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Hello, everyone. It's me, Dani. :-)
I'm the 42-year-old sibling/anime nerd/writer, who's trying to care for my 57-year-old brother named Rob with a brain tumor and a badly infected leg (due to diabetes, thanks to the brain tumor). Along with my sister, Ace, who is the true rockstar and angel in all of this. And Rob's wife is a SAINT! She's put up with this madness for over a year and deserves all of the flowers possible! =p
So, it's been *checks notes* NINE days since I made my first post here, which started out with me venting about the horrible state of Rob's leg, the difficulty in changing his bandages (and peeling chunks of his skin away in the process, because the infection was THAT BAD!), about me going into a room to silent cry after those changings - before putting on a happy face again and approaching Rob with empathy and compassion again.
And just like the erosion of his leg, so is the state of our sibling relationship - as I've reached the point of screaming, cursing him out, and blocking phone calls altogether from Rob! I'll explain...
So, Ace took him to the best VA hospital in the Twin Cities of Minnesota. Once the medical staff saw the state of his leg, they IMMEDIATELY admitted him and set up a whole team of specialists for him. Two wound-care specialists, a new endocrinologist, a GP (that Rob loved and kept praising a lot), a head nurse named, uh... let's call him Calvin - that took to him as a fellow ex-soldier himself, a psychologist (as he voiced that he was feeling a lot of anxiety and wanted to talk with someone), a social worker, and a group of nurses to tend to his every need and whim.
This dream-team would football huddle together and work quickly with the goal to save Rob's leg from being amputated from the knee, as that was a real possibility on the table. (Keep in mind, this isn't on his Veteran benefits - no, it's on his wife's private insurance). And the treatments were super effective, with every one of his doctors pretty much giving the green light that he'd likely be released from the hospital by Monday. Meaning the Monday that's already passed now...
By Saturday, Rob decided, "My leg is healed enough! I want to go home!" He meant that he wanted to go back to our apartment for my sister and me to resume playing nurse-maid to him. Every doctor was adamant in their professional opinion that it would be unwise for him to leave the hospital in the middle of the treatment that will save his leg! So many times, the phrases "not recommended" or "I wouldn't recommend it" was repeated by every doctor and specialist. They would tell Rob this directly and oftentimes with Ace in the room to witness it.
Somehow, Rob heard, "Something-something... you can go home now if you want to." Every. Single. Time. And when Ace went home from her visit with him, he'd get the doctor to get on his phone, to relay to Ace that he can skip out on his treatment, but the doctor would repeat over the phone, "I don't recommend that your brother signs out of treatment prematurely, in my professional opinion." Then Rob would take the phone back and shout to my sister, as if he was vindicated, "You see? Doctor says I can go home!"
Calvin tried to warn him, "If you leave this hospital, you'll lose the leg for certain!" Rob tried to argue with the head nurse that his leg wasn't that bad, so Calvin stated the truth, "Dude, I can smell the infection, as we speak." I had experienced that smell for two days before he went into the VA... it smells of rotting flesh! No lie or "no cap" as the kids say these days.
Rob got angry and decided that it was all his wife's fault that he was losing his leg. He called her up on the phone, screaming at her, and asking for a divorce, as poor Ace tried to calm him down. His wife's account was, that she gave him his antibiotics - he refused to take them and the infection got worse. And that's an observable truth, as Rob has a habit of not taking his medication when he's at home and it's left up to him to do. And, he's too prideful to let anyone else manage his medications for him.
Either that or too paranoid. I don't really know.
Before Saturday, on Friday, Rob decided that Calvin was at fault and should be fired. He blamed Calvin for "lying" to him about the risk of losing his leg, deciding that it was never that serious at all, and that Calvin was purposely trying to get him to divorce his wife. And then, more bizarre conspiracy theories against the hospital and staff occurred. (see the previous post, if you're curious.)
So, it's been days of nonstop gaslighting and emotional blackmailing from Rob! And... for some crazy reason, he believes I'm the "weakest link" (even though, Ace has openly admitted that she's the weaker of the two of us and has been leaning on me for support to not cave into his mind-games), and his presumption that he's somehow "smarter" than me and that he can easily get his way from me only pisses me off MORE so! :(
And the worse thing is - the leg thing is situated now... It's not great, but they managed to stop the infection. Rob took it upon himself to flood my phone with photos of his bloody mess of a leg, to "prove" to me that his leg is fine. Even though it looks like a shriveled and dead tree limb with huge gaping bloody wounds, that are actively staining the white linens within the photo. Yes, there is no more liquid and pus, just lots of blood flowing now, but... Seriously, any special effect artist would be PROUD to recreate the way his "leg" looks now, for any horror movie!
BUT, on Sunday, his brain tumor swelled up so much that his eye is drooping, because it is pressing on the optical nerve. Rob's vision is impaired by the tumor and the surgeon wishes to schedule him for brain surgery as soon as possible. They're trying to get a spot for him in the OR and everything set up, but... you know, COVID, so the systems are still bogged down, and the soonest they could get it was in a few days from now. He has to STAY for a few more days to get the brain surgery that he most certainly needs.
And he will... because he has no other choice. =p
In my last post, I explained that Ace and I set an ultimatum to him - if he signs out AMA, he'll have to figure out on his own how to get back to our apartment and how he's going to climb the stairs to the second floor alone. Fat chance of him being successful at either - because he's too weak to sit up on his own, let alone stand on two legs without any help, and he's not been in Minnesota long enough to learn how to travel it yet. (FYI, we're far away from the hospital, in a suburban town many miles away! And he doesn't have any money to pay for that kind of cab fare, even if he wanted to!)
Ace and I are doing a little "tough love", refusing to take him out of medical care, which would be actively helping him to die on our sofa if we did. Nope.
His wife is in FULL and EAGER agreement with this too, along with Rob's social worker as well. The social worker will speak to his new GP about getting a psych eval for him (because the doctor that he praised so much before was harassed and driven up a wall so much - he switched rotation to another floor, just so Rob could stop insisting that he speak with Ace on the phone several times a day and say that it's okay for him to leave the hospital with a huge swollen BRAIN TUMOR in his head!!!)
It's okay... I'm taking a breath. LOL.
So... in order to stop getting his gore-fest photos and his constant calls, still trying to convince me that I'm a better nurse to him than, you know, nurses who went through medical training and all. And trying to hit every pain point in me to get me to cave into what he wants, I blocked his number. Leading up to the blocking, I DID blow up at him on Monday and shouted, "No, you listen to me! Your leg is f**king falling apart! I was peeling off your skin, every time I changed the bandages! Why do you think I'd immediately go back to my room, every time? I went to my room to CRY!" Rob paused, but he didn't care at all, he continued to argue that his leg was NEVER that bad and now that the infection was gone, he should come home... ignoring the swelling BRAIN TUMOR!!!!
I had enough and erupted with, "You're not going to manipulate me, you mother****er!!!" I don't use that swear, usually, as it was my mother's favorite swear. Perhaps, I was channeling a bit of her short temper, at that moment.
Then Rob tried to argue that I can't see very well (trying to use my eye condition against me - I am visually impaired with Keratoconus, yet in my constant blurred vision, I could see his skin sloughing off his wounds anyway. And so did my sister, who isn't visually impaired... nor were his doctors who were shocked and stunned at the state of his leg too, and poor Calvin the head nurse too), that I was seeing his leg "wrong" and "imagining things"... and that's when I hung up and blocked him.
For the past two days... of blissful peace! XD
I went about my day and life as usual while checking in on my sister, from time to time, who was still taking his calls and being driven up a wall.
And the phone block on Rob should have remained...
Tonight, he used the nurse's desk phone to contact me and leave a message on my voicemail. Before he went into the hospital, I had happily presented him with a "house-warming gift". You see, I suffer from PTSD and night terrors (will not get too much into that, just mentioning it for clarity's sake), and my sister bought me a tank with osculating jellyfish in it, to help me sleep better at night. It's a lot pretty, and calming, and it does help me out a lot.
When Rob came to visit us the first time (in far better health than he is currently in and not at all the asshole that we know him to be as now - I know, I know... it's the tumor.), he saw it and thought it was the coolest thing ever. So, I asked my sister to send the link to where she bought the tank, so I that could buy one for Rob when he came back to live with us/seek medical treatment in Minnesota. (That was THE PLAN, after all, that Rob would move in with us for a while and seek medical care here in Minnesota, as he said that our state had better doctors here than in Maryland.)
So tonight, Rob decided to leave me a message, saying that he was sorry and that if he was to go back to Maryland - would it be okay if he took along the jellyfish gift with him? No matter how much of an asshole someone is to me, a gift is a gift. I don't take back gifts, NOT EVER. That's not my style at all. And so, I took him off the phone block to text him just that. Word-for-word.
He wrote back - his words jumbled and misspelled heavily, because of his vision impairments, that was along the lines of "I know that you hate me now." And I replied back, "I don't hate you. I'm just not willing to put up with emotional blackmail bullshit." So then he called me and I kind of KNEW it was a bad mistake to answer, but I did answer...
Immediately, he tried to convince me that he can come home now because there was a "scheduling error" and the doctors said that he can leave for two days and come back for the brain surgery this weekend! This began a shouting match between him and me! LOL! Ace had talked to the doctors and social worker YESTERDAY, who said no such thing. And they keep stressing, if Rob leaves now, it will take at least three whole weeks before he would be able to get in brain surgery. Because, COVID, things are stressed and short-staffed in every hospital.
He will not last that long. He will either die of starvation (as he's not eating meals - and that's not anything new. Ace and I noticed that for a while now, before he went to the hospital, and had asked his wife about it too. She confirmed that Rob wasn't eating much in Maryland either. It may be time for a feeding tube to be introduced soon), or the pressure of the tumor may cause him to have a fatal stroke or other grizzly brain horrors and he'll die on our sofa.
I said to him (and please excuse my swears), "Stop being such a bitch-baby and stay for the surgery!" And he grumbled, "Stop calling me a bitch-baby..." And I literally punched the air, because I was so pissed off, and I snarled, "Okay, I will when you STOP acting like one!!!" Then I realized that I was screaming my head off past midnight, caught myself, and said, "You know what? Ace is in the next room, trying to get some sleep, so she can work in the morning... I'm NOT doing this with you, Rob!"
Then he asked, "B-but... do you still love me, as your brother?" I answered, "Yes, I love you, Rob... even though you're f**king nuts right now!" And he sulked, "I'm not f**king nuts..." Then he said, "Okay, I'll let you and your sister rest tonight then." And... he's back on phone block. I don't think I'll unblock him until AFTER his brain surgery. =p
Fool me once...
Anyway, sorry for this crazy long post! I did try to edit it down, but... so much has happened in the last... *checks notes again* OMG! TWO DAYS, since I last posted here. Seesh! :(
I'll update - AFTER Rob has gone through surgery and is situated. I just needed to vent and blow off some steam... at, currently, 4:30 AM in the morning. I'm hoping that this long af post was at least a little entertaining and provided a few chuckles, at the very least. ;-)
Be excellent to each other. And peace out!

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Introduction
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GN Group of Institutes offers B.Tech programs in Civil, Computer Science, Mechanical Engineering, Information Technology and Artificial Intelligence. The programs are designed to provide students with the skills and knowledge they need to succeed in the engineering field.
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GN Group of Institutes offers world-class facilities and infrastructure.
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The college also has a medical center, which provides medical assistance to students, faculty, and staff. The center is well-equipped with modern facilities and has qualified doctors and paramedical staff.
To help students gain corporate exposure, the college organizes regular seminars, conferences, and guest lectures by eminent industry professionals. These events create an opportunity for the students to interact with corporate leaders and learn the nuances of corporate culture. The college also organizes industrial visits to help students understand the industry dynamics and gain practical insights.
Overall, GN Group of Institutes is one of the best engineering colleges in Greater Noida, with excellent facilities and infrastructure to facilitate holistic student development.
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Admission Process for B.Tech in GN Group of Institutes
If you are interested in enrolling for the B.Tech programs at GN Group of Institutes, then you can apply through both online and offline mode. For admission in any of the B.Tech programs, applicants must have passed the 10+2 exam with Physics, Chemistry and Mathematics as compulsory subjects from a recognized board of education. Depending on the specializations opted for by the candidate, an aptitude test also needs to be taken as a part of the admission process. Additionally, a personal interview is conducted to verify the eligibility criteria for admissions. All these processes ensure that candidates fulfill all the requirements needed for entry into one of the best engineering colleges in Greater Noida.
This Institutes also offer the direct admission in engineering colleges in Noida for those candidates without having to go through the aptitude test and the selection process. To avail of this, certain requirements vary from institute to institute. Some accept direct admission if candidates have a minimum of 80% aggregate in class 10th and 12th, or 90% in PCM. In some cases, percentage conversion of marks from the respective boards are done to avail direct admission. Moreover, for candidates belonging to reserved categories, the institute offers relaxation on the marks required for direct admission.
Why Choose GN Group of Institutes for B.Tech?
If you are looking for the top engineering college in Greater Noida, look no further than GN Group of Institutes. Known for its high-quality education and cutting-edge technology, GN Group of Institutes offers a range of B.Tech programs in Civil, Computer Science, Mechanical Engineering, Information Technology and Artificial Intelligence.
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Conclusion
GN Group of Institutes is a renowned institute for engineering education in the country. It offers 4-year full-time B.Tech programs in various disciplines of engineering. The institute is approved by AICTE and is affiliated with the AKTU (Dr A.P.J. Abdul Kalam Technical University Uttar Pradesh), GGSIPU (Guru Gobind Singh Indraprastha University), and CCS (Chaudhary Charan Singh University ).

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I (F21), my mom, and my grandma had moved away from upstate to live closer to my grandma's family, after the passing of her husband (my grandpa). This occurred before I started going to college, however, it has still made our relationship very difficult to handle, and the situation that I'm about to explain was recently brought up, and made things worse (I will explain later in the post).
After moving to this new city, my grandma faced a very difficult depressive shift in mood, and so did me and my mom. She'd begun taking medication to help face this stress, as well as join a new church group to make new friends. However, the relationship between her, my mom, and myself became very difficult after she started taking this very strong medication. She and my mother would get into several arguments over money because my mother was living there while trying to find a new job.
There was one day when she and my mom got into a small physical altercation, as my grandma called my mother several rude things in relation to how often she dates new men. I was very stressed and scared, so ran off to my room to call 911 about it. I'd had a similar situation happen with another set of relatives and didn't want to just run away and hide like I'd done back then.
A cop came and said to have the two stay at separate places for the time being, but that was pretty much it. My mom left to stay with her bf at the time, and I stayed with my grandma. That night, as I was leaving the kitchen, my grandma stopped and smiled at me as she told me I ruined her life. I was genuinely freaked out and started to cry, and immediately went to leave. She followed me and slammed my door open to yell at me further, and we berated each other for a long time. Several minutes later, she attempted to say, along the lines of "I didn't mean you ruined my LIFE, but you ruined my DAY for calling the cops, and that I didn't mean to call your mom a "wh*re", but someone who dates too much". I didn't believe her, and after she left, I called my mom to take me to my dad's. I wanted to be as far away as possible. I didn't even use the front door to leave so I didn't have to have her see me leave.
Cut to a while later, I'm currently in college and have basically been pretending like that situation never happened. She's stopped taking those meds, but still has trouble being around my mom without a sarcastic argument starting. When I and my grandma decided to hang out one day, that night came up, and she said she literally didn't remember it at all, and blamed it on the meds she was taking. I didn't, and don't believe her, because her tone that night was so clear and vivid, it sounded like the most truthful and honest thing I'd ever heard. I told her I won't forgive her, but I'll forget about it, but she thinks that's very rude of me to do because she's my family and she provides for me all of the time for financial issues. She's right about this, and it's made me second-guess myself.
AITA?

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LPI (LP Information)' newest research report, the “Small Planetary Gearboxes Industry Forecast” looks at past sales and reviews total world Small Planetary Gearboxes sales in 2022, providing a comprehensive analysis by region and market sector of projected Small Planetary Gearboxes sales for 2023 through 2029. With Small Planetary Gearboxes sales broken down by region, market sector and sub-sector, this report provides a detailed analysis in US$ millions of the world Small Planetary Gearboxes industry.
This Insight Report provides a comprehensive analysis of the global Small Planetary Gearboxes landscape and highlights key trends related to product segmentation, company formation, revenue, and market share, latest development, and M&A activity. This report also analyzes the strategies of leading global companies with a focus on Small Planetary Gearboxes portfolios and capabilities, market entry strategies, market positions, and geographic footprints, to better understand these firms' unique position in an accelerating global Small Planetary Gearboxes market.
This Insight Report evaluates the key market trends, drivers, and affecting factors shaping the global outlook for Small Planetary Gearboxes and breaks down the forecast by type, by application, geography, and market size to highlight emerging pockets of opportunity. With a transparent methodology based on hundreds of bottom-up qualitative and quantitative market inputs, this study forecast offers a highly nuanced view of the current state and future trajectory in the global Small Planetary Gearboxes.
This report presents a comprehensive overview, market shares, and growth opportunities of Small Planetary Gearboxes market by product type, application, key manufacturers and key regions and countries.
The global Small Planetary Gearboxesmarket size is projected to grow from US$ 94 million in 2022 to US$ 162.1 million in 2029; it is expected to grow at a CAGR of 162.1 from 2023 to 2029.
https://www.lpinformationdata.com/reports/620149/small-planetary-gearboxes-2029
The main participants
Nidec
Neugart GmbH
Wittenstein SE
Apex Dynamics
KOFON Motion Group
LI-MING Machinery
Newstart
Rouist
STOBER
Harmonic Drive Systems
Ningbo ZhongDa Leader
ZF
Sesame Motor
Sumitomo
PIN HONG TECHNOLOGY
Shanghai Lian Heng Precision Machinery
Shenzhen Zhikong Technology
Segmentation by type
1 Arcmin
3 Arcmin
5 Arcmin
6 Arcmin
8 Arcmin
Others
Segmentation by application
Robotics
Food Processing Machinery
Packaging Machinery
Textile, Printing Machinery
Semiconductor Equipment
Machine Tools
Aerospace
Medical Devices
Engineering Machinery
Others
Key Questions Addressed in this Report
What is the 10-year outlook for the global Small Planetary Gearboxes market?
What factors are driving Small Planetary Gearboxes market growth, globally and by region?
Which technologies are poised for the fastest growth by market and region?
How do Small Planetary Gearboxes market opportunities vary by end market size?
How does Small Planetary Gearboxes break out type, application?
What are the influences of COVID-19 and Russia-Ukraine war?
LP INFORMATION (LPI) is a professional market report publisher based in America, providing high quality market research reports with competitive prices to help decision makers make informed decisions and take strategic actions to achieve excellent outcomes.We have an extensive library of reports on hundreds of technologies.Search for a specific term, or click on an industry to browse our reports by subject. Narrow down your results using our filters or sort by what’s important to you, such as publication date, price, or name.
LP INFORMATION
E-mail: [email protected]
Add: 17890 Castleton St. Suite 369 City of Industry, CA 91748 US
Website: https://www.lpinformationdata.com

I have my medical card for a variety of reasons. PTSD, Anxiety, chronic pain to name a few. I have found strains that help tremendously with PTSD, Anxiety and pain. However... I was curious if any of my fellow MMJ Card Holders have a recommendation for Neuropathy? I have a mix of sciatic and the two nerves that give sensation to the outer part of the upper leg / lower leg and foot. Its actually difficult to tell the difference between the 3 nerves, but a trusted physical therapist helped me realize I have 3 diff nerves affected. The sciatic seems semi stabilized at the moment, but the one that gives touch sensation to the outer part of the upper leg and the other that does the same to the lower leg / foot have been driving me nuts the last month.
Any advice is greatly appreciated! I mostly vape, but I am not against trying any strain in any form if it gets me relief!
TLDR Version: I have Neuropathy on the outside of my upper leg, lower leg and foot.... Looking for a strain in any delivery method that might help!
Edit: Before someone says "check with the pharmacist at your local dispensary", which is advice I give a lot.... I already plan to and will make a purchases based on their recommendations. / those from my favorite reddit group (this one obviously)

LPI (LP Information)' newest research report, the “Planetary Servo Gear Unit Industry Forecast” looks at past sales and reviews total world Planetary Servo Gear Unit sales in 2022, providing a comprehensive analysis by region and market sector of projected Planetary Servo Gear Unit sales for 2023 through 2029. With Planetary Servo Gear Unit sales broken down by region, market sector and sub-sector, this report provides a detailed analysis in US$ millions of the world Planetary Servo Gear Unit industry.
This Insight Report provides a comprehensive analysis of the global Planetary Servo Gear Unit landscape and highlights key trends related to product segmentation, company formation, revenue, and market share, latest development, and M&A activity. This report also analyzes the strategies of leading global companies with a focus on Planetary Servo Gear Unit portfolios and capabilities, market entry strategies, market positions, and geographic footprints, to better understand these firms' unique position in an accelerating global Planetary Servo Gear Unit market.
This Insight Report evaluates the key market trends, drivers, and affecting factors shaping the global outlook for Planetary Servo Gear Unit and breaks down the forecast by type, by application, geography, and market size to highlight emerging pockets of opportunity. With a transparent methodology based on hundreds of bottom-up qualitative and quantitative market inputs, this study forecast offers a highly nuanced view of the current state and future trajectory in the global Planetary Servo Gear Unit.
This report presents a comprehensive overview, market shares, and growth opportunities of Planetary Servo Gear Unit market by product type, application, key manufacturers and key regions and countries.
The global Planetary Servo Gear Unitmarket size is projected to grow from US$ 94 million in 2022 to US$ 162.1 million in 2029; it is expected to grow at a CAGR of 162.1 from 2023 to 2029.
https://www.lpinformationdata.com/reports/620148/planetary-servo-gear-unit-2029
The main participants
Nidec
Neugart GmbH
Wittenstein SE
Apex Dynamics
KOFON Motion Group
LI-MING Machinery
Newstart
Rouist
STOBER
Harmonic Drive Systems
Ningbo ZhongDa Leader
ZF
Sesame Motor
Sumitomo
PIN HONG TECHNOLOGY
Shanghai Lian Heng Precision Machinery
Shenzhen Zhikong Technology
Segmentation by type
Linear Planetary Gearhead
Right Angle Planetary Gearhead
Segmentation by application
Robotics
Food Processing Machinery
Packaging Machinery
Textile, Printing Machinery
Semiconductor Equipment
Machine Tools
Aerospace
Medical Devices
Engineering Machinery
Others
Key Questions Addressed in this Report
What is the 10-year outlook for the global Planetary Servo Gear Unit market?
What factors are driving Planetary Servo Gear Unit market growth, globally and by region?
Which technologies are poised for the fastest growth by market and region?
How do Planetary Servo Gear Unit market opportunities vary by end market size?
How does Planetary Servo Gear Unit break out type, application?
What are the influences of COVID-19 and Russia-Ukraine war?
LP INFORMATION (LPI) is a professional market report publisher based in America, providing high quality market research reports with competitive prices to help decision makers make informed decisions and take strategic actions to achieve excellent outcomes.We have an extensive library of reports on hundreds of technologies.Search for a specific term, or click on an industry to browse our reports by subject. Narrow down your results using our filters or sort by what’s important to you, such as publication date, price, or name.
LP INFORMATION
E-mail: [email protected]
Add: 17890 Castleton St. Suite 369 City of Industry, CA 91748 US
Website: https://www.lpinformationdata.com

Our community threads are the heart of our subreddit and operate much like a specialized support group – we share our experiences and strive to collectively support one another on the topic at hand.
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Essentially, if you mention treatment – it goes in this thread.
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A book about cycles, size and perception : CrimsonCloverwriter (reddit.com)
The green man ran. He sprinted. Down the winding halls and past confused onlookers the green man ran.
One of his subordinates tried to stop him, a rather frog-like man the green man vaguely knew. The green man pushed the frog back, launching him into two more subordinates.
Now they were all running, the halls alive with the sounds of feet pounding across the ground. And yet none could catch him, for he was still spry for his age. Finally, the man broke through the gate, past the barrier and now beside Dundis. It had been years since he wandered these walls, and yet the path spoke to him, showing where he must go. To Osmund, the fallen warrior of Alizia, an old friend.
He ran, the Alizian’s could only see the blur dart past them and enter the doors. Faster and faster he became, until finally the green man wasn’t running at all. Now he was a force, a presence that lived for the rush, moved for the sake of moving, until he could find what he seeked.
And it was then that he saw the tower, collapsed with debris everywhere, the corpses of soldiers strung everywhere, when he began to panic.
Pain. Shooting, blinding pain running through Osmund’s body. Something inside of him was roaring, his organs feeling fit to burst under the complete and utter agony. He could feel it everywhere in his body, starting with his toes and slowly crawling up through his body, into his intestines, through his kidney and even further still, to his head. Osmund could feel it losing itself, his brain was struggling to think, his body far too degraded into paste to resist the loss of himself, struggling as hard as it could to force awareness back into Osmund, make him open his eyes and do something before it was too late-
Pain. There was a warmth here, as Osmund lay, it began in his arm, a slight sting at first but now it began to generate something inside, breathing something into him, strengthening him. Osmund felt something, something other than pain, but equally as shocking : His toes. There they were, all ten of them, buzzing away with the rest of his body. Something was happening, all the pain began to fade away, however something was replacing it. The buzzing.
It was inside Osmund’s head, a cicada buzzing inside of him relentlessly, just as they had back home, in the forest when the merchants would come. Osmund could see them now, dancing joyfully through the fields. Osmund could see her even now, the tall woman, beckoning towards-
Pain. Sensation. Osmund’s eyes opened as something slapped him, a dark figure perched over Osmund’s body. He pushed against the figure, remarking at his own strength and how it overpowered the man so easily. Pushing the shape to the floor Osmund observed it, feeling the overpowering delirium from his rest take over, and all at once the figure was out of his hands, and Osmund felt total weightlessness.
It only lasted for a second, or at least that’s what Osmund believed, before he could see the shadow in more focus, and the green armour that adorned it. Osmund shuddered, resting one hand against his face as he realised who the mysterious shadow was.
“Are you alright Osmund?” Balmun’s concern was admirable, especially considering the man’s wounds. His armour was in shambles, dirtied by the fall, with loose pieces of wood sticking out of his left arm. Blood poured down at an alarming rate, although for the most part Balmun seemed to be in little pain.
“I… I don’t know.” Slowly Osmund raised his hand towards Balmun, who quickly helped him to his feet. Osmund looked down at his body, noting the bloody and tattered armour that clung to him, but also noting the complete absence of pain anywhere.
Osmund observed his surroundings, and realised where the pair stood. Upon collapsing the tower had fallen towards the approaching Alizians, causing a great collapse between the two walls merging the interiors together. Cleaning supplies and old clothes clashed with decadent walls and broken statues. Somehow the tower’s ceiling seemed to have broken the Dundis ceiling, thus leaving a section of the remains elevated.
The ground was littered with Alizian and Vaunghe soldiers, some dead, others dying, however it seemed that many of the Alizian’s had survived the impact, and merely lay with injuries rather than anything truly life-threatening. Osmund could hear something, a curious buzz in the air, it echoed through the room and back to Osmund. It almost sounded like cicada’s, dozens of them, performing their strange buzz to the pair of soldiers.
There was something else, another sound almost completely drowned out by the cicadas, and that was the sound of knocking. Large bangs riddled one of the collapsed walls, with muted calls barely breaking through the debris. Osmund and Balmun slowly moved to the wall, until they were directly in front of it. Osmund could hear the attempts at breaching from the other side, attempting to break through the wall and help the injured, and knew it would take another few minutes.
He looked back at the room, searching for the forms of his party, however he could only find a few. Edmun lay almost completely covered by Vaunghe soldiers, who seemed to have broken his fall slightly. He was still breathing, but unconscious. One of the Enick twins lay dead, although which was uncertain due to the debris that had crushed his skull. The final member of his group Osmund could find was Josmu, severely wounded but still gasping for air. Josmu’s injuries were serious, a crushed arm that would likely need amputation, but he still had a decent chance at survival supposing he got help soon. The others were nowhere to be found, lost amongst the sea of Alizian and Vaunghe forces.
Osmund once again looked at his own wounds, and was struck dumbfounded. The wounds he had sustained, the head injury, the causes of the tattered armour and bloody armour, were nowhere to be found. His body was unharmed, it was covered in blood and dirt, he could even feel the still wet blood from his ear, but there were no injuries, no pain, nothing at all. In fact Osmund felt much more than unharmed, he felt strong. The shock of the fall had faded, and now Osmund began to feel something inside of him roar, some small part of him beginning to take over.
Osmund was practically jumping up and down, he couldn’t contain himself, until finally he approached the wall, now bleeding sunlight due to the efforts of the outside. Osmund touched the wall and pulled with all the strength he could muster. And it worked. The debris was slowly pulled away, beginning to collapse all at once, and revealing more sunlight into the now broken room.
The greens of Alizia welcomed Osmund, and as he wandered out, shock swamped his saviour’s faces. One man in particular, was the very same soldier who gave Osmund the reports earlier. His face was now bruised, a split lip upon his face, which was accentuated with the mix of concern and worry that painted his face.
“Osmund-sir, by the gods we need a medic, anyone go get us a medic the commander needs help!” Another man, even younger than the guide, began to run down the corridor. Osmund watched as he went, and knew that Osmund could beat the man in a fight. Osmund placed an arm on the worried man’s shoulder, a full grin appearing on his face.
“Soldier, soldier… I forget your name, is it Jacm I think it might be Jacm, whatever. Listen to me Jacm, there are quite a couple injured people over there, but I’m fine. Me and Balmun are right as rain in the storm season, and we’re also ready to finish this fight. So then, tell me where to go and I'll meet up with more of our forces.” Concern and worry flashed upon the young soldier’s face.
“But sir, your armour and all that blood.”
“I’m fine really, what we need to worry about is the number of injured soldiers inside the ruins. I need your men to get as many people out and transport them to the medical tents, we don’t have much time.”
“But sir how can we launch an offensive without those forces and the men with me?”
“Quite simply my dear boy, Jacm, I think it’s Jacm, yep that soldier behind you is nodding, it is Jacm, okay then I will lead the offensive myself, even if I have to do it single-handedly.”
“But sir-”
“Jacm, don’t doubt your commanding officer, just do what I say, soldiers did you hear what I said?” The sounds of muttered ‘yes’s fill the room. “Good. So then, I assume that we’re still trying to break into the garden?”
“Yes sir but-” Osmund pushed his way through the crowd, Balmun closely behind.
Osmund approached quickly, taking in the sound of the cicadas as they sang to him in their strange hums. The strength inside begins to build and build, Osmund can feel his body approaching a nexus point before he completely explodes. He turns to Balmun, who is struggling to keep up with Osmund’s own speed. Osmund continues to walk backwards, marvelling at the confidence his body seems to now possess, until he trips over something.
However even tripping over a candelabra wouldn’t stop Osmund, and as he stood up the grin on his face widened even further. Osmund could feel it inside, a euphoria that was quickly spreading through his body. The euphoria brought with it the great strength Osmund felt, and like all good poisons was now in his veins. As Osmund’s joy grew he began to feel like he was at the top of the world, he was a god, no one could stand in his way.
Osmund began to skip, something that he hadn’t done for times long since past. There was a spring in every step, a bee for every bonnet, and this joy was… undeniable. Osmund doubted he could ever go back to a time without this bliss, he’d finally felt what he always wanted, pure joy and happiness. Once he finished this crusade, killed the King and left he would spend the rest of his days frolicking with men and women through meadows and fields of flowers.
Osmund skipped through the halls, and for the first time saw the glory of Dundis. Vibrant red carpets lined the floors, matching the red curtains that hid now broken windows, and they went swimmingly alongside the red blood spilt out of the bodies onto the floor. While most of the blood was Vaunghe, Osmund even saw a few Alizian bodies, which stirred something in the back of his mind, a brief sense of dread. But that was quickly pushed aside by the euphoria, the power, the glory of what life is. Everything was beautiful, from the carpets to the bodies, everything was just another glorious part of life.
One thing that especially spoke to Osmund was another statue, this one the largest Osmund had ever seen. It was another carving of Merculd, however this one was at the very least 40 feet tall, with a domed ceiling stretching high above to accommodate it. The statue sat on a throne of marble, and gazed down upon Osmund. It was truly one of the greatest feats in the history of art, as every detail was lovingly realised, even down to the hair follicles seemingly being present, although how the artist could create hair made of marble seemed improbable to Osmund.
He spun around in a circle and waved to the statue, almost certain that the statue would return one in turn. But there was nothing from this glorious symbol of holiness, only the marble stare that bore down upon him. Osmund continued his travels, unaware of Balmun’s flabbergasted expression.
Balmun was at odds on what he should do in this scenario. Osmund was acting strange, he was never happy, let alone happy looking at the corpses of allies. Balmun considered saying something, briefly looking down at his sword. Balmun knew that he’d done some stupid, idiotic things in the past, that he was a failure, but there was no way that he’d leave Osmund alone like this. The blood from the wound was overpowering, but Balmun pushed on, screw up or not the man knew how to take a hit.
Balmun still knew what he saw, that giant thing that reached down to Osmund. It was after the fall, Balmun was protected by the heap of bodies he was in at the time, and digging himself out he heard a voice. A loud voice and harsh breathing. Pulling himself out from the bodies, some dead and some alive, Balmun saw the shadow. It sat beside something, another shape on the ground, and clutched the shape's arm. Balmun couldn’t make a noise, that thing, whatever it was, had to be at least 18 ft tall, now looming over the ground shape. It pressed something against the ground shape and stopped, waiting, until finally Balmun realised what this thing was listening for, the breaths. Slow and shallow they began, the breath of something rose and fell, and then the shadow stood up, head eclipsing Balmun’s vision. Before Balmun’s eyes it raised a hand, grabbing something up above, and began to pull itself up through the ceiling, up into the remains of rafters and rubble.
Balmun waited, waited for the thing to come back but it never did. Then he crawled over to the shape, ready to do anything that needed doing, when he realised that the shape was Osmund, beaten and bloody on the floor, unconscious. And that was all Balmun knew, he’d never seen anything like it before, and couldn’t even begin to understand the creature’s motives.
The only thing the pair could do was move forward, however Balmun still had a very cunning plan, just as he always does.
* * * *
It takes the pair around twenty minutes to reach the garden entrance, now swamped with the green Alizian troops. A large group of the men held a battering ram, slamming against the garden’s large iron gateway to no avail. Just like many things in Dundis the wall was made to withstand most damage, save for damage courtesy of the gods of course.
The swarm of cicadas danced through Osmund’s brain, the joy at an all time peak, everything other than Osmund’s goal fading into obscurity. The only things that existed in this place were the joy, and the garden door. Digging through his pockets Osmund found only one problem with his current plan, and that was that the last god’s gift wasn’t in his pocket.
“Looking for this Osmund?” Balmun held the green thing in his hand, and offered it to Osmund. The smile somehow widened even deeper.
“Balmun, I admit, you’re starting to grow on me, how about from now on I call you Balmund?” Mild shock appeared on Balmun’s face.
“Sir I couldn’t-”
“Kid, you’re seriously injured and yet you still follow orders to help your leading officer, to tell you the truth I wanted to leave you behind, but I think you’ve proven yourself.”
“Sir I-” The pair are interrupted by a roar of laughter from behind.
“Balmund? Rare for you to promote someone my old friend.” The burly voice came from Ricmund, a rather thicker fellow known for his odd white hair and proficiency with an axe.
“The man deserves it, he’s dealt with me for long enough.”
“I hear that, so then, how are we going to get into that garden? The battering rams done jack against it.” The smile reached its fullest potential, a literal ear to ear grin.
“ Me and Balmun both have a very cunning plan, using this,” Osmund takes the gift from Balmun and raises it in the air, “We will be able to break through the Vaunghe’s defences in one fell swoop. Move your men, as this may kill them and I really can’t wait to use one of these on purpose.”
As Osmund walks away to the gate, Ricmund gives a little laugh, one containing the slightest bit of worry, before turning to Balmun.
“Di-did he realise that he’s fully erect? His armour is very damaged and it is very…. noticeable.”
“I don’t think he has, I believe he fell on his head fairly hard sir.”
“Don’t sir me, he promoted you, call me pal.” Ricmund reaches out his hand, which Balmund takes.
“Thank you sir.” Swarms of Alizian soldiers begin to retreat after Osmund informs them of the coming plan.
As everyone prepared for the coming battle, weapons ready and shields raised, Osmund pulled the pin on the gift and threw it towards the gate. It made a small ting sound, bouncing directly off of the large door. Osmund realised his mistake and proceeded to throw the gift itself, and not a second too late as it exploded on impact.
The explosion surprised many of the soldiers, forcing them back a few steps, and even sending a few to the ground. It was at this point that Osmund started to lose himself. He started to forget the why’s of his actions instead focusing on the actions themselves. He ran forward, through the black smoke and into the garden. He galloped over the destroyed bodies of the defenders and began to analyse his surroundings.
While the Vaunghe were talented artists, Osmund was beginning to doubt their sensibilities in regards to statues, as even more marble masterworks glared down from all sides. Roses and lilies adorned this place, alongside shrubs and apple trees planted to shield the sun. A large, iron net was placed atop the entire ceiling, allowing natural light in but restricting any aerial assault. Surrounding Osmund were the few souls lucky enough to have had some distance, however only two of them were armed.
Osmund bounded to one, and slashed at the Vaunghe’s face with a claw like hand. Blood spurted across the room, and Osmund could see the others terrified faces as he-
-stood upon the soldiers bodies, coated in blood and gore, none of it his own. But… wait just a second ago Osmund was-
-dancing through the garden, deep into the centre. Osmund stopped, glancing around at his surroundings, something was different, his mind was racing where were the-
-Alizian’s poured in after Osmund, supporting his assault. He beat away the sword swings of the desperate nobles…. wait nobles? Osmund stops again, sweat coating his body something wasn’t right things were missing what was he doing again? The euphoria began to die down, everything was alright, nothing-
-could stop Osmund’s foot as it came down again and again and again onto the man’s face, much to the terror of the nobles around him. The joy began to fade, and Osmund scrambled to realise what just happened. Fragments of time lost in the pit of insanity that Osmund’s mind had become, but it stopped, all of it began to leave him, taking his newfound strength with it.
Osmund moved his foot, alongside the barely hanging on iron plated boot that was attached to it. Coated in blood, Osmund struggled for a second to remember where he had obtained the boot, scrambling his brain to recall the Strolomite blacksmith that made it. Nice guy, missing an eye but a damn good blacksmith, hopefully he’s still open to making new armour.
Osmund looked back down at the heavily beaten corpse on the ground, noting the intricate clothing and bloody crown on the floor next to it. He felt a weight drop inside of him, his flesh got goosebumps, everything went wrong. Osmund looked down at the man, the king of the Vaunghe, and panicked. He shook, he paced, and for the first time realised that someone was watching from the doorway. Doorway of a room Osmund only just realised he was in, a decadent room with red carpets. Red like… like the King now was.
Balmund slowly moved through to Osmund and slowly began to talk. But he wasn’t actually slow, no everything was just going slower, everything was distorting and for a second Osmund couldn’t see the difference between Balmund and Aliza. Aliza, she stood in the distance, through the doorway and back in the garden she stood, beckoning to Osmund.
He pushed past Balmund, and the pair of soldiers who entered after him, quickly descending the stairs and running to where he saw her. Bodies lie on the floor, savagely disfigured and lying dead on the floor, torn apart as if from a monster. But Osmund didn’t process this, he left them all behind as he got closer to Aliza, because she was still here, still beckoning to Osmund. Her height was incalculable, being almost three times as tall as Osmund, but she wasn’t, she was half Osmund’s size, or maybe she was as tall as Osmund herself, her form kept shaking in and out of proportion, rattling Osmund.
And just as he reached her she was gone, gone as quickly as she had appeared. Osmund ran through the garden, through bodies and plants that Osmund didn’t recognise, past the elegant statues and Alizian forces, who were now swarming the garden.
Approaching the gates, Osmund’s began to feel dizzy, the sunlight began to run into the dark, there was a strange taste in his mouth, the cicadas were blaring and Osmund felt-
-A hand touched Osmund’s shoulder, making him jump. Once again his mind had skipped something, and looking around he realised that he was outside again, Dundis glaring down at him from afar. The tents for the wounded were overwhelmed, a hundred soldiers all laying down in various states of injury. Osmund was standing beside the metal pole and the lectern, holding one rotten piece of fruit. He dropped it and turned to the person who touched him.
It was a bandaged Balmund, observing Osmund with distress. His wounds bandaged, Osmund once again realised how lucky the man was to have lived through such a fall. Balmund was saying something, and Osmund tried to listen but his head was beating like a drum, banging in and out of his mind.
“Osmund, are you alright?” The concern was warranted, even Osmund couldn’t tell what was wrong, whenever he tried to pin down what was happening it squirmed through his mind.
“I can’t understand it Balmun- Balmund I mean, I must’ve hit my head because my mind is racing everywhere. I haven’t felt like this in years Balmund, this senselessness, this brutality, I left that shit behind when I turned thirty.”
“Sir, what you did to the King was a good thing. He was going to kill all of us, just because he’s some religious franker who can’t tell a dream from reality.”
“Franker? Can’t say I’ve heard that one.”
“I made it up-” The pair's conversation was halted by the scream.
The scream pierced the air cutting through into the pair's eardrums. They both looked to the source of the noise, and it was a Vaunghe noble, pushing against the soldiers. He was screaming as if his life depended on it. Osmund looked at the man in disdain, sure that this was some attempt at defiance, one last Vaunghe tradition, at least until there were more screams.
Another rang out from the Dundis entrance, this one belonging to an Alizian soldier, clutching his heart and comrades for support. Another scream from the wounded tents, and little by little the screaming multiplied, coming from every direction. One soldier, as confused as the pair, looked to them for guidance, when his mouth contorted. He was mindless for a second, and then terror fought its way out of him. He pointed up, towards the sky.
Osmund turned, looking up to the sky, and that was when he saw it, the thing in the sky, or the lack of it. Blackness. It waited in the sky, staring down at them. A part of the sky had turned black, completely and utterly dark, contrasting the bright day. It wasn’t an object in the sky, it was the lack of one. The lack of anything, waited in the sky. There wasn’t any matter inside of that hole, it was just a rip in the sky, perfectly rectangular, and looking down upon them.
Osmund couldn’t comprehend what this thing was, this presence was impossible, improbable. No god had ever done such a thing, nothing had ever removed the sky before. The screams began to die, turning into a series of whimpers. Hands raised in the sky against this cruel unknown, this mysterious saboteur on a day of victory. Osmund watched the hole with the rest of them, not knowing what this thing could be, this abnormality.
And yet nothing happened. For minutes Osmund waited, the cicadas buzzing dying slowly, when he began to lose faith that anything was going to happen. Osmund moved his eyes down, and then to the wounded tents, in which many slowly began to revert back to how they were. Beginning to approach the tent, there was a sharp intake of breath, and people began the show of looking up all over again, for another hole had opened.
This hole was directly behind the castle of Dundis in the opposite direction of the first, and shared many similarities with the first. Except this one was bigger, clearly bigger. While it was hard to guess how large these holes were due to incomparable heights or objects, what was clear was that this one was far larger than the first.
The panicked screams continued as people noticed a third hole appear, and then a fourth. They kept appearing, with exponentially quicker appearances compared to the ones before it, and they started coming out too fast to react to. Osmund saw one appear before his eyes, one moment there was a sky and the next there was only the black nothingness above them. The sky continued to blacken, holes merging to become larger until almost everything was gone.
Birds screeched in confusion, beginning to swirl in flocks towards the remaining blots of the sky. And then it stopped. The entire sky in every viewable direction was gone, leaving behind only the nothingness of the dark, and the sun. That was of course until everything went black. It happened immediately, one moment there was a sun high in the sky, and the next there was nothing, just the dark nothingness all around them.
People tried to run, hitting each other and sending themselves flying into walls of every degree. So many people were shouting and screaming, others tried to calmly find one another. Osmund reached around him, trying to find Balmund, anyone, but there was nothing but air. But even that began to run out. It happened all at once, one moment Osmund was breathing in and out, and the next he couldn’t breathe in. He began to struggle, choking on the nothingness, and as he lacked his air Osmund felt his body losing itself, felt the cicadas fading away until finally both were gone.

C’est la première fois que je poste ici. S’il y a de l’erreur du format, n’hésitez pas à me le faire savoir.
En tant qu’un mannequin qui était immobilisé jusqu’à présent, cette nuit je suis surpris par mes bras flexibles et mon corps vivant. Depuis on m’avait posé sur ce coin-ci, je voyais toutes sortes de relations dans ce magasin, y compris celles des couples, des familles, et des amis. Sans aucune personne près de moi, j’ai envie de m’en sortir et me trouver mon groupe qui peux m’accompagner à un restaurant et me parler de n’importe quoi, parce que je ne connais que la perspective d’un mannequin. Je suis curieux de quoi les gens parlent avant d’entrer le magasin et après d’avoir acheté des vêtements jolis. De plus, pour la décennie qui s’est passé, piles des pensées accumulent, remplient, et finalement, accablent mon esprit. Mon esprit ressemble à un volcan plein de lave mais privé de l’issue pour la sortir. Aujourd’hui, un ange me permet de bouger et ressourdre ma curiosité et mon vœu de parler avec les gens. La porte est là. Dedans, c’est la vie qui m’ennuie gravement ; dehors, c’est tous ce que je rêve chaque jour. Me voilà, ma nouvelle vie.
En mettant un T-shirt blanc et un pantalon lâche, le mannequin souriant part sans hésitation.

(Galina Antova) Deepfakes are becoming increasingly popular with cybercriminals and as these technologies become even easier to use organizations must become even more vigilant. (Marc Solomon) Many of the most successful cybercriminals are shrewd; they want good ROI but they don’t want to have to reinvent the wheel to get it. (Matt Wilson) Cyberattacks have exposed a myriad of vulnerabilities in our healthcare infrastructure and will continue to do so as new and innovative medical technologies are developed. Making threat intelligence actionable requires more than automation; it also requires contextualization and prioritization. New York Attorney General Letitia James said HPMBs "poor data security measures" violated state law and privacy and security standards in the federal Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA). He is a security community engagement expert who has built programs at major global brands including Intel Corp. Bishop Fox and GReAT. Cookies enable us to provide the best experience possible and help us understand how visitors use our website. "Only cumulative monthly security updates (known as the B or Update Tuesday release) will continue for these versions. All Rights Reserved. The Irish Data Protection Commission determined that Facebook had run afoul the "data protection by design and default" requirement mandated by Europes General Data Protection Regulation and Irish law. "According to the latter Russia was the second largest country by number of Tor users in 2021 (with over 300000 daily users or 15% of all Tor users). "Companies can and should strengthen their data security measures to safeguard consumers digital data otherwise they can expect to hear from my office. ""It just doesnt seem like a great argument" said Antoin O Lachtnain director of Digital Rights Ireland when reached by phone by Information Security Media Group. We’ll discuss:For more than 10 years Mike Lennon has been closely monitoring the threat landscape and analyzing trends in the National Security and enterprise cybersecurity space. "After March 2023 there are no more optional non-security preview releases for the supported editions of Windows 10 version 20H2 and Windows 10 version 21H2" Microsoft said. - Alpha AI

Hi everyone, this is the first chapter of my debut novel. For information and links to other chapters click the link down below :
Reddit - Dive into anything
The Great One sat on his throne, gazing longingly into the hearts of man. Something was coming and he could feel it. Destiny riding on a white steed, like the tales of man long ago, coming to uncover his secrets. He could see it all, the wall, the castle, and the so-called gods that built it all. The ego of these creatures was laughable, if only the Great One could still laugh. He could still speak sure, but only through means not of man’s common means. Vocal cords were a commodity long since lost in this place.
As the Great One observed the coming destiny he could feel the approaching storm, in a hail of flesh and blood, the only things that the Great One lacked. He would never give up, never retreat to these things as they approached, for this was the Great One. He looked back to the castle, viewing the scene in its entirety, and he felt something like happiness enter him.
Divinity. That is what connected the walls surrounding Dundis castle, not stone or metal, this was not a mere wall but a divine gift from ones above. Divinity sealed the wall, made it whole, the walls sealed together without mark or blemish, something no man could ever replicate. The wall had stood for a century, and would likely last ten more, there was no weakness, no flaw in design. 50 metres tall the wall was unscalable, unbreakable. No man could break the wall, it was the Vaunghe empire’s crowning gift, their wonder of the world. Those that were hired to clean the wall’s dirt and grime were heralded as the truly faithful, and all longed to help the gift of the gods. And yet despite this the Alizian’s watched, standing with armies around the great wall, waiting to breach its crust and destroy the core.
The Vaunghe had watched their foes throw everything they had, hundreds of men attacking the steel doors of the wall to no avail, an attempted archer attack quickly squashed by the wall's height. The Alizian military was strong, a blend of the Alizian warriors and Strolim blacksmiths made for a truly terrifying army. The army was so terrifying that the Vaunghe inside the castle doubted there were any more Vaunghe troops left, this was the end to a long battle between man and man. Even the soldiers left weren’t particularly important, just those lucky enough to guard the king and a few trainees. But the Vaunghe felt their luck running out.
The food supplies had run low, even if the nobles weren’t in the castle there was no chance of resupply. The few men who had eaten in the past few days stood alert, gazing down from the ramparts at the enemy. The soldiers knew they had to either surrender or fight, but the Vaunghe were passionate people, they could never leave behind their identity in favour of life. So the men waited, bows and arrows at the ready, for the next attack. Heavy items such as ingots and chairs lined the rampart, ready to be thrown off at a moments notice.
They had waited in this position for many cycles, and as day turned to night, and night turned to day the Vaunghe were exhausted, finished with whatever feeble attacks these barbarians had planned. They could throw whatever armies and arrows they wanted at the wall but it would remain unphased, forevermore. When the Alizian’s next attacked they would be met with the last strength of the Vaunghe, and it would be a story remembered for milenia by man and the gods.
As the morning sun rose over the wall, the enemy was revealed in all their glory. Even from so high above the Vaunghe could see the glint of silver from the Alizian military. The bright greens of the Alizian armour created a dazzling sensation that they were one with the grass, which blended in so perfectly with their clothes. They stood in their thousands, armed with whatever they could find, and even on the wall the men could see him.
The slaughterer, the murderer, the man, the myth and the legend Osmund stood alone on an overlooking hill. The fiend was well known by the Vaunghe, he was likely the greatest foe that had come from the opposing sides. Vaunghe generals often fled at his coming, or surrendered first, but rumour had it that Osmund gave no mercy. Overseeing his army to destroy everything that was left, the Vaunghe soldiers knew today really was the end. The figure on the hill moved closer to his army and screamed. The battle-cry of the Alizian’s shook fear into each of the Vaunghe atop the rampart, being so loud that it even reached so high.
The hundreds of troops began to move in sync, forming three individual groups of soldiers, with 10 metre spaces between each. Each contingent comprised six hundred men, easily dwarfing the 82 Vaunghe soldiers that were left. But the Vaunghe were not afraid, at least not afraid of a breach anytime soon. These walls were built to withstand any damage, no man could breakthrough one.
Between the troops was movement, indeed there seemed to be movement down all three rows of men in blue. The Strolime empire had finally revealed themselves, with their short stature and mental prowess the Strolime were gifted inventors not expected to appear on the battlefield. And yet here they were, almost one hundred of them hauling forth three large metallic objects. The sun bounced off of these objects into the Vaunghe’s eyes.
None of the men had ever seen objects like these, seemingly composed of pure metals and on wheels. Some thought they were a testament to the gods, some holy objects, others believed it to be some new invention from the Strolime, however none of them could say anything for certain as they were pushed closer and closer to the wall. The Strolomites stopped in their advance, approximately 20 metres away from the wall. The purpose of these objects had yet to dawn on the men, although one of the younger men on the rampart claimed he could see small objects poking through the metal, which was now aimed at a forty-five degree angle towards the wall.
As the Strolimites halted their advance many began to move away into the safety of the Alizian wall, likely afraid of any precautionary Vaunghe archers. One of them, a rather short and plump soldier, stayed with the object, placing a hand on it and turning to the wall. It was a fleeting moment, but for a second it seemed the man was gazing at the Vaunghe soldiers in shame. One last condemnation to the ones that began this war, before it would all come crashing down. But then the moment passed, and the short man moved as the rest did, doing a slight zig zag to avoid arrows.
And now, just as quickly they had come, the Strolomite’s were gone in the ranks of the Alizians, still waiting in their groups for something, and then they came. Three figures, two women and a man, moved between the lines just as the Strolimites before them. These three wore no armour, only the greens of Alizia upon their tunics. They stood beside the objects and began to reach their arms into the underside of it. Before the Vaunghe’s eyes the objects began to turn slightly, aiming even more directly at the wall.
One of the Vaunghe had enough of this display, and raised his bow. There were low winds on this day, and he was a good enough shot to reach at least one of the Alizian soldiers. He aimed his bow, finger on the drawstring, and released. It is likely that this arrow would’ve drawn first blood in this battle, however the arrow never reached its target.
In the split second before the release of the bow, the Vaunghe noticed the smoke billowing out of the bottom of the devices, the flames that shot out, and finally they noticed for not even a fraction of a second the object that shot out of the metallic thing, something white and red that hit the wall in an instant.
The wall shook, and the following barrage of these objects shattered any notion of divinity. Crashing and crumbling the rampart was launched, sending soldiers flying everywhere. The Vaunghe beside the wall were subject to the falling rubble, both the crumbling stone of the walls and the miscellaneous objects they had left upon the wall. All of the objects crushed the few Vaunghe left, save for the few sickly starving soldiers left inside the castle’s inner walls.
Down went the walls, such a harsh strike against the wall that nothing stood in the path of this monster. The roaring splattered through the castle, the screams of the falling wall waking the King himself from his slumber. Such a vast creation had fallen in seconds before the might of the Alizian’s, and now there was nothing left but to watch the battle unfold.
Smoke flooded the inner walls of the castle, casting the few remaining into fits of coughing and blindness. The walls finished their crumbling, and yet the roars didn’t stop. These were not the roars of the wall but the war cries of the soldiers outside, and they began to get louder, echoing through the walls of Dundis and into the ears of the weak nobles and soldiers.
Through the smoke they came, weapons raised and charging the weak. The few that tried to fight were slaughtered, cut down by a sea of green soldiers. Those that were choking, sputtering or raising their hands in defeat were spared, hauled through the hordes and into one of the stables facing the inner wall. They were to be tried and jailed, for no human regardless of their crime should be killed. It is simply not the Alizian way.
Out of the one hundred and fifty two people who were in Dundis, forty two had died in the wall’s destruction, and a further eleven were detained by the Alizian military. There was nothing that the Vaunghe could do, save for locking their doors, shield themselves and hold out for as long as possible. The Vaunghe forces built barricades in their castle, locking away the Alizian combatants for as long as possible. And during all of this Osmund waited. Waiting for his time to end this war, this travesty of battle that had gone on for too long, and that time finally came.
* * * *
Osmund stood alone atop the hill, and watched the madness unfold. The walls crumbled at the face of these weapons with no more effort than a straw house, and the plumes of smoke assaulted his men, although not to the extent of the inner wall. After a few moments of sputtering and choking the men cheered, for this was the moment that they had been waiting for, the end of such a long war now in the Alizian’s favour.
The Vaunghe capital was in shambles, their military long crushed underneath Osmund’s almighty power, and all that was left was the King. Hiding behind his walls as if he didn’t deserve this loss, this final failure in his life. Osmund was willing to spare as many people as he could, it was the Alizian code, but there would be no mercy for the King. This wasn’t one final battle between two great armies, that conflict happened weeks ago, this was the last breaths of a psychotic monarch being silenced amongst the last of his troops.
Osmund gazed longingly at Dundis, the ruined walls and advancing soldiers and doubted. He felt something was off, something was very wrong with all of this. His heart began to thump, as Osmund’s eyes turned every way to understand what was wrong, what abnormality was here. It grew and grew, Osmund began to shake at what was about to happen, nothing was right here Osmund should be somewhere else helping someone, there’s something wrong here something very-
Peace. Osmund’s heart stopped thumping, body stopping its perpetual shaking. He looked again to the marching troops, now almost entirely inside the walls, and looked back to his back, and the reserve Strolomites that now stood. They were cheering, marvelling at the success of the assault, and how the god’s gift had saved so much effort on their part.
Such strange creations composed of metal and flame, Osmund marvelled at the power the gods possessed. These devices were so unique in design Osmund doubted if any army could defeat them. The large red tubes they released could easily destroy an entire village by itself, but with one hundred of them an entire valley could be bathed in flames. Something truly abnormal in this world, something so parallel to the code of battle that no army would ever think of it.
The Vaunghe were once considered to be the greatest fighters, with the tournaments they created bringing forth the greatest warriors from throughout the land. Their dedication and power were unmatched in ferocity and violence, some called the Vaunghe the standing due to their unmatched will to always get back up. Osmund recalled his days in the tournaments, those peaceful days when he was not yet a hero to people, but a simple military man. He was still only Osmu back then, and yet even those of the time knew he would be something special. As Christoff used to say, ‘Ozzie you’re going places, big ones’. Osmund missed Christoff, It had been so long since their last meeting, and all Osmund wanted was to meet again one last time.
Osmund’s assistant came to him, a younger Strolomite by the name of Gizmu. Gizmu was rather muscular for a Strolomite, a strong figure contrasting his associates' plumper bodies, and stature was fairly tall for one of his people at 6’5 ft tall. Hazel hair protruded through a blue helmet, and for the first time Osmund considered what his assistant could look like. Gizmu was one of the many Strolomite’s who refused to show their face until military success, a tradition that Osmund respected. He had no doubt that Gizmu's true face would one day be revealed to him, as the man possessed genuine prowess in the fields of agriculture, something sorely missed in the modern military.
“Osmund, your team is preparing now, they’ll come soon. I advise you to prepare your armour sir, as it won’t be long before you’re sent in.” Osmund sensed mild concern in Gizmu’s voice, but didn’t pursue it.
“Thank you Gizmu, my friend. I’ll begin my preparations, tell the guests to meet me here when they are fully prepared. And do ensure they understand that there is still risk of injury on this mission, ensure each of them wears their armour.” Osmund’s voice was deep and echoed his long life, commanding a sense of authority amongst all Alizian forces.
Osmund left the hill, passing the cheering Strolomite’s and the peasant farmers who supported the army, and entered the rows of tents. They stretched out on either side, one for every four soldiers, until he reached his own tent. Entering Osmund was surprised to discover a fellow commander still asleep in his bed, snoring away peacefully.
Osmund removes his upper clothing, the clean tunic falling to the ground. While removing these clothes Osmund kicks the sleeping man in the leg, which doesn’t actually amount to anything rather than halting his snoring. Osmund kicks the sleeping soldier again, this time in the buttocks, which does a far better job of riling him. The man looks around wide-eyed, before settling onto the sight of the giant Osmund.
“Hey, why'd you kick me? I almost had a bleedin’ heart attack don’t you know not to meddle with a sleepin man?”
“Don’t you know that you were meant to be on the battlefield at the crack of dawn? I don’t know what kind of promotion you’re expecting when you aren’t even going on the battlefield. Do you really want to be Balmun forever?” Osmund spoke coldly, now reaching for his chestplate.
“Well no sir. But the thing is I actually have a very cunning plan, I thought of it all myself.” A smile falls upon the man’s face, whose head bears an uncanny resemblance to a potato.
“And what is that?” Osmund halted his preparations briefly.
“Well if I say I was there but didn't actually go, who’d think I wasn’t? I can just sleep through it all until the battle is won and no one would be the wiser.” Osmund puts a hand onto Balmun’s fleshy shoulder.
“A fine plan, if I wasn’t your commanding officer you buffoon. By the gods I believe some divine creator mistakenly put a turnip in your head instead of a brain because no noble’s son has ever been as frankly idiotic as you have. You’re coming with me to the battlefield, and I suggest you get dressed or you’ll be facing the last of the Vaunghe army with your flopping cock dancing for all to see.” Balmun stood and began to slip some clothes on, as Osmund completed his own set of armour.
Osmund’s armour bore the mark of a noble family, some rich fools who wanted their family crest to be associated with a bloody conflict and a dangerous murderer. Osmund wore it because of the armour’s quality, customfit to encompass Osmund’s 9’5 ft tall body, something no other armour was able to achieve. Osmund’s height was always an oddity, reaching far above the average 8ft heights of most Alizian’s, and making him one of the tallest figures in the lands. It was this height and his skin’s colour that earned him the name of the black death, which he wasn’t particularly fond of due to the mention of his skin. And even then Osmund certainly didn’t feel like a black death, whatever that was meant to be, rather he felt like death itself. Osmund was to be fifty years old by the end of the week, and it showed on his body. The hair that was left on his head was grey, and while still possessing an impressive form Osmund’s body was not in its prime, he was old.
Osmund looked at himself in the full body mirror, grabbing his longsword and leaving the tent, dragging a half dressed Balmun with him. Back through the tents they travelled, back past the now eager Strolomite’s and atop the hill where Osmund’s infiltration team stood. In any other battle Osmund would’ve despised the one that left this group with him, a collection of subpar and mediocre soldiers with all the military future of an Otter in a stew. But then again Osmund’s battle history did feature a lot of important people dying under his watch, so perhaps this was for the better.
The force began with Edmun, a cross between a prostitute and a noble who unfortunately takes more from the noble. An egotistical brat, as well as a greedy goblin of anything that isn’t bolted down, Osmund had borne the unfortunate duty of his company for months, since the initial assault on the capitol. The man could barely hold a weapon, save for slight skill with a flail of all things which he wore by his side. It was a gold plated flail as well, specifically made for beating in the heads of the poor Vaunghe soldiers stupid enough to get close. Blonde hair obscured blue eyes that spoke to his red-light mother, in fact for a noble’s son Edmun had all the appearance of an incestuous dullard. The man had survived by pure luck, and was the only casualty that Osmund wanted his side to suffer.
The Enick twins Humun and Eumun were up next, named after their family crest of the god of alcohol Enick. In contrast to Edmun these were a pair of real soldiers, Osmund had seen the fruits of their labour many times. They were great at the art of flanking, Humon’s greataxe paired alongside Eumun’s spears proved to be an unbeatable combination. The only issue that Osmund had with the pair was their… peculiar relationship. While the two were great fighters, whenever they were together anything else became impossible to comprehend. Osmund had once caught the pair attempting to seduce a goat wearing a knight’s helm, and while they were drunk there is still clear evidence of idiocy amongst them. The pair were identical in appearance, burly figures of 8’5ft, short cut black hair and overgrown beards stretching down their faces, however the distinguishing feature between the two was Eumon’s cleft lip, which gave his speech a lisp.
Josmu was far more a scholar than a soldier, although Osmund enjoyed his presence greatly. Since they first met the pair had hit it off, often discussing each other’s lives in Alizian taverns across the kingdom. A gifted archer, Josmu was the son of two aspiring poets and enlisted into the military voluntarily to assist in the war efforts. Osmund had a great deal of respect for the man, and hoped that the two would one day have a drink together, and ruminate on the past once more.
And then there was Jumun, a gifted soldier and one of the few Osmund thought could take him in his prime. Long strands of red hair ran down her rough face, a pointed nose and peculiar eyebrow shape giving her a perpetual look of disappointment. At a height of 9’2 ft she stood almost toe to toe with Osmund, in fact there were many aspects about her that reminded Osmund of himself. The first was her attitude, she treated every war as a tragedy of its own, and yet she would never fail to perform against her enemies. Skilled in most weapons Jumun’s life had been long and arduous, her worn out armour covered in patches and dents. Osmund had offered her a new set of armour once, to which she vehemently refused, telling Osmund that she wished to end the war in the armour she started it in. Currently she held a single large sword nearly identical to his own, and Osmund predicted that she couldn’t wait for the battle to be over.
The group stood facing the smoking walls, watching the now descending Strolomite’s retrieve the three gifts from the gods. Pushing them back up the hill would take tremendous strength and a long time, which is why nearly double the number of Strolomite’s assisted in the endeavour. Osmund cleared his throat, prompting the looks of the team. All of their eyes were of Balmun, who was somehow already panting after a 2 minute drag through the ground. Osmund released the man and pushed him towards his new comrades, to which he sulked.
Osmund could see through the smoke of the ruins now, noting the strangely high number of bodies present from Osmund’s view. It appeared that there were more forces than originally estimated, as it was initially guessed there were around one hundred and fifty soldiers inside. Judging by the number of corpses inside those numbers clearly forgot to account for the possibility of trainees inside of the castle. This may be a slightly larger fight than initially predicted, although even supposing there were another hundred or so trainees locked inside rooms there were things Osmund could do against that.
“Alright then, good to see that some of you actually bothered to wake up today, Balmun, and I think we all know that this mission is going to end the war.” Balmun raised his hand.
“Yes Balmun?”
“Sir I have a very cunning pl-”
“Shove your plans up your slacker buttocks, you idiot. Now then, I’m gonna say this once, because quite frankly the more chances I give Balmun to interrupt the more likely I’ll butcher myself with this sword. Now then we are the backbone to the forces, our mission is to help take individual points of conflict from alternative points. We will accomplish this with the leaked maps of the castle gained from Vaunghe intelligence. Now then, originally it was believed that we were dealing with only around one hundred and fifty troops, but it looks like someone didn’t remember the number of rookie troops that are trained here, so we could be looking at a few more troops than expected.” Osmund saw the hand raised but tried to ignore it. The man with the potato for a head seemed adamant however, and raised his hand higher. When that didn’t work he raised both arms.
“By the gods what is it?”
“Well sir, what kind of weapons do you think they have?” Osmund stopped in his tracks, not expecting anything even related to an actual important question. A smile formed on his face, it seems that even fools can think every now and again.
“Decent question my friend, we can probably expect the basic mix of swords and axes, likely shields also, but we may have one or two archers running around however it’s unlikely any survived the wall’s collapse.”
“That is good Osmund, once we take a few down I need a weapon, I like the swords myself.”
“What’s wrong with your sword?”
“I left it in the tent sir.” Osmund cupped his hands into his face, cringing against the stupidity of this man.
“Listen…. just everyone follow me please, I mean by the gods man. Come on. Listen I don’t think we will need any armour with us today, we have the single thickest piece of meat just over there as we speak.” Osmund points towards Balmun, who turns to see what everyone is looking at. Without another word Osmund begins to walk down the hill towards the castle, muttering things that even the gods consider a little racy.
* * * *
The ruins of Dundis stood firm in their strength, with the ruined walls blemishing what was once a grand fortress that none had penetrated. Tall spires protrude from the shapeless stone complex. Along the gateway was a path leading directly into the Dundis entrance, which stood slightly ajar. Fragments of the wall had crushed many parts of the outside, with simple wooden stables and trees crushed by the weight of the plummet of the debris. The architecture that remained spoke to the complexities of the Vaunghe, as spiralling patterns adorned the walls of the castle, interlaced with rare jewels that coated the walls. The Vaunghe were so fortunate with minerals that one could find them coating their walls, despite the fact that no one other than a fellow Vaunghe was ever meant to see such a thing.
A veil of embarrassment and determination clashed as the group descended the hill, weapons at the ready. The group had reached the ruins of the wall now, debris coating the grass and the bodies that were surely there. Even destroyed Osmund still felt some of that divine power the Vaunghe always babbled about, he felt the strength in the walls and not for the first time wondered why the gods would bestow such a gift upon such a vile group.
The group began clambering through the ruins, over the cracked pieces of stone and through the divine walls final remains. There was a smell here, the remnants of smoke colliding with the smell of blood, but there was a third smell, one that Osmund knew well. It was the smell of inevitability, heavy in the hair. That which is unlikely to happen always will happen, and when it does the smell adds to it all, the smell of fate and destiny runs through this place.
Inevitability hides everywhere, in the trees and the skies, carried by the wind through it all. From nature it was born, but in man it thrives, the building’s will one day fall, the kingdoms will fade away, and everything will one day lead to something else. From every beginning comes an end, and each end becomes a beginning, this is how it has always been. This place thought itself against such things, and inevitability infected its walls, creeping along slowly rotting the once great walls into a hellish nightmare. Now the bubble has burst, and the smell of inevitability crowds the world, taking over everything.
Moaning. A low whimper. A cry for something. Calls for assistance. A terrified yell. Osmund approaches the source of these noises, his team close behind. At the source of these screams is a Vaunghe soldier, somehow alive after the rampart’s collapse, covered in piles of stone and smoke. His outstretched hand reaches towards Osmund, who in turn takes it.
The man mutters something, sputters blood, and begins to fade. As he does, Osmund moves towards the rocks, feeling against it. Somehow the rocks aren’t as heavy as they should be, and Osmund slowly moves the rocks. The first and second rocks move, and after some struggling Osmund moves the third rock, revealing a bloody leg, spurting forward. Osmund realises how the man survived, the remains of a metal box squashed around him. As the rampart fell the man landed inside, narrowly missing an immediate demise. Now he sat, bleeding in and out of consciousness, and moaning for help. Osmund put his hands around the man, slowly lifting him, and moving forwards into the inner walls.
There are running medics here, and as they see Osmund’s approach they run to him, taking the injured man and placing him onto a table. The man may survive, they told Osmund, however his bleeding may take too much from him. As Osmund turns to leave he hears the voice, the message of the man.
“T-t-th-than-” It was shaky, interrupted by coughs and convulsions, but bore strength, and Osmund felt the ghost of a smile play upon him.
“It wasn’t an issue.” And with that Osmund left the tent, admiring the surroundings in focus for the first time. Eyes bore into him from his party, and yet no one said anything, they couldn’t. Many had called Osmund a monster in his time, they had seen him do bad things to bad people, and yet none would call him a monster, for there is no such thing. Osmund is not some black death, he’s another beast entirely.
For the first time Osmund admired his surroundings, the inner walls were now filled with wreckage, and looked back to the tent. It was amazing how quickly the medics could establish tents, the battle had occurred for less than an hour and already there were three tents established side by side. Besides the wounded Vaunghe soldier were three other injured soldiers, each seeming to be hit by a minor injury likely from the smoke inhalation.
The captured and surrendered were lined up against the castle's wall, being carefully monitored by over sixty members of the contingent. There were only around twelve or thirteen of the captured, smoke-covered and sputtering. On the ground were bodies, those rookies that tried so valiantly to protect what they cared for. They now lay, looking up to the sky blindly.
Osmund saw the bodies and felt his stomach turn. The desire came back. The shaking returned, alongside it the painful sharp stabbing thoughts. Everything changed, he forgot who he was. What kind of person would approve of this, what even was Osmund was he real or fake, how is he even conceiving things like this. What is reality and why is it real, why can’t he understand-
Silence. Peace. Osmund returned to himself, the shaking never happening at all. He looked down at the bodies and continued to walk. There was nothing he could do for them, not anymore. The eyes of his group bore into him, shattering something that had broken a long time ago. He raised his hand and motioned for his team to follow, leaving this travesty of death and life behind.
Footsteps. Osmund turned to their echoing sound, the way they bounced through the place was unbelievable, the way it echoed between the walls and the castle structure itself. Through open castle gates he ran, a messenger in green, sword in its scabbard and now approaching Osmund. The man tripped on something, a large rock of some sort, before standing, dusting himself off and reaching the group.
“Osmund, we have hit the enemy’s points of defence.” The man was young, maybe twenty, and no more than twenty five.
“And? Where are they?”
“There are three fronts, the first is in the scout’s tower where a group of Vaunghe are amassing weapons and barricades fast. We can no longer enter the tower, as the amount thrown down makes common entrance impossible. The second location is the garden, where we believe the last of the nobles and the King himself are. We’ve faced harsh opposition from the enemies, who have formed a wall of shields to protect the door. Finally we have the guard’s quarters, where a few amount of Vaunghe are in active combat as we speak, although that will likely be taken without need for intervention.”
“Good job soldier.”
“Thank you sir.”
Osmund removes a slip of paper from his garb, and admires it in the sunlight. It was a complex map of Dundis, including the secret passages and escape routes of the entire place. It cost the annulment of many Vaunghe men and women, but was worth all the effort. Consulting the map Osmund noted the existence of an escape passageway inside of the tower. It was obscured behind a wall, thus explaining the lack of windows on that side.
“Report back to your commander that we’ll begin with the tower, there are several clear passages into an alternative staircase. Launching a pincer attack we’ll defeat the enemy and allow for the redistribution of forces. By that time I expect the guard’s quarters to be taken, allowing us to completely overflow any opposition protecting the garden.”
“Yes Osmund, I will inform her now.” And with that the young warrior ran back through the castle’s long iron gates.
And thus, the final battle was upon them. Osmund looked upon Dundis, the last symbol of the people who had taken everything from him, the ones who had slaughtered so many innocents, so many that Osmund cared for, and now the end was finally in sight. But it didn’t feel like the end, Osmund could feel no conclusion approaching, it felt like something else, as if this was all leading into something more, some grand massacre the likes of which Osmund had never seen. There’s a darkness ahead, something far worse to come than the echoes of a fallen monarchy, and as Osmund stands he can feel it inside of him, gesturing sensually, awaiting his return to the beginning. In a mental prison of nonexistent existence lies the mother, a slight smile on her lips. She awaits the grasp of Osmund forevermore.

Je viens de tomber sur cet article des Echos (paywall): https://www.lesechos.ffinance-marches/gestion-actifs/les-etf-actifs-prennent-leur-envol-1919762
Il existerait donc des ETFs... gérés activement.
Peu de résultats pour "ETF actif" dans le google français, j'ai trouvé ces articles:
https://www.sfaf.com/les-actualites-et-publications/actualite/470/les-etf-actifs-effet-de-mode-ou-tendance-de-fond
https://bsdinvesting.com/fnouvelles/les-etf-actifs-en-europe-mirage-du-meilleur-des-deux-mondes-ou-realite-inconnue-la-verite-est-ailleurs/
En anglais:
https://www.investopedia.com/terms/a/actively-managed-etf.asp
"An actively managed ETF features many of the same benefits of a traditional exchange-traded fund like price transparency, liquidity, and tax efficiency, but with a fund manager that can adapt the fund to changing market conditions. The combination of active management and an ETF provides investors with an innovative solution to asset management.
​

• An actively managed ETF is a form of exchange-traded fund that has a manager or team making decisions on the underlying portfolio allocation
• Generally, an actively managed ETF does not adhere to any passive investment strategy.
• An actively managed ETF will have a benchmark index, but managers may deviate from the index as they see fit.
• Advantages to actively managed ETFs include lower expense ratios, participation of seasoned financial professionals, and the opportunity for benchmark-beating returns.
• Many actively managed ETFs have higher expense ratios than traditional index ETFs, which puts pressure on fund managers to consistently outperform the market."

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Pour moi, c'est pas super clair. Je ne vois pas bien ce qui différencie un "ETF actif" d'un simple fonds actif. Ça remet en question ma définition de "ETF", que je pensais être un produit exclusivement passif.
Connaissez-vous? Qu'en pensez-vous?
edit: une liste d'ETFs actifs sur JustETF: https://www.justetf.com/en/find-etf.html?productGroup=epg-activeEtfs