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It's like a power you can't abuse, intrusive thoughts are trying always to win.
The UDS has been peaceful for almost a month im pretty sure... Wow.
Not anymore...
Peaceful? They are just lazy to rp. Most of unactive nations, i guess. Maybe they forgot UDS or the NS as a whole.
Who's Japan again here?
Alright. Time to break peace.
Alright time to make use of my position and make this war (if it happens) realistic
War against 
Stratusia has been declared.
-Signed James Kennedy
Troops on landing carrier has been deployed are now heading for coast of Stratusia.
You make a whole paragraph for useless things and for a declaration of war you use one sentence? Not even a goal of this war?
Damn, give a reason at least example:THEY TOUCHED OUR BOATS 🇺🇲
relax i'm making the speech.
they're Japan (I'm eating a sandwich rn)
Is your goal to reclaim the old Russian islands north of Japan?
Good dinner. Wait, snack? It's 9 P.M. here so i don't know what you're doing.
Guys I'm recreating something like Subnautica, wanna read? It's like a novel so it's large
The Arsens and Cliffsidea
nah. they were Japanese empire
My dinner would be at 9 P.M est with pizza with Hawaiian fresh pineapple with chick fi la sauce and ketchup
I'm using every cell of my body to not give "Low tier god" energy after this hell of a sentence.
NOVA: Descent into the Abyss
---
Chapter One: The Pulse of Progress
The hum of NOVA was a soothing, omnipresent vibration. It coursed through the corridors and whispered in the bulkheads—a constant reminder of the ship’s vastness and purpose. Brenden Ylai, Chief Maintenance Officer, leaned against a railing on Deck 4, sipping cold, bitter coffee from a dented thermos. Around him, the maintenance crew bustled, patching up one of the ship’s auxiliary thrusters that had been finicky since they left Earth orbit.
> Horizon’s Voice: "Chief Ylai, diagnostic reports indicate auxiliary thruster stability has reached 91%. Performance can be increased by an additional 3% with recalibration of power nodes Alpha-3 and Beta-5."
Brenden tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. Horizon had the charm of a precision scalpel—efficient, sharp, and utterly devoid of warmth.
> Brenden (mocking): "Thanks, Horizon. I’ll just clone myself and get right on that."
> Horizon: "Cloning technology is unavailable aboard NOVA. However, additional manpower can be redirected from auxiliary duties. Shall I reassign?"
Brenden chuckled despite himself, tossing the empty thermos onto a nearby cart. “Don’t worry, I’ll manage. Just keep your data pristine and leave the dirty work to me.”
The AI fell silent, and Brenden turned back to the thruster panel. He didn’t need Horizon’s help to remind him of what needed fixing; he lived for this, the raw mechanics of keeping NOVA alive. His hands worked methodically, tightening bolts, adjusting circuits, breathing life into a machine that carried 213 souls on its maiden voyage.
---
Chapter Two: The Turn of the Tide
The ship’s intercom crackled to life, and the voice of Captain Carter boomed through the halls.
> Carter: "All crew, prepare for slingshot maneuver around Nebresta-B. This is a critical phase. Horizon, provide trajectory and turbulence forecasts."
> Horizon: "Acknowledged, Captain. Estimated turbulence severity: moderate to high. Adjusting stabilizers to compensate. Current success probability: 98.9%."
Brenden furrowed his brow. Anything less than 99% always made him uneasy. His instincts as an engineer told him to check the systems one last time, and he tapped his comm.
> Brenden: “Bridge, this is Ylai. Want me to double-check the thrusters? Last thing we need is a hiccup in the middle of this slingshot.”
> Carter (firm): “Noted, Chief. We’ve already locked in the maneuver, but stay on standby in case we need adjustments.”
Brenden cursed under his breath, feeling the slight shift in gravity as NOVA began its approach toward the massive blue-and-green planet below. The ship vibrated subtly, the engines throttling up for the maneuver.
> Horizon: "Gravitational slingshot procedure commencing. Adjusting velocity vectors. Current success probability: 98.1%."
The drop in probability wasn’t lost on Brenden.
> Brenden (to himself): "What’s eating the numbers, Horizon?"
> Horizon: "Electromagnetic anomalies detected within Nebresta-B’s magnetosphere. Effects on navigational systems are being analyzed. Error probability now exceeds acceptable margins."
His stomach tightened. The ship groaned as it angled deeper into the planet’s gravity well, the artificial lighting dimming for a brief moment before stabilizing. Brenden turned to a nearby maintenance tech.
> Brenden: “Jen, grab the toolkit. We’re heading to Deck 6. If the stabilizers flinch, I want to know before they kill us.”
> Jen: “On it, Chief. You think it’s serious?”
> Brenden: “I think I don’t trust machines to do what they’re told. Let’s move.”
---
Chapter Three: The Fall
Brenden and Jen barely made it to the stabilizer hub when the alarms began blaring, a piercing wail that sent a chill down his spine. Horizon’s voice rang out over the chaos, faster than usual, almost frantic in its precision.
> Horizon: "Warning: navigational failure detected. Gravitational pull exceeding projections. Collision course imminent. Lifepod deployment recommended. Success probability aboard NOVA: 15.7%."
The floor beneath them pitched violently, throwing Brenden against the bulkhead. Jen screamed as she hit the floor hard, clutching her arm.
> Brenden: “Damn it, Horizon! What the hell happened?”
> Horizon: "Primary stabilizers compromised by electromagnetic interference. Gravitational fluctuations rendered predictive models ineffective. Emergency measures required to mitigate fatal impact."
> Brenden (growling): "You could’ve warned us earlier!"
> Horizon: "Data streams became unreliable in real-time. Apologies are inefficient at this juncture."
Brenden clenched his jaw, helping Jen to her feet. Around them, the ship was coming apart—sparks flew from damaged conduits, and the walls groaned under the stress.
> Carter (over the intercom): "All crew, abandon ship! Repeat, abandon ship! Lifepods are your best chance. Godspeed."
Brenden didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Jen and started running, the corridors filled with panicked crew members shoving their way toward the nearest pods. The sight of Ellie Torres, the young communications officer, brought a lump to his throat.
> Ellie: “Brenden! What’s going on? Are we—?”
> Brenden (cutting her off): “Not now! Get to your pod, Ellie. Don’t look back.”
The lifepod bays were a scene of chaos, crew members yelling as they clambered into the small capsules. Brenden’s eyes darted to Pod 14. It was still open, and Harris, a junior engineer, was waving frantically from inside.
> Harris: “Chief! There’s a seat left!”
> Brenden (pushing Jen toward another pod): “Go, Jen. You’ll be fine. Go!”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her eyes wide with fear, and disappeared into Pod 15. Brenden climbed into Pod 14 just as the hatch began to close, the locking mechanism hissing as it sealed.
> Horizon (through the pod’s speakers): "Lifepod deployment sequence initiated. Total pods launched: 54. Analyzing survival probabilities for individual units."
---
Chapter Four: Alone in the Void
As the pod jettisoned from NOVA, Brenden’s heart pounded in his chest. Through the viewport, he caught a final glimpse of the ship—a hulking mass of fire and debris, its once-pristine hull now torn apart. Other lifepods streaked away from the wreckage like shooting stars, some spinning wildly, others vanishing into the void.
> Horizon: "Pod 14 trajectory stabilized. Entering Nebresta-B’s atmosphere. Warning: high turbulence detected. Survival probability: 32.9%."
> Harris (panicked): “Thirty-two percent? That’s it? We’re dead!”
> Brenden (snapping): “Shut up, Harris. If we were dead, Horizon wouldn’t bother talking to us.”
> Horizon: "Chief Ylai is correct. Communication systems are optimized for active survival scenarios."
The pod shuddered violently as it hit the atmosphere, flames licking the viewport. Brenden gritted his teeth, gripping the harness straps so tightly his knuckles turned white.
> Brenden: “Horizon, tell me we’re slowing down.”
> Horizon: "Descent velocity decreasing at expected rates. Impact likelihood with aquatic surface: 98.4%. Structural integrity of Pod 14: 87%."
The numbers didn’t comfort him, but there was no time to dwell. As the pod broke through the atmosphere, the alien ocean stretched endlessly below—a dark, churning expanse that seemed to beckon them into its depths.
The impact was brutal. Water slammed against the pod with a force that sent Brenden’s head snapping back against the seat. For a moment, everything went black.
When he opened his eyes, water was seeping through a crack in the viewport, and Harris was slumped over, unconscious or probably dead, Brenden unstrapped himself, wincing as pain shot through his ribs, and stared out at the alien ocean.
> Brenden (muttering): “Welcome to paradise.”
Above, the faint glow of NOVA’s destruction lit the sky, but Brenden had no time to mourn. Survival was the only thing that mattered now.
The chapter ends as Brenden begins prying open the emergency kit.
I'm Bi
So you know what I'd say.
SO CUTE WHEN UR MAD EEK.
(cringe ah quote)
They Surely have a purpose! Military is where we send em.
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Ad From Max
