Isabel :)’s Reviews > The Scavenger Door > Status Update
Isabel :)
is on page 279 of 464
Once Fergus had eaten and then napped, he found that however much attention he tried to apply toward research and planning for his eventual but inevitable need to take the remaining core fragments away from the Alliance, Digital Midendian, and the cult, his mind only wanted to replay Isla in the mini-sub, holding up her bloodied hand, and relitigate everything he did wrong, did sloppily, could have avoided if he
— Sep 14, 2026 09:07AM
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Isabel :)’s Previous Updates
Isabel :)
is on page 449 of 464
WHAT THE FUCK. He did all that to save people and minimize harm because he cares and out of the goodness of his heart and dedication to completing his promises and he gets yoinked away from every home he’s ever known and all his friends and the family he just discovered and rediscovered??????? At least he has his cat. But what😭😭 Messed up. Amazing.
— Sep 18, 2026 09:57PM
Isabel :)
is on page 428 of 464
A 20 meter long cyborg stick insect comes up to you sniffs you and pokes at your stomach where freak aliens put electrical bee powers inside of you what do you do in this situation
— Sep 18, 2026 09:25PM
Isabel :)
is on page 369 of 464
He was half-out of his workalls and struggled to free at least one leg as the van returned, belatedly, to its normal horizontal orientation with a crash. “Whiro, please try to keep all four wheels on the road,” he said. “Would you rather drive?” Whiro answered. “No.” “Then please be quiet. This technology is limited and requires my concentration.
— Sep 17, 2026 08:17PM
Isabel :)
is on page 369 of 464
“Can you take the wheel, Whiro?” “Happily,” Whiro said. Fergus straightened up and was climbing into the back of the van when it suddenly swerved, and he crashed shoulder-first into one of the seats. “Apologies,” Whiro said. “I forgot there is no up. Recalculating.”
— Sep 17, 2026 08:14PM
Isabel :)
is on page 367 of 464
One by one he picked up the real fragments and dropped them into the modified soda cans he had under the tray in the toolbox, capping and sealing them, but not before each one sang to him of doorways, and something else whispered and rustled and whined, a sound somewhere between the chatter of tiny insects and the click of ravenous machines, in a chorus of billions through that connection from the other side.
— Sep 17, 2026 08:11PM
Isabel :)
is on page 364 of 464
More the latter, he thought, which maybe meant it was time to get out of this business. He chuckled; unless he got those pieces, he WAS getting out of this business. All business, along with everyone and everything else.
— Sep 17, 2026 08:04PM
Isabel :)
is on page 354 of 464
‘Oh, hell, no, you just didn’t,’ he thought, and slapped his hand down on top of the napkin. It sang at him, full operatic electrical noise that felt like it had plucked his spinal cord like a bass string.
— Sep 17, 2026 07:50PM