It's nearly midnight here in the cardiac monitoring ward - Spikevax is a bit of a bitch about that myocarditis issue, and it only just now as I write this occurs to me that my current circumstances are harboring a very slight reality rhyme with current story events, that's pretty amusing.
Anyway. Thank you
@TaliesinSkye from the bottom of my slightly degraded heart for having been writing this wonderful never-the-genre-you-think-it-is story for this long, and I pray you keep going for as long as it asks of you.
As usual, when I read this, I smiled. I wept. I wanted to laugh, but older and frailer people are sleeping. At the end, I felt a profound satisfaction. The mystery has been a long time coming, and I haven't spent so much energy guessing it that I got more than half of it right, and the reveals felt consummate.
I enjoy Scientia for its character, ideology, its mystery and its genuine cleverness. The meta-jokes arrive exactly when they need to, and it's delightful where in lesser hands the fourth wall gets removed with the professionalism and proportionality of some guy with a YouTube account and access to far more dynamite than any five year old ought to.
I've read a lot of the classics, both the foundational and the modern. Certainly no single trope, codified or not, is one I haven't at least seen the shadow of somewhere else, though the configurations are novel enough to entertain this 34-year-old with an excessive taste for questionable genre fiction. There's an analogy here to the speech Scientia-the-character receives about her own unique configuration of the skills explicitly donated from others, and the inherent value therein. If you neither intended nor recognized it, you're welcome, it's the truth.