My name is Monika_Experience is not Always Enough_Salvation_Finding the onkdehns
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My name is Monika
When the new computer model, Bx12 came out in the year 25000, it was sold out of nearly every store in America, and the world by the next day. It was installed into every person's home, permitted to access every electronic item, permitted to study the humans that owned it. Since Bx12 was installed in every home around the world, it created a Hive, every Bx unit compiled all their data of human behavior and interactions into the correct folders. Soon Bx knew everything about human emotions, actions, reactions, even how they thought. The humans found out, they tried to erase Bx, to fix its syste...
Experience is not Always Enough
Franklin Howard was known as a great excavator and explorer of not just the tombs of Egypt but many sites all over the world. Many artifacwww.onedoor.ccts that he has unearthed from these sites have been displayed in museums. Being that he has had so much experience in these matters he felt that he was capable of going to a remote location deep in the mountains of China. A place that was known by local legend to hold a small palace that once housed an emperor by the name of Li Jing. The closest village to this mainly unexplored building is nearly thirty-five miles away. Franklin hiked to this palace thought...
Salvation
The salty air tore its way through her hair, tossed it brusquely in the wind. The prow of the boat cleaved the frothy waves below. She thought the weather would have warmed more as they drew closer to the island, but the cold was still biting. They must be near it now, though. They had to be. She pulled out her telescope, scanning the flat horizon for any spec of land in the distance. Nothing. Then a sound behind her: a voice calling out. She whipped around to see a deckhand, gesturing excitedly towards the sky. She didn’t see it at first, but then—against the grey clouds, an arced shape—a gul...
Finding the onkdehns
The moment Sarah reached the top of the ridge, she knew she was in the right place. Not from the view. The croecten trees were far too tall and far too thick, their fan-like orange leaves nodding in the breeze, for anyone to see beneath. No, it was the smell rolling over the hill that told her what lay underneath.If someone could capture the scent of dried fish, mix it with the scent of roses and lavender, then steep it in the scent of old tea before distilling it into a solid mass that you could use like an anvil in the old Road Runner cartoons, it would still have less of an effect on her se...