Following a production of my R rating of this episode contains depictions of drug use and strong violence. A second oil age. They were Veil's eyes. If they'd been gaping sockets or coal red depths, perhaps I'd have reacted faster. But it was her. It felt like her, despite the brutality of her acts, despite the mist of blood still wafting through the air. It stood by the shattered tank, and for a moment I was frozen to the spot, paralyzed by the impossibility playing out before me. Don't you want to hear it it? She moved and I pierced her right shoulder with my ready throwing knife. As the weapon exited through her back, I lunged and spun round with the other blade. With so much basilisk in my system, there was no holding back. I'd seen what she was capable of. The veil Thing leapt over my sweeping slice, and I felt a sharp kick to the small of my bath. I ducked and rolled with the impact across the bloodied tiles. I popped up and plucked my knife from the wall. The hilts was slick with amber liquid. What are you? The veil Thing sprinted onto the room small stage and ripped the curtain aside. I let fly with another knife and watched it cut clear through her lower back. Unfazed, she launched herself up at a sealed maintenance conduit near the ceiling and tore it open with one hand, then poured herself through. I dashed after her. I heard shouting behind me in the mess hall, but I didn't look back. I leapt up and grabbed the edges of the conduit, heaving myself into the narrow shaft. I scrambled after her, following the twisting coils of wires and cables slithering through the trail of viscous amber that she bled in her wake. I rounded a corner and glimpsed her up ahead. I had one knife in hand, but the space was too confined for a throw, so I crawled as fast as I could, like some burrowing animal in pursuit of its prey, until the bottom suddenly gave out beneath me. I fell through an access hatch and into a dive chamber. The basilisk gave me the edge. I landed in a crouch, knife ready, and looked up to see three you deck security guards with squid guns leveled a fourth manipulated a communit. Jack's stood front and center, the cranium recognition scanner on her weapon taped as always freeze, drop the knife. You have to listen. What have you done. There's a journalist, a thing that looks like a stowaway from the Gladius. One of the airlock hatches open behind them with a frothy wash of deep pressurized seawater. The guard with the communit was the only one to notice the form rising behind them. Its skin was matt but slick with the sea scaled and tight with ropy musculature. It rose to nearly seven feet, and the formations on its skull gave its silhouette the appearance of a thorny crown. It closed one great webbed hand over the top of the nearest guard's head and twisted his skull around like a bottle cap. Jack's fired on me. Without the drug, that would have been it. I'd have choked to death there on the floor while the guards attended to their attacker. But my reflexes were just sharp enough. I shot my left forearm up and shielded my face from the bulk of the squid. The impact still sent me flailing backwards. The metagel instantly bolowed around me at its four corners, pinning me to the wall and my forearm against my face. But at least I could breathe. All I could see was their feet. I heard their cries. My first thought was the knife still gripped in my pinned hand, and whether I'd be able to saw through the squid in time. Then I heard Jack's cry out in pain, and her squid guns slid across the floor to my feet, just within reach. I strained out, first one foot, then both, attempting to scissor it up from the floor. My neck strained from the weight of my suspended body, but of course the gel held tight. I nudged off one of my shoes, and I've never felt so vindicated in my hatred of socks. I slipped my toes around the trigger guard and reeled it in. I felt the presence of the triton. I smelled a thick odor of salt water and sulfur rolling off it biology of the lightless depths. I gripped the squid gun between my ankles and pulled it up to my chest. I grabbed it with my free arm and touched the side of the barrel to the meadow gell. It liquefied, and I fell to the floor, right at the creature's webbed feet and the twin curling tentacles that clung obediently to its lower legs. I had never seen one before, only sketches by a logical profiles, never in the flesh, never this close. It loomed over me. Now it lifted a talented hand, so I obeyed my training. I looked up at its shadowed face. I burned into it with the twin elder marks on my scalp and brow. When it recoiled, I stood up and ripped away the scarp as well to reveal the one on my throat. The triton stumbled backwards, raising its claws to block the side of my marks. You Dex guards lay heaped behind it, surrounding the two open airlock hatches, like slaughtered lambs before an altar. I dropped the squid guns pointed the black tip of my knife at the retreating creature. My name is Snopon and I'm a licensed Udex agent. I invoke ambassador status in the terms of the Oceanic's accord. That's the second trite and grabbed me from behind. The world went dark beneath the webbing of its great hand. Another grabbed the wrist of my knife hand before I could counter. Then the creatures twin tentacles guong suspected to aid and propulsion alone, wrapped themselves around my legs. I thrashed in its grip but could find no purchase. I screamed into the muffling palm until voice and consciousness failed me. Does the ocean cool to you? If so, consider a career on the you Dex Deep Grid. Your hard work will help maintain the crucial sea floor infrastructure necessary to fuel our non combined and recombined people. Alike Phil Key roles both inside pressurized habitats and at large in the breath taking world of Earth's ocean depths. I wanted to see the world and do my part to keep it running, so I joined up as a systems manager. Thanks you Rex. It's hard to fit in on the surface, but down here my GMO status qualifies me for specialized, high paying work in some of the world's most unique environments. Thanks for you you Dex. Through the use of the d grid system and patented proty as well and sulb see Templar Technology GTT. We were able to safely harvest the Earth's deepest petroleum riches without endangering ocean or inland environments. You're the flame, we provide the fuel. You dex petroleum. Welcome to the second oil Age. Thanks again for such a lovely evening, Greg, You're the one who made it lovely. Wendy, I just haven't felt so at ease with anyone in a long time. Do you want to come up for a nightcap? WHOA stop right there? Don't you think you should know what you're getting into? What do you mean? Sex is God's holy method of reproduction, and reproduction is all about genetic combination, So don't you think you should know what sort of genes you're combined in with. We're just getting to know each other. Plus neither of us has an our CEO tattoo. There's only one way to be certain, and that's with jen No Whit. The leading on site real time genetic tester is fully compatible with off calm units, and it provides discrete answers in the streets all between the sheets. I'm sorry, Wendy, I had a great time, but I'm not really feeling it. Maybe I'll see you at church with jen no wit You'll know when? Did you know it is not intended to supersedi with question standard federal and international our SEPUL registration laws. Do you know what there's a subsidient of spiritual technologies? How else? Yeah, I don't know what happened next. The screaming, the chaos, It all felt distant to me. Scaled arms carried me through the halls of Atlas. A webbed hand masked my markings from my abductors and blinded me to the world. I breathed, and the world around me grew faint. At some point I stopped struggling. I dreamt my old life, strung out, thrown out of the service on a bad conduct discharge, my only home some promised cell in a Midwest religious compound where my mother claimed God was still speaking. I stood in front of the featureless black cube that was the Apathis building, all my belongings stuffed into a patch covered duffle, and I begged it to swallow me. The doors of Apathos opened wide, and inside the shadowed saint beckoned me enter. Black smoke pouring from her mouth like deep bent it self bide no pleasure will be denied it. During the treatment paper exposia, they divined with tilted destruction key eviable nets. I felt myself lowered into the womblike embrace of a warm, viscous medium. Atlas Station gave way to the warble of ocean waters just beyond the skin of my containment. I dreamt myself swallowed by Leviathan, contained, preserved. I wanted it to last forever, but outer clothing cut from my body like an accident victim. My skin bared to the cold airscations of the compandity to customize matrix. It is no other way. I don't know how much time passed, but I woke to feel byzantine spirals of embossed stone beneath me. I moved my fingers over the stone's surface and traced the endless coils. I opened my eyes and beheld the pomegranate glow of bioluminescent orbs. They seemed to float in the air above me, beneath a high domed ceiling scarred with the same coral like spirals, an illegible alien tongue inscribed in the bones of the earth. I was no longer on Atlas I was somewhere below breaking Great Great, Green, Break, Green Yeah. The second oil age was produced by Robert Lamb, Alex William Slouren Vogelbaum, and Josh Thain. This episode featured Angel Masters as Senov Pon, Lauren Vogelbaum as Tabitha Vale, and Annie Reese as Jack's supporting voice. Work by Tracy V. Wilson, Ramsay, Junt, Gina Rakiki, Nicholas Dakowski, Matt Frederick and Ben Bolan intro altro and supporting music created by the Weirding Module. Learn more at Module five dot band camp dot com. Music for the Genoit media segment, So Long solaris by Jacob Tutu, provided by King de Luxe Records. Learn more at King de Luz dot c. A from our podcasts from IRN Radio, visit the ir Radio app, Apple Podcasts or whinner We listen your favorite shows

Following a production of my R rating of this episode contains depictions of drug use and strong violence. A second oil age. They were Veil's eyes. If they'd been gaping sockets or coal red depths, perhaps I'd have reacted faster. But it was her. It felt like her, despite the brutality of her acts, despite the mist of blood still wafting through the air. It stood by the shattered tank, and for a moment I was frozen to the spot, paralyzed by the impossibility playing out before me. Don't you want to hear it it? She moved and I pierced her right shoulder with my ready throwing knife. As the weapon exited through her back, I lunged and spun round with the other blade. With so much basilisk in my system, there was no holding back. I'd seen what she was capable of. The veil Thing leapt over my sweeping slice, and I felt a sharp kick to the small of my bath. I ducked and rolled with the impact across the bloodied tiles. I popped up and plucked my knife from the wall. The hilts was slick with amber liquid. What are you? The veil Thing sprinted onto the room small stage and ripped the curtain aside. I let fly with another knife and watched it cut clear through her lower back. Unfazed, she launched herself up at a sealed maintenance conduit near the ceiling and tore it open with one hand, then poured herself through. I dashed after her. I heard shouting behind me in the mess hall, but I didn't look back. I leapt up and grabbed the edges of the conduit, heaving myself into the narrow shaft. I scrambled after her, following the twisting coils of wires and cables slithering through the trail of viscous amber that she bled in her wake. I rounded a corner and glimpsed her up ahead. I had one knife in hand, but the space was too confined for a throw, so I crawled as fast as I could, like some burrowing animal in pursuit of its prey, until the bottom suddenly gave out beneath me. I fell through an access hatch and into a dive chamber. The basilisk gave me the edge. I landed in a crouch, knife ready, and looked up to see three you deck security guards with squid guns leveled a fourth manipulated a communit. Jack's stood front and center, the cranium recognition scanner on her weapon taped as always freeze, drop the knife. You have to listen. What have you done. There's a journalist, a thing that looks like a stowaway from the Gladius. One of the airlock hatches open behind them with a frothy wash of deep pressurized seawater. The guard with the communit was the only one to notice the form rising behind them. Its skin was matt but slick with the sea scaled and tight with ropy musculature. It rose to nearly seven feet, and the formations on its skull gave its silhouette the appearance of a thorny crown. It closed one great webbed hand over the top of the nearest guard's head and twisted his skull around like a bottle cap. Jack's fired on me. Without the drug, that would have been it. I'd have choked to death there on the floor while the guards attended to their attacker. But my reflexes were just sharp enough. I shot my left forearm up and shielded my face from the bulk of the squid. The impact still sent me flailing backwards. The metagel instantly bolowed around me at its four corners, pinning me to the wall and my forearm against my face. But at least I could breathe. All I could see was their feet. I heard their cries. My first thought was the knife still gripped in my pinned hand, and whether I'd be able to saw through the squid in time. Then I heard Jack's cry out in pain, and her squid guns slid across the floor to my feet, just within reach. I strained out, first one foot, then both, attempting to scissor it up from the floor. My neck strained from the weight of my suspended body, but of course the gel held tight. I nudged off one of my shoes, and I've never felt so vindicated in my hatred of socks. I slipped my toes around the trigger guard and reeled it in. I felt the presence of the triton. I smelled a thick odor of salt water and sulfur rolling off it biology of the lightless depths. I gripped the squid gun between my ankles and pulled it up to my chest. I grabbed it with my free arm and touched the side of the barrel to the meadow gell. It liquefied, and I fell to the floor, right at the creature's webbed feet and the twin curling tentacles that clung obediently to its lower legs. I had never seen one before, only sketches by a logical profiles, never in the flesh, never this close. It loomed over me. Now it lifted a talented hand, so I obeyed my training. I looked up at its shadowed face. I burned into it with the twin elder marks on my scalp and brow. When it recoiled, I stood up and ripped away the scarp as well to reveal the one on my throat. The triton stumbled backwards, raising its claws to block the side of my marks. You Dex guards lay heaped behind it, surrounding the two open airlock hatches, like slaughtered lambs before an altar. I dropped the squid guns pointed the black tip of my knife at the retreating creature. My name is Snopon and I'm a licensed Udex agent. I invoke ambassador status in the terms of the Oceanic's accord. That's the second trite and grabbed me from behind. The world went dark beneath the webbing of its great hand. Another grabbed the wrist of my knife hand before I could counter. Then the creatures twin tentacles guong suspected to aid and propulsion alone, wrapped themselves around my legs. I thrashed in its grip but could find no purchase. I screamed into the muffling palm until voice and consciousness failed me. Does the ocean cool to you? If so, consider a career on the you Dex Deep Grid. Your hard work will help maintain the crucial sea floor infrastructure necessary to fuel our non combined and recombined people. Alike Phil Key roles both inside pressurized habitats and at large in the breath taking world of Earth's ocean depths. I wanted to see the world and do my part to keep it running, so I joined up as a systems manager. Thanks you Rex. It's hard to fit in on the surface, but down here my GMO status qualifies me for specialized, high paying work in some of the world's most unique environments. Thanks for you you Dex. Through the use of the d grid system and patented proty as well and sulb see Templar Technology GTT. We were able to safely harvest the Earth's deepest petroleum riches without endangering ocean or inland environments. You're the flame, we provide the fuel. You dex petroleum. Welcome to the second oil Age. Thanks again for such a lovely evening, Greg, You're the one who made it lovely. Wendy, I just haven't felt so at ease with anyone in a long time. Do you want to come up for a nightcap? WHOA stop right there? Don't you think you should know what you're getting into? What do you mean? Sex is God's holy method of reproduction, and reproduction is all about genetic combination, So don't you think you should know what sort of genes you're combined in with. We're just getting to know each other. Plus neither of us has an our CEO tattoo. There's only one way to be certain, and that's with jen No Whit. The leading on site real time genetic tester is fully compatible with off calm units, and it provides discrete answers in the streets all between the sheets. I'm sorry, Wendy, I had a great time, but I'm not really feeling it. Maybe I'll see you at church with jen no wit You'll know when? Did you know it is not intended to supersedi with question standard federal and international our SEPUL registration laws. Do you know what there's a subsidient of spiritual technologies? How else? Yeah, I don't know what happened next. The screaming, the chaos, It all felt distant to me. Scaled arms carried me through the halls of Atlas. A webbed hand masked my markings from my abductors and blinded me to the world. I breathed, and the world around me grew faint. At some point I stopped struggling. I dreamt my old life, strung out, thrown out of the service on a bad conduct discharge, my only home some promised cell in a Midwest religious compound where my mother claimed God was still speaking. I stood in front of the featureless black cube that was the Apathis building, all my belongings stuffed into a patch covered duffle, and I begged it to swallow me. The doors of Apathos opened wide, and inside the shadowed saint beckoned me enter. Black smoke pouring from her mouth like deep bent it self bide no pleasure will be denied it. During the treatment paper exposia, they divined with tilted destruction key eviable nets. I felt myself lowered into the womblike embrace of a warm, viscous medium. Atlas Station gave way to the warble of ocean waters just beyond the skin of my containment. I dreamt myself swallowed by Leviathan, contained, preserved. I wanted it to last forever, but outer clothing cut from my body like an accident victim. My skin bared to the cold airscations of the compandity to customize matrix. It is no other way. I don't know how much time passed, but I woke to feel byzantine spirals of embossed stone beneath me. I moved my fingers over the stone's surface and traced the endless coils. I opened my eyes and beheld the pomegranate glow of bioluminescent orbs. They seemed to float in the air above me, beneath a high domed ceiling scarred with the same coral like spirals, an illegible alien tongue inscribed in the bones of the earth. I was no longer on Atlas I was somewhere below breaking Great Great, Green, Break, Green Yeah. The second oil age was produced by Robert Lamb, Alex William Slouren Vogelbaum, and Josh Thain. This episode featured Angel Masters as Senov Pon, Lauren Vogelbaum as Tabitha Vale, and Annie Reese as Jack's supporting voice. Work by Tracy V. Wilson, Ramsay, Junt, Gina Rakiki, Nicholas Dakowski, Matt Frederick and Ben Bolan intro altro and supporting music created by the Weirding Module. Learn more at Module five dot band camp dot com. Music for the Genoit media segment, So Long solaris by Jacob Tutu, provided by King de Luxe Records. Learn more at King de Luz dot c. A from our podcasts from IRN Radio, visit the ir Radio app, Apple Podcasts or whinner We listen your favorite shows