Sci Fi

Doomsday Clock: Why the World Is Closer Than Ever to Global Catastrophe
Doomsday Clock: Why the World Is Closer Than Ever to Global Catastrophe The **Doomsday Clock** is a powerful symbolic representation of how close humanity is to a self-inflicted global disaster. Created to communicate complex scientific and geopolitical risks in a simple visual form, the clock has become a widely recognized indicator of global instability. Midnight on the clock represents total catastrophe, while the movement of its hands reflects expert assessments of existential threats facing the world.
By America today about a month ago in Fiction
One Unchecked Box. Top Story - October 2024.
"Republished" because it was the only way to add the embed for the newly recorded audio version of this story due to the Top Story badge. Plus it serves as a nice, informal announcement of the podcast's revival for another season (go subscribe!):
By Stephen A. Roddewigabout a month ago in Fiction
Captain Michael and the Horn of Logan
“I am King David the Magnificent. The Great and Powerful. Ruler over all that is in front of me, all that is behind me. All that is to the north, south, east, and west of me. Why have you come before my great presence? Make your request now. If it sounds pleasant to my ears, I might consider granting you your request. If not, you will be fed to the lions.”
By David E. Perryabout a month ago in Fiction
Strange Infomercial
*TELEVISION BLIP* The salesman walks slow, stiff with borrowed confidence and an odd-colored suit. "What are you in the market for?"
By Kristen Keenon Fisherabout a month ago in Fiction
The One Who Stayed in the Dream
1 It started with the dream. Every night, I saw him. It was always the same. A boy with dark hair and calm eyes, sitting across from me at a café that doesn’t exist. The walls were pale yellow, the windows fogged from the rain outside, and there was always jazz playing softly in the background.
By Yamuni Kaijumiabout a month ago in Fiction
Chrome Hearts. Honorable Mention in Mismatch Challenge.
The cowboy hat draped over one eye was black leather, scuffed and worn, like it’d seen some things, but the leg peeking through the lace slit of her skirt was brand new, chrome plated titanium, fastened together with countersunk bolts. Whoever she was, she was special. Or used to be.
By Faris Lannonabout a month ago in Fiction
Layer of Permission
The first thing Mara noticed was that no one ever said no anymore. They said not available, pending review, outside your tier, not at this time; you know when the words were polite. Bloodless. They floated past her like customer service ghosts.
By Cadmaabout a month ago in Fiction
Lurking Behind The Stars
For many who live on the planet Earth, one of the most mysterious and magnificent wonders of life is the sky; limitless, always changing, and filled with so many things that so many of us will never see.
By EFHLabout a month ago in Fiction
I am you ?
DARK is not just a series; it’s a state of mind. When I started watching it, I honestly thought I was mentally clear and sorted. That confidence didn’t last long. If you feel very sure about how life works, watching DARK slowly dismantles that certainty. And if you are already a little confused about life, this show doesn’t make things easier either. Yet, strangely, no matter how lost or mentally exhausted you feel, you don’t stop watching. I didn’t. There is something about DARK that keeps pulling you back even when your head feels heavy, because it is genuinely worth the effort. What surprised me the most was discovering that the writer of this series is Jantje Friese. I had to pause there. A woman writing a time-travel science fiction story with this level of depth, structure, and attention to detail felt both surprising and deeply impressive. Time travel mixed with science fiction, philosophy, and extreme detailing has been attempted before, but I personally haven’t seen it executed this precisely anywhere else. Time-travel stories usually bend logic when it becomes inconvenient, but DARK does the opposite. It pushes logic to its limits. The story moves across timelines like 1888, 1953, 1986, 2019, and 2053, while also introducing parallel worlds that exist side by side. Every action has a consequence, and every consequence triggers another event, creating a continuous chain reaction that drives the narrative forward. At some point, I stopped trying to perfectly track every timeline and simply let the story unfold, and that’s when it became overwhelming in the best way. Each major character exists in three versions: young, middle-aged, and old, and this happens across both worlds. Characters deceive others, deceive themselves, and relationships become tangled in ways that time itself cannot easily fix. There were moments when I had to stop and think, and moments I am still not sure I fully understand, but that uncertainty feels intentional. The familiar story of Adam and Eva, usually seen as heroic figures, is completely reversed here. In DARK, they are lovers and enemies at the same time, fighting to protect their own version of reality even if it means destroying another. Just writing about it makes my head spin, and imagining how someone even conceived this story feels unreal. My only real disappointment was the budget. If DARK had the scale and visual resources of shows like Stranger Things or Squid Game, it could have been even more visually terrifying. But what stayed with me after finishing the series was not the science fiction itself; it was a question. We often say we shouldn’t trust anyone and that we only have ourselves. But what if time challenges that belief? What if, as time moves forward, the person we cannot trust anymore is not someone else but ourselves? So here is a question I keep thinking about: if your older self met your younger self and they refused to believe you, what is the one thing you would say to make them trust that you are truly them?
By Agilaabout a month ago in Fiction
The Yield Curve
The Banker’s hands trembled violently as the transport shuttle cut through the unrelenting dark. He told himself it was the deceleration meds, but down deep he knew it wasn’t. The hand tremors had started weeks ago, just after the last audit – the one where three clients had defaulted and subsequently vanished.
By S.E.Linnabout a month ago in Fiction
Memory Banks
"...beep..." "Can you hear me?" "...beep..." "Can you hear me?" "Yes...wh...where am I?" "You're home." "What is my name?"
By A. S. Lawrenceabout a month ago in Fiction
Ancestral Star Dust
“I remember you. Just barely though.” “And I remember you, my child. You were just a small thing when I left, ludic in beads in barrettes.”
By Paris Gilesabout a month ago in Fiction