starts recording on phone

Due to the government not providing aid for hurricane victims yabba decided that we were going to Washington DC. Her whole plan was during election night caused major atmospheric shifts to induce extreme weather, all around the White House, halting the processes and I quote “showing them what it feels like to be stranded without help”. My first thought was well if you had the power to do all this why didn’t you stop the hurricanes in the first place, but not wanting her to go on a mad tirade about how “The world should not rely on the benevolent help of a mad woman especially when there’s processes in place that are not being used when needed”  once we got there, we set up some machines. We had a Homebase set up, and of course, (her arch nemesis ) Shows up And shut down the whole operation like clockwork, He located our homebase and sending us on the run luckily while they were fighting, I got to catch up with his sidekick baron Always good to catch up with him. I guess he’s going to college now which would’ve been my choice if I wasn’t working for yabba and I told him that But I guess working with Mr. Satan is like a side job for him. He told me it pays pretty well and all they really do is show up last minute to stop whatever we had cooking so besides basic training he’s mostly free which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, but it’s still Soul crushing to think Someone gets paid more than me just to ruin my work but that’s life .try to move on with out looking more bothered by that then I was I told him if you needed any help with schoolwork to just let me know he had my number already. We'll probably be in DC for Couple more days so if he’s going to be here, we could totally get food and hang out. We made some plans. I’m looking forward so that cool i guess 

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Eden is in a dark room with headphones phone on listening to religious text he’s Simultaneously cleaning Reading building Coding and making a mess all at the same time, his eyes have a glaze over them as if he’s not all the way there. It looks like he’s golfing himself and Work to avoid thinking about the things that just happened all of a sudden he stops for A minute takes off his headphones and sits down at the desk

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I’ve Made a brand new discovery basically if you can enough energy into one spot and then vibrate very very fast while simultaneously keeping constant observation of it you can access a fourth dimension maybe a pocket dimension one of the two either or free space the only problem is everything inside space disappears It’s not being observed So I started thinking Schrodinger‘s cat is it dead? Is it alive? Who fucking knows we only find out when it’s observed observers That’s when I start to think what counts as an observer In theory, if I can create an AI that hits all of these conditions in which it can be classified as an observer, I can have A A pocket dimension And b a Assorting system for pocket dimension Anyway, I’m gonna work on this bye 

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.toatoa sitting in the background on the couch.

OK, I’m done Sulking I’m ready to start a new project for the betterment Of humanity, yabba has gone missing but I’m not focusing on that right now. I was looking around the farm and I realized we don’t really use any of this land like we should we have around 180 acres farmland on top of land for livestock cows, chickens horses goats the works with a little bit of work and some studying on botany and tending to land works. I could make a free resource printer, especially if I automated with solar panels and some basic robotics it would be minimal upkeep and maximum efficiency. At least that’s the plan. I’m not the greatest at robotics so I sent, Friend , who can help with the hardware that being said I have a sneaking suspicion, but if I do try to make a change for the good people are gonna start to come after me so I’m also going to be working on some defense systems just in case I’ve made some friends along the way so maybe they can help me understand what it takes to stay anonymous or at least Defended at all times either way, I like the feeling I get when I’m being productive, especially when I’m doing it with other So I’m gonna get back to work talk to you later bye 

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After returning from Brazil, I was going to get back to work on my solo project on the farm, but once I returned of noticed yabba is nowhere to be found. There’s normally a note or she’ll pick up her phone at least but she’s just gone I was looking forward to showing her Toatoa but like I said she’s gone without a trace minus one of the Barnes completely missing along with everything that was inside that seems like something I should investigate more but she’s a grown woman and she’ll reach out to me whenever she needs me anyway

i’m going to to build a computer to house this AI so that I have a back up for it and I’m probably gonna look into a defense system for the farm as a hole also, David had me thinking I  have all this farmland and livestock with a little optimization. I could probably turn this into a self-sufficient sanctuary that can export a ridiculous amount of food and goods So I think that’s something I’m gonna invest in i’m sure yabba will be happy to see me doing something productive outside of my Psychosis induced state 

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toatoa or TT for short Got really sad when I had to leave for that contract so I’ve decided to spectrum items To up his survivability rate on these jobs so I could feel more comfortable taking them as of now I’ve come up with a few prototypes and some concepts

Concept one : Hover Field Pretty self-explanatory I think if I give him something that’ll allow him to be able to fly he could at least get out of combat/any other dangerous situation pretty easily but I don’t think that’ll be enough

Concept two: Pyromania collar allow him to control flames with a collar maybe allow him to do combustion balls who knows this definitely give them some pun intended firepower, but I don’t really know if I want him to. I love him too much.

Concept three: Give him some really really tanky armor so that even if something does mean to scratch him, it’s more or less absorbed and he can walk out of it. I think this is one of the most necessary ideas even if I choose to go with one of the other ones this one’s probably gonna be a part of. 

Concept four: Possibly giving him some kind of detective color, allowing him to be more perceptive and do more investigation work for me then he can at least warn me when dangerous coming, and I can get them out. This is probably the softest of all the ideas. But it’s something 

Anyway, I’m gonna get back to brainstorming and making more Progress on the farm and my computer anyway bye

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Okay. Okay. Okay. Let’s recap. Because WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.

I died. Like, not some close-call, “Oh, I saw the light” nonsense. Like, full stop, ceased to exist, dead as hell, NO afterlife, gone.

I knew gambling was a bad idea, but goddamn, I didn’t think I’d be betting my entire existence on a fucking coin flip. What’s even crazier is that I lost. Statistically, I had a 50/50 chance to stay alive, and I LOST. My dumbass was so pissed about that cheating casino owner that I threw my entire being on the table to prove a point. And you know what? That’s on me. That’s fully on me.

Luckily, someone had faster hands than I did and yanked me back before I completely processed the void of nothingness I got thrown into. So now I get to sit here and wonder: Was that a real death? Or was that some weird Harbinger trick?

Because if it was real… does that mean there’s nothing after? No heaven, no hell, just off? Because that’s so much worse.

Anyway. I’m banned from Vegas now. Not for dying, no—because I counted cards and made $2 million in a day. So yeah, no more gambling. No more magic casinos. No more dying.

And I need a drink.

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Starts recording

Okay. So. I did it. I finally saw my parents again.

I don’t know why I thought this would go well. Maybe I thought enough time had passed that they wouldn’t be mad. Maybe I figured they’d be proud of me, considering I’m basically a technological revolution waiting to happen. But nope. Nope. That’s not what happened at all.

Let’s set the stage.

I show up at their house unannounced because obviously I wasn’t going to give them time to not answer my calls. I knock on the door, heart pounding like I just bet my soul in a Vegas casino again. And when my mom opens the door, she just… stares at me.

And then she slaps me.

Like, full-on, no hesitation, mom-level slap across the face.

“Oh, okay. Cool. Nice to see you too.”

And then she pulls me inside so fast my feet barely touch the ground, and my dad is just there—arms crossed, looking me up and down like I crawled out of a gutter. Which, to be fair, my hair’s still growing back from the radiation, my eyes are glowing, and I may or may not have been wearing a hoodie I stole from Yabba’s shop three years ago. So yeah. Probably didn’t look great.

Dad speaks first. “Three million dollars, Eden.”

I blink. “Oh, we’re opening with that? Okay. No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Wow, you’re alive’—”

Mom smacks my arm. “We were kidnapped. By some lunatic. Because of you.”

And yeah, that’s fair. That’s really fair.

They sit me down, and suddenly I’m twelve again, getting scolded for rewiring the toaster to make it shoot Pop-Tarts across the kitchen. Except this time, it’s not about Pop-Tarts—it’s about Bubba’s men shoving them into a van and holding them hostage until I wired over three million dollars.

“Do you know what it’s like,” Mom says, “to have a man with a guitar-shaped gun tell you your son is a criminal?”

I grimace. “That’s a gross misrepresentation of my work.”

“Eden.” Dad leans forward, voice low and heavy. “What the hell are you into?”

And there it is. The question I knew was coming. The question I had no real answer to.

What am I into? Mad science. Contracting. Reality-breaking physics. Harbingers. Shady business deals. Almost dying for sport.

But I can’t say any of that.

So I just say: “…Business.”

Dad doesn’t buy it. “Business doesn’t get your parents kidnapped, Eden.”

Mom’s arms are folded tight. “Do you sell weapons?”

“No.”

“Drugs?”

“No!”

“Then why,” Dad says, “did that Bubba man say you owed him something?”

I drag a hand down my face. “Look, he’s mad about something stupid. It’s personal beef, not business. I may have… insulted his music.”

Dad’s face doesn’t change. “So you got kidnapped over a bad album review?”

“…Something like that.”

Mom throws her hands up. “Eden. This is not normal!”

Yeah. No shit.

I sigh. “Look. I paid the ransom. I made sure you were safe. That’s what matters, right?”

Mom stands up so fast the chair scrapes the floor. “No, what matters is that you haven’t called us in years, and the first time we hear your name, it’s from a kidnapper demanding money! That’s what matters!”

Dad leans back, rubbing his temples. “Son. We don’t care about the money. We don’t care about your business. We care that we didn’t even know if you were alive until someone threatened us.”

And okay. Yeah. That stings.

There’s this silence. The kind that makes your chest hurt.

And then Mom says, voice softer now, “Where have you been, Eden?”

And I don’t know how to answer that.

I swallow. “…Working.”

She shakes her head. “Not good enough.”

And she’s right. It’s not.

I sit there, staring at my hands, feeling stupid for ever thinking this was going to be simple.

Finally, I say, “I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Mom’s eyes go wide. “Disappointed?”

“I work for Yabba,” I say. “I left school early. I do things that—” I gesture vaguely. “I just thought it’d be easier if I didn’t call. If I didn’t bring all that home.”

Dad sighs. “Eden. You think we don’t know what Yabba does?”

I blink. “…You do?”

Mom scoffs. “Of course we do. She’s a lunatic. A brilliant lunatic, but a lunatic.”

“And you didn’t try to stop me?”

Dad shrugs. “We knew you’d go anyway.”

I sit back, exhaling. “…Huh.”

Another silence. A little less heavy this time.

Mom shakes her head, arms still crossed. “So. What now?”

What now.

Good fucking question.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I was kinda hoping you’d tell me.”

Dad lets out a long breath. “Well. First, you’re staying for dinner.”

I blink. “Wait, really?”

Mom narrows her eyes. “You think you can disappear for years and not have dinner with us?”

And just like that, something in my chest unclenches.

Maybe things aren’t magically fixed. Maybe there’s still a million questions I don’t have answers to.

But dinner? That’s a start.

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Okay, so I just did something incredibly stupid. Again. But this time, it was on purpose.

I went to see Jada. In person.

And yeah, yeah, I know—I could’ve just sent a text, called her up, been like, “Hey, so I look like a nuclear accident now, and also, a famous rockstar wants me dead—wanna catch up?” But no, I decided to show up.

She lives in this high-tech co-op complex, the kind where everyone builds their own security system like it’s a pissing contest. Which is exactly why the moment I stepped onto her block, I tripped some kind of sensor, and fifteen robot drones locked onto my ass.

So that’s how Jada found me—on her front step, hands up, surrounded by little mechanical gremlins with stun guns.

The door slid open, and there she was. Same fire in her eyes, same grease-stained hands, same cocky little half-smirk—god, I missed her.

But then she really looked at me.

And I knew this was gonna suck.

She crossed her arms. “Eden?”

I gave her a lazy salute. “In the radioactive flesh.”

There was this pause. Not a long one. But long enough.

Then: “Jesus Christ, what happened to your face?”

I sighed. “Okay, so—bad contract, radiation poisoning, glowing eyes, botched surgery, yada yada yada—look, I’ll explain everything, but can I come in? Or are your murder Roombas gonna tase me?”

She rolled her eyes but waved me inside, dismissing the drones with a flick of her wrist.

I stepped in, and—yeah, okay, her place was a goddamn wonderland. The whole thing was a hybrid robotics lab/living space, wires running along the walls like vines, half-finished projects on every surface, a 3D printer churning out parts in the corner. It smelled like metal, solder, and coffee, and for a second, I had the dumbest thought—this feels like home.

Then she turned on me. “Explain.”

And so I did.

I told her about contracting. The Harbingers, the insane missions, the Vegas bullshit, Bubba putting a hit on me, accidentally adopting a kid, almost dying at least six different times—you know, normal shit.

She just sat on the workbench, arms crossed, eyebrows high, not interrupting. Which was terrifying.

When I finished, she just stared at me. Then, finally:

“You’re an idiot.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

“You almost died over a coin flip, Eden.”

“Okay, that’s not fair—”

“It’s extremely fair.”

“…Okay, yeah, it’s fair.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “And now Bubba’s after you.”

I groaned. “Oh my god, YES, WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT—”

She threw a wrench at me. I caught it.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

That made me pause. “Oh? Like me, like me? Or ‘like me’ in the ‘you’re a dumbass, but I tolerate you’ kinda way?”

Jada smirked. “You’re on thin ice, glowing boy.”

Fair enough.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Look, Jada. I know this is a lot—and I know I just showed up out of nowhere—but I came here because… I want you to come work with me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I have a farm now. And a supercomputer. And a business plan that could actually do some real good. But I can’t do it alone.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You? Asking for help?”

I groaned. “Jada.”

She chuckled, but there was something softer in her eyes now. “And you want me to just move in and work with you?”

“Yeah.” I hesitated. “Look, I—I get that we haven’t seen each other in a while, and I probably should’ve eased into this, but—”

She held up a hand, stopping me. Then, with a slow, teasing grin:

“Eden. We should probably go on a date before we move in together.”

I swear to god, my brain short-circuited.

I just stared at her. “A… what?”

“A date,” she repeated, like she was talking to a malfunctioning AI. “You know—two people, going somewhere, doing things, maybe a little flirting, maybe a little fun—”

“I KNOW WHAT A DATE IS.”

“Good, because I’m asking you out on one.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “I—uh—what—okay?!”

She grinned. “Good answer.”

I had no idea how to process this. I think my brain was still buffering.

But she just patted my cheek—“Still an idiot”—and turned back to her workstation. “So. When are we doing this?”

I blinked. “Uh. When are you free?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“…That soon?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You in a hurry to get me on your farm or something?”

I huffed. “No, I just—I mean—yes, but—not like that—”

She laughed. “Pick me up at seven.”

I just nodded dumbly. “Yeah. Seven. Cool. Yeah.”

Jada smirked. “I missed you, dumbass.”

Yeah. I missed her too.

Ends recording.