Nihil, seventh son of the black womb, was dying. Hundreds of thousands of years of suffering his self imposed murder were bearing the fruits of his labor. No more would he suffer, unknown to all but his brothers, and unloved by all. At the bottom of a long collapsed crevasse, where is now an ocean, he still clutched the piece of the Mother Oak that remained in the gaping wound that was his still beating heart.

Thump. Thump... thump... ....th....

All of the memories came rushing back to Nihil. Every time he failed, every snide remark, every time he was the disappointment, the joke, the nothing. As the memories played out, they too left him to die. Why was he holding a piece of wood? Why did he hurt so?

... ump...

The tons upon tons of rock finally fell just those few inches. Sedimentary rock shelves slipped against one another along the ancient fault line that was the Equiridias Trench. One plate slipped East and up, the other moved south and down, yielding a massive oceanic earthquake. The resulting tsunami was devastating when it finally reached the coastlines.

Emish felt it, his brother had finally died. The dream was too much, even for he, who had seen every horrible thing their species had done. The bottle in his nightstand helped him return to sleep that night. Of all the wretched, evil things that Emish had seen and done, his brothers death shook him worse than the Reiclergy War and its fallout had.

--------------------------------------

"Roughly thirteen or fourteen years ago, there was a massive earthquake that resulted in the Kragtaklov Tsunami incident. This is Advanced Archeology Three, what does a relatively recent tsunami have to do with it?" Doctor Chivack, PhD and Archaeology Professor, paused for an answer.

There was no answer. There was something muttered from the back, but that didn't count as a clear, concise answer. Doctor Chivack took in stride that they likely had no clue, and continued. "While modern events typically fall outside of the archeological wheelhouse, as it were, sometimes modern events bring us things from the past. Anyone know why we are here, in a dusty warehouse instead of the lecture hall or the field?"

Doctor Chivack was letting the false pause run a bit long after the rhetorical question, but before he could continue, someone answered.

"Is it because the tsunami in question washed up or otherwise revealed something that nobody really even looked for, that may be in part, in whole, or in reference contained within said presented warehouse or on or near to the premises of said warehouse. With the intent of this trip being for us to attempt to gain any insight of any kind from said object or objects whether or not they have meaning at all, in any context?"

Doctor Chivack paused his step for a brief moment before resuming his pace and replying.

"For one, that is correct. For two, despite being correct, you're a jackass. Despite being intelligent, you're taking this course just to pad out the required credits for your doctorates because you didn't want to have to write music, dance, or participate in sports."

"Correct, but mostly to get it over with as quickly as possible so that people have to show at least a little respect for the inventor of the slip drive."

"And there it is. You could have gone so many different ways to that end, but choose the route that takes you the least effort."

"I work two jobs, put up with my families royal bullshit, and make top marks just for it to be tossed back in my face by people like you whom consider it easy for me. Just wait until you have to start calling me doctor, doctor."

"You see, I know it is easier for you, earning it through friendship and trust would be the hard way for you."

"The easiest way would've been playing dumb and waiting out the timer until I was thirty and throwing my chances of becoming successor out like my sister did."

It didn't take much longer to reach their destination at the back of the warehouse. There it sat upon two large, steel supports, surrounded by data printouts from every test imaginable and what all was gleaned by previous researchers. It was a very large, half fossilized... log. A large, semi-petrified log of an unknown deciduous tree, that washed up with the tsunami. It was sharpened and capped with an unknown metal at one end.

"A giant stake? What the everlasting f" Costan was cut off by an elbow that missed, going completely over his head.

The war caste individuals were almost always bigger than the normal folk, and mostly on par with the noble caste hight wise. This twent two year old, war caste, chalk huffing, meat head quarterback was far from the pinnacle of the caste. He was a living stereotype, but he wasn't as stupid as he behaved. He wouldn't have been in any advanced courses, or college at all, if he were truly that stupid. The lugs brain just worked... differently. Karkar was also Costans roommate, being tolerated and tutored by Costan in trade for "not tellin everyone about your weird sciencey stuffs", picking up half of the rent, and the utilities.

Costan did have a lot of weird experimental gadgetry that wouldn't go over well with the noble caste, common caste, and possibly not even with the war caste. One or more such things would probably be readily snatched up and secreted away by whoever got to them first. Being able to hear and see through space at rates exceeding universal expansion by multiple factors was likely something that could get him silenced, killed, or otherwise disappeared.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Look, we were all thinking that, but I don't wanna be haunted by the dreams of ancient giant vampires or nothin like that, because stakes have to stay put or else they come back Costan."

Karkar had Costan by the shoulders, shaking the young heir out of paranoia of the paranormal. "It's like that movie where Neelee was tricked into becoming a vampire and killed himself, man."

"Karkar, think. What was that movie's plot?"

"The Last Sighting of Nihil. It's about how the least renowned mythological guy died to not kill everyone after he made the gods angry. He looked back in time, saw something he shouldn't, and replicated it. Then the lady he secretly had the hots for started turning everyone into zombies, but that was all an illusion to trick him. Then the gods made him a vampire and he made a stake of Godgy wood from the heart of the Mother Oak, capped with Hongdite and staked himself in the heart while his brothers watched."

"That sounds like a half-baked fever dream from someone watching too many horror films and reading mythology cliff notes, and it's pronounced Nihil, not Neelee. But, if you want to live that fantasy, let's go find out if it has anything in common."

"I... I guess, if it is, people need to know..." Karkar was shaking in fear over nothing, just like every time he watched a horror movie.

"Alright, you two, feel free to cobble together a fresh, new conspiracy theory while the rest of us turn up some actually useful data." Doctor Chivack's tone was mocking.

"Well, Karkar, go look for any markings that are outside the pattern of the wood grain and try not to lick it. I'm going to start going through the piles of data, maybe someone just forgot to note what their tests actually concluded."

A few hours later, and they turned up some results. Not scientifically groundbreaking, but results.

"Hey, Costan, anything on what type of wood from the other eggheads?"

"Specifically, no, only that it's genetically close to the Godgy."

"Yep, it tastes like it. Just with sea salt instead of the poisonous stuff from the dead layer of lake Oshped, and it taste fresher too with a hint of titanium nitrite. Probably still has sap in it." Everyone stopped and looked at Karkar, as he gave the nonpetrified portion another lick, for confirmation. "Also, the lack of tool marks and the current presence of bark would suggest that they just capped the end as it was, may be something on the lump up there, but I'm not tall enough to see."

"That is in line for their previous findings." Costan put down the papers he had been scanning through then pulled some things out of his backpack. A few sheets of loose paper, but he was lacking the other thing he needed. Then he remembered that he never carried charcoal, graphite sticks, chalk, or chromowaxes, but he knew someone who did.

Taking some sheets of paper over to Karkar, who was inspecting the fitment of the pointy metal cap, Costan was about to ask a question that would make everyone rethink whether either of them were mature enough for college. "Got any chromowaxes?" Costan knew he had some, he kept chromowaxes, it was just the variety of dubious responses that could come out of Karkar.

"Yeah, but this is no time to sit down for arts and crafts. We gotta figure out what this thing is. While I suspect it's a stake used on a giant vampire, it could be a broken bridge pylon. Given that geologists and climatologists both agree that at one point the Equiridias Trench was once a massive gorge on land, that the massive earthquake what caused the tsunami originated there, and the sturdy and roughly hewn nature of it point to sheer need of utility. So, two theories and no answers."

"Very astute, but I was going to use a few pieces of paper to get a texture image using one of the chromowaxes that I know you have."

"Texture image, is that some sort of advanced techy thingy?"

One of the other students took interest in the conversation. "No, it's a very old technique. Commonly referred to as taking a rubbing"

"Ew, gross, you're only twelve and the public is no place"

SMACK

Cefna cleared her throat before continuing to speak, while keeping a backhand readied for Karkar. "Now it works by putting the paper on a surface and drawing a flat coloring agent over it. This leaves an image of the texture on the paper while not coloring the object. Yes, it is called taking a rubbing of something. No, it is not inappropriate. It is still used in many fields of work due to being more available than fine strategic laser patterning. Now give him a Chromon and lift him up there so we can all see if there is anything of note, if you carry such things."

With that, Karkar pulled the twenty four count package of Chromon Trade Mark purple number threes, two were missing and one looked like someone bit off half of it. Karkar knew what he did to those chromowaxes, Costan knew as well. Neither spoke about how Karkar ate chromowaxes, he was in an accredited university that churned out doctors and lawyers. Nobody outside the known needed to know.

Costan accepted the proffered chromowax, an unnibbled one, and was lifted up onto the sharpened log. He quickly assessed that nothing stood out, but started the process.

"Nothing stands out to eye, but I'm taking a texture image anyway."

Karkar had moved on to give a petrified portion a lick.

"It's called a rubbing." Cefna grinned.

"I'm not calling it that, Karkar wouldn't let it pass without a joke."

"Hehehe, take a rubbing."

SMACK

As predicted, the image had something.

"Alright, we got something, I think I got all of it transferred. Come get me down."

Karkar was trying to decipher the taste of the metal as he went to retrieve Costan.

"I finally placed where I tasted that metal. My uncle was in the Space Force and gave me this rock that he called a Tenibreote micro asteroid, that's the same metal!"

Everyone stopped, dead in whatever they were doing, for possibly the tenth time that day. Nobody expected anything new to be learned from "those two" and their "shenanigans". The proof, however, was there. The rubbings showed a series of combinations of characters, definitely not random tool markings or weathering. But what did it say?

Furthermore, an identification of the metal was promising, if unconventional. Markings on it, two new theories, and supporting conclusions of two material components were all enough for the class to get recommendations. It would have seemed more official if it had been through less archaic and... eclectic means, but science is the use of senses to observe to prove something wrong with the hopes that it is or is not true. All the overarching credit would go to Doctor Chivack PhD, but he would never admit to personally licking an artifact.