On mobile, so sorry for the errors.

Edward and Mitchell were sitting on a park bench. They were watching the sun begin to drop below the treeline enjoying the breeze.

"Hey, guys, sorry I took so long." William walked up with his dog on the leash. "The line at the can was real, this time." Arno was sniffing away looking for her place to sit. She laid down after William squeezed into his customary spot on the bench.

After a few minutes of the quiet, William muttered, "It's windy.."

Thanks to the wind, Edward didn't quite hear him. "No, it's Thursdee."

Mitchell said a little too loudly, "Me too, let's go get some beers!"

It looks like the people with vampiric S.O.'s have the best time adjusting. Night shift can suck, but it can be adjusted to better than the grief of a farewell to the mermaid. Or worse, the bitterness at having to lock away the one you love because they turn into a true, bloodthirsty, murderous menace to society.

I think I have a new item for D&D games. I love this concept, and the wizard just wishing for a decent cuppa joe was the perfect way to end this.

Now the question is, when the wishmaker gets their wish, what happens to the key?

Well, maybe not Tyranids. By the lore, it's the hive queens that cause the tyranid to make them fight beyond DESTROY ALL LIFE. They are a real plague upon the galaxy. An ork snotling with squigs to act as the local garbage dump? That makes a little more sense. Orks are a little better at seeing sense.

There's also the Adeptus Sororitas, and of course the Adeptus Militarum, two very prominent "departments" of the Imperium.

I'm clearly not the first nerd to facepalm when I saw this prompt. However, your language is incorrect. They would be the Adeptus Anomalie, not the Imperium Anomalie. The second implies they are on par with the Emperor, while the first shows the Adeptus (like the Adeptus Assassinorum) as a department.

Wow. This, this right here, is a Trolley Man. Someone who knows the stakes, and has seen what happens if things as they are get allowed their due course. Good on you, sir!

Pretty good, but the story seems incomplete. Something like this also needs a tale of inaction. The Trolley Man needs to know that if things run their course with no action, the deaths would be a result of inaction. In other words, reality runs its course.

This. This is how you subvert expectations.

Armchair biblical scholar here. Liked the story. Funny, but since he's talking to a now five-year-old table, he would have no reason to know who Judas was given that Christ was conducting his ministry for around that amount of time before the Levites had their way with him. Rome was just the tool the priests used.

We were in our early twenties, newly wed. She was the love of my life, except she's now dead. We were on our honeymoon down in Hawaii, nothing could have been better, until I heard the smash of glass in our hotel room. Being in the shower when the glass smashed, I wasn't able to see what happened. Most eerie of all, was there was no scream. She told me she was going to the ABC store to get some munchies before we went to the memorial, and I said I would go clean up, first. Well, broad daylight witnesses had a body being thrown from the room, with me in said room by myself at the time.

The police were there soon after, and arrangements were made for me to see trial in California (home state) with the results to be sent back to the Equus Hotel so they could pursue damages. I took my lawyer's advice and didn't say a thing.

Pronounced Guilty of Murder One. Didn't say a thing.

Prison let me use the computer for fifteen minutes, didn't say a thing.

Looked up my "home life" from the terminal, and saw my friend got married. Good for him, but his wife looked oddly familiar. Didn't say a thing.

Looked up the murder in Honolulu, followed further research. It said local girls came up missing, and pictures were provided in memoriam, one of which was "local" in the looser sense according to Polynesian locals. She also looked awfully familiar. Didn't say a thing.

Finally, I was paroled. The quiet, well-behaved inmate who creeped out his cellmates simply by remaining silent, but there was nothing against keeping your mouth shut. I maintained the quiet act with my parole officer as well, finally calling my lawyer after getting settled. Thank God the Kwik Service hadn't yanked the payphone yet, but damn it got expensive.

Eighteen years gone, I said the first thing I knew to. "Hey, Rob, it's Mike." Wow, my voice was hoarse.

"Mike.. Mike..." I could actually hear him rolling the name over. A gasp. "Holy fuck, Mike! I thought you were dead! How've you been?!"

"Been better. Been bitter. We both know I didn't do it." Better and bitter made me sound redundant, but it doesn't matter.

"Yeah, you told me. I'm sorry I couldn't get you off. You must have clammed up completely, right? You sound like a 20-year chain smoker."

No denying that. We exchanged further pleasantries, then his news. He was my best friend, as well as my lawyer. Despite taking on my murder case, his practice flourished. He transitioned to practicing as a prosecutor as well as defense attorney, making it clear he would only prosecute if it was right. Lost half of those cases as the defense attorneys he went up against only had to not fuck it up.

It finally came to the point where my friendship with him would be more than simply strained. "She's alive, you know."

Silence. A good thirty seconds later, he finally broke it. "Dude, she's dead. Been dead for almost twenty years. You were in Folsom because of this."

"Did you help Eddie move down to San Fran?" I think my voice is coming to normal, but that may be my brain futzing with me. It's been almost twenty years since I've used it, like Rob pointed out. We all lived in Sacramento back then, and Rob chose to stay. He said the legal politics were too intense in San Francisco, but Sac was better for his career. He was right, though.

"Mike, as your lawyer, I need to ask you some questions. If I know you, your phone isn't monitored, right?"

I jingled the change I had left next to the microphone. "You know that the Kwik Service hasn't pulled the payphone yet?"

"OK. I didn't know that. Next question, are you going to let this go?"

I finally dropped the big bombshell I had been sitting on. "Rob, I need your help, and I mean big. Bigger than even the trial. Ever heard of double jeopardy?"

As a Christian, this story leaves me torn. On the one hand, the one simply known as the Deceiver wishes to elevate himself above his Creator, while the other had made man in His image. Part of that was finally going hands off to let humanity run its course. Fundamentally, though, they're both right. We as a species need to get our collective heads out of our collective asses.

Plus, your username checks out. My hat's off to you, good sir. (If I misgendered you, I apologize, and will address the pronoun accordingly should you see fit to correct me.)