Headlights for 2011 dodge durango

I’ll start off with two controversial ones:
-Mk4 Supra: The car in itself is never a bad one, but I hate it because the curvy body didn’t appeal to my taste, and I’m a big sucker for the Mk3 Supra, which really is the one I would love to pay attention to.
This car and the engine are overrated af, with brain dead kids and TikTokers worshipping it and saying it’s the best car to ever exist.
-New Challenger: Another great car, however, I personally feel that Dodge is really focusing on power figures more than anything else, and that’s something that turns me off.
Power figures as a market are not a problem, but just something about these cars making too much power is tacky for me, since I feel these are supposed to be a step up from someone driving a sub 100 or 200 hp econobox, and it requires only a sufficient amount, not way too much. Also, a powerful car need not always be fun, due to how much you have to be careful with while controlling.
Sorry if my choices don’t work for everyone 😬😬

I'd like to start by letting everyone know that the genre is Fantasy Epic, and that this is a long prologue at 6,414 words. This prologue serves a purpose as it takes care of a lot of my setting and plot setup. It also gives the reader a fair bit of worldbuilding without making it too much of an info dump (talking to you Robert Jordan ;P).
I've had several people beta read this for me and gotten a lot of positive feedback. The prolbem for me is that these were all people I know very well on a personal level. Several have made comparisons to Chronicles of Narnia or Lord of the Rings as far as how well the full book is written. The problem is, friends and family can often have a bias and make things seem better than they really are. So, now I want to do a test run in the real world and see what people who don't know me think. Is it as engaging and compelling as they have made me hope that it is?
I'm basically wanting to take a page from a couple authors I admire and follow the ABC rule for critiquing. Please let me know of any point where you thought it was Awesome, Boring or Confusing. I know prologues aren't everyone's favorite thing, but this has basically been written like a novella for the main story as it foreshadows a lot of things leading all the way into book four.
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PROLOGUE
ARCHIVE INFINITUM
October 14, 844 (Alt-Future)
"Welcome back to the Archive, Master Jonathan."
"Thank you, Charles. It's good to be back. Have you noticed anything interesting in the Physical Realm?"
"I have not, sir. Do you require any assistance today?"
"Thank you, but no. I'm only here to revisit a passage within the history of the Order. Shortly after, I'll depart for the reunion at the Tower."
"Excellent, sir. I'll leave you to it."
Jonathan emerged from the ether and walked through the Archive doors. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in the familiar scents of dusty cleanliness that can only truly be found in a place of learning. The lights reflected off the floor's white marble surface, casting a glow that evenly lit every corner of the large chamber. Even so, the room still felt cavernous to him, as if he were a galleon amidst the vastness of the ocean.
Jonathan appeared to be in his early to mid forties. Though, with the way he carried himself and the spring in his step, he seemed closer to his late twenties. His hair was shoulder length and dark gray. He wore bifocals though he hadn't needed them since his ascension, and dressed with a refined sense of style.
His gray eyes were by far his most interesting feature, though. They were the only hint of how old he truly was and the many adventures and travesties he'd witnessed. Regardless, how old he was didn't matter as age had long since lost its meaning for him. After all, being an immortal tended to give a man new priorities in life.
As he strolled across the room, a lift descended from the tower's heights. The square platform had waist high rails around its perimeter. It floated through the air showing no sign of a suspension system to raise or lower it. This was accomplished by a magical enchantment that allowed it to levitate and dart about the room at mind numbing speeds. As he stepped up onto the platform's dais, it landed on the floor in front of him. He took a position at its center, then, after folding his arms behind his back, mentally willed it to take him to floor eight hundred forty four.
It rose off the ground, gradually gaining speed until it was a hundred or so feet in the air. At that point, the platform took off like a rocket. The thought of what these speeds would do to him if this were outside the Realm of Intellect crossed his mind, making him chuckle nervously. He knew he had to be moving close to six hundred miles per hour.
Now, let me tell you a bit about Jonathan's pet project, The Archive Infinitum. The Archive is a magical structure he'd designed shortly after the cataclysm that nearly wiped out the human race. An event most of you now refer to as the Night of Burning Skies. That same event is also what gave us the powers we now refer to as magic.
Shortly after obtaining his ascension, he learned that science's multiverse theories were close to how reality really worked. There are an infinite number of parallel universes, or branching timelines, that coexist simultaneously. What was different is that each universe shared a common six realm structure. The Physical Realm, the Realm of Intellect, the Dominion of Shadows, the Plane of Enlightenment, the Land of the Forgotten, and the Ether.
He built the Archive within the Realm of Intellect so it wouldn't be bound by the laws of physics or time as we know them. Once the structure was anchored in place, he could set most of those parameters himself. What he didn't realize was that making it here would have an unintended, though not unwelcome, side effect. The structure's size, shape, and architectural style could change by anyone who entered it.
When someone enters the Archive, it ascertains their strength of mind and will. Suppose the individual's mental fortitude is deemed stronger than that of the other occupants. In that case, the appearance will adjust to one that best serves and appeals to that individual. This could become unsettling for the occupants already inside the first few times it happened. That being said, it has no effect on the contents atop the shelves or where you're located within the structure. For Jonathan, it shared an uncanny resemblance to the George Peabody Library, though on a much grander scale.
The lift stopped after a brief ride, and Jonathan stepped off. He resumed his stride, passing row after row of the cherry wood bookcases. There were hundreds of rows and thousands of tomes and scrolls in each. As a scholar, he'd spent most of his existence here. But, even so, he knew there would always be something more to be gleaned from their pages.
Today was a day of remembrance. Of celebration. Of mourning. It was the anniversary of the end of a war that had lasted ten thousand years. With the death of one individual, a light of hope was given to many. For others, it was a bittersweet victory that left a void in their hearts. He'd come here today to revisit a passage that would return him to that fateful day. Reliving the event which granted them this peace, and once again, paying his respects to a dear friend.
"Ah, yes, yes, yes. Here we go."
The plaque on the side of the bookcase read, Row DD, Column 15. Now that he'd found the right one, he began scanning the shelves. It wasn't long before his hand landed on the tome he sought.
"Here it is." He pulled it down from the shelf. "My word. Has it truly been fifteen hundred years since I glanced through these pages?"
Looking at the cover, he chuckled. The combined magic of the Archive and the Realm had created a thin layer of dust. Giving it the feeling of something ancient and lost to time. Raising it to his lips, he blew the dust away, causing the magic to dissipate as it fell to the floor. He pulled open the cover and rifled through the pages. The section he stopped at contained the account of Rexinon the Prophet's final words.
Summoning his divine magics, he channeled a spell into the tome. The words that once filled the passages began to fade away, leaving only the blank pages, which now bled a blueish gray smoke. The soft glow of the lights against the floor diminished as the smoke spread. As the darkness grew more substantial, luminescent spheres and arcs of brilliant blues and crimson could be seen dancing about its surface like lightning.
The ground trembled beneath his feet, and the smokey haze took on a more stormlike appearance. All around him, the air started to feel heavy, and the taste of dust and sea salt filled his mouth. A gentle rain began to fall, and the room's remaining lights winked out. If not for the increasing flashes of lightning, he would've been left in total darkness. But even this was not a comfort, as those flashes cast shadows against the storm's ever swirling walls. Many of which appeared to be dark things that should never be seen in the light.
The storm's intensity grew, bringing disorienting cracks of thunder and wind whipping around him. It assaulted his senses and seemed to have an almost vengeful purpose. That meant he had to constantly focus on the spell, bracing himself against the onslaught. If he failed, it would kill him without question.
Some of the shadows began to take on a physical form with details beyond what the walls could offer them. He watched as an hourglass tumbled end over end, circling him before it returned to the storm. A moment later, a blazing fireplace and mantle emerged but produced neither light nor heat. Finally, a door engraved with the crest of the Order appeared. These images were ones he'd expected to see for this particular passage, and so came as no surprise. However, when a fourth image appeared, he was caught off guard.
Although it was normal for three images to accompany this spell, an occasional fourth spoke of prophecy. He focused intently on this final image. It showed twelve people standing in a circle; one of them was coated in blood. Two others were bound by chains. One a man, the other a woman.
He looked closer at the man and realized it was Godric. His eyes opened wide as he tried to decipher the meaning behind the image. Only a few moments passed while he speculated, but it was a few moments too many. Disaster struck, and too late, he realized his mistake. He'd lost focus, and now the storm would surely take him.
Hurricane force winds and debris tore at his clothes, quickly turning them into rags. One powerful gust slammed into his side as if he'd been struck by a car, knocking him off his feet. The storm swelled with even greater ferocity. It threatened to consume him this time, and he wondered if it would finally cost him.
Rain and hail pelted his face and body, while dust and sand stung his eyes. As he wiped away the grit, a bolt of lightning struck before him, temporarily blinding him. He got to his hands and knees, gasping for breath as the storm continued to beat him relentlessly.
Steeling himself against the pain, he rose to his feet. As fast as he could manage, he began casting mental defenses and barriers to protect his mind from the horrific assault. He bellowed in defiance of the storm, "I will not let it end this way! I refuse!" One defense after another was laid upon his person, until finally, he succeeded. The winds died to a breeze as the rain became little more than a summer misting.
He heard the sound of a quill scratching against paper over the storm's remnants, and the air behind his back grew hot as a crackling fire joined the room's ambiance. The sickly sweet smell of incense filled his nostrils, reminding him of days spent in his master's study. Another fond memory.
The storm wall vanished as the tremors subsided, making the room visible through a misty haze. The light of the fireplace cast his shadow across the now rough cut gray stone floor. Half a dozen tapestries hung around the room, and a liquor cabinet stood at the room's far corner. The main entry door remained closed to his left, and the doorway to the study's balcony lay to his right. At the room's center sat Rexinon at his desk, writing furiously on a piece of parchment.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he breathed a sigh of relief. Although he'd done this countless times, the journey into the pages of history was always filled with peril. But, blessedly, the most intense part of the spell was complete. And while he could now relax in that fact, that fourth image still concerned him.
He stood in the familiar square room, clothing restored to its original state. The evening's air flowed through the open windows, making the ambient temperature quite cozy. Crossing the room, he paused at the desk and listened as Rexinon started muttering. "What I wouldn't give for a typewriter, much less a computer. Would make this so much faster."
Jonathan couldn't help but crack a smile. "Oh, but how many times have I thought the same thing, old friend?" He remarked, though he knew Rexinon couldn't hear him.
He stepped up to the desk and leaned over it. Looking down at the paper Rexinon was writing on, he frowned. Like so many times before, it appeared as little more than black scribbles on a page. Those words had to be important, but there was no way to know.
This was one of the spell's critical weaknesses. The details within the vision were only as precise as what was written in the tome. Most of the books in the Archive were magically transcribed. The benefits of this were completed histories free of victor and writer biases. Although, it wasn't flawless.
Throughout history, there have been individuals or events that the spell couldn't see. The most well known examples of these blips in time were the United States presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt from 1933 to 1945 and the United Kingdom's Prime Minister, Michael Durham, from 2063 to 2065. All that is known about them was their lives before office and the accounts written by those around them. These gaps in history were generally the result of one of two things. In these two cases, a place or individual with a strong connection to the Dominion of Shadows.
Sighing, he pushed off the desk and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet. He opened the glass doors, pulling several bottles and a glass from the shelves. He made a drink consisting of three parts Red Adders Bite and one part Dry Amorian Blood Wine, then added a lime wedge to the rim of the glass. The others wouldn't arrive for another half hour, leaving him time to kill.
He walked around the room with his drink in hand and studied the various tapestries, several of which he'd been a part of. Each one depicted an accomplishment or tragedy facilitated by the Order. All save one, which showed a scene from the event that started it all.
The one to the left of the cabinet showed the Order's founding. In the background stood a grand tower of black and white marble. Its four sides were engraved with the Mark of Hellyrr, which glowed with a magical light. In front of it stood a man facing a gathered crowd, his arms swept wide in triumph. They looked up at him and the structure with reverence and awe.
He continued to move in a counterclockwise manner around the room. Above the main entry door hung another tapestry. One he was even depicted in. It showed the aftermath of a massacre. Six figures stood amidst the bodies of hundreds. The earth around them was scorched by flame, and the blood of the fallen had stained it red. The cloud covered sky glowed a deep crimson with gold outlines from the fires below. It had come to be known as the Cleansing of Elysian, in which the entirety of the planet's second continent had been annihilated to preserve the world.
"I wish it had never come to this. Why can't we all just get along? Instead of thriving in the prosperity of our two lands, they plotted and began planning to bring war to our own people. To rape, pillage, and enslave them. Even with all my vast knowledge and wisdom, I can't understand why they felt the need to dominate and control the world." He looked back up at the tapestry. "Even now, most of the land is still uninhabitable."
He turned around and looked at the tapestry above the balcony door. This one would appear out of place with the others to all but a few handfuls of people. Even for those who learned the truth behind it, it looked like little more than an artist's vision of what a beautiful landscape at sunset should look like. The sky is dotted with hundreds of stars as shades of red, orange, and yellow dance across the land's horizon. The artist's point of view appears to be looking down from a hillside. Down the hill's slope, you can see a pond teaming with wildlife along its edge. The remaining landscape is filled with miles of forest stretching toward the horizon.
For the few who survived this event and still remained, they knew it depicted the final moments of their world before all of humanity was nearly lost.
Jonathan fixated on this tapestry more than he had on the others. The longer he stared, the more distant his expression grew. Over time, his breathing quickened, and his grip on the glass slipped. It shattered as it hit the floor, causing the rug to stain from the liquid. The sound jerked him out of the trance like state, making him feel ill.
He could still recall the memory of that long ago day like it were yesterday. The thought of how close humanity had come to extinction made his legs weak, and he stumbled back against the wall behind him. He slid down the stones' cool surface and noticed his hands were now trembling. Through shuddering breaths, he uttered the words of a broken man. "So much death. So many lives were lost that day. So many. Oh, Sonia. Even after all this time, I still miss you."
The main entry door slammed open, crashing against the wall with a loud bang. Jonathan jerked as one of them collided mere inches from where he sat. The startling sound had been enough to pull him from his stupor, but it still took a moment for him to gather himself. A man in the doorway lowered his foot from where he'd obviously kicked the unlocked door in.
"Knock, knock, Rex. Seems you've done it now."
"Seth. I'll never understand the animosity you held for Rexinon," Jonathan said wearily as he got to his feet.
Seth stood just shy of five foot eight inches and had slick black hair that he kept combed back. He wore black jeans and a beige dress shirt with mother of pearl buttons, which had seen far too much polish in recent days. A malevolent grin displayed his perfect teeth and careless eyes. He strode into the room, dragging a chair behind him, and placed it on the rug by the fireplace.
"Was kicking the door in really necessary, Seth?"
A second man stepped into the room, obviously annoyed by the unnecessary use of force. He wore a navy blue business suit and towered over everyone else in the room, and that was saying something considering Jonathan was six foot. As he still held to the standards of a marine, he kept his hair high and tight and his face clean shaven. He stood at the rug's edge out of respect for the Order so as not to mar the embroidered Mark of Hellyrr. A respect Seth clearly lacked.
"Godric Gibbs. This day changed you. Hell, it changed all of us, but few as much as you," Jonathan said. He looked back at the door as the third and final man entered. "Assassin."
This man was of a height with Jonathan and wore all black from head to toe. His outfit looked like something out of a TV show. Almost like a cross between Gi Joe's Snake Eyes, and CW Arrow's League of Assassins. After ten thousand years, all they knew about him was his previous occupation as a contract killer. It wasn't long before they'd taken to calling him Assassin, as they had no other name to go by. Any time he was asked a question regarding his past, he either remained silent or dodged it outright. He took a position to Godric's left and, like Godric, took care of where he stood on the rug.
The three men stood in silence and watched as Rexinon continued to write. Godric and Assassin seemed content to wait until he addressed them. On the other hand, Seth seemed to grow more agitated as the minutes passed. Jonathan chuckled in spite of himself.
About twenty minutes later, Rexinon spoke, "Reverend Seth Jones, Colonel Godric Gibbs, and Assassin. To what do I owe the pleasure?" His tone plainly indicated that he already knew.
Seth spoke first. "Oh, cut the crap, Rex. You already know why we're here. This cult thing of yours has gone on long enough."
"Well, there's the pot calling the kettle black," Jonathan muttered sarcastically.
Godric rolled his eyes. Everyone in the room knew about Seth's past as a cult leader. They also knew his anger was more at being forced to wait in silence than anything to do with Rexinon or the Order.
"Calm yourself, Seth. There's no need for such hostilities." Godric looked at Rexinon apologetically. "I'm sorry to have to do this, old friend, but my hands are tied. Rexinon the Prophet, Headmaster of the Hellyrrian Order, you've been charged with conspiracy to overthrow the governments of Aurelia and seize control for the Order.
"As we speak, the leaders of the Hellyrrian Order are being gathered for execution. Furthermore, your towers and all their artifacts will be destroyed, and any remnants of the Order's existence is to be wiped from the face of history. As of 0813 this morning, you have been sentenced to death. How do you plead?"
Rexinon continued to write at an incredible rate. He knew why they'd come. He'd known this was coming for months. After all, his gift was the gift of prophecy. The evidence for the charges against him was both substantial and ethereal, depending on what light was shown on it.
Two centuries ago, the Order had tracked the activities of an unknown number of individuals who'd been subtly manipulating several of the Aurelian governing bodies. They'd spread like a poison, corrupting them and turning once prosperous kingdoms which knew few hardships, into lands where the people had to fight just to survive. The problem was that whoever that force had been, always seemed to be just one step ahead of them. Now, not only was it check, but checkmate. The Order had lost.
"I believe the Righteous Twelve to be ill advised. I believe you've been manipulated by the same corrupted governing body which we've spent so long trying to purify—." Seth grunted. "—But," he said at length, "I accept all charges against me, save one. Neither myself nor anyone else of the Order has ever sought to rule Aurelia, as the charges would imply. The Cleansing of Elysian should've been proof enough to show that to be true."
Rexinon penned the final words of his letter and placed the pen back in its stand. Pulling the top off a jar, he dusted the page with a thin layer of sand to soak up any excess ink. After dumping the sand back into another jar to be cleaned, he pushed away from his desk and stood to look at his guests for the first time. After nudging his stool back under, he addressed Godric directly.
"Will you join me on the balcony one last time?"
Godric nodded his head and gestured towards the balcony doorway. As they stepped outside, Jonathan followed.
Rexinon leaned against the railing and looked out over the city, his gaze fixed on the setting sun. Godric joined him and looked down to the tower's base, some five hundred feet below. Although he was not afraid of heights, it gave him respect for the sturdily mounted railing at the balcony's edge.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Rexinon said. Godric looked at him, confused. "The way the world has turned out since that day? Ten thousand years of watching as civilization was rebuilt and destroyed time and time again by a senseless war. Watching them evolve into something more as they learned how to use these gifts we were given. In some ways, we're greater than we ever were. In other ways, we're inferior. If I have any regrets, it's that I couldn't do more to leave the people better prepared for this new age."
"Well spoken. If it's any consolation, I believe this is wrong. I even spoke out against the council for a different outcome. For my efforts, though, I was threatened with execution if I didn't cease my objections."
Rexinon's tone grew heated after hearing of the council's reaction. "You should know better than anyone why I fought so hard against them, then. I'm not against governance. I'm against corrupt governance. We had far too many corrupt politicians and warlords in our own time for me to ever want to allow it again."
Godric nodded his head. "Yes. The problem is you played too heavy a hand too quickly. Instead of accepting that they'd been beaten, they cheated by playing with an ace they had hidden up their collective sleeves."
Rexinon sighed, knowing his words were true. "Indeed. I've accepted my fate. I won't run. Won't even make it difficult for y'all. I have no need to. I would like to make one final request to ease your conscience, though."
Rexinon leaned toward Godric conspiratorially. As he did this, the world around them began to shimmer and distort. Almost like the motion blurring you'd see on a TV. Likewise, their conversation was masked by the sound of white noise and the sound of hushed incoherent whispers.
This was the second hurdle the scrying spells had to deal with. Individuals with divine magic could conceal their conversations or even the events they were a part of. Rexinon had concealed this conversation, and to this day, Godric has never spoken of what was said.
Jonathan returned to the study with a resigned sigh. There was nothing more he could learn from their conversation. Assassin stood in the same spot he'd been when he first entered the room and looked as if he hadn't so much as twitched. Seth, however, was rummaging through the desk's drawers. He'd tried to figure out what he was looking for in the past, but nothing seemed obvious.
The shards of glass from when he'd dropped his cup earlier had vanished, along with the stain on the rug from the liquor. As expected, the glass had returned to the cabinet, and the bottles had refilled to where they were before he'd arrived. This was yet another reminder that this was a magically induced vision of an event that had long since passed. It could be too easy to forget that this wasn't real and that if he spent too much time here, it would have consequences in the real world for him.
He knew they'd be out there a while. In previous visits, he'd occasionally spent this time combing through the room, similar to what Seth was doing. Having cataloged everything centuries ago, there was nothing left to do but wait. So, he walked around the desk and sat squarely within the Mark of Hellyrr embroidered on the rug. There, for the next hour or so, he would remain, arms folded, legs crossed, and eyes shut. Freeing his mind of all unnecessary thoughts and emotions. At least, that was the plan.
About forty minutes in, Seth started to grumble and complain, forcing Jonathan to give up on his meditation. "… I know he's one of the humblest among our kind, but lord, does he have to be so dull? I can't find anything interesting anywhere. Even his liquor cabinet is dull." Seth walked from behind the desk to the liquor cabinet, pulled a few bottles out at random, and read the labels aloud. "Red Adders Bite, Amorian Blood Wine. Christ, he's even got Athester's Sweet Malt. This crap might as well be water." He pulled another bottle down and said, "At least he's got the taste to have at least one bottle of Nordic Berserker."
"Some of us prefer the simpler things in life. You might find life more enjoyable when you aren't always looking for the rare and exotic," Assassin said with a disinterested, almost dismissive tone.
Seth clicked his tongue. "Hell, even this letter he was so focused on when we arrived makes no sense." Seth thrust the letter towards Assassin, who took it nonchalantly. "Look at this."
Jonathan studied Assassin intently, hoping for any sign that would reveal the letter's contents. It was no use, though; for all the emotion he showed, Jonathan would've thought it no more important than a grocery list. But, if that were the case, why obscure it from the eyes of the scrying spell? The frustration caused by such a simple sheet of paper was baffling.
Jonathan got to his feet as Rexinon and Godric returned. As Rexinon walked to stand at the center of the rug, Jonathan moved behind the desk. Godric walked toward Assassin and conversed with him for a few minutes. Once again, the sound of white noise shrouded what was said. This time, it was Godric who masked his words from the spell. When Assassin nodded, Godric moved beside him and faced Rexinon.
Rexinon looked at each tapestry and seemed to relive each as he did so. They all knew those accomplishments and tragedies would stand the test of time. Any efforts to change that would fall flat. The Order had played too significant a role in shaping this new world. Finally, he turned to Godric, kneeling as he met his regret filled eyes.
Assassin pulled an infamous rod from his side, dubbed the Executioner's Handle. Forged in the Dominion of Shadow by Assassin some three thousand years ago. It was one and a half feet long of shadow infused steel and bound with his own divine essence. Ominous black tendrils crawled along Assassin's hand like something alive and flowed into the handle. The shaft elongated, and an axe head formed at its end.
Though he had accepted his fate, seeing that axe form made Rexinon's heart stop momentarily. He looked at Godric questioningly. Godric knew what that look meant and nodded his head in assent. Agreeing to this had allowed them both to right several wrongs this night by asking one simple question. "Do you have any final words or requests?"
"I have two, if you'll grant them. The first, allow me to disband the Order formally as my final act as headmaster."
Seth started to protest, but Assassin lowered the axehead in his direction as a silent threat. Seth glared at Assassin with seething hatred. Godric nodded to Rexinon. "Proceed."
As the headmaster of the Hellyrrian Order, he had a mental connection with every member. Without hesitation, Rexinon's eyes began to glow with a brilliant purple hue. This would be Rexinon's final order, and Godric knew it would save thousands.
"My brothers and sisters, hear me now and heed my words. Abandon the Order and save yourselves. Flee to the hills and never look back to what we once were. With my dying breath, the Hellyrrian Order is no more. The governments of Aurelia have played a hand we can't stand against. Anyone who disregards this command will be hunted down and executed without mercy. To the leaders and guild masters of the Order, I charge you with dismantling everything relating to the Order and turning over every artifact and document you can to Godric the Just, Jonathan the Wise, or Assassin the Watcher. I also ask that you help calm those who feel outraged and betrayed by this night. Do not blame the Twelve, as they were little more than pawns in this corrupt game of politics. Farewell, my friends. My family. May the peace we have fought for be found in the coming days."
The glow faded, and he slumped forward onto his hands, his breathing labored. A few moments passed, and he managed to catch his breath but still looked towards the ground.
"The second request I have is that anyone who would heed that warning be spared. The ruling factions wanted me. As long as no one else causes trouble, we know they won't cause too much fuss over it."
His voice took on a much sharper edge as he looked back up. "You call us a cult, though you know we are nothing of the sort. On the contrary, our Order has stood for nearly five thousand years for the betterment of the entire world. How they treated you should tell you that what I said and what we were doing was justified."
"Shut your mouth, Rex!" Seth spat venomously.
Godric glared at Seth. His own anger with this situation was at the point of breaking free. "Be silent! I don't know what kind of grudge you have, but I, for one, don't give a damn what the council said. Rexinon doesn't deserve death for the crimes he's being accused of. Unfortunately, the ruling factions in almost every nation are corrupted and working towards being as corrupt as they were back in our day." Godric sighed. "Regrettably, my hands are tied, though. The law is the law, and I have been overruled on this matter. Regardless of what my conscience thinks, I will abide by the rules of the land."
Rexinon nodded, understanding Godric's situation perfectly. Godric had become the divine embodiment of law and justice at his ascension. While those two things work hand in hand, they are far from the same, and one must often walk a fine line to serve them both. In this case, the choices were clear. In the end, it didn't matter what he chose; he would inevitably betray one virtue or the other. Unfortunately, there was no good way for him to handle this, and Rexinon could see how this was affecting him.
"The majority of the Order will heed my warning. As for the leaders, if any are still alive, they will follow that command to the letter. They'll even aid you in handling any hotheads who resist," Rexinon said.
"The good news is that no one has yet been executed this evening. I'll personally see to it that those who abide by that order are given a chance to live long, productive lives within society. If all goes well, you will be the only casualty of this idiocy."
Rexinon gave the faintest sign of a smile with a halfhearted chuckle as he said, "Godric, one thing I'll not allow is any of the Order's work ending up in the hands of one of those tyrants. Therefore, I demand that Jonathan be given every document, scroll, and tome held within our strongholds for safekeeping." Rexinon felt exhausted. The spell to warn his Order took more out of him than anticipated.
"You're in no position to be making demands of us," Seth said. Godric finally snapped and struck him so hard that he slammed back into the wall beside the fireplace, cracking it. He got back to his feet a moment later, fixed his shirt, and looked down at the blood he'd wiped from his lip. Godric looked back at Rexinon.
"As you were saying."
"Assassin, I'd ask that you secure all our relics and artifacts, regardless of their magical significance. I don't need to tell you what all we have housed around Aurelia."
"No, you don't. The nukes of our time were nothing compared to some of those items," Assassin replied.
"We'll see to it that it's done. There are things within these walls that were never meant for untrained mortal hands," Godric added.
"Thank you."
"As for the texts, Jonathan will have a field day going through everything. There is far too much the council doesn't understand within these walls that we can't afford to lose."
"Godric was right, Rex. I still have everything. Much of which has been quite useful over the centuries,"
Godric turned his head away, no longer able to look Rexinon in the eye. "I no longer deserve the right to call you a friend, but is there anything else you would ask of me?"
Rexinon looked at Godric for a long time and couldn't help but smile. Not at his pain or suffering in following the orders given to him, but knowing that if anyone here had ever been a friend to him, Godric certainly was. With his final words, he left Godric with a warning.
"No, but I'll leave you with this. Be wary of those among you, for one will betray you all. My friend."
Godric nodded, accepting these as Rexinon's final words as a tear ran down his cheek. Rexinon lowered his head, and Assassin enveloped his axe's blade in a purple aura.
"Woah, Assassin, what's with the new color? Never seen that before," Seth asked.
Ignoring the question, Assassin swung the axe, severing Rexinon's head cleanly.
That night, the cries of the Order were heard in every city across Aurelia. All mourning the death of the Order's first, and last, headmaster.
Jonathan fought back tears of his own as he watched the axe's head vanish. Assassin secured the handle on his belt as he walked towards the desk. Godric looked as though he was going to be sick.
"Did you do as I asked?" Godric asked shakily.
"Of course. I may be a trained killer, but even I know this was bullshit, mate."
Seth walked over and picked up Rexinon's severed head by the hair. He held it up before him, a mischievous grin on his face. Then he whispered something into Rexinon's ear.
Assassin's eyes locked on Seth. As he let go of the head, he used one of his abilities, known as shadow step, to cross the distance to where Seth stood. Before Rexinon's head hit the ground, Assassin snatched it out of the air and punched Seth so hard that it sent him flying into the same section of the wall he'd hit earlier. He bounced off it, but the force of the impact sent several of the stones flying into the next room. Seth crumpled to the floor, where he lay unmoving for several seconds. After a while, his head snapped upright, and he began to laugh. He stood up as if nothing had happened and headed out the door. Godric, now seething with anger, watched as Assassin started to go after him. "Leave him. He's not worth your time."
Jonathan paced around the room, waiting for the spell to wear off. His heart ached, and his own anger toward Seth at that moment made him wish he could destroy the man. But that was Seth's way, and they'd all learned to let it go in time. The world began to blur and vanish, reverting to the Archive once again.
He closed the cover, placing the tome back on the shelf with a heavy sigh. His fingers lingered on the binding as he read the inscription, A Complete History of the Hellyrrian Order, Volume 666. Finally, Jonathan let his hand fall to the side as he walked away with his shoulders slumped.
As if speaking to an old friend, he lamented, "Damn you, Rex. Why couldn't you have just left well enough alone?"
As Jonathan walked away, he shed a tear at the loss of one of his closest friends.

And amidst the gathering of brave warriors, there stood a gallant figure, a warrior whose valor and confidence were unmatched. With a resolute gaze, he stepped forward and proclaimed, "Let me solo her, for I am forged in the fires of battle, and my spirit knows no bounds."
His name echoed through the lands, whispered in awe by friend and foe alike. The tales of his exploits had spread far and wide, for he had vanquished countless adversaries and emerged victorious from the most treacherous of trials.
Clad in armor adorned with the scars of past triumphs, his sword gleaming with the light of unwavering determination, he exuded an aura of indomitable strength. The very air crackled with anticipation as all eyes turned to behold this formidable warrior.
And the scriptures spoke of him, for it is said, "In the darkest hour, when shadows dance upon the battlefield, a solitary champion shall arise, marked by the hand of destiny. His name shall be whispered in reverence, his prowess unmatched."
With unwavering resolve and an unshakeable faith in his abilities, he declared, "Let me solo her, for I shall face Melania alone, and my name shall be etched in the annals of history as the one who conquered the unconquerable."
His words hung in the air, mingling with the hushed whispers of onlookers, their hopes and fears intertwined. For in this moment, the destiny of the warrior and the fate of Melania converged, and the stage was set for a battle of epic proportions.
In the presence of the gathered warriors, the scriptures resonated anew, guiding their hearts and emboldening their spirits. The verses whispered, "With a heart full of valor and a spirit unwavering, thou shalt strike with the might of a thousand thunders."
With a nod of approval and awe, the other warriors stepped aside, granting him the honor he so boldly claimed. And thus, the solitary warrior set forth, his heart aflame with a burning determination, to face Melania and carve his name into the legends of Elden Ring.
May the divine light shine upon his path, guiding his every strike and shielding him from the darkness that sought to consume him. And may the tale of this mighty warrior's battle against Melania be etched in the annals of time, a testament to courage, skill, and unwavering resolve.
And so, the solitary warrior ventured forth, his steps filled with purpose, his heart resolute. Melania, the formidable foe, awaited him in the heart of the forsaken fortress, surrounded by an aura of malevolence that sent shivers down the spines of all who approached.
As the warrior crossed the threshold into the lair of darkness, the air grew heavy with anticipation. The clash of steel and the crackling of arcane energies filled the chamber, a symphony of battle that echoed through the ages.
Melania, a vision of ethereal beauty veiled in shadows, unleashed her wicked sorceries upon the valiant warrior. Dark tendrils coiled around him, threatening to ensnare his very soul, but he deftly dodged and parried, his movements a testament to his honed skills.
With every strike, the warrior pressed forward, his blade cleaving through the darkness with righteous fury. Melania retaliated with cunning, her illusions twisting reality and testing the limits of the warrior's resolve. But he remained steadfast, his spirit unyielding.
The clash between them intensified, a dance of blades and a clash of wills. The warrior's faith in the divine and his unwavering determination served as his shield, deflecting Melania's onslaught of maleficent powers.
In a decisive moment, when Melania's guard faltered, the warrior seized the opportunity. With a resounding cry, he unleashed a devastating blow, his sword finding its mark, piercing through the veil of darkness and striking true.
As Melania staggered, her powers waning, the warrior summoned his remaining strength, pouring it into a final, decisive assault. With a mighty swing, he delivered the finishing blow, banishing Melania's wicked essence from the realm, restoring peace to the land of Elden Ring.
The chamber fell silent, save for the warrior's labored breaths and the victorious pounding of his heart. The battle was won, and the once-daunting Melania lay defeated before him, a testament to his unwavering resolve and unyielding courage.
With a weary yet triumphant smile, the warrior knew that his name would forever be etched in the annals of Elden Ring. He had faced the unconquerable, stood alone against the forces of darkness, and emerged as a true hero.
And thus, the tale of the solitary warrior who had proclaimed, "Let me solo her," resonated throughout the land, inspiring generations to come. His victory over Melania became a symbol of bravery and the indomitable human spirit, a testament to the power of unwavering faith and the triumph of righteousness.
May his name be forever celebrated, his valor sung in ballads and passed down through the ages, a reminder that in the face of the greatest challenges, there are those who rise, undaunted, to claim victory and bring forth a new dawn of hope.

An actor everybody is pretty much somewhat familiar with, Rowan Atkinson that plays Mr Bean recently made an about 10 minute press release speech and statement. It was directly concerning the freedom of the people of the United Kingdom to merely express themselves, to perform the very human act of communicating and sharing. https://youtu.be/xUezfuy8Qpc
The fact that the U.K is unfortunately by law a tyrannical state that dishes out criminal punishment to anyone who says anything anyone finds offensive, no literally they actually have laws that get you arrested for posting normal song lyrics and other mundane normal usage posts. It's from a recent yet slightly older law from 25 years ago, and it enables anyone to be charged with hate speech for saying or since the advent of social media posting anything anyone ever finds offensive.
I wish it were otherwise but unfortunately these authoritarian tyrannical laws are also present... in Australia and you have probably forgotten but they were on full display in Australia in 2019... when the Pharmaceutical companies became the wealthiest and most profitable companies on Earth... the same companies that sponsor Political Parties,... and Television advertisements,... Social Media companies (like the one your on now) and literally run the tests and produce all medical scientific papers (studies, theories, hospitals, physicians on payroll, fund entire hospitals and livelihoods... etc. etc.) The best example I can remember of the absolute tyranny Australia was under is a case whereby a pregnant women in Victoria was arrested for writing on a Facebook post that she was against lockdowns and supported the protests against them... the Police came and arrested her... for 'Hate Speech'... it luckily enough got picked up media companies (TV stories and articles). Luckily. So the police, after dragging this pregnant woman kicking and screaming out of her apartment (not exactly literally) let her go without charge. She was lucky. Very very lucky. And there is no way she should have had to have been 'lucky' for merely making a post on Facebook.
America simply does not have this problem as written into the very constitution as the 1st Amendment to their constitution by the founding fathers in all of their wisdom, intelligence, good faith and if your religious like they where, filled with divine enlightenment wrote it such that the Government in America has no ability to write any law to restrict people's rights to express themselves (Freedom of Speech), restrict the press (because back then they lacked smart phones, social media and all modern technology, which should be obvious but perhaps it is not and is difficult for people today to even begin to imagine life back then despite it being very loosely similar to today's world) and finallu restrict people's religious freedoms (written in reverse order to this because they were all wise God loving, humble, noble and brave men.
America's 1st Amendment is the only Freedom of Speech law written into its very constitution in the entire world, it is the reason that America is referred to as 'Land of the Free' and the second part of that phrase, 'Home of the Brave.'. As for protests, peaceful assembly had always been constitutionally protected, not violent assembly so riots and revolution is still very much illegal and is met with lethal counter force every time. [As a side note, if peaceful assembly fails to prevent America becoming a Tryrannical State, then the 2nd Amendment is the fail-safe. As the wisdom of the founding fathers literally argued and intendeded]
Australia does not have that phrase and frankly I feel that every Australian that knows that, feels a deep unspoken, subconscious shame over that fact and far more importantly that all Australians simply do not have the constitutional right to even speak their minds freely, as every human being alive desires.
As Rowan Atkinson stated 'Hate Speech' is not real. It is a term used to silence, censor and remove power from whomever those in power disagree and dislike or are offended by. There are seemingly endless examples from history of the evil deeds of enactment of those disliked by existing powers for example, Galileo (ostracised and persecuted by the church and all religious folk for merely stating he believed that the sun was the center of the Galaxy and not the Earth), Nikola Tesla (defamed by the work of Tomas Edison and countless people trying to claim his inventions as their own by way of patent theft and lies for the purpose of advertising like don't by an American organisation NPR over the discovery of radio), (Jesus Christ himself by his crucifixion by my Ancestors, the Romans) and as the last example, the NAZI's by locking up any intellectuals that disagreed or dared critisize any of their doctrine and propoganda, their torture of anyone condemned for death by way of countless sadistic and grotesque torture methods, and some though quite few, for scientific discovery purposes, their burning of the books followed in time by bodies, and lastly their brutal slaughter of the Jews, no evidence of wrongs but only stirring words and speeches from their beloved demagogue, Adolf Hitler and gigantic amounts of absolute propoganda distributed to the masses, orchestrated by NAZI Propoganda Chief Joseph Goebbels and his team. (Which every highschool student should have, though potentially didn't, have already learned from Highschool History class, at least in every Public School, Private Schools may be permitted a different curriculum.) Offensive caused by speech has only 1 solution. More Free speech, Rowan Atkinson a famous actor that has probably more wealth than this entire subreddit conveyed this message, and it would seem as an absolute truth as far as I can tell.
I have written this in hopes of sparking and pasing wisdom and knowledge into whoever needs to have read this. And hopefully you will pass this type of message on yourself from now on. Australia needs the Right of Freedom of Speech written into its very constitution. As demonstrated during COVID19 it needed it years ago but now even more than ever.
And to those that would say it will do nothing but allow mass disinformation, manipulation and mislead people, I would say this, history has proven you absolutely dead wrong on that statement and sentiment, the only solution to offense from speech is more Free Speech and if you silence, censor or try more modern trends of the same kind known as deplatforming or cancelling, then all you do, all you achieve, everything you are trying to stop will only be made stronger, more resilient and more popular then ever before. As examples, take Jesus Christ, he has the Roman equivalent of being hung drawn and quartered, he was crucified, publicly executed like a lamb to the slaughter to send a message of absolute obedience being required to the rest of the herd. Yet because of that Christianity exploded and has been far more viral than COVID19 or any viral video has ever been to date. And for modern times look at Tucker Carlson, deplatformed by pressure from Pharmaceutical companies, lawsuits from shitty voting machine companies and pathologically idealogically fanatic ex employees in lawsuits. Tucker Carlsons show on Fox was the most popular show on Fox News and it drew in about 2 million people every night to watch it... after he was fired... is now getting 35+ million on the regular after he started up on Twitter. I do so imagine that actuall that will be an understatement in the coming future as currently he's on his 2nd episode ever. The 'Streisand Effect' in full unbridled, unstoppable force.
Every Australian deserves the right to express themselves freely, meaning free of all Government persecution and all possible Government and legal persecution. This is and has always been a left wing idea, as the rule of Tyrants; Dictators, kings Pharaohs, Caesar's, Shoguns, Kahns, Lords, Nobles Knights and Emperors have always, always been majority perpetuated by people with conservative temperaments, whereas free thinkers, creative and imaginative people are the minority of people perpetuating the rule of Tyrants.
We here in Australia critisize China for authoritarianism and tyranny when there is weakness in our own ranks. 'Those in glass houses should not throw stones' - some famous person', 'never lay cannonfire on your enemy with a glass cannon' -me. Western countries, especially our home Australians true colours, true laws and beliefs of of people were broadcaster for the world to see during covid. And they paint a very dark authoritarian picture of our nation to the world, something China is more than smart enough to take advantage of... and much to our chagrin they are and have been since Covid ended for us. Chinese propoganda, their Television Channels, all Chinese State OWNED... all of them constantly bring up how Australia, England and America all were even worse if not just as bad as China was during Covid19, and as the best and most convincing propoganda always is... its harrowingly mostly true. (Only, partly mostly thankfully) but domestic Chinese TV isn't the most important propoganda outlet taking the easy win by using our sins in their propoganda... no, that would be the Confucius Institute in Australian Universities. China's unelected ruling communist party (communist in name only these days, just a full bull authoritarian tyranny is their ideology nowadays) main propoganda outlet in Australia is a Chinese University group called the Confucius Institute (I could be wrong about the name and I've spent too long writing this to be bothered to look it up). They target young, impressionable Chinese men and women when they are studying abroad in Australia's universities, our most popular young adult Chinese attraction, I dare say, maybe even 'Global young adult Asian attraction' as I once met a man from Tibet who said exactly that in a course I had to take for my construction job (white card). The Confucius Institute goal is promote CCP propoganda via demonising the way Australia and all Western countries are so that as few young people ever believe in the ideals of Democracy and want to return to China, such that the CCP can perpetuate its tyrannical rule over China forever. Idealogically brainwash 'loose ends' - Mafia Terminology if you understand. They thanks to what happened to Australia under the Lib/Nats Coalition 2019 to late 2022 they distribute and spread half truths about Australia and countless other lies about every part and aspect of life in Australia as well as pay members of their organisation to organise pro China protests, (sign holders and chanters) in Australian Universities, footage of this circulated sparsely in Australian media and articles during 2014-2018 roughly though probably a bit before too. They actively seek out and target specifically ethnically Chinese and often try to emotionally blackmail them, incite fear into them, speak exclusively their propoganda to then and rarely but almost certainly literally blackmail them using the threat of violence, torture and death of their families back in China. Naturally there's no direct evidence of that claim except for Chinese Father and Husband in England that was blackmailed (husband of high ranking shipping Port official wife) they abducted his wife and child and forced the wife read a script to the husband over the phone (utilised emotional and physical blackmail and just directly veiled and unveiled threats, I recommend you look up interviews from the husband) and if you look up the articles of the Confucius Institute from IDK 2011-2018 and have the ability to interpret from what the articles found you can tell the Confucius Institute, only has 1 purpose, to try and perpetuate the CCP's rule of China and stop and protest against their rule, specifically stopping Tiananmen Square type protests from ever happening again. The Tianamen Square Massacre was a global well known proverbial black eye to China that severely hampered every nation's diplomatic relations with China for close to half a century, and the CCP didn't like that as even Tyrants love swimming in money, also the CCP loves stealing technology through trade espionage, China's MAG Lev trains and their entire car industry is built off stolen technology from Western companies dumb enough to deal with companies owned by the CCP. Naturally the Chinese who have been or are being 'convinced' by the Confucius Institute are always the biggest promoters of Anti Freedom ideas, especially the death of Freedom of Speech via hate speech crime laws such as: incitement of violence laws (Victoria mainly), offensive Tweets, Facebook Posts, Instagram Posts,,, Goddamn Reddit posts all hopefully being made illegal and the Liberals God awful rich persons almost exclusive digital world referee, The new E-Safety Commisioner. And like all the God awful Tyrant Commissioner's from TV shows and books if the E-Safety commisoner ever... EVER gets in the hands of the Liberals again it will be used against the normal people of Australia to beat the collective will of normal free thinking Australian's to the ground if not to death. Only complete dumbass Liberal Supporters usually dumb beer drinking sky news watchers (usually fossils) and Young Adult Chinese University Students support ANY of the laws and speech referees I just mentioned.
Again please war h the video I linked at the tiop and if the Politcal State of the U.K interests you for whatever reason then I recommend: Count Dankular (his second channel) the first person in Scottish History tried and found guilty of 'Hate Speech'... from a freakin comedy video. Where he's mocking the very thing they charged him for supporting [funny pug salute video as a direct hint]), Jonathan Pie (excellent wit, fantastic satirist and insult wordsmith wizard, also very yelly, I like him) and lastly Jordan Shanks himself, the namesake of this subreddit, FriendlyJordies. Whenever he actually gets round to covering the U.K his analysis is excellent.
Also a guy from YouTube channel Sargon of Akkad though... fair warning, his videos are really boring but he is quite very articulate.
All Australians deserve the Right of Freedom of Speech. And unfortunately, on Reddit in particular I see far too many Tyrannical Speech Law sympathisers which I personally find truly disgusting and as much as I hate the authoritarian ideas you spout, I will defend your right to say and spread them. If your a real FriendlyJordies fan or agree with his ideas and rhetoric than I already know you support all Australians Right of 'Free Speech'.

Hey guys, So I'm out of town this weekend staying in Niagara Falls and we go to get dinner this weekend and my right blinker does that really quick blinking noise. Get out of the car and sure enough, the bulb is out! So, I'm not anywhere near the regular place I go to for parts (I usually just ask the guy at the counter) and don't want to buy the wrong one at Canadian Tire. Could anyone tell me what bulb a 2011 Chevy Equinox takes for the back right turn signal?

if NVDA closes above 397, then it's bullish trend is intact.
But it would simply be window dressing imo.
Today's close will mark 7 weeks of a narrow band tech rally whereby many tech stocks with declining revenues and declining profits have doubled in 7 weeks.
If you think that is a recipe for the next bull market, you lack an understanding of market dynamics.
We have a lot of discussions taking place right now about the overall direction of the broader mkt in general .
We also have a weakened consumer unlike anything we have experienced since 2008 through 2011
loan delinquencies rising. people changing shopping habits as a remedy to offset some of the inflation .
i could go on and on .
I have made a bearish case with reasoning.
Caveat emptor.

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Disney movie Google Splits, WILL port to Movies Anywhere and other connected services.
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So, this is me talking about my real experience that happened to me.
I was playing a level 9 druid, on the standard II difficulty, a casual werebear build.
Found the steps to the Forbidden City. Had a lot of fun the first level. Was having to go through health pots pretty fast, but it was a very engaged fun level of difficulty, having to do a lot of dashing and positioning to survive.
Went down to the second level, got a quest to clear it out, and the butcher showed up and two shot me...
"That's odd" I thought, I don't feel like I did anything wrong, I don't see how I can possibly clear out the level, but I sucked it up, revived, ready to try it again, and he just wasn't there anymore. Cleared the level, much easier.
By this time i was level 10, went down the steps again, to face the Resurrected Malice and died, and died, and died.
Portaled back to town, sold, repaired, went back and died and died and died.
His AoE attack would keep hitting me in werebear form even after I dashed.
I'd dodge his "spirit balls", but then they'd always curve around and heat seek into me.
I tried and tried until I could not afford to repair anymore.
Never got him below 40%. Hard to see how a melee character with a large hitbox is supposed to survive.
Put down the controller, played a different game.
I'm posting this, because I just am not seeing any reviews that match this experience, and just wanted to tell the true story of how this game was profoundly unfun for me.
To everyone enjoying it, I am super glad that you are, and don't read this as an attempt to deny/doubt your experience, just to share mine.

I'll start with saying I am still very much enjoying the game and this isn't going to make me suddenly drop it, just wondering if others are feeling the same. I am only part way though Act III (WT2) and I am playing co-op with my partner so that might have an impact and I'm sure after the campaign once we do raise the difficultly things will ramp up and be more challenging but I really wished you could raise the difficultly prior to finishing the campaign.
You only get to experience it fresh once and in particular boss fights in the campaign are a major let down in terms of difficultly for me. Story/writing wise there are these great build ups to bosses/events, all this hype/backstory/lore gets built up over time about some some super powerful terrifying lore central enemy but then the actual fight is a walk in the park. For most of them you can just stand and man fight the bosses with minimal dodging and potion use.
I don't even care about extra loot/gold/XP I just want to actually feel challenged like I'm fighting a much more powerful foe and the fight isn't a forgone conclusion right from the start.
After the final big fight of Act II I discussed this with my partner who isn't really hardcore gamer and bar Nintendo games with the kids the last major time spent gaming was probably Diablo 3 a good few years back and they felt the same. The story, gameplay(mostly) are spot on, and the cinematics are great.
We are really invested into finishing the campaign first and are mostly only sticking to main quests, no running around exploring and only do nearby side quests or events we never go out of our way to grind gear or level up.

1. COVID-19 Pandemic: The COVID-19 pandemic dominated global headlines in 2020. The novel coronavirus, officially named SARS-CoV-2, rapidly spread across the world, leading to widespread illness, death, and economic disruption. Countries implemented lockdowns, travel restrictions, and social distancing measures to contain the virus's spread.
2. U.S. Presidential Election: The United States held its presidential election in 2020. Democrat Joe Biden challenged the incumbent President Donald Trump, ultimately winning the election and becoming the 46th President of the United States.
3. Black Lives Matter Protests: The killing of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man, by a police officer in Minneapolis, Minnesota, sparked widespread protests against police brutality and systemic racism. The Black Lives Matter movement gained momentum globally, advocating for racial justice and equality.
4. Wildfires and Natural Disasters: 2020 witnessed devastating wildfires across various parts of the world, notably in Australia, California, and the Amazon rainforest. Additionally, there were severe hurricanes, floods, and other natural disasters that impacted different regions.
5. Brexit: The United Kingdom officially left the European Union on January 31, 2020, after a prolonged process of negotiation and political uncertainty. The departure marked a significant milestone in European history and initiated a transitional period for the UK to establish new trade agreements.
6. Economic Impact: The COVID-19 pandemic had far-reaching economic consequences, leading to global recessions and financial instability. Governments worldwide implemented stimulus packages and economic measures to mitigate the impact and support affected industries and individuals.
7. Space Exploration: The year 2020 marked notable achievements in space exploration. SpaceX, in partnership with NASA, successfully launched astronauts to the International Space Station from U.S. soil for the first time since 2011. Additionally, missions to Mars, such as NASA's Perseverance rover, were launched, aiming to further explore the red planet.
8. Social Media and Technology: The year 2020 saw increased scrutiny and regulation of social media platforms. Concerns about data privacy, misinformation, and online security prompted discussions and actions to address these issue

I’ve been constantly going against players that can react to every animation perfectly and it’s killing my will to play the game. How am I meant to beat these reaction monsters who just sit still and wait for you to do something?
I’ve tried soft feints and “””unreactable””” bashes, but they can react to every single one. They light parry every single light, and perfectly dodge/gb everything else.
And also doesn’t help that they will literally never attack me ever, so I’m just staring at them until they do something. So most of the time Im forced to just leave the match. This is like 90% of my matches now, what am I supposed to do?

Hi, we're in Québec Canada. Through a class action suit in Canada, KIA (and Hyundai) were forced to replaced blown engine for some model years and my son's Kia Optima 2011 is included in that suit. His engine blew last month and the KIA dealer told him yesterday that he is covered but the car won't be ready at least until July 10th. Is the dealer supposed to lend him a car in the mean time?

Hey, needed some opinions. I’ve been looking at caymans for a while, waiting for prices to settle. I’m thinking this is as good as it it’s gonna get for the market. I found a 2011 987.2 with 72k miles for 31k. It has 3 previous owners, with minor accident on CARFAX. Service history looks good. I’m 99% percent positive I’m buying the car. But wanted some opinions if this is a decent deal. I’m prepared to keep the car for awhile, hopefully it lasts me a lifetime. Also prepared for maintenance on a 70k Porsche

Hi there. I'm currently a first year PhD student in the immunology field. I'm super happy for this experience, I feel as though I am learning something every single day (especially because I do not have a background in immunology). For people who have gone through a PhD program, or are currently in one, how did you turn your brain off when it was time to take a breath for yourself?? I feel like I go home and I just overanalyze everything I need to do or hyper fixate on what I might have done wrong...I've got 4 years left I can't maintain this mental instability for 4 years. I know there will be failures ... thats the name of the game.... and I know that I am still learning... but you know how the field is... high expectations. Especially if I am shown something I feel so confident I can do it and then when the time comes I feel like a deer in headlights... It's hard to feel like I fit in, especially with my lack of experience and my mistakes when I try to do things. I ask many questions but I feel annoying... classic learning experience I know but it sits heavy on my mind... any advice as to how you may have adjusted?? Thanks!

I got a dm asking if I’m open for commission. I responded with yes, and then they sent me what they wanted and specifications. They asked if I have PayPal and I said no and they wanted me to activate it relatively quickly because they wanted to spend their $400 on my art so quickly. (First red flag because I’ll be honest I don’t think a normal person would usually give that much but this is my first time trying to take a commission). I said to find another artist and they said they’ll wait. Then they asked me where I’m from and I dodged that question. Should I block them or flat out say no?

It might just be me but from what I remember, if character A dodge a truck and a certainly light beam in the same condition, like distance, how close it is etc, that truck would be considered light speed, but if we can pixely calculated the speed for that truck wouldn't light speed be scaled to it?
There's a page for dodging light in vsbw where one of them says if "It is shown at different speeds in the same material." then it's not a real light. Why should we assume light speed are all the same if they aren't stated?
Also, it would be really convenient if someone can tell me how you can scale light speed to higher speed, or at least how it was done. Thanks in advance.