Transition/Season 10

These take place after "Metamorphosis" and the Emergence Launch Trailer.

Transition	Description
Keep The Flame BP Level 01	Dear Seer, I don’t expect you to write back to me, you probably get fans writing to you all the time. It actually took me a long time to write this. I was embarrassed you wouldn’t like me, which I know is stupid because you’re the one who taught me that it’s our flaws, sorry, our “curses” that make us strong and unique. But we have to define our curse for ourselves and never let others define it for us... I have that written in all my books in school. I stare at it a lot, especially when they’re really being mean to me. It helps sometimes. Anyway, I just started summer break a few weeks ago, and I’m taking these drawing classes in the park. I made a friend there and, guess what, they also love you! They see so many things in you in themselves that I see in me too! They also belong to your fanclub like me! Maybe it’s dumb that I’m so excited, but I don’t really have any friends normally. Anyway, I guess I just wanted you to know that you mean a lot to me and other people like my friend. I think it’s important for people to know the good things they do for the world. Thank you for everything. “I will keep the flame.” Cody Duncan
Deep Dive BP Level 10	WALDORF: “Welcome back to The Talkin’ Legends Podcast with Norma and Waldorf, and today we’re diving deep into Seer.” NORMA: “Joining us in the studio is Dr. Adaeze Nwadiwe, professor of Cultural Studies at the University of B--” WALDORF: “Enough with the pleasantries. Doc--what’s up with the moth?” ADAEZE: “I’m sorry, what?” WALDORF: “Seer’s moth stuff. Is it supposed to mean anything other than ‘ew, gross, moths.’?” ADAEZE: “Well, yes and no. Moths are ubiquitous on Boreas, thanks to our robust textile industry. Moths have weaved their way through our planet’s culture, traditions, and yes, even our superstitions. Seer has been draped in this tapestry from birth, thanks to the curse drawn from the folktale, The Moth and the Flame--” NORMA: “Mm, yes, fascinating, indeed. Does Seer sleep?” ADAEZE: “I, uh...that’s not…” WALDORF: “If you had to guess.” ADAEZE: [long pause] “Yes.”
Why Is No One Else Freaking Out? BP Level 23	FW: CONFIDENTIAL [TAL_DATA_PURGE_06H2WE9] FROM: B. TO: Y. Gerber, Outlands Journal You said I was freaking out. You said you needed evidence. Well, I got you your evidence. Attached is the first-look data coming out of the Climatizer and Lava Siphon. H’s P.R. dept. claims these things will “mitigate and regulate the planet’s natural volatility.” The data’s code-watermarked so you know they’re legit. Take a hard look. Take an easy look. Hell, smell them. All of it will tell you what a headless prowler could figure out: the Climatizer and Lava Siphon do nothing! The Climatizer cools the air, the Lava Siphon heats it back up. Catastrophe’s coming, evidence is getting purged, but they put up these flashy do-nothing gizmos. Why? Because H has bazillions in mining investments across the Outlands, and can’t afford to look like it all leads down the toilet. So, H looks like they’re on top of it and lets the Apex Games play there like “See? All is well!” while an entire planet cracks apart. They can’t be allowed to get away with it. Not again. And again. And again. Don’t contact me again. I hear H’s got exploding planets for whistleblowers like me. And you.
A Witty Bunch BP Level 31	Oh, and you know the funniest thing? She’s just like my other boy, Ricky. Or . . . was it Elon? One of the boys. She’s quite the comedian—runs circles around Elliott, poor thing. Though I can tell he enjoys the company—much as they picked on him, I know he misses his brothers. A mother always knows. I’m happy he has her. I’m happy he has all of them! He spends all his time checking in on me. Of course I don’t mind—I love my little inchworm. But he needs something of his own. His own life and family, that he can go back to . . . because I won’t be around forever. . . . What was I talking about? Ah, yes, the boys. Oh, and their father. You would not believe what he tried to pull the other day . . .
Disciplinary Action BP Level 54	Dear Mr. Okereke, Thank you for your letter. To hear that he was distracting the other children, impacting their ability to learn and achieve! That his science fair project was found to be in poor condition, and one of his micro-drones led a child to run head-first into a wall! That some children have stopped coming to school, fearing that Obi’s “curse” will jump to them, that he will “kill them with his eyes”! If you expected us to say sorry, that we would tell Obi to be less sensitive, less beautiful, or less courageous, you will be sorely disappointed. The only thing we’re sorry for is not saying this sooner: you, Mr. Okereke, and your whole class, are a pack of fools, and fools cannot suffer the truly great without shame, embarrassment, and fear--none of which will stifle my son any further. Obi Edolasim is hereby withdrawn from your “school” for he has learned all he can from you: that those who push you away, push you to greater heights. Sincerely, Mrs. & Mr. Edolasim.
Eavesdroppin’ A Line BP Level 63	Houndy! Y’know I woulda said this to yer face but I can’t catch ya at a good time, so here goes...y’alright? Don't take two eyes to see your planet bein in a bad way is hittin you hard. I’d be feelin raw about it too, if I was in your boots--which you probably made here on Talos. Yer boots are cool as, by the by. Look, I don’t know what yer goin thru, but I do know ya ain’t gotta go thru it alone. I’m around if ya need a stainless steel shoulder to lean on. Or a flesh and blood one. Whichever shoulder ain’t passin ya a coldie, ay? Your mate, Fusey. P.S., My handwriting should be better with a robot arm, ay? Looks like my arm got blown off while writin this! Hah! P.P.S., I can write! Who knew!
Lunar Impact Report BP Level 63	Dear Ambassador Achebe, On behalf of Chikuum Meteorological Group, we submit the following findings to the National Alliance of Boreas on the 2708 meteorological collision into Boreas’ moon. SUMMARY OF FINDINGS The rapidly deteriorating condition of our planet’s moon should not be underestimated. Already, we are seeing regular meteor showers on Boreas' surface and atmosphere, disturbing changes in our tides, rising temperatures at our poles and plummeting temperatures at our equator. R&D must begin immediately to create solutions that will slow this progression towards a catastrophic conclusion. A failure to act on the findings below will lead to an unlivable planet in 50-70 years. Our leaders must make it clear that we can no longer rely on blind faith that things will work out--immediate action is our only option.
Biggest Fans BP Level 85	You know what I don’t get? The thing that keeps stabbing into the back of my mind like an ice pick, late at night while the skinbags are snuggled up in their beds? Life was good when I thought I was human. I got up, did my job, had a nightcap, went to sleep. Tick tock. I didn’t remember every time I died down to the last gruesome detail. But I do now, and I want off this ride. Should be easy--I’ve got enough enemies. Hammond was busted up when their peons got smeared across the walls by the big, bad murderbot. And Loba? Goes without saying. But who built the murderbot? Tech like this can’t have been cheap. And Loba—we had a plan. She was gonna kill the last living part of me. She had it in her thieving little hands. But she went and ruined everything, all to keep me alive. I’d laugh, if it didn’t make me want to peel her skin off. So, why? Hammond and Loba say I’m a monster. They’re right. But they’re twisting themselves into knots to keep the monster alive. Hate me? Heh. They’re my biggest fans.
Not So Far From The Tree BP Level 87	Tap Transcript -- RP_OBC_GAEA_2217.010.014.2734 SP: Hello, app kaun bol rahe hain? RP: Mum, it’s me. Did ya see the match? SP: We’re so proud, meri jaan. So proud, your fool of a father bought all your merchandise. T-shirt. Hat. Slippers. Even the little doll of you-- RP: Not a “doll,” mum. It’s an action figure-- MP: Oye! Don’t correct your mother or she’ll regret finding you at the dump... RP: [laughs] Bloody hell! What a cheek! It wasn’t a dump, it was a junkyard. It’s why I only make posh crap. MP: Ramya. Can you get me an autograph from Seer? You’re friends so it’s not a big deal... RP: Bilkul, dad, but first: you haven’t gotten any, like, threatening calls lately? From someone named Francis? SP: No, Ramya. No calls like that. Tsk. I thought you were done with those sisters people. RP: Oh I am, mum, but they might not be done with me-- SP: It’s not for the child to worry about the parent, Ramya. Papa and I can deal with low-rent crooks. RP: I know, mum, I kno-- End of transcript.
Dear Diary BP Level 95	Thursday, June 20, 2725 Tonight, something happened. I am found! They say that happiness is not perfected until shared, but I fear I cannot share this great news with nne na nna’m--they will worry. ...So I just have these pages. I am bursting. I saw something tonight. I saw a place where I can be me—more than me. It was in the old Okonkwo warehouse, deep below. Fate reached out to me tonight, something drew me to a place that wasn’t meant to be seen except by those looking for it—the Arenas. First, let us get this out of the way...it is a brutal sport. But the theatrics, the outfits, the personas...where there is violence, there is beauty. These people embellish who they are, yet express some deeper truth about themselves. Tonight, I came home with bruises and scrapes, but that is not unordinary. What is unusual is tonight...I felt like I belong. I have never known that feeling. I must follow it...
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