Seattle NewsNet – City Affairs | August 4, 2097

 

Urban Drone Racing Gains Legitimacy? Or Just a Faster Way to Crash Society?

Seattle NewsNet – City Affairs | August 4, 2097

Seattle, UCAS – The Seattle City Council is expected to debate a radically controversial proposal this Friday that could bring Urban Drone Racing (UDR) out of the shadows and into the legal sphere. Supporters claim the move would improve public safety by regulating an already thriving underground phenomenon. Critics say it's tantamount to legalizing vehicular vandalism and hacker terrorism.

The proposal, backed by Councilwoman Natalia Reyes, suggests establishing licensed race corridors, requiring drone pilots to register IDs, and partnering with megacorps to create a controlled framework for urban racing entertainment. The real twist? The proposal is allegedly backed—quietly—by several Horizon subsidiaries and at least one Aztechnology affiliate, both eyeing broadcast rights.

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Fast, Furious, and Totally Illegal

UDR has exploded across Seattle in recent weeks, from the alleyways of Redmond to the glimmering vertical gardens of downtown Bellevue. But this isn’t the sanctioned, track-bound drone sport of yesteryear. This is the illegal kind—fast, chaotic, and often dangerous.

“It’s not even their own drones,” says Officer Marcus Juarez of Lone Star. “They’re jacking garbage haulers, security patrol bots, food delivery units—anything with mobility and a Matrix link. Which is basically everything.”

Juarez is referring to the most talked-about race of the week: a high-stakes relay involving three hacked automated trash handling units barrelling through Bellevue’s Corporate Plaza District, shattering a pedestrian bridge, disrupting a Neonet conference, and making local headlines after one drone crashed through the lobby of a Saeder-Krupp satellite office.

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The Anatomy of a Race

Participants—often deckers or drone riggers—jack into the city’s Matrix overlay and hijack commercial drones in real-time. These races are often spontaneous, livestreamed, and heavily gamified, with betting pools tracked across darknet boards and subnet enclaves. The most popular format right now is called "Drag and Drop", where racers must grab, carry, or steal a random payload mid-race before crossing a finish line.

“It’s like Mario Kart meets Grand Theft Auto, only in real life and three-dimensional,” says H3llcatRodeo, an anonymous drone racer who claims to have piloted the Bellevue trash-hauler during last week's race. “And yeah, maybe a few windows got smashed. That’s called turning!”

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Follow the Credits

Analysts note the timing of the legalization push is… curious. The UDR scene has been bubbling under the surface for years, but this current wave is different—higher-tech, better coordinated, and mysteriously well-funded.

“We’re seeing high-end neural rigging hardware show up in SINless garages,” says drone analyst Faye Montero. “Someone is backing this. Maybe as a proof of concept. Or maybe they’re just scouting talent for corporate racing leagues.”

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Public Reaction: Wildly Divided

Proponents argue that regulation is the only sane response to an unsanctioned craze that’s already embedded in Seattle’s culture.

“People said powerboarding was a menace in 2053,” said Councilwoman Reyes at a press preview. “Now it’s a core Olympic sport. If we can regulate crime, we can regulate speed.”

Opponents, like property insurance consortium ASA (Asset Stability Alliance), aren’t amused.

“We logged 7.3 million nuyen in damages in just 10 days,” said ASA rep Veronica Lex. “This isn’t sport. It’s vandalism in VR goggles.”

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Next Steps

The council hearing on Friday will hear from industry reps, community voices, and—controversially—a representative of the Seattle Drone Riders Coalition, who asked to remain anonymous and will appear via VR proxy.

A temporary injunction remains in place around most drone-heavy districts, but the races show no signs of slowing down. Last night’s action? Downtown airspace. Twelve drones. One cargo lift. Two fires. No fatalities. Yet.

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Bottom Line:
The world is watching. The drones are moving. And in a city torn between freedom and control, Urban Drone Racing may be the next great frontier—or its next great mistake.

Seattle NewsNet – Local Affairs | August 4, 2097

 

Tensions Boil in Redmond as Lone Star Conducts Evan’s Creek Raids

Seattle NewsNet – Local Affairs | August 4, 2097

Evan’s Creek, Redmond – A series of late-night operations carried out by Lone Star Security Services in the blighted district of Evan’s Creek has reignited public debate over the role of corporate policing in Seattle's most lawless sprawl. According to eyewitnesses, multiple armored units rolled through residential sectors around 01:30 local time, accompanied by unmarked surveillance drones and “heavily augmented personnel.”

While no fatalities have been confirmed, there are reports of at least four hospitalizations, two disappearances, and significant property damage.

“They came in like it was a warzone,” said Maria Xue, a local medtech volunteer at a community clinic. “No warrants. No questions. They just kicked down doors. The neighborhood’s never been the same since the corpos pulled out. Now it’s the occasional Lone Star officer and ghosts.”

Local Matrix feeds lit up overnight with shaky footage showing armored trucks, power-armored operatives, and apparent drone jamming protocols in effect. Several community networks were dark for hours.

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The Official Story: Denials and Doubts

Lone Star issued a brief, highly polished statement this morning:

“There has been no spike in operational activity in Evan’s Creek. Lone Star remains fully committed to patrolling all of Redmond in accordance with our contracted mandate. We categorically deny any knowledge of bioroid trafficking, mercenary activity, or escalated threat levels in the area.”

When pressed for details regarding the sudden appearance of tactical forces, a Lone Star PR liaison responded only:

“We investigate threats where they arise. Public safety is our priority.”

The Mayor's office declined to comment directly, citing an “ongoing interagency review” of public-private security operations in Redmond.

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Rumors and Speculation

Despite the denials, local analysts and independent media outlets suggest a darker picture.

Rumor #1: Bioroid Black Market
Multiple sources—some affiliated with ex-Aztechnology assets—claim that Redmond has quietly become a hub for bioroid resleeving and aftermarket modification, particularly of surplus security and industrial models. These are the same models officially banned from private ownership within Seattle city limits.

“There’s too much high-end tech floating around for this to be a local problem,” said Freya “Bluechip” Downs, a former Horizon field reporter turned independent blogger. “I’ve seen Aztech logos scrubbed off neural rigs. Someone’s doing real business out here.”

Rumor #2: Mercenaries for Hire
Recent sightings of unfamiliar paramilitary figures—some allegedly sporting old Pacific Protectorate insignia—suggest that Redmond is attracting independent operators. Whether hired by gangs, corporations, or foreign interests remains unknown.

“Someone’s stocking up and hiring up,” said an anonymous Fixer operating out of Touristville. “The only thing missing is the shooting war.”

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Local Voices: “We’re Not Collateral”

Protests erupted in scattered locations across Redmond this morning, from Volunteer Park’s ad hoc clinic to the ruined shell of Northgate Mall. Some carried signs reading: “Evan’s Creek is Not a Testbed”, “Redmond is Real”, and “No More Black Bags.”

A local SINless activist known only as Drell spoke from the back of a converted food truck:

“Every corp gets its turn to play gods with Redmond. Lone Star’s just the latest. But we’re still here. Still breathing. You can’t gentrify pain.”

Others are less hopeful. A quiet memorial has sprung up in the ruins of a collapsed tenement where two teenage siblings were allegedly taken. No bodies have been found.

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Bottom Line:
Lone Star claims nothing unusual is happening in Evan’s Creek. But the residents—and the Matrix—aren’t convinced.

And with rising magical interference near Mount Rainier and foreign megacorps posturing abroad, few in Redmond are confident that help is on the way.

Seattle NewsNet Morning Bulletin – August 4, 2097

 

Seattle NewsNet – Morning Bulletin

August 4, 2097 | Curated by Horizon Group Syndication Services

🌍 GLOBAL HEADLINES

Halo’s Parisian Double Feature Sparks Joy, Fury, and Ideological Meltdown
Paris played host to two wildly different performances by global simsense superstar Halo, and the Matrix is still ablaze.

• Aug 3, Eiffel Tower: The "public" concert cast Halo in the role of a modern-day Jeanne d’Arc, fighting corporate greed and societal apathy. The immersive simsense ending—with Halo's symbolic death—left millions emotionally wrecked. Hashtags #HaloMartyr and #LightOfFrance are trending across Europe and the UCAS.

• Aug 4, Versailles: The exclusive follow-up show, attended by Europe's elite, praised historical leadership and divine right with a glowing digital resurrection of Jeanne d’Arc—now openly critical of ruling elites and disconnected power structures. Some called it bold. Others called it “dangerously subversive.”

As if on cue, critics on all sides have found something to hate.

“She dies as a revolutionary, comes back as a technospirit to lecture kings? Give me a break,” writes @kropotkindred on Parliamatrix.
“She’s shilling for Saeder-Krupp one minute and holding hands with Nygård the next? I’m out,” posts UCAS content creator LoveSprawl808.
“Quebec. Jakarta. Copenhagen. Paris. It’s not the Darklight Tour anymore—it’s the Communist World Tour,” jokes @InfowarAngel_666.

Starway Elite’s Vice President of Operations Philip Harrowfield refused to comment on ideological accusations, but reiterated the company’s commitment to “artistic freedom and global outreach.” Insiders say both concerts drew record streaming numbers, especially among younger demographics across Europe and East Asia.

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🇺🇸 LOCAL: SEATTLE

Mt. Rainier Quakes: Evacuation Orders Loom
The seismic activity near Mount Rainier has escalated. Tremors were felt as far north as Renton late last night. The Cascade Seismology Bureau confirms multiple overlapping quake signatures, including unexplained magical fluctuations.

Residents of Ashford, Elbe, and Orting are advised to prepare for potential evacuation. UCAS Federal Aid and Aztechnology Emergency Services are deploying drones and temporary shelters.

“It’s not just tectonic—it’s arcano-tectonic,” says one anonymous source inside the Seattle Thaumaturgy Institute. “This is no ordinary build-up.”

Tensions in Redmond as Lone Star Raids Evan’s Creek
A series of coordinated Lone Star raids in Evan’s Creek last night have reignited protests over jurisdiction and force escalation. No official statement yet from the Mayor's office, but local rumors suggest this may be tied to suspected bioroid trafficking and a rise in heavily armed mercenaries in the area.

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🌐 EUROPE ROUNDUP

SSU Reception Tonight in Copenhagen Ahead of Bonus Halo Show
The old royal palace will host a high-profile reception for Halo and Starway Elite this evening. Vice President Harrowfield and Speaker of the SSU Astrid Nygård are both confirmed to attend, sparking speculation about deeper political and cultural alignment.

Dresden Cloister Protests Continue
Anti-corporate protesters clashed with security forces at the Dresden Urban Cloister.

Oslo: One Dead, Two Injured in “Purity Panic” Riot
An argument inside the neo-Nordic purity district of Oslo turned violent.

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🎭 ENTERTAINMENT

Phoenix Rising Resurgence Continues
The show's unexpected surge in viewership—following fan-reports of Maya Torres’ appearance inside the Matrix—has launched its Season 3.5 “Echoes” arc into the top 5 international trending slots. Starway Elite has not confirmed production dates for Season 4, but speculation mounts.

Illegal Drone Racing Gains Legitimacy?
Seattle Council to debate a controversial proposal this Friday that would legalize and regulate Urban Drone Racing, citing public safety.

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // AUG 4, 2097

 

Copenhagen

It was a short hop from Paris to Copenhagen, but the mood shifted sharply somewhere along the way. Paris is drama. Copenhagen is surveillance.

This concert isn’t part of the main Darklight tour. It’s a bonus event. So here we are, scrambling through rehearsals, logistics, and another security sweep, because while Paris is unpredictable, Copenhagen is deliberate. And nothing happens here without being recorded, evaluated, and archived in triplicate.

The reception was held in the old royal palace, a building steeped in history but wired to the teeth with sensors, AI moderators, and whatever the Alignment Division uses to make people feel like they’re being flayed with polite interest. Everyone wore grey—sober, austere, regulation. Everyone but Astrid.

Astrid Nygård arrived in radiant white.

A statement, of course. Purity, contrast, command.

Halo was magnificent, as always. The local dignitaries tried to act unimpressed, but more than one of them was caught watching her with that distance, wide-eyed stare we've come to know and love.

President Evans’ husband came over from the UCAS, on my invitation. He’s a Halo fan. Genuinely. The kind of fan who knows the tracklist from her second album and shed a few tears during the private DC concert.

After the reception, I slipped away for quieter talks. Astrid first, naturally. She doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. There was that long, searching look across a silent room—the kind of moment that feels historic. And maybe it was.

Then a call with Berlin. Herr Krieg, guarded as ever, but cautiously optimistic. We spoke in veiled terms—trade corridors, shared infrastructure, cultural exchange programs—but what we meant was power. Is this the moment? When dragons and technocrats, unions and megacorps, stop pretending to be enemies and start building something functional? Or at least mutually profitable?

I wouldn’t bet on peace. But I would bet on profit. For them. For me.

—Philip Harrowfield

VP of Operations, Starway Elite Productions

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // JULY 28-AUG 4, 2097

 

July 28–Aug 2

Halo’s energy is relentless. A whirlwind of interviews, meet-and-greets, clandestine lunches, and sponsored rooftop seances. Every dusk-to-midnight stretch was booked. Evie and I barely had a minute alone. When we did, we made it count.

We "accidentally" ran into Sergei Volkov—Serj—who’s trailing the tour now like a ghost of branding past. He’s heavier, darker, full of fire and quiet menace. No smile. Just those hungry eyes and his new pack of tusked followers. His content has taken a turn—more primal, more raw. He’s spiraling, but controlled. A tragedy in slow motion.

Meanwhile, I’ve been speaking with half the planet’s power players. Astrid flew down from Copenhagen; Krieg dialed in from Berlin. Vivek, Teq, and even President Evans chimed in. There are corporate partnerships to nurture, security contracts to renegotiate (especially around Mt. Rainier), and personal agendas to massage. If I’m being honest—and this is the one place I allow myself to be—I’m playing the long game. There are fractures forming beneath the corporate crust. I intend to be there when the opportunities bubble to the surface.

Note to self: the name "Velaxas" causes quite a bit of unease in those in the know. But they all insist that there is no danger, that it was destroyed, buried, forgotten. 

August 3

Concert at the Eiffel Tower. Halo’s Joan of Arc routine brought the house down—literally, in one case: a viewer in Boston jumped from his third-story window in despair. She’s still in her "light" persona, preaching unity and courage and common folk uprising against the megas. The simsense climax—her martyrdom—triggered a global grief spike. Horizon PR will be sorting through that data for weeks.

August 4

Private concert at Versailles. Less martyr, more monarchist this time. Halo praised the idea of noble leadership, but tempered it with warnings. Her resurrection—digital and ghostlike both—delivered a final monologue about the fragility of power and the hunger of the forgotten. The elite guests applauded, but several have already posted passive-aggressive remarks. The Nouvel Observateur called it “Communist necromancy dressed in couture.” I couldn’t be prouder.

We leave tomorrow. Next stop: Copenhagen.

—Philip Harrowfield

Vice President of Operations, Starway Elite Productions
Consort of the Darklight. Drinker of espresso. Keeper of secrets.

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // JULY 27, 2097

 

Journal Entry – July 27, 2097 – Paris

Paris. City of lights, of layers, of contradictions.

Evie, Vanya, and I arrived ahead of the others. We touched down in the inner arrondissements—those heavily curated, half-museum, half-arcology districts where the past is preserved, remixed, and sold at a premium. A half-hour ride in the other direction, and the rest of the metroplex is crumbling, a digital ghost town where glitched AR ads hover above cracked concrete and burned-out cafés.

But I came here for something very specific.

The simsense opera Red Sands, White Profits has been packing houses across Europe—an avant-garde historical hallucination of the First Corporate War told through the resurrected memories of long-dead CEOs. It's vulgar, brilliant, unsettling. Everything modern art ought to be.

Vanya confirmed what I suspected—there's magic in it. Not during the show itself, but in its making. She can't say more. Her talents lie in shaping spells, not in communing with the dead. So I tracked down the maestro: Philippe Foch, genius, fraud, necromancer, artist.

He admitted, after some coaxing and flexing of nuyen, that they had indeed used summoned spirits to inspire the production. Actual echoes of the dead—executives, shareholders, mid-level managers from a war that shattered the world and birthed the corporate age. But the spirits were not channeled during performances. “We do not marionette the dead,” he said. “We listen. We craft. We perform.”

I believe him. But I also see the potential. I want Red Sands signed to Starway Elite. And I want to know what else these souls have to say.

Which leads me to her.

Foch agreed to a séance. We tried to reach Selena Mars—the actress portraying Maya Torres, the character from Phoenix Rising. The séance... failed. Nothing happened. Not in meatspace.

But later, in the Matrix, Wizkid saw her. Not the actress—the character. A full technomantic echo. She had no recollection of ever being anything but Maya Torres. It was her. It is her.

And now I am convinced: Maya’s actor was likely one of the very first technomancers. She played the role of a technomancer, yes—but perhaps she didn’t need to act at all.

The soul, the echo, the self—these things are slippery. Egypt gave me gods. India gave me lifetimes. Samarkand gave me resonance that survives death. And now Paris gives me ghosts.

I’ve seen enough to know: death is only a phase. And art, it seems, is one of the ways we reincarnate.

Seattle NewsNet | Global Dispatch – July 28, 2097

 

Curated International Feed | Source: Horizon Group WorldWatch | Local Broadcast Override Enabled

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Europe: Shifting Currents in the Old World

📍 Black Forest, Allied German States
“Lofwyr’s Shadow Grows”
Saeder-Krupp has confirmed the closure of public access to the Schwarzwald Special Economic Zone. While officials cite “temporary mana pollution,” rumors persist that Lofwyr himself is conducting a full-scale relocation of his hoard to a “new dimensional substrate.” Some Eurozone observers worry this may signal a shift away from corporate oversight toward draconic sovereignty. The EuroMark closed slightly down.

📍 Paris, Franco-Iberian Cultural Zone
“History Rewritten in HD”
The avant-garde simsense opera Red Sands, White Profits—depicting the First Corporate War through the memories of reanimated executives—continues to sell out performances. France’s Ministry of Media insists no real souls were used in the production, despite allegations of unlicensed necromantic rituals during previews.

📍 Brittany, Former Republic of France
“Breton Resistance Reignites”
Explosions rocked the port city of Saint-Malo as separatist cells claimed responsibility for disrupting a Saeder-Krupp logistics node. Local authorities believe insurgents used spirit-bound explosives, reportedly sourced from Tir na nÓg intermediaries. Horizon analysts warn of escalating anti-corporate sentiment in the region.

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🌐 Arcane & Resonant Activity

📍 Edinburgh, Arcane Republic
“Shared Dreamspace or Diplomatic Land Grab?”
The Grand College of Edinburgh has published maps detailing "dream overlays” shared between parts of Scotland, France, and western Ireland. French officials have denounced the claim as “metaphysical nonsense with expansionist undertones.” Horizon's Magical Trends Desk rates the College’s mana-modeling software as “concerningly accurate.”

📍 Vienna, Austro-Swiss Union
“When Ice Spirits Boil”
Glacier collapse in the Tyrolean Alps has triggered multiple elemental spillovers and a documented summoning of a hostile ice spirit claiming to be "Kalvus the Last True Winter." Local mages have called for international assistance, claiming the Alpine ley network is destabilizing faster than expected.

📍 Prague, Central Euro Magical Exchange
“Knowledge for Loyalty?”
Prague's legendary magical archives have opened access to Saeder-Krupp scholars and select Horizon initiates in what appears to be a knowledge-for-protection agreement. Critics accuse the Czech Mage Assembly of “privatizing the arcane commons.” Horizon assures no trade of forbidden rites has taken place. 

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🐉 Whispers of the Scaled

📍 Corsica, Independent Isle
“Karath-Fein Ascends”
The dragon Karath-Fein has been declared “Steward Eternal” of Corsica by the local assembly of elders. The vote passed with 87% approval following the sudden prosperity of fishing villages and the unexplained restoration of the island’s aquifers. Neutral observers are puzzled but note “no violations of international or local laws at this time.”

📍 Lapland Exclusion Zone, SSU
“Eyes in the Wastes”
Shadow-patrols along the northern Finnish border have reported encounters with non-astral draconic silhouettes, invisible to conventional scanners and astral sight alike. The Scandinavian Union Ministry of Unity has issued a Level 3 Containment Advisory but denies any supernatural threat. Matrix chatter calls them “ghost wyrms.”

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🛒 Lifestyle & Culture

📍 Berlin, AGS
“Neo-Goth 1930 Returns”
Berlin’s Unterstadt cloister district has gone viral with its immersive "1930s Gothic Noir" AR environment—complete with curated “grayscale anxiety” and synth-jazz radio stations. Critics call it escapism; users call it “therapy with trench coats.”

📍 Amsterdam
“Possession Tourism Surges”
The Netherlandic Spirit Licensing Authority reports a 42% increase in short-term body rentals by foreign spirits. A Horizon travel advisory reminds visitors to “read the waiver before inviting an astral guest into your spine.”

📍 Madrid, Berlin, Paris
“Urban Cloisters: Escapism or Soft Segregation?”
Across major European cities, the rise of “urban cloisters”—hyper-curated districts enclosed by augmented reality and strict access protocols—is reshaping how the elite experience culture. These private enclaves simulate romanticized versions of past or mythical eras: 1940s Left Bank Paris, Imperial Roman market squares, or even “True Nordic Purity” zones in Oslo, complete with ancestral rune overlays and simulated fjord air.

Supporters praise the cloisters as immersive artistic expressions and safe havens for cultural preservation. Critics, however, call them digitally gentrified echo chambers that promote social isolation and class stratification. A Horizon Futures report notes a “worrying correlation” between cloister residency and declining participation in public civic life.

Seattle NewsNet Morning Bulletin – July 25, 2097

 

🌋 MOUNT RAINIER: CRISIS LOOMING

A series of intensifying earthquakes near Mount Rainier has prompted an emergency statement from the Seattle Metro Emergency Office (SMEO). Seismic activity—once dismissed as minor—is now severe enough that evacuation protocols are being discussed for nearby communities, including areas of South Tacoma, Orting, and Enumclaw.

Experts from both GeoSecure and the University of Washington’s Department of Thaumageology report not just tectonic instability, but extreme magical flux radiating from the mountain’s core.

“There is something waking up down there,” said Dr. Helena Kwan, lead geomancer at UW. “This is not just geological—it’s astral. And it’s not good.”

Lone Star, DocWagon, and local corp security forces have begun coordinating logistical options for voluntary evacuation, while KE Watchtowers have reported spikes in mana surges and increased summoning activity from rogue Awakened in the vicinity.

Citizens are strongly advised to avoid the mountain. SMEO urges residents within a 50km radius to remain indoors unless necessary. Emergency shelters are being prepped in Seattle proper and Auburn.

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🎤 HALO COMPLETES “TRINITY OF LIGHT” IN EGYPT

Seattle’s own Queen of Resonance concluded the Egyptian leg of her Darklight World Tour with a trilogy of performances that has the world abuzz:

• Cairo (July 22): A grand return to classic Halo—bridging myth and modernity in front of a roaring crowd.

• Giza (July 23): A breathtaking “private” concert among the pyramids, streamed globally. Halo (as Isis) and Phoenix (as Osiris) led a multisensory resurrection of ancient legend and future hope.

• Luxor (July 24): A spiritually charged performance at the Temple Complex of Luxor for the high priests and dignitaries of Upper Egypt. The event marked the tour’s thematic climax: unity between Upper and Lower Egypt, life and death, gods and mortals.

The trilogy is already being hailed as “a mythic masterstroke in multimedia,” and according to NeoTimes, may shift cultural attitudes in Egypt for years to come.

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🧊 CORPORATE COURT UPDATE: Eldritch Dynamics vs Axon Research Initiative (ARI)

The legal proceedings between Eldritch Dynamics and Aztechnology’s subsidiary Axon Research Initiative (ARI) continue to escalate. With the unauthorized extraction of lead technomancer researcher Dr. Evelyn Winters and the technomancer subject known as Greyskull, Eldritch is now pursuing emergency arbitration before the Corporate Court. Aztechnology is highly likely to oppose such arbitration, making it 

Observers expect the case to set a precedent regarding ownership of Resonance-derived IP—and possibly individual sapient technomancers. More on this as it develops.

SNN has reached out to both parties. Both have declined to comment, referring instead to ongoing proceedings.

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🌐 OTHER HEADLINES

• Tacoma Powergrid Hit by Data Surge – Blamed on “magical interference,” half the district went dark for 15 minutes. No injuries reported. Matrix investigators suspect illicit summoning activity.

• Shadow Market Rallies – Seattle’s underground commodities index hit a 6-month high after recent instability in Saeder-Krupp's Munich offices. Gold, weapons, and simsense stocks surge.

• The Truth With Kate – This week’s breakout simshow continues trending. Guests confirmed for next episodes: Halo, Lofwyr, and Scandinavian Union Speaker Astrid Nygård.

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Weather Forecast:
Overcast. Mana-charged winds in the north. Possible leyline flare-ups near Renton.
Chance of volcanic ash: 15% and rising.

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Stay safe, stay indoors, and stay skeptical, Seattle.

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // JULY 25-27, 2097

 

July 25 – Cairo

Back in Cairo. A day to relax, relatively speaking. No concerts. No divine negotiations. Just a few dozen minor crises and half as many meetings. That passes for calm these days.

I spent the morning reviewing security and logistics with the team. The rest of the day was my own. So I reached out to Vivek.

We spoke—digitally, of course. I asked him if I could borrow the scepter.

He found it amusing. Said I could, since it’s “worthless” without its capstone—something he apparently knew the whole time. Watched his own daughter betray him over it for no other reason than curiosity and boredom. I can’t tell if he’s callous or just operating on a different scale of consequence. Probably both.

Still, he’s loaning it to me. For research. What kind of research? I’ll figure that out. The scepter hums with history. There may be more there than he lets on.

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July 26 – Cairo

Spoke with Astrid Nygård today.

Officially: to prepare for the Scandinavian leg of the tour—concerts in Copenhagen, her media appearance on The Truth with Kate, that sort of thing.

Unofficially? Perhaps something more.

There’s opportunity in the SSU. Not just for Halo, or Horizon, or Starway Elite—but for me. Astrid is powerful, precise, and playing a deep game. The Union’s international image is suffering. Her own political capital is strained. Halo can help shift perception. So can I. If she lets me in.

I floated the idea of giving the Union’s Awakened creatures a greater voice—metahumans, spirits, even dragons, if they’re listening. She was… intrigued. I don’t think she expected that angle. But this is bigger than ratings and album sales. There’s room here for a new bloc. Vivek, Astrid, and others. A triangle of influence cutting through the tired East/West divide.

Also—let’s not lie—I kind of like her. That’s going to complicate things. Sorry, Wizkid. You’ll need to find your drama elsewhere.

Speaking of which…

Wizkid’s been busy. He bought a derelict property in Evan’s Creek, up in Redmond. Plans to open a club. He’s calling it The SINless. I’ve seen the blueprints. It's less “nightlife hotspot” and more “paramilitary recruitment center with a dancefloor.”

Tacoma’s seen a spike in armed merc sightings. So has Redmond. Evan’s Creek is humming. Whatever he’s building, it’s not just a bar. I haven’t asked questions. Probably better that I don’t.

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July 27 – Departure

We leave for Paris.

More concerts. More gods.
More secrets. More plays.
The scepter’s coming with me.
Let’s see what France remembers.

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // JULY 24, 2097

 

Luxor, Upper Egypt

This morning, we left Cairo behind, bound for Luxor—first by air, then by car, tracing a path through a land that does not welcome outsiders lightly. You don’t visit Upper Egypt. You are admitted. And only barely.

The mood was taut. Security everywhere—our own people, yes, but also local forces, magical and mundane. I’ve grown accustomed to layers of surveillance and protection, but this… this was different. Felt less like safety, more like ritual. As though we were being allowed into something sacred and dangerous, and the guardians would not hesitate to revoke that permission if we misstepped.

The concert—the third in our little mythic trilogy—was held at Luxor’s great temple complex. What was once immense is now almost beyond comprehension. The plaza alone could swallow most arcologies whole. Statues of the gods ringed the space—some familiar (Osiris, Isis, Horus, Phta, Bastet, Sobek, Set), others lost to time, or perhaps newly Awakened, born of the 6th World’s return. Their gazes felt real, watchful. Halo joked about it before we started. She didn’t after.

Her performance mirrored Giza’s in form, but not in tone. This wasn’t Isis and Osiris. This was all of us—gods and mortals, metahumans and monsters, reborn in the echo of older worlds. A bridge between what was, what is, and what might yet be. The crowd—priests, dignitaries, and whatever dwelled in those stone eyes—was rapt. And when she finished, there was a stillness that tasted like approval.

That was when I met him.

Amun-Ta. The sorcerer of the 4th World. Theran-born, or something like it. A myth walking in flesh, older than any empire still remembered. He was… exactly what I expected, and nothing I expected. Power wrapped in poise. His presence made the air feel thicker, like the world paused slightly whenever he inhaled.

We talked—longer than I thought he’d allow. He’d heard of me. Of us. Curious about the concert, about Halo, about Phoenix Rising of all things. But most of all, he was curious about power. And cycles. And the truth that flickers between one age and the next.

I asked him what any sane person would ask: for a piece of it. His power. The magic of Upper Egypt, the hidden kingdom, the reborn pantheon.

He gave it to me.

Not all of it. Not even much, I’m sure. But more than anyone else has, and enough to burn through my soul like wildfire. It mingles now with the draconic spark I already claimed. They don’t mix cleanly. There’s conflict, turbulence. But I feel more now. Larger. Closer to the edge of something enormous.

I wonder what I’ve become. Or what I’m becoming.

But one thing is clear:
Cairo, Giza, Luxor.
Lower, Middle, Upper.
Old, New. Death, Rebirth.
United.

And I, Philip Harrowfield—Vice President of Operations, Halo Tour Manager, reluctant mystic—stand at the center of it all.

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // JULY 23, 2097

 

Tonight, beneath a sky jeweled with stars and framed by restored pyramids older than history, Halo delivered her most uplifting concert yet. The private amphitheater—ancient stone updated with bleeding-edge tech—glowed with our lights and echoed with our songs. Roughly a hundred flesh-and-blood guests were present, but the entire world watched with a short delay. A trick of timing, sure—but it made the experience feel more intimate, more sacred.

Halo was radiant—literally—as Isis reborn. Phoenix returned to play Osiris. The Darklight tour now feels lighter than dark, but I suspect that’s intentional. The show was more than a performance; it was a resurrection. Life and death, past and future, separation and reunion. They wove those themes into a story that made even the most hardened Azzie executive smile and tear up a little.

I spent some time with Evie. A moment of peace. Then drifted to speak with High Priestess Sekhmet-Het of Bastet—our feline-headed friend on her second act—and Selvetra Vivekzai. To her credit, Selvetra came willingly, bearing the stolen scepter of Amun-Ta. True to her word. The price of exile is steep, but not final. I suspect she’ll be sticking around. For now, she walks beside me.

The scepter… well. Turns out it’s incomplete. No capstone, no full function. I recognized what it needs—a piece of stone I’ve seen before, from a very particular continent we don’t speak of in polite company. I kept that to myself. I’m sure it will come in handy.

I sent word to Vivek. The scepter was placed under maximum security and shipped immediately to Samarkand. Suborbital. Nothing less. Our guardians? Bioroids. Aztlan models. Reliable. Or so we thought.

An hour later—chaos. Medical emergencies. One dead. One alive. Neither still human. Not even close. Stony skin. Black, mirrorlike eyes. No body hair. No detectable vitals. But alive, or something near it. I’m calling them Obsidimen. 

Something in that scepter… or something near it. This is going to make waves.

After all that, the afterparty was surprisingly tame. Halo stayed. That alone is rare. She smiled. Laughed. Even danced a little. So maybe something’s gone right.

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // JULY 22-23, 2097

 

July 22-23
Most of the team continued doing their Cairo thing—scouting locations, coordinating media ops, pretending they weren’t melting in the sun. The simfluencers scattered across the city, doing what they do best: manufacturing meaning from ambiance. Meanwhile, Halo delivered a performance worthy of the old gods.

Taking on the persona of Isis, she preached a gospel of difference and unity, past and future, death and rebirth. It hit harder than expected, the crowd swept up in something both ancient and very modern. Even I felt it. For a moment.

But I excused myself and left the sacred for the profane.

Vanya and I took a suborbital to Seattle.

Why now? Wizkid’s been digging, and we’ve got another lead on the Hope Springs killer. Not Maria this time. An elf calling himself James Rivers—a fake SIN, naturally. We’d ID’d him from old footage and triangulated recent movement patterns. And... I’ve been having dreams. The yellow eye again. Always watching.

We landed at dusk. Swung by my old place in Tacoma, changed clothes, armed up, and took the bike to Redmond.

James wasn’t too hard to find. We caught him at a Stuffer Shack, of all places. He was... twitchy, sure. But not hostile. He confessed to being part of “something larger,” that the killings were part of a ritual, and that he wasn’t working alone. He confired what I already suspected, including a location—an abandoned mall—and we let him go. He’s Redmond’s problem, not mine. We had bigger fish to fry.

What we found beneath the mall was... a descent.

Someone had dug a shaft, straight into the earth. A troll—badly mutated but lucid—offered us “worm repellent.” We took it. Smart move. Without it, the rock worms that stalked the tunnels might’ve torn us apart.

The caves below were a mix of natural erosion and ancient excavation. We were attacked once—three hook horrors, fast and mean. But we handled it.

And then we found it. The claw. Embedded in obsidian like a relic from myth. I knew what it meant. The dreams. The pull. Just like the scale in the Lost Continent lab—but stronger. There was power in that claw.

I told Vanya what would happen. That I might not wake up. She rolled her eyes and said she’d watch me “for a while,” but she wasn’t dragging my corpse home. Fair enough.

I touched the claw.

Lightning. Pain. Death.

I woke up in the astral plane.

Physical adepts don’t do astral travel. Which is how I knew I was dead.

On the other side of a vast crystal wall, a Great Eye blinked. Then a thousand more. Each refracted, reflected. A Great Dragon stared through the wall. It spoke without moving. Claimed to be beyond names.

We talked. Or circled each other in words. I claimed his power. He threatened to eat me. The crystal kept us separate. I deduced he was imprisoned—he insisted otherwise. But he admitted I was “vigorous,” “cunning,” and “surprisingly dragon-like.” Which I’ll take as a compliment.

In the end, we struck a vague accord. I’d help “free” him (no timeline, no specifics), and he’d grant me draconic sight—a power boost, like before. Then he slammed my spirit back into my body.

I woke up with Vanya glaring at me, calling me an idiot. Apparently, I’d been clinically dead for a while. She hadn’t left.

We climbed out.

Outside, we found James, the troll, and two more cultists preparing a blood sacrifice. I didn't interefere. Again, not my problem. But I did swear them to secrecy and service. Appointed them Wardens of the Pit. No one else goes down. Not without my say-so.

We burned our gear, bought new clothes at a thrift shop, and made it back to Tacoma. Then caught the suborbital back to Cairo, just in time for the Giza concert on the 23rd.

Because that’s how you do brand management and spiritual apocalypse in the same 48 hours.

JOURNAL ENTRY – PHILIP HARROWFIELD // JULY 17–21, 2097

 

July 17
Woke up to discover that the private concert scheduled for July 23—originally set beneath the stars at Giza—had been unilaterally relocated to Waset-Nekhbet (Luxor), epicenter of Upper Egyptian magical resurgence. Not by me. Not with my knowledge. The reason given: “ritual appropriateness.” Translation: someone in Horizon moved without consulting Operations. Again.

After a spirited exchange with Horizon liaison Irene Cho, we reached an understanding: the original concert proceeds as planned. The Upper Egypt event may proceed only as an additional concert, contingent on security guarantees from whatever gods or priesthoods run that zone. Irene agreed. She also assured me future surprises would be minimized. I consider this character growth.

July 18–19
We flew out to Cairo early on the 19th, checking in at the Nile Crown Arcology on Zamalek Island. Beautiful views, if you don’t mind the ever-present helicopters.

While Halo immersed herself in Egypt’s spiritual palette—settling on a performance persona styled after the goddess Isis, calling for the unity of Upper and Lower Egypt—the rest of us got to work.

That night, after a Nile-side BBQ, Kate debuted her new interview show: The Truth With Kate. I was her first guest. Light topics, naturally—engagement rumors, shadow-cats, ancient continents, the end of privacy, etc. It was raw, unedited, and Matrix audiences seemed to love it. Niche appeal, but promising. Guests tentatively lined up include Phoenix, Halo, Astrid Nygård, and, inexplicably, Lofwyr.

July 20
I was invited to a discreet meeting on Lake Moeris, where High Priestess Naema of Bastet (human body, feline head) greeted me aboard a reed boat.

The meeting was... surreal. That said, I got what I came for. Security guarantees for Waset-Nekhbet. And a deal: the concert in Luxor may proceed if—and only if—the scepter stolen in Samarkand is returned, and Selvetra Vivekzai is surrendered to her father’s custody.

Tabloids are already spinning tales about the nature of our “agreement.” Horizon issued a denial. Starway Elite declines to comment.

July 21
Today took a darker turn.

John Gardner—father of my fiancée, Evie—reached out. He had in his possession two pairs of cybernetic eyes, taken from victims of the Hope Springs killer. He insists he’s not the killer. I almost believe him.

We had Wizkid analyze the visual buffers. One pair yielded nothing. The second, however, showed Maria Gardner—Evie’s mother—covered in blood, surgical scalpel in hand.

I contacted Maria in VR. She admitted to the killings. Not under duress. No apology. Just... satisfaction. And the missing eyes? She eats them. I reminded her she now works for Aztechnology. I also informed her she’ll be under constant surveillance for the rest of her life. She either gets with the program or she has to go. Her call.

To offset the day’s horrors, I convinced Evie to join me in Cairo for the concert. She’ll be arriving on the 22nd via suborbital. It’s been over a month since we saw each other.