grating, and the most beautiful thing they had ever heard.
Aeterna burst into tears herself as Leona handed her wee girl to her. She continued to cry, but was smiling at the precious life in her hands. Then she started to blink and look a little bit confused. She adjusted her position a little. “She’s moving her arms, but not her legs. Why isn’t she moving her legs?”
“I...I,” Leona eked out. “The blood should have worked. It did work!”
“She’s not moving her legs!” Aeterna repeated.
“Aeterna,” Mateo began. “What is the baby’s name?”
“What? What does it matter?”
“Tell us the name,” Mateo reiterated.
“We hadn’t decided on a first name yet,” Aeterna began. “She was gonna take her father’s surname, and I was gonna surprise him with the idea to name her after his late mother, Delara.”
“Dilara Cassano,” Mateo said.
Aeterna had been staring at her baby girl this whole time, but now jerked her head up. “You know her. You know her in the future.”
Leona solemnly glided over to the wall, and opened the viewport, revealing a black void. No stars whatsoever. “I know where we are. This is The Fifth Division.” She turned back around, and took one step towards Aeterna. “I’m sorry to do this to you right now, in your darkest hour, but...report.”
Aeterna swallowed, but recognized that she had to catch them up. “You failed. You didn’t have the strength to spirit the rest of the tower away, and it crushed you. But you were lucky. The shockwave blasted its way through the dome, and killed everyone. The massive destruction accelerated the instability of the planet just enough to prevent any hope of evacuation. The poles were the only safe places to be, but most couldn’t get to them. And there certainly weren’t enough ships to get them all off planet. Since I was pregnant, I had a pass. I used what little time I had to make contact with the choosing one network, and found someone willing to send me back. He had his limits, unfortunately, so when I returned, I only had enough time to use the tower’s power reserves to give you the energy boost you needed to finish the job. It looks like we succeeded.”
“So there’s another Aeterna back in the main sequence,” Marie realized, “and another Dilara.”
Mateo looked at her. “That’s why she didn’t recognize us. She was a dupe, like you.” They both looked over at Angela.
“So she never walks,” Aeterna asked. “My baby never walks?”
“I’m sorry,” Leona said. “I wanted to go for the bone marrow, but we didn’t have the equipment, and definitely not the time. Once she was separated from you, your body decided that it was ready to be invincible again. That’s what makes you and your father special. You have layers of death defiance.”
Aeterna nodded somberly. “I wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. I always have unprotected sex, because I didn’t think it mattered. Even if my partner had an STD, they couldn’t give it to me, and I have nothing to give to them.”
“How did Tertius have you in the first place?” Ramses asked. He then recoiled, worried that it was an inappropriate question.
“He had some kind of legacy loophole,” Aeterna answered. “It was some special serum that gave him one shot at conception, which he used to make me.”
“Maybe it was lingering in your system,” Leona guessed. “That’s how you have her.” She gestured towards the baby.
“That was our assumption too,” Aeterna agreed.
“Were you pregnant when we met?” Olimpia asked.
“No. I was pregnant when you came back, but that was a year later, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I just...didn’t think it was relevant,” Aeterna defended.
“You don’t owe us an explanation,” Mateo assured her.
Just then, a beam of light appeared. They turned their heads to see a crack in the far wall, right where it met the floor. It looked like someone was trying to break through using a thermal lance. The bean split in two, and each one began to travel up the wall at roughly the same speed. As they moved upwards, more cracks of light began to appear between them, in random, wavy curves. It looked rather familiar. They just needed more information to win this game of Pictionary. Knowing that it could be dangerous, everyone suited up. Mateo figured that it would be unsafe to donate his nanites to a baby, like he had with Boyd years ago, so he stood between her and the mysterious intrusion. The others bunched up to do the same. Mateo commanded the nanites on his front to turn into little cameras, and the ones on his back to become monitors so Aeterna could still see what was happening.
The beams continued to move up in straight lines, and accelerated, until beginning to split off into branches. Oh, it was a tree. The first two lines had formed the trunk, and the curves between them was the bark. Finally, the beams met back up with each other to complete the full image. The light became saturated, and began to fill the room. After one final flash, the light and the tree disappeared from the wall, but left a lingering image in the air. Behind it were two figures, holding both of each other’s hands. As the hologram faded, their eyes adjusted, and they were able to see who it was. Well, they were able to see one of them. The other was covered by a hood.
“Romana?” Leona asked.
“That’s not Romana, Mateo determined.
“Miracle,” Romana said. “Why are you here?”
“I think you know why.”
“Who’s your friend there?” Romana asked.
“I know who it is,” Leona said. “Show yourself. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Adult!Dilara Cassano pulled her hood back, and stretched her lips into a polite, but fake smile. “I didn’t wanna come, but I had no choice.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Leona demanded to know. The team hadn’t budged. There was no reason to relax, and think that Aeterna and Baby!Dilara weren’t still at risk.
“It has nothing to do with the kid,” Miracle began. “It’s mostly a coincidence that Miss Cassano here was the person we found to come pull you back into our reality.”
We,” Mateo echoed. “We who?”
Miracle smirked. It was quite unsettling, seeing her look like Romana, but realizing that she wasn’t their friend anymore. “I think you know who. You broke out of negotiations way too soon, and Pacey is not happy. You need to get back to the main sequence, and back to the Goldilocks Corridor, so you can get back on mission, and assassinate Bronach Oaksent.”
“We have decided not to do that,” Leona retorted.
Miracle laughed. “Oh, I forget. You keep thinking you have choices. That’s enough of that.” She turned her head to face Adult!Dilara. “Do your thing.”
Adult!Dilara hesitated.
“Do it,” Miracle insisted.
Adult!Dilara reluctantly released creepy light vines from her ankles, and sent them out towards the team.
The vines reached their legs, and started climbing up their bodies. They couldn’t be removed. “Your escape modules!” Ramses yelled. “Release them! For the baby!”
They all did it, leaving behind seven caches of supplies to keep the baby alive until Aeterna could find civilization, and then they disappeared in a flash of branching light.

Saturday, November 22, 2025

Extremus: Year 115

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The Induction Ceremony. When Extremus first launched, the captain had a lieutenant as their second-in-command. That sounded practical, and it didn’t seem like they needed anything more. Later on, the lieutenant became first lieutenant, and a second lieutenant position was added. Neither lieutenant rank is a stepping stone to captain. It’s a separate track, and while it’s not technically impossible for someone in this position to eventually become captain, it’s never happened, and that’s not the intended protocol. Anyone of age can be appointed as captain. Hell, Tinaya could have selected some random 18-year-old who failed every class in school, and had severe behavior issues. She would have had no support, and the idea would have been vetoed by the council, but the point is, there is no particular rule for where the next captain comes from. Oceanus has changed all that.
There will now be three vice captains. It’s not entirely apparent what these people will be doing, just that they will compete for the top spot over the course of the next six years. Silveon guesses that they will take turns shadowing Captain Jennings at first, then gradually begin to take on more duties as they become more comfortable with the work. This never happened in his timeline, but he remembers Waldemar partially running his campaign on the idea, along with other broken promises. It was only a misdirect, of course, so he could get in a position of power, and keep it permanently. Now he doesn’t need all those lies. He’s already in, and just needs to beat out two other contenders. Their identities are currently unknown. Waldemar’s selection has been kept under wraps as well. Tinaya knows because he told her directly, but he wasn’t meant to, and technically, he shouldn’t have known yet either. The competition has already started, however. Three dozen young hopefuls submitted their applications last year, and took tests to see who out of them would win the precious few coveted roles. They weren’t aware that they were vying for only two spots, though, rather than three.
Tinaya has the unfortunate honor of announcing the winners. She doesn’t know why they chose her for this. It really should be Oceanus, since this is his thing, but they probably want to use this as an opportunity to suggest that everything is hunky dory in the executive crew wing. “Waldemar..Kristiansen!” she cries with a feigned tone of excitement. The crowd cheers. The other contestants clap too, but not too loudly, because their chances just went way down.
 Waldemar claps as well, and pumps his fist in the air as he’s jogging across the row, and down the aisle, which actually brings a little more energy to his competitors. He knew that he was gonna get picked, yet he chose a seat in the middle so it would be a bigger deal for him to climb over a bunch of people that he just bested. It’s all a performance. Once he’s on stage, he walks over to Lataran, who hands him his ceremonial dagger. Neither of them can figure out the symbolism there. Daggers aren’t part of standard dress for a captain, nor some meaningful symbol of their ancestors. It seems kind of random, but people are loving it. Waldemar stabs the air with it triumphantly, as if he’s a general preparing for battle, causing an uproar in cheers. Maybe it’s a symbol of masculinity. The other two candidates will probably be men too, so...that makes some sense, if you wanna be cynical about it.
Tinaya starts to open the second envelope. She didn’t just pick whichever one was closer. They were quite clear on what the order was. This is Envelope Number Two, and the last one will probably be a bombshell. They’re using envelopes in the first place to be reminiscent of ancient Earthan award ceremony traditions. But. Whatever. “Détha..Partanen!” Okay, maybe it won’t just be a boy’s club. Well, good for them, making it look like there’s any semblance of fairness, and the game isn’t rigged. At least they’re starting to understand optics.
Détha walks to the stage, briskly but with a lot less enthusiasm. Instead, she’s cool and composed, already giving off an air of authority. Tinaya isn’t familiar with her, so she’ll have to look up her file later. That was probably a mistake. There were only 38 applicants; she should have been studying them for the last couple of months. They could be in great danger. If Waldemar feels that his future is being threatened, he could resort to unsavory tactics; even violent ones. Détha, and whoever is in this third envelope, has now fallen under Tinaya’s protection. Hopefully she won’t die herself in the meantime. Détha takes her dagger, and immediately magnetizes it to her utility belt. She doesn’t need to perform.
Okay, it’s the third envelope. Let’s finish this up. Tinaya slices through the sticker with her fingernail, then slips it back through to open it. She stands there for a moment, staring at the name before her. This is bad. This is really bad. Thank God she’s holding it with two hands. She carefully reaches over to her watch, and secretly taps on the clockstopper button. Very few people on this ship have access to this feature. No one else even knows about it. And it’s not private. It’s an all-or-nothing deal, where time stops for everyone, except for the tight inner circle. For a few seconds, she’s frozen in place, like nearly everyone else in this room, except that she and the other clockstoppers are still conscious. This is to give them a baseline position. When she restarts time, they will return to this exact orientation, so no one is aware that time was ever stopped. This can be overridden, if necessary, but they’ll worry about that later.
Time restarts, but only for the few. The majority of the people on the ship, and indeed, the entire universe, is still frozen in time. “What’s the problem?” Oceanus asks, standing up from his baseline.
“You know what the problem is,” Tinaya says, pointing the envelope at him accusatorily.
“I don’t,” Lataran says, shaking off the baseline freeze. There are no lasting effects, but it’s an uncomfortable feeling, being a statue.
“You’re complaining to me?” Oceanus questions. He points towards the section of the audience for people who didn’t apply to be vice captains. “Why are they awake?”
Arqut and Silveon are starting to walk towards them. There’s no teleporting when the clocks are stopped.
“I hacked the system,” Tinaya admits. “They are the only people on this ship, besides Latty, that I trust. I made them clockstoppers, because I need support against people like you...for shit like this.” She shakes the envelope again, but more angrily. It slips out of her hand, and falls to the floor.
Lataran picks it up, and reads, “Silveon Grieves.”
“What?” Silveon asks as he’s approaching with his father.
Lataran scoffs. “We knew it was rigged, but...”
“I did this for the ship,” Oceanus begins to explain. “You told me that Waldemar becomes a tyrant. Silveon is my ace in the hole.”
“I’m a steward,” Silveon explains.
Oceanus shrugs. “Détha is a soldier. It doesn’t disqualify her.”
“I didn’t apply,” Silveon argues.
“Waldemar applied for you. I’m guessing he wants you to fail intentionally, so he can win. But you don’t have to. You can fight. You can become the next captain.”
Silveon is seething. “My mother was captain, and her aunt before her. It’s already a dynasty, it has to end.”
“I barely accepted the position,” Tinaya adds. “I was already worried about the whispers, but they begged me to take it. I’m still not sure that it was the right decision. Now you want to risk even more? Waldemar is a family friend. We can’t add Silveon to the mix. It screams nepotism and cronyism at the same time.”
“You had nothing to do with the selection process,” Oceanus reminds her, “and you will have nothing to do with ascension.”
“Oh my God, we’re not actually calling it that, are we?” Tinaya shakes her head in disgust.
“I know this is weird,” Oceanus acknowledges. “But Waldemar told me the ship was destroyed, and you confirmed it later. I didn’t agree to the vice captain program until he proved that he was from the future, and that proof came in the form of you and the Consul. I was bound by my word after that. I’m just trying to find a loophole.”
“There is no loophole!” Silveon yells. “Waldemar will become king whether any of us likes it or not! All we can do is make him less of an asshole, and spare some lives along the way. If he doesn’t get what he wants, people will get hurt. His ascension,” he says with airquotes, “is inevitable.”
“Why is it inevitable?” Oceanus claps back. “What, is he wearing the hundemarke, or something?”
Silveon grows silent.
“Holy shit, he’s wearing the hundemarke,” Oceanus realizes. “It was destroyed centuries ago.”
Silveon sighs. “You can’t destroy an object’s past, only its future. It still has a few more fixed moments in time that it needs to create.”
“Speaking of which,” Arqut jumps in, “I’ve seen the studies. We can’t keep time stopped much longer. It’s not healthy. The safeguards will kick in, and the way I understand it, you do not want to be too far from your baseline when that happens.”
“Read the name,” Oceanus insists to Tinaya. “It’s already done.” He faces Silveon. “You make your own choices, but I urge you to do everything you can to win. Please. Your ship needs you.”
“I’ll respectfully decline,” Silveon contends.
“You can’t,” Oceanus returns. “As I said, it’s done. If you back out, it will just be down to a race between Waldemar and Miss Partanen. We won’t replace you with another candidate. It’s you, or no one.”
“Let me see that,” another voice demands. It’s Head Councillor Regulus Crusan, who literally just had his own induction ceremony an hour ago. He wasn’t even here when the clocks were stopped. Tinaya is a little surprised that he was already turned into a clockstopper. Evidently, bureaucracy can work fast sometimes. He must have been so confused when he was mingling in a crowd, or talking to a friend. He takes the envelope from Lataran, and examines it, closing it back up to see it from all angles. “I don’t like how this looks, but we have to agree on it before we restart the clocks. Otherwise, we put reality in unnecessary danger.” He shakes it like Tinaya before, but not so angrily, just demonstratively. “Admiral Leithe reads the name, and whoever it is shall accept their role with grace and poise. Understood?”
Oceanus smiles. “Understood.”
“Admiral. Steward,” he prompts.
Silveon takes another breath. “I think you’ll mean vice captain.” He doesn’t like it, but it will keep him close to Waldemar, which could only help in his mission to lessen the negative impact of the Kristiansen Regime.
“Right,” Crusan says. “Do as you’ve been ordered, Admiral.” He hands the envelope back to Tinaya.
Everyone returns to where they were when time was stopped, and gets as close as they can to how they were before. Tinaya waits until they’re all in position to do the same. After she begins the time-restarting timer for eleven seconds, she approximates her own baseline, reopening the envelope at the last moment. She doesn’t even get the chance to smile before she’s frozen up again, millimeters away from her guess. Time then restarts, and she’s free to continue. Now she can smile. Head Councillor Crusan, you sneaky snake. She lowers her hands, and looks out at the audience. “Pronastus..Kegrigia!”

Friday, November 21, 2025

Microstory 2545: Obstetrician

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I’m technically trained as an OB-GYN, but I practice obstetrics. It wasn’t always like that. For years, I worked as an Associate Physician at a private practice for years. I worked there in that capacity for a little too long, in fact. I should have been on the partner track. My boss kept telling me that he would let me buy into the practice to join them one day, but it never happened. It was a boy’s club, and probably not my best idea to apply there in the first place. But I absolutely adored my patients, so I stuck with it. Finally, I had had enough of being dismissed and sidelined. I started focusing on starting my own practice, at first while I was still employed, but then not once they found out, and fired me over it. “If you don’t wanna work here, then don’t work here!” Well, they had to pay into my unemployment insurance by not letting me quit, so who’s the loser now? Sorry, I get a little frustrated, even though I’ve left them in the dust. Starting my own practice was a huge struggle. I had trouble securing the loan, and no one in the industry wanted to work with me, because my old bosses bad-mouthed me to them. I was distraught. I didn’t know what to do. I started reapplying to other practices, but had no luck. I finally decided to just move out here to Kansas. I didn’t even have a job lined up. I kind of just threw a dart on a map, and took what looked interesting. I can’t remember the connection, but someone I knew knew someone who knew someone who blah, blah, blah. I had some six degrees of separation from Landis. They asked me to come work for them for their new legacy department. So, it’s not the same thing as actually owning your own practice, but I’m still the one who runs the place. I make all the decisions, and care for our patients the way I know they should be treated. As I said, I practice mostly obstetrics now, but that’s more of the way we frame it. Obviously, if one of my patients who had her child years ago comes to me with an issue in my department, I’m not going to turn her away. She lives here, and it’s my job to treat her. Oh, my old bosses were so upset when they found out that the Foundation picked me. They actually tried to do the same thing that they did for all the practices in my original area, in the hopes that they would be selected instead. What a bunch of jerks. They still won’t talk to me. They act like I stole their jobs. But my colleagues have my back, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t think that my patients would either.

Thursday, November 20, 2025

Microstory 2544: Consort

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I have always wanted children. My problem has always been finding someone to have them with. I just didn’t click with anyone that I dated. Well, that’s too narrow of an explanation. There was always something wrong with the relationship. He didn’t want kids, or he said he did but it was a lie, or he cheated on me, or we grew apart, or he wasn’t responsible enough. I’m not saying anything special. I broke up with my past love interests for all the same reasons that other people do. I don’t have any family, and the job I had before this was very demanding. I could have cut back on the work, but only if I had a partner to help support the family. It wouldn’t have worked out if I had chosen to go it alone. The baby would have been cared for by babysitters, daycare workers, and/or nannies. Not that there’s anything wrong with those jobs, but I wanted to be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully—and this may make me sound like a jackass—I didn’t sign up to be with Landis, or to have a kid with superpowers. I signed up for a baby, and a home to raise it in. Now I don’t work at all, and I spend my whole day taking care of my little guy. There’s a roof over our heads, and three squares a day. That’s all we need. I’m not greedy. That’s kind of a barrier for entry into this program. Unless you have a job that you can do from home, you can’t really make any money from this. We’re not even given a stipend. If you want something, you request it from the Facilitators, and they purchase it for you, using their company accounts. Again, that’s totally fine with us. These restrictions are important, not only because of their inherent value in protecting the legacies, but because they don’t want millions of people signing up. If it were as easy as requesting that they ship potential mothers a sample of Landis’ seed, everyone would want to do it. Might as well. You have to be able to come here, you have to be willing to have sex with Landis, and you have to be all right with staying put, and just being a mother. It’s not for couples. And it’s not for moms who already have kids. It’s for people like me, who want to devote their lives to raising one amazing child. Superpowers or not, I love him and we’re happy.

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

Microstory 2543: Consort Facilitator

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First, I want to say that I will address the elephant in the room, but let’s just start with my background, and work our way forwards from there. I never thought that I would be doing anything like this when I first began my studies. After high school, I went to Springfield University, where I earned my undergraduate degree in social work. From there, I stayed at the same institution, where I later received my master’s in Counseling Psychology. Armed with these skills, I joined a nonprofit as a Family Planning Specialist. I met with thousands of families over the course of many years to help them understand what they wanted out of life, as well as process events of the past. There was evidently some debate when they first came up with the concept of the Legacy Department—which I named by the way; they wanted to call it Procreation. That was just a little too on the nose, and didn’t clarify the purpose of what we do here. Landis is a very special man, and many people in the world want to be a part of that. We offer some of them the chance. There are those who believe that I worked in the sex industry, and while there is nothing wrong or illegal about that, that’s not my background. Sex work coordinating jobs are all about encouraging people to have sex. That’s their business model. My job is to help people find what they want to do with their lives. And it’s not even about sex; it’s about...well, legacy. Our department is extremely discreet. We occupy the majority of the floors and their suites, currently being on seven total, which most of the staff isn’t even allowed on. Because they don’t need to be. Women find us via word of mouth. They navigate to our nondescript website, where they sign up for more information. We then initiate contact through email, moving on to more direct forms of communications like calls, video chats, and in-person interviews later. We don’t advertise, and we certainly don’t publicize the mothers, or the hopeful mothers. Before they sign up, they have all the information they need. They know that we do not pay, and they do not pay us, but we do support them throughout the whole process. They live at the hotel, and while of course they can leave at will, we encourage them to spend most of the time here, where they can be looked after and cared for. Once the child is born, its protected more strictly. We have everything that they will ever need. Our oldest child is currently four years old, and more are on their way. I must report that no child has exhibited any special abilities. I have no strong feelings on the subject, however. That is not my job. I’m here to make sure that the mothers and their babies are safe and healthy. Whether the objective is met by spreading Mr. Tipton’s ability doesn’t really matter to me. But it’s important to the women, so I make sure we do what we can to help them reach their goals. I’ve been doing it for decades, and I’m not going to stop now.

Tuesday, November 18, 2025

Microstory 2542: Massage Therapist

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I have been a massage therapist for thirty-eight years. I’ve always lived in Springfield, Kansas, and the surrounding areas, working most of my career for the SKS Massage Institute. I honestly don’t know why I was picked to be Landis Tipton’s exclusive masseuse. I think what happened is that the people who run the Foundation looked at our website, and chose me due to my somewhat advanced age. It might not have specifically been because I have so much experience, but because I’m not as spry as I used to be. Well, I should say that it used to be like that. I was having trouble keeping up, and not being able to make my hours. It was hard to afford rent because I just couldn’t work that much anymore. What with my arthritis, and general aches and pains, I don’t wanna say that my clients weren’t happy, but I did notice a few of them come back, but having chosen one of the younger therapists instead this time. After I met Landis, that all changed. So it’s a little ironic that now I’m only working for one client, because I could absolutely go back to work full-time, and feel just fine. What some people may not know is that Landis does not engage his ability. His breath is able to heal anyone who happens to be in the blast radius, so to speak. By working so close to him, that happens to me all the time. I know that he works closely with other team members, like his doctor, nurse, and his assistant, but as far as physical closeness, I’m probably the winner. It’s impossible to quantify, but he has probably healed me thousands of times at this point. He has a session every evening after dinner, which is after work. Unlike a lot of my past clients, he doesn’t need it for any particular problems. He’s a healer, and naturally a self-healer, so he isn’t suffering from anything. This is all about relaxation, and stress reduction. He’s being pampered, and rightly so, and I’m a core component of that. After I’m done with him, he moves onto his night job with the legacy department. He’s been honest with me that he doesn’t love it. I mean, he enjoys it, but it feels so clinical, and he doesn’t have any strong feelings for those women. It really is a job, and that is always how they have framed it. He didn’t really want to do it, but they talked him into it, because it’s one way he can change the world. With me, he wasn’t reluctant. Evidently, he used to get a lot of massages before all this, and appreciates being able to have one every day. I want to be clear about one thing, and then I won’t say anything more about it. I am a professional, and I have a professional relationship with my client, as I have throughout my entire career, with every single one of my clients. Even if I did ever do that sort of thing that’s running through your head, Landis wouldn’t need it, because of his second job. In fact, it would place that program in danger. Anyway, I count myself lucky that my job is so easy. I have lots of hobbies, and they mostly work great indoors. I like to knit and do other arts and crafts. They actually assigned me two separate suites, right next door to each other, almost all to myself. The second bedroom of my sleeping unit is a craft room, and the other room in my work unit is actually where the psychological therapist works with Landis, who is her one client too. It’s the Therapy Suite, as we call it. It makes sense to us to put them together like that. Saves time.

Monday, November 17, 2025

Microstory 2541: Therapist

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When I was still in high school, I took a job working at a university as a Therapy Actor. Students, before they can earn their degree in some type of therapy, have to participate in mock therapy sessions. To protect real patients from those who don’t quite know what they’re doing yet, the school will pay actors to come in, and pretend to have particular issues, so the students can learn. At the time, I thought that I was going to get into acting, so I figured it was a great opportunity. While I was there, however, I found myself more interested in the work that they were doing. I was never planning on ending my education, and moving to L.A. to try to make it big. I would go to college first, and get some real education in the performing arts. I figured I would take some psychology classes as well, so I had something to fall back on. I never did end up pursuing acting. I mean, I took a couple courses too, but psychology became my passion instead. I haven’t looked back. The timing was perfect. As soon as I earned my own master’s degree, Landis and his friends were setting up his foundation. I thought it would be the perfect chance to get in on the ground floor of something groundbreaking and unique. They didn’t really lie—I think they didn’t know how they were going to do it yet—but I was under the impression that I would be the resident therapist for the whole organization. They really only wanted me for Landis himself, as well as maybe a few other clients. I don’t do much throughout the day. Because of how much focus I have to place on him, I can’t pursue other work. I can’t even leave the hotel. I’m not a prisoner, but they really like to keep me close, even though I’ve never been called in for an emergency session, or anything. Landis is a pretty easy client. We mostly talk about his past, before all of these responsibilities. We do it over dinner, which kind of makes it look like a date, but it’s only in the interest of time. We kind of do it as friends, which is a very common form of therapy. Some people need that type of format. They don’t really need to be treated. They need to vent, and they would rather their therapist be able to open up to them a little too. As long as you maintain boundaries, that’s okay, and that’s what works for us. I’m paid to be one guy’s friend, and the rest of the day is for me. I didn’t have any hobbies going into this, because I was always so focused on my studies, but I’ve gotten into arts and crafts. My suitemate got me into it. It passes the time.