You can blame the length of PR's life for that one.

Article Approved! This fourth installment of Nat's saga "Trials of Heaven" contains a variety of different plot twists that will be sure to force the reader to remain on the edge of his seat! However, the real meat of story lies within the fantastic character development as we follow one man's journey on his quest for the threshold of heaven... Beautifully executed piece! Edits -

I did indeed write it with an Eminem style beat in mind. Glad you enjoyed!

Community bondingggg

Congrats to @Goges.Enze & @Pout for your respective promotions to head admin and design admin!

Finally! Adding 3D bushes is going to be a big game changer. THIS IS GOING TO BE HUGE FOR US

The wind battered unmercifully at the shuttered windows of barracks 14. Individual gusts shrieked and moaned like a dying beast gasping for its final breath. Tree branches were ripped off their respective trunks, then dashed to smithereens on any solid surfaces below. The forest was a battlefield; the mighty oaks matched up against an unseen foe that sought utter destruction. All wildlife had fled, both birds and ground dwelling animals having vacated the area upon the first sign of this natural disaster. Wrecking complete havoc, the tornado finally moved on, away from the thick wood, leaving a trail of chaotic devastation in its wake. Unrecognizable, the forest floor was left in ruin, littered with tree limbs and uprooted vegetation. The craving for destruction had not yet been fully quenched, however. The funnel cloud now had another target in mind as it speedily approached a stout wall-like structure directly in its path. Towers were spaced out along the parapet at specific intervals, serving as an elite guard against any would-be invaders. A band of barbed wire could be seen at the foot of the wall, reaching about a fourth of the way up the facade. If it could halt a human enemy was undeniable. Weather, on the other hand, always finds a way. With evil glee, the tornado made short work of the wire, shredding it into a mangled mess, before quickly whistling over the top of the wall and into the compound. The area was perfectly symmetrical, with four smaller sized structures situated at the four corners of the fort. At the center stood an oddly shaped building that dwarfed the others. Its walls were completely smooth, with various small windows forming a ring around the upper half of the building. To an outsider, it would appear reminiscent of a domed bunker, almost something you would envision aliens habitating on a distant planet. Covered passageways, similar in appearance to skywalks but on the ground, connected the central building to the other four structures, which then in turn were connected to the outer wall. The whole complex was painted a slate gray, adding another queer dimension to this otherworldly fortress. Certain of its imminent victory, the tornado system greedily lapped at the structures, seeking to destroy the small windows that were the only guardians between it and the treasure inside. Minutes ticked by, yet the shuttered windows of barracks 14 and its counterparts remained firm. Growing increasingly more furious, the wind threw its full force against the buildings’ smooth sides, but could not grasp onto any moveable object. With one final ferocious gust, the funnel swept over the complex and off to the north, content to seek further devastation elsewhere. What it didn’t know was that it had faced off against one of the most impenetrable fortresses ever constructed. Randy lay on his cot and stared up at the sloping ceiling of the tiny barracks compartment. Only about a 40 square foot space, the room he currently occupied had been his home for the past few days. The area was sparsely furnished; its only pieces other than the small cot were an old wooden table and a matching rickety chair. A copy of “The Prince”, Machievelli’s masterpiece, leaned against a short desk lamp situated on the far end of the table. A sudden silence was what had awakened him. The storm had evidently abated. It was only 4:00 in the afternoon, yet Randy had been dozing on and off for the past couple hours. Somehow, he still felt extremely tired, but that was understandable. The past week had been a whirlwind. It was hard to believe he had received the call only seven days before, a conversation that would inevitably change his life. He let his mind wander back to his former days, then let out an audible chuckle. It felt odd regarding his five years at the San Diego military facility as “former”, and yet that was exactly what it was. Things would probably never be the same. He would never be a “normal” person again. Not that he was normal before. Both his parents had died when he was a small child, forcing him to mature under the roof of an uncle. Uncle Lou hadn’t been all that bad, Randy remembered, but his view on life had been narrow, concerned with only the simplest aspects of life. Randy soon became restless with age and unsatisfied with his daily grind at middle school, and then high school. He received good enough grades to pass his classes, but by no means by flying colors. Outside of school he was bitter, resentful, and lonely. Few things in life made him smile, and even less made him laugh. Life seemed to be hard on the boy, not to mention extremely boring; which is why he had jumped at a career in the military. Within the two months directly following his high school graduation, Randy had already gone through basic training and was beginning a new era of his life at the San Diego base, one that he hoped would prove much more exciting. He made a couple close friends during his initial months employed there and began to get a taste of what comradeship was like. Then another tragedy struck. Just when positive influences had entered his life, they were suddenly snatched away. His two closest buddies were killed in a freak plane accident en route to a training site. Utterly devastated, Randy had vowed never to trust another human being again with his friendship. He couldn’t lose anyone else he cared about. Randy’s face remained stolid as these memories flashed through his brain, his mind and soul hardened by multiple tragic turns of events. For his next five years in San Diego he talked, walked, and acted seemingly without feeling, without thinking. Taking life one day at a time, Randy kept trudging forward as weeks turned into months and months turned into years. Then, last Monday came, like a thief in the night. He remembered the colonel had visited his own quarters. This in itself set March 13th out of the ordinary, but the day was far from over. Randy was to accompany the colonel back to the high security area of the compound on urgent business. Ten minutes later, the soldier was on the phone conversing with a special orders officer, chemical warfare division. This department had use of a final test subject, an elite soldier with no family and a willingness to risk his life. What specifically the officer was referring to couldn't be safely divulged to Randy until he arrived at top secret complex NO. 5, better known as Drefenhawk Testing Facility. However, the officer had assured him this much: that it would be both groundbreaking and potentially dangerous. The question was: would he volunteer? Randy recalled the moment vividly. He had hesitated with his initial answer. In one second his mind had replayed all the memories he could recollect, similar to what he was doing this minute in barracks 14. Suddenly, everything had become clear. His whole life had led up to this opportunity; Randy was the one, and the only one. He had flown out of San Diego the very next morning. Now, still sprawled out on his cot, the soldier took a deep breath in an attempt to slow his beating heart. Randy glanced at the bronze watch on his wrist. He had slept longer than he had intended. The experiment would take place in under an hour. He sat up slowly, then instinctively clutched at his left shoulder as a stab of pain shot down his arm. Over the past few days at the testing facility, his routine had included frequent doctor visits, where he was given multiple injections a day, According to the scientific team at the site, these shots had the purpose of building up Randy’s body in order for him to effectively retain the main chemical. Another mainstay in his recent schedule was long meetings with the head scientist at Drefenhawk, Dr. Franklin Bly. It was through these conversations that Randy learned why he had come and the backstory behind the facility itself. He still couldn’t quite believe it himself; it was something you only heard about in fantastic stories. However, if it was factual, Randy felt compelled to be at the forefront of this unparalleled investigation. The elusive hunt for true invisibility had plagued scientists around the world for countless years. Tales of transparent people were circulated on multiple different occasions, but no concrete evidence was ever obtained that such a possibility even existed. If indeed possible, the impact it would have both in the military environment and the commercial world would be unmatched. If a global superpower had access to this kind of weapon, the effects would be enormous. It was with this in mind that nearly three years ago the American military had organized a scientific team charged with a highly confidential and daunting mission; one that would rival the Manhattan Project of the WWII era: to discover a source that could turn an ordinary human being completely invisible. Codenamed Operation Albatross, its testing and research center was located in one of the most remote and protected facilities ever built - Drefenhawk. Within the first year, the team had miraculously discovered a certain organic chemical, when separated from its natural base, could reverse both the effects of melanin and heme (protein in hemoglobin that colors the blood) in the human body. This could be the first step to figuring out the mystery of invisibility, the scientists hoped. There was only one problem: this chemical was extremely rare. Only about twenty grams of the substance was known to exist, excavated over fifty years earlier in the Central American country of Panama. Now at a roadblock, research was stalled as effort was placed in locating a secondary supply of the substance. Over a year passed without any luck, which instigated talk of quitting the search and beginning a whole new investigation back at square one. However, as fate would have it, just a week before operations were scheduled to halt, some revitalizing information was obtained. Via an intricate communication network, word was sent to Drefenhawk that a new source of the chemical was located, this time in the jungles of northern South America. By early the following week, samples had arrived at the facility lab and initial testing had commenced. Further research confirmed that this mysterious enzyme did indeed have the capabilities of turning living organisms translucent. When tested on pigs, it was found that instead of light being reflected off the animal’s body, light was actually refracted through its hide. In the days that followed this sensational discovery, the team worked feverishly to prepare for the ultimate goal - a successful human test. It took another week to develop an injectable liquid that, based off multiple ape test subjects, did not provide any noticeable side effects. Additionally the chemical was diluted to afford 48 hours of invisibility to the patient. Vials prepped, research exhausted, and product finalized, all that was left was to procure a willing subject. That’s where Randy came in. It was less than a half hour now until the test. Randy sat motionless on the side of the cot, relishing these last few moments alone with his innermost thoughts. He was prepared for things to go awry. Bly had given him a fair warning that, while fairly certain of the precise effects, he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure of a successful experiment. There was no possible way to guarantee that the chemical would work exactly as intended. Randy had been informed that mutations or additional side effects could occur. Meanwhile, the soldier faced the unknown with grim determination and anticipation. One thing was for sure: his life would never be the same. Then there was a knock on the door. As if in a dream, Randy sluggishly rose from his sitting position and grasped at the knob. A grizzled doctor dressed in immaculate white garb stood on the tiny threshold. Flicking up a lab visor, the stranger remained silent for a moment. He seemed to be evaluating Randy. Evidently satisfied, he gave a quick, decisive gesture. “It’s time.” Randy gritted his teeth, nodded, and, without a word, followed the other man down the corridor. There were no belongings or personal items to gather in preparation for a night in the test chamber. Randy was in a far off place with very little to call his own. As the two men proceeded across the groundwalk, it became clear to the soldier how solitary the facility really was. The passageways were completely devoid of people, giving Randy a slight sense of apprehension. He was a stranger caught in the midst of a clandestine operation. No one besides the staff members themselves knew where he was. He was utterly alone. With a violent shake of his head, Randy attempted to brush away his misgivings. It wasn’t as if he was being led before a firing squad. He always had the option to opt out… but for what reason? He had no family or friends to return to. No, his fate was certain. Before long, the two figures emerged from the narrow corridor and into the wide, domed expanse of the central structure. This was the heart of Drefenhawk; the space where research was conducted, experiments were run, and theories were formed. The ring of windows gave anyone inside a clear view of the night sky beyond, as the brightly shining stars began to emerge from behind a quickly dissipating cumulonimbus cover. A small group of attendants milled about underneath an enormous wall monitor at the far end of the room, and a row of labeled office doors were scattered along one side of the wall in a semicircular arc. It was the largest of these offices that the soldier was ushered into. With a slight nod, his escorter abandoned Randy in the doorway and disappeared back down the corridor, in the direction they had just come. Randy’s heartbeat escalated further as he stepped inside the room. Dr. Franklin Bly was seated behind a very modern desk-like contraption, complete with a built in microscope and other various scientific instruments. He was dressed in identical habiliment as the other doctor, save for any facial covering. Bly rose expectantly and greeted the soldier with a smile. “Well, Randy, this is it. I trust you are sufficiently rested and ready?” The soldier’s voice came out monotone, as if some force within was operating his larynx. “I’m ready.” The conversation was brief. Both men knew the gravity of the situation. Adrenaline had now fully kicked in and was coursing through the two men in waves. Their surroundings were altogether forgotten, swallowed up by an imperative concentration for the task at hand. Randy lifted a hand to his head and brushed off a trickle of cold sweat that had seeped down onto his eyebrow. Slowly and methodically Bly produced a small vial from a desk compartment and proceeded to remove the carefully wrapped instrument from its casing. A second later he clutched the naked tube in his hand. “I have great respect for you, Randy,” the scientist remarked without looking up. “Even though this operation may be confidential for now, in time your service to this country will be made known.” Randy merely grunted in response as he fought to gain control over his nerves. He knew that in order to see this experiment through, it would be vital to have absolute mastery of his mind. Negative thoughts would have to be banished, but it was easier said than done. It took Randy a moment to realize Bly had resumed talking. “... I want to outline a couple of details. After the appropriate dose is administered, you’ll immediately retire to the adjacent room here,” Bly indicated behind him. “There is an emergency button located on the inside of the door. If you feel any odd sensations, don’t hesitate to act accordingly. Someone will be monitoring the premises throughout the night.” The head scientist pulled out a drawer and removed a small bottle. He placed it on the desk. “In addition, you’ll take three of these sleeping pills. I’m not sure what exactly your body will be experiencing immediately following the injection, so it would be better if you were out cold until tomorrow morning. By that time, the chemical will be in full effect.” The doctor paused, then situated the vial between his fingers and attached the appropriate needle. The clear liquid contained within seemed to dance as Bly motioned for Randy to approach the desk. Robotically, the soldier removed his shirt and drew a deep breath, combating the overwhelming urge to walk out. The doctor knelt on the floor and hesitated, needle poised and ready for insertion into Randy’s side. “Soldier, this is your last chance to call it quits. No one is forcing you to do this. The risk is great… but the possibilities are greater.” On the inside, there was great turmoil. Emotions and memories swelled and faded, clashing with one another deep in Randy’s core. The soldier exhibited none of these feelings, however. Instead, he stared straight ahead, hands curled into lethal fists of pent up anticipation. With a sharp intake of air, he made his stance clear. “I’m willing to take the risk.” There would be little else said the rest of that evening. The chemical took less than a minute to inject. All Randy felt was a tiny pinprick of pain where the needle broke through the skin barrier. Just like that, it was over. There would be no rewriting history. For all Randy knew, the experiment could go horribly wrong and he’d end up dead by morning. At the moment though, other than a bit lightheaded, he felt perfectly fine. In somewhat of a dazed state, the soldier looked over at Bly, who gave a reassuring nod in return. Randy would never forget the look on the doctor’s face that instant. It reminded him of how a psychologist would assess a mentally ill patient. They locked eyes for a brief second, each displaying to the other their own state of mind. For one of the men, it was the realization that there was no turning back. For the other, the acknowledgment that the result of this test would either mean a historic breakthrough or a dismal failure. Silence reigned. Randy suddenly broke the trance with a movement toward the chamber door. He slowly scooped up three of the pills, then turned back towards the doctor. Bly reached out and grasped Randy’s shoulder. “Good luck.” It was two simple words, but strangely it was enough. Nothing else needed to be said. Randy pivoted and entered the adjoining chamber. A bed lay directly in the middle of the room and overhead a fan whirred noiselessly, its blades slicing through the muggy air. When Randy turned back around to take one final look, Bly had gone. A resounding metallic ring echoed off the four walls as the soldier shut the iron door, then he half collapsed, half lunged onto the mattress. It was a challenge to slide the pills down his dry throat, but he eventually succeeded. The fast working drug, coupled with his mental exhaustion, quickly catapulted Randy into a deep sleep. He had many theories regarding what the next morning would bring, but not in his wildest dreams could he ever come close to guessing the truth. * * * * * * Randy awoke some time later. Contrary to the split second confusion many people experience, the soldier immediately remembered why he lay in a windowless, cell-like room. Whether it was morning or not he couldn’t say for certain. His initial thoughts were positive. He was alive; that much was for sure. If the chemical had worked as intended was still to be determined. Randy stiffly sat up on the bed and flexed his hand, but it was impossible to discern movement, let alone anything at all, in the pitch dark chamber. The soldier rolled over with a grunt, groping for the light switch he knew was right above the headboard. A second later, the room was flooded with illumination, forcing Randy to momentarily shield his vulnerable pupils. He then slowly extended his right arm, half expecting to see right through to the steel wall beyond. However, his upper appendages were visible and, as Randy learned a couple seconds later, so were his torso, legs, and feet. Was this a promising sign? The soldier hardly knew. It was one thing to be able to see his own body, but an entirely different matter to be visible to others. There was an endless number of possibilities, and Randy wouldn’t be convinced of anything until he saw his own reflection in a mirror. He sat motionless for a couple seconds, debating what course to take. Bly hadn’t mentioned any specific instructions regarding the next morning, and he doubted ringing the emergency bell would be the best choice. Coming to a conclusion, Randy straightened up and took a decisive movement towards the looming metal door. However, just as he reached for the knob, the huge frame suddenly swung in on itself and nearly collided with his outstretched hand. The tremor of voices quickly rushed into the soundproof room, heralding the entry of Franklin Bly. A moment later the doctor appeared inside the doorway. “Ah, Randy, we... “ the head scientist paused mid sentence and went rigid. The chamber suddenly became deathly silent, a mixture of confusion and disbelief painted of the face of the scientist. Randy stood stock still, staring back into the shocked face of the man before him. He didn’t like the abrupt way Bly had broken off. Something was seriously wrong. Bly himself seemed to be frozen, suspended as time slowly ticked by. He attempted to speak, but only a jumbled mess of words issued forth. The soldier’s heart skipped multiple beats as he descended into a panicked state, frantically trying to read the problem that was so evident on the head scientist’s facial features. Randy glanced back down at his torso, persuading himself to believe that he hadn’t mutated into a detestable monster. Bly finally took a step forward, his gaze transfixed on his test subject. “But… it’s not possible,” the scientist spluttered, shaking his head forcefully. “It can’t be possible.” Grabbing his head between his hands, Bly began to massage his temples in an effort to stay calm. He staggered towards Randy and placed a quivering hand on the soldier’s shoulder. Randy’s felt compelled to back away, then quickly constrained himself, silenting battling the inclination to completely freak out. “What… happened to me?” The question sounded cold and blunt, the words stabbing at the still air. There was no immediate response from the doctor, who was still staring intently into Randy’s eyes. Bly swallowed, and his adam’s apple bobbed up then back down. “You’re… you’re…” the scientist’s voice was almost a whisper. He coughed and looked away. “You’re me…” “What?” Randy retorted, not grasping the meaning. He stood there half paralyzed, his mind working furiously. For the third time he glanced down at his own body, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Still, he needed a mirror to be sure. Completely disregarding the two other staff members who were just now entering the chamber, Randy took off at a full sprint through the anteroom, across the lab area, and down the nearest corridor. Presently, he heard the footsteps and shouts of pursuers behind him, but Randy was only concerned with one thing, the overwhelming urge to see his own reflection. The soldier took a sharp left turn at the end of the groundwalk and raced down to the far end of the barracks building. There, conveniently located just outside the entrance to the bathrooms, was a large, full-body mirror. Skidding to a halt, Randy pushed both of his hands up against the glass and wildy stared into the mirror. His breath came in short gasps, condensing on the glass pane and partly blurring his image. Much to his surprise, both his face and body looked perfectly normal. Confused and bewildered, Randy almost wished he could see some kind of mutation. At least then he would know what had effectively destroyed Bly’s nerves. The soldier took a step back and, through the mirror, saw the facility personnel quickly approaching. He turned to face the men, but suddenly stopped and whipped back around. For one split second, Randy had glimpsed something terribly wrong in the mirror. Now, his reflection appeared normal yet again, but he was aware that there had been a change, an alteration, to his features the minute he had shifted his gaze to the Drefenhawk scientists. “Randy…” the soldier felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He ignored the constraint, advanced a step closer to the mirror, and pressed his forehead against the glass, afraid to take his eyes off his reflected image. Was his mind playing tricks on him? The blurry line between fact and fiction was quickly dissolving, leaving Randy doubtful of his own sanity. A screaming headache engulfed his conscious, and he felt extremely sick to his stomach. Even as the scientist behind him tried to drag Randy away from the mirror, the soldier stumbled to one side and collapsed on a heap on the unforgiving stone floor. The last thing Rany remembered was the blatant amazement on the face of the man stooping over him. Then everything went black. * * * * * * It was nearly an hour later that Randy finally regained consciousness. Before he had even fully opened his eyes, he was aware of a dull pain emanating from the back of his scalp. Wincing, Randy lifted a hand to his hairline and ran a finger over what he guessed was a jagged line of dried blood. His emotional collapse, coupled with a foreign chemical in his bloodstream had left Randy’s body in a weakened state. The past twelve hours seemed like a living nightmare. Heaving himself up on an elbow, Randy took stock of his immediate surroundings from the vantage point of a raised cot. Before much assessment could be made, however, a voice sounded behind him. “We need to talk.” Bly took a seat on the cot opposite that of the soldier. Randy was startled at how calm the head scientist appeared. The nervous breakdown Bly had experienced an hour ago hadn’t left any long lasting effects on either his appearance or demeanor. He had exchanged his uniform white smock for a plain gray t-shirt, revealing a silver necklace that hung limply around his neck. “Regarding what happened earlier…” Randy unceremoniously cut him off. “What did happen?” Franklin Bly hesitated, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The problem is, Randy, I don’t know exactly what happened myself.” The scientist drew a deep breath, then exhaled in a drawn out sigh. “I’ll tell you what didn’t happen. Invisibility. The effects must vary between different primates. For apes, light was refracted. For you… the light was perfectly reflected.” Randy fidgeted impatiently. “Meaning instead of accomplishing invisibility, we created a mirror. Your face, Randy, is a mirror. Even now, as I look at you… I see a perfect replication of myself.” The soldier opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped. As much as he would like to deny it, it was true. He had seen the effects himself. Randy was grimly silent as he processed this information. It meant that for the next two days, his personal identity no longer existed. For that time period he would be a walking reflection of those around him. The thought both scared and intrigued him at the same time. Bly cleared his throat. “The effects should wear off within the next 36 hours. Meanwhile, when you’re ready and if you’re willing, I’d like to run some additional tests.” For the rest of that day and well into the evening, Randy was subjected to a wide range of experimental analyses designed to probe the boundaries of the odd feature he now possessed. One of the major discoveries was found during a group test. Bly had stationed a variety of different staff members around the room about twenty feet apart from one another. He then directed Randy to stare at the first person, who, in turn, would look the soldier back in the eyes. After ten seconds had elapsed, the soldier would move to the next man, shifting his gaze on down the line. Not only did all the doctors, scientists, and attendants claim to see their own features reflected on Randy, but when the soldier’s gaze was fixated on another person, they would instead see his/her facial features presented. In conclusion, the image an observer saw solely depended on who Randy was currently looking at. Randy had become the embodiment of whomever he set eyes on. When shifting his sight from one human to another, his face appeared to undergo an inexplicable contortion process. Within nanoseconds, his face could alter from a young adult to a graying, old man. It was truly something out of a sci-fi movie… only this was real, as unbelievable as it seemed. Bly had absolutely no explanation for the effect, logging every experimental result in a highly protected lab folder. He worked quickly but effectively, overseeing the development of each separate test and directing those involved. The work stopped just shy of seven that night. Both Randy and the Drefenhawk staff were running on fumes at that point, having spent nearly ten straight hours assisting in various testing methods. After some food and a quick blood test, the soldier returned to his familiar room in the barracks. Even though he respected both Bly and the rest of the staff, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being a trapped beast. However, he took consolation in the fact that the chemical would become ineffective within the next 24 hours. If nothing else had been accomplished that day, at least the constant action had forced Randy to, at least somewhat, forget that to those around him, he wasn’t Randy at all. So when two days had passed without any change, the soldier began to inwardly panic. Bly had exponentially increased the number of blood tests with each additional day, with disastrous results. According to the samples, the chemical showed no sign of being cleared from Randy’s bloodstream. Instead, it appeared that his kidneys and other vital organs were slowly adapting to accompany the alien fluid. A week elapsed with no change. Drefenhawk had since transformed itself from an innocent testing facility to a highly secure jail complex. He was trapped between confinement and the yearning for an antibody. For it was this that Franklin Bly was frantically searching for. Some type of chemical mixture that would counteract the initial dosage and cancel the effects. March turned into April, and still nothing. Meanwhile, due to the clandestine nature of the whole operation, Randy wasn’t even allowed to leave the facility. Much of the time he spent lying on his cot, thinking. Who was he if his face lacked any unique, recognizable features? No more than a puppet; an imitation of the people he came into contact with. He truly possessed the ultimate disguise, yet what benefit could such a power bring him? It was during these internal musings that Randy discovered just how powerful the “disguise” was. The effects weren’t just limited to sight. They could also be initiated via the mind. If Randy focused on a specific person hard enough, he could, in fact, resemble their appearance. The impact this would have on his life would obviously be enormous, yet he told no one of his new discovery. He was the one who had to cope with it, not the scientists. As the hope of counteracting the chemical became more and more obsolete, the soldier began to think of applications for his accidental disguise. Military sabotage and spy networking came immediately to mind. If Randy had the ability to perfectly impersonate anyone he had ever come into contact with, there were no obstacles or potential hazards to these normally deadly missions. He could transform into any random person he chose. It reminded him of some superhero power he had read about in comic books as a kid. There was only one difference - this was real life, and it was happening to him. After a total of two months contained inside Drenfenhawk, Randy was officially released. However, contrary to the unrestricted freedom he craved, Randy was put under strict orders to return to his original military base and await further instructions. For everyone involved in the covert operation Albatross, a huge problem had manifested itself. If Randy was allowed to assume a normal life as a US citizen, publicity would be unavoidable. As an inevitable result, information would be leaked and eventually the site of Drefenhawk could become publicized. These concerns were presented to Randy upon his arrival in San Diego, and without much hesitation, the soldier agreed to rejoin the military. In his own eyes, Randy took it for granted that he would never be able to lead even a semi-normal life anymore. Throughout his next few years serving as a special intelligence officer, Randy couldn’t shake the feeling that he could be doing more, applying this one-of-a-kind power to better benefit the human race. Maybe it was the faint memory of “superheroes” from his childhood, or maybe it was due to all the devastation he had endured in his younger years, but Randy longed to use his ability to somehow fight oppression. As for now, he was content to be a part of the intelligence corps. His post army days would come soon enough. The other soldiers and officers within his division were never quite comfortable around Randy, but they respected his military leadership and knowledge. With no face to connect the name “Randy” to, his superiors often just referred to him as “person random”. However, no one but Randy himself could truly fathom the extent of his abilities. The days of Person Random were only beginning. PyTHOR Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictitious and has no literal connection to the life of Person Random

Love the idea! Great way for the community to further bond together.

Good luck parkourists!

? Was the avatar a zoomed in picture of a human shin?

It can be anything you'd like. Let your imagination run wild.

Great idea & great prizes. Good luck to all participants!

Good luck buddy!

@Rockstarcandy_YT I actually experienced this same problem a couple years back. For some reason I couldn't change my self destruct key in settings, and my delete key didn't seem to be functioning properly. Eventually, I discovered that by hitting fn delete I could, in fact, self destruct. I'd suggest trying that if you haven't already.

@classic-style-hiphop @cube3e @Aligatorzyca Congrats to the 3 musketeers. Welcome to the SM team!

Article Approved! Today, Lose brings us a hilariously relatable guide outlining the various types of players you will experience in parkour battles. I had a few laughs myself while editing the article! Which stereotypes do you run across the most often? Which ones do you sometimes embody? Let us know! Edits -

I dunno... I'm just getting an overwhelmingly spiteful vibe regarding Rail Prime. @LOLKILLERTOTHEDEATH what has Rail PR ever done to you?

Prizes do seem a bit slim.

Interesting concept. Brings up another question that merits much thought... What if each hull had multiple overdrive capabilities? What if you had the option of choosing which overdrive you'd like to employ? Food for thought.

Article approved! Another fantastic installment of "Containment in Skyscrapers" hits the AWS. In Chapter 12, the survivors must band together to overcome the bleak and barren wilderness that has become their home. Meanwhile, a brand new world is discovered far beneath the compound, home to a devastating and destructive people. Will the survivors have enough courage to conquer a sense of foreboding that lurks at every turn? Great job tcola! Keep up the amazing work! Edits -

Due to popular demand, the font and color schemes have been reverted back to the default settings. Enjoy!

MLB is finally back. With an abbreviated 60 game season, really any team has a chance to make a significant impact. Would love to hear everyone’s predictions on the 2020 season.

Not much, but I’ll take it.

Volt - “The king of coloring inside the lines” Congrats to all winners!