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For a significant part of my life, people told me not to be afraid of monsters.

When it got dark and I was scared, my mother would look under the tables and in the closets. I always admired how brave she was as she threw open the closet doors and pulled up the tablecloths. I used to think that the monsters were scared away because of how fearless she was. Against her courage, they simply vanished as if they were never there.

Then, she would tell me not to be afraid. After all, there's nothing in the closets to worry about, and nothing under the table to hurt you. What was I so scared of? As much as I asked myself that question, I always got scared again.

At some point soon after, people started telling me to be afraid.

They say it started just before I was born: one day, they were merely shadows and stories without substance, and the next, they were descending from the hidden places where humanity was afraid to look. They say our world changed when we learned we were sharing it with monsters.

At some point, our neighborhood changed when they came to our doors. I was too young to understand what was happening at the time. Ordaining myself the guardian warrior of our home, I started opening the closets and checking under the tables myself. Every time I looked, I found nothing that seemed like our new neighbors.

The streets buzzed with talk of monsters--not just here, but all around the world. I saw them on TV, heard about them on the radio, and read about them on the Web, yet no matter what anyone said, I never found a single bogeyman.

I never stopped looking, and over time I grew a little more confident of the truth that I had found for myself.

It was a changing time for everyone, they said. I grew a metre, then lost a foot. I learned that change is difficult and painful. After I learned to walk again and got released, even my school had changed, and again people told me not to be afraid. That first year passed in a blur.

Things are a little clearer now, but I'm still trying. I've made up the time I missed in physical therapy, and my second year at Yamaku Academy is now in full swing. There are people like me here, but there's also something else, something truly monstrous.

I'm tired of being afraid.

- -- --- -- -



Hello, and welcome to what is possibly the strangest thing I've ever done. This is my first public attempt at long-form fiction, so things are likely to get bumpy. Please keep any and all arms, legs, tails, and other appendages inside the vehicle. Emergency exits can be found at the top of your browser window. If you feel ill, check for bites and then flee while you still can. Ready? Ready.



Monsters Like Us
01. Shared Facilities
02. Cacophony
03a. Hits and Misses (Part 1)
03b. Hits and Misses (Part 2)
04a. Shadows (Part 1)
04b. Shadows (Part 2)




"There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion." — Francis Bacon, Of Beauty

01. Shared Facilities

I gather a pair of unused swimming trunks from my drawers, then fall back onto my bed. The trunks slide easily over my leg, and then once they're buttoned, I begin securing my prosthetic limb to my thigh.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pull a soft sock over my thigh and then fit my prosthesis over it. I've done this so many times before that it feels like it takes no time at all. After waking up the little computer inside the prosthesis and unlocking the knee and ankle, I'm officially bipedal again.

I pack my school bag with a change of clothes and then lock my dorm door as I leave. The dormitory hallways are empty, but not silent. As I pass the dormitory common room, I see someone moving in the dimly-lit dining area. The diminutive silhouette disappears behind a dividing wall into the kitchen and the sounds of movement stop. In the two weeks since school started, I've yet to see who's there. I've poked my head in to look and say hello, but whoever or whatever they are, they're skittish.

Continuing past the common room, I exit the dorm building and step outside into the crisp new morning. This early, the school seems deserted. There won't be any signs of Yamaku Academy's new brand of livelihood until later. It's too early to prepare for today's classes, and too late to witness the mythical dispersal after night classes.

A short distance from the dorm entrance, I reach the stairs leading down to the main path. I descend them carefully, holding onto the short wall running along its side to account for some of the balance my prosthesis can't provide. At the bottom, the pathway is bordered on one side by Yamaku's Great White Wall. The paint is scratched and fading, revealing hints of the colors and patterns hidden beneath the outermost coat. Continuing past the Wall, I leave the dorms behind.

There's a garden area of sorts between the dorms and the main school buildings. The school grounds are well maintained, and the greens and whites and other signs of spring mix together under the warm light spilling over the world. Sights like this make me glad to wake up early. I don't see any unusual surprises or traps among the bushes and trees, but lounging alone on a bench, I find a cat-eared boy wearing the school uniform. My prosthesis accounts for the sudden change in my step and I pass by, saying good morning. He smiles and answers likewise.

I follow the pathways past the main school building until I reach Yamaku's trademark auxiliary building, where medical offices and physical therapy rooms are housed. This building is always open, I've been told, to accommodate nocturnal types. As a result, anyone who wishes to use the facilities are free to do so at any time, provided they get clearance from one of the staff members.

I knock politely on the open door to the head nurse's office. The young, thinly-mustachioed man comes out from the back room with a fresh, steaming cup of coffee and an armful of files.

"Good morning, sir," I say. "I came to request permission to use the pool, as we discussed last week."

"Good morning, Mukagishi. Permission granted," the nurse says as he sets down his files. He's about to take a sip of his coffee when something seems to cross his mind.

"I don't think I need to say this in your case, but I'll remind you to please be considerate of others while using shared facilities such as the pool," he says with a smile.

The line sounds like something newly rehearsed, and it comes across as awkwardly as his smile.

"Of course. Is there someone swimming this early?" I ask.

"Perhaps," he says with a furrowed brow. "They may have left."

He looks down to my leg. When I'm wearing shorts, like the swimming trunks I have on now, my prosthesis is clearly visible.

"Not that I think you're in any danger, Mukagishi, but it is my responsibility to remind you to be careful in the water," the nurse says.

"Of course, sir. I'll let you know when I'm done," I say.

"That would be much appreciated," he says with a smile.

Near the end of the corridor, I find the door to the pool room. It creaks a little as I pull it open.

This room is big. There's space all around the pool to move around, and the ceiling is rather high. The two entrances to the locker rooms stand at opposite ends of the adjacent wall. Colored tiles along the walls are arranged in a pleasing green and blue wave mosaic, lit by the overhead lights. The pool interior has a much simpler design: a solid light-blue, broken only by the seams between the tiles. The pool is bordered by a square lip about a palm's height, tiled with a darker blue than the interior to make it easily noticeable. There are ladders in each corner except one at the shallow end, where there's a short ramp with handrails fixed to the lip instead.

There's water on the floor, and as I approach the men's locker room, my bare foot and prosthesis send little, dissonant splashes echoing through the space. I have to be careful, though; my prosthesis doesn't have the same traction as a flesh-and-bone foot.

The empty space is inviting, as if it wants to be filled with activity. At the moment, however, there's no one here. A quick check of the locker room confirms it: I've got the whole pool to myself for my first morning swim. Well, it's not too bad. If I can get back into my good old habits, I'd like to start swimming in the mornings a few times per week.

After depositing my bag into a locker, I take a towel and then return to the pool. I can't swim wearing my prosthesis, so I sit down on a bench and start to take it off. I lock the ankle and knee, making the artificial limb stiff and easier to handle. With practiced efficiency, I remove the prosthesis and sock from my thigh and then lay them on a towel on the bench. Moving from the bench to the pool's edge is as easy as a couple of scoots across the floor.

And then I'm in the water. The cool pressure against my skin is like a hug from an old friend. The weight of my body vanishes and I indulge in a few relaxing minutes spent floating on my back. The warm light of the sun spills into the room through the windows. Green and blue mix with the morning light along the walls.

I roll into the sky-colored water and dive. Every direction opens up to me. First, I go down, down to the bottom of the shallow end, where I plant my palm and then rise to the surface. It's been a while, and it's more difficult than I remember.

Swimming is like riding a bike: You never forget, but you're going to get sore if you haven't been keeping up. There's also the complication of my leg, but as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter once I'm in the water.

After warming up, I think I'm ready to do a handful of easy laps. As I rest against the pool wall for a moment, something catches my eye. The tile pattern at the bottom of the pool wiggles through the water's rippling surface. I stare for a few seconds, thinking I'll see something, but it's just the water playing tricks on my eyes.

The first few laps go well as I quickly find my groove. It's strange, but it seems there's no chlorine in the water. I wonder how they keep it clean. This school certainly doesn't seem to want for money, so it can probably afford whatever it deems necessary.

The final lap of the day complete, I rest against the pool wall again to catch my breath, when I think I see something in one of the corners at the deep end. It looks like some of the tiles moved. I'm too far away to see it clearly through the water's surface, but it almost looks like the tile seams no longer line up. A moment later, the tiles and seams together grow like they're being inflated and then shrink again.

There's something down there. The shock sends my heart racing and an awful uneasiness wraps around my head and neck as the length of the pool seems to contract. My thoughts stumble over the urge to get out of the water as fast as possible, but one stubborn thought stays put, a question that keeps me stuck to the edge of the pool: who's there?

There's someone in the water with me; that's not weird, right? What, or rather, who are they?

As my breathing deepens from the fright, the tiles inflate and then shrink again. Little black lines appear on the tile surface, growing more distinct as the water calms. The tile shimmers, and then the seams correct themselves. Then the black lines vanish.

Curiosity overpowers my instincts, as a part of me considers that if I was in any danger, then I'd have been attacked already. What am I so scared of?

For a moment, the black lines appear and then disappear again.

I decide to take advantage of the lack of chlorine and peek under the water's surface. Holding my breath, I watch for as long as I can, but the lines don't reappear. Taking another breath, I slowly swim a little closer to the deep end. The very corner of the pool looks like it's been filled in and tiled over.

I notice a part of something, the same color as the tile, sticking out over a seam, and then the illusion breaks. It occurs to me that the tile shouldn't curve like that, and then I can almost make out an outline of something curled up in the corner. As much as I want to get closer, I have to return to the surface for air.

Just after I break the surface, something grabs me. One breath is all I get before something grabs my remaining ankle and tugs me down. Countless tiny things brush against me as the end of the stump of my other leg is squeezed by something strong. A blast of powerful current shoves me, and then it's over in a fraction of a second.

As soon as I'm released, I fling my arms trying to make for the surface again, only to realize that my head wasn't pulled under at all. My first thought is to get out of the water, and I surmount the pool's edge like an Olympian gymnast conquering the saddle horse.

Out of the water, I check the end of my thigh, where I find a little red spot blooming. Movement in my periphery vision draws my eyes back into the pool, where a blotch of tile sticks out like a sore thumb even through the excited water. It shifts and wiggles into the corner, wrapping around itself until it freezes still and then vanishes into the tile pattern.

I don't know how long I spend looking down into the water, my heart counting the half-seconds. Every minute or so, the black lines flash and then vanish. It's so obvious, now that I've seen them, that I wonder how I didn't notice before.

The red spot at the end of my thigh doesn't get any worse, and I realize that it wasn't bad to start with. I look over my arms and leg, checking for more marks, and find similar, smaller red spots around my ankle. The feeling of... whatever those things were remains on my skin, but gradually the sensation fades and makes me aware that time is passing. Eventually I calm down sitting on the pool's edge.

The clock on the wall tells me I've been here longer than I had planned. Classes start in less than an hour. I need to shower and--oh, right; there's no chlorine to wash off. Still, I need to go back to the dorms and get ready for school.

I scoot over to the bench where my things are, keeping an eye on the water. After drying myself off, I replace the sock and prosthesis, then wrap the towel over my thigh to keep my damp trunks from getting the sock wet. This lets me walk to the locker room and change into dry shorts and a t-shirt. I go through the routine of removing and replacing the prosthesis again in order to change, but it's only a minor inconvenience and it helps calm me down. My prosthetic limb is water-resistant, but it's easier and quicker to keep it dry rather than to dry it off.

After leaving the locker room, I take one last look into the water. The corner in the deep end is empty now, looking like any other square corner in any other pool. Did they get out? I didn't hear any sounds of splashing. Or perhaps they simply moved? I search the pool, but I don't see any bulges in the other corners. With a nervous glance at the clock, I give up and exit the pool room.

I knock on the nurse's office and find him sitting at his desk, writing in files.

"All done, sir," I say.

"Thanks for letting me know," he says with a smile. "Did your first morning go well?"

"Yes, it went well. Got a little surprise from the other person in there," I say with a laugh.

The nurse doesn't laugh with me; instead, he seems a little nervous.

"Was there any trouble?" he asks.

He glances to my prosthetic leg as if he knows more than he should, then his eyes scan the rest of my limbs.

What am I supposed to tell him? I don't even know what happened, myself. Was I attacked? No, I wasn't hurt, and looking back, it doesn't seem like the person in the pool was trying to. In fact, they were hiding. Hiding from me? I wasn't even in any danger, really; my head wasn't pulled underwater, and it's not like I'm a beginner in the water, anyway. All I know for sure is that I was grabbed by someone, and... that's it? What was I so scared of?

"No, it's no trouble. Just something unexpected," I say.

The nurse's smile wavers, as if the word unexpected means something far more sinister to him than it does to me. He looks me over again, then looks down and scans his file-covered desk. The clock on the wall reminds me of the time.

"I'll be going now," I say. "May I use the pool again in a couple days?"

"Of course, Mukagishi. Come again please, you're always welcome. Enjoy your Monday," the nurse says with sudden enthusiasm.

On my way back to the dorms, I consider what happened. There had been someone in the pool with me and I hadn't seen them. How long was that person in the pool? How long can they stay in there? Do they come out? Who are they? What are they?

There's still a lot I don't understand about the world. As I walk, I pass by a few fellow students getting out and about for the morning, which is now in full vigor. Two human girls pass by discussing one of their classes. Lying in the grass, away from the path but not from stares, are a girl with scales along her limbs and a boy with the lower body of a snake. In the shadow of a tree, a boy with a walking cane is trying to help a girl with a tail carefully fit music earbuds into her very-not-human ears.

There's a lot I don't understand quite yet, but I'm trying my best.

02. Cacophony

The events of this morning stick in my mind like a baited hook. It teases me as I gather my books, it teases me throughout classes, and it teases me as I sit here now for lunch.

"Did something happen this morning, dude?"

My friend's hand hovers over my tray of food. I swipe at it to show I'm paying attention.

"Kind of," I say. "Hey Ken, do you know anything about the swimming pool?"

"I don't even know where it is," he says. "You went this morning, right? How was it? Meet any girls?"

He swishes his head to get the hair out of his eyes, but failing that, he brushes his bangs to the side. While he's interested, I decide to tease him. Maybe Ken will join me if there's something for him to look forward to.

"You could say that."

It's technically not a lie, nor is it stretching the truth; since I didn't see anyone else's things in the men's locker room, it's reasonable to assume that the person in the pool with me could have been a girl.

"Oooh, any cute ones?" he asks.

"They certainly left an impression," I say.

Ken gives me a funny look.

"A good impression?" he asks.

"I'll be going back on Wednesday. And Friday, too," I say. "Maybe she'll be there. You should come along, it'll be fun."

Ken chews his food slowly and hums in thought. From our vantage point, Ken and I catch a glimpse of movement and then look up to see a group of chatting girls enter the cafeteria. The cacophony of conversations around us is too chaotic to tell for sure, but as I listen, I feel as if the volume of the room increases with their addition.

"How many limbs did she have?" Ken asks.

It's that question again. I think I go unconscious momentarily. The phrase rolls down a well-worn path into one ear and out the other. Like a word repeated too often, it has conditioned such apathy in me that I've honestly forgotten if it was ever meant to be a joke at some point. If it was, then it seems Ken wasn't told.

The memory of countless points of sensation along my leg makes me shiver.

"Okay, I know, I know," Ken says.

More movement draws our eyes to the cafeteria entrance again.

The room contracts as many of its occupants' heads are pulled by an invisible string towards the entrance. Conversations are left dangling as those who cannot see the source of fascination continue in ignorance before realizing that they're not being listened to. Many of them continue anyway, perhaps in spite. Three uniformed students enter through the open doors; none of them are human.

The situation opens like a bad joke: A dog, a cat, and a cyclops walk into a room together. There's a leaden pause where they can't remember the next line, but the cyclops girl seems to know enough to walk shakily towards the food counters. The cat boy and dog girl follow after her, returning the glances of students sitting at the tables while their upright ears scan the gradually derailing conversations.

As the trio reaches the food counters, some of the room's previous volume returns, though the conversations are no longer the same. The cyclops girl takes an empty lunch tray and says something to the other two. The tray quivers as she looks over the counters, calming as she fills it with food. The cat boy and dog girl settle for a single small bread each.

The girl pays for the meals, and then the other two lead her back the way they came. I wonder where they're going to sit until I realize that they're headed for the open doors. I don't need to hear what they say to each other to know what happens; there's a brief discussion at the entrance before the cat boy and dog girl turn and leave with apologetic gestures.

The cyclops girl stands still, staring through the doors. She then turns slowly back towards the room, and the room turns away from her. Finding a seat away from everyone else, she goes to it and sits alone, making for the single worst punchline ever.

Ken sighs.

"Yeah," I say.

As minutes pass, the volume of the cafeteria rises. A few talkers remain rogue, bold enough to discuss the food, but most gradually build into something sounding like a symphony where everyone plays the same, tired notes.

The girl's eye is large enough to make her stick out among all the human heads. When she turns and looks behind her, or rather when her eye isn't visible, she seems almost human. I find myself wondering how far down she would have to look to block out the rest of the cafeteria.

"You're staring, dude," Ken says.

"Ah. Thanks," I say.

"There's gonna be more of them, you know. More monsters."

"At the school?"

"Everywhere," Ken says. "Here, take a look at this."

Ken pulls a paper out of his school bag and hands it to me.

It's a printed article from some news website. I don't recognize the name. The headline reads 'MAN-MONSTER MARRIAGE BILL RUMORED'.

"Marriage?"

"Yeah, can you believe it?" Ken says. "I mean, I don't get it. If this goes through, people are gonna be marrying their cats and stuff. It's like, what's next? Plus, the marriage rate is already pitiful, and this will just make it plummet."

"Why would that happen? Wait, is this why you think there will be more of them? Would marriage grant them more rights?" I ask.

"I dunno, dude. But what's weird is that they're coming over here more than last year. Like, suddenly the rules don't apply anymore. I've never seen so many of them. Somebody said the staff were giving them tours of our building during classes. People are scared," Ken says.

As I watch the cyclops girl, time seems to slow and hang until finally, it stops. The girl stares at her lunch tray, not moving. From here, I can see the color of her iris, a rich green ring that matches our school uniform colors around an enormous pupil. She blinks and time resumes, and after looking around at a few other students, she continues eating.

"What's there to be afraid of?" I ask. "Weren't they always here?"

"Dude, I'm telling the truth," Ken says. "That one over there looks a little shakey, but some of the others? Watch out. Watch how they look at you. Most of them have predator's eyes. Hungry eyes. They're hungry."

"Because it's lunch time?"

"No, man! They're hungry for us!"

"You've got to be kidding me," I say as a snicker falls out of my throat. I feel bad for laughing, but I feel worse for Ken. He's yet to realize just how bad of a comedian he is; the audience is supposed to laugh at the jokes.

"Damn it, Ken. You don't hear them talking about you like that, do you?"

"It's not like they don't talk about us, too," he says, deflecting the sharpness of my remark. "And they're not the only predators out there, you know. Have you talked to any? Since they're roaming around now?"

Not when they're keeping their distance like this. They may be walking the grounds now, but that doesn't mean anyone's getting close. Maybe a handful are taking that chance. There certainly wasn't any talking in the pool this morning. Oh, but there was that cat boy on the bench.

"I've said good morning to one, but that's all."

"I thought you'd have talked to one," he says. "You've been caught up in their charms, I think."

I recall the feeling of a strong grip around my ankle.

"So anyway, that's enough crazy talk," Ken says. "Really, what happened at the pool?"

As if I know? It felt like the nurse knew more about what was going on than I did. Well, of course he would; he's a staff member. I'll have to ask the next time I see him on Wednesday.

"A part of the tile tried to shake my hand," I say. Come to think of it, I never got the chance to shake back.

Ken stops eating and looks at me with worry.

"For real? Why?"

If my punchline falls flat, does that make me a bad comedian too?

"Don't know. Maybe I'm just too charming," I try again.

"Hehe, yeah, maybe."

There's a brief moment of silence in memory of the god of comedy.

"Huh? Wait... was it a monster?" Ken says in revelation. "They let one in the pool with you?"

"The nurse wasn't worried, so neither was I."

"Doesn't mean anything, dude. He's in on it. The whole staff is, I'm telling you," Ken says, "we're being trained, man. They're making us get used to them, trying to get us friendly. Pretty soon they'll be here, and they'll let them wrap you up and prick you and sting you, then before you know it, your brain is mush and it's complete monster victory."

"Damn it, Ken."

If the cyclops girl's straggling march was a sign of victory, then it seems we're all doomed. I glance over to her table, but she's gone now, tray and all. The room returns to its normal murmur by the time lunch is over.

The hallways and classroom buzz with talk of the cyclops girl until the bell rings to begin classes. By the end of the day, the news is already old.

Finally decided to go ahead, eh? I'm excited for more characters to reference.

So far this seems to avoid MonMusu's more... tedious elements. Hope it continues to do so.

And I think I can guess where the inspiration for Ken is drawn from

'complete monster victory'... boy am I glad the main character's name isn't Luka.
Anyway, this is pretty awesome, man. Keep it up!

I always thought this would be a natural cross-over for two reasons:

1. Yamaku has the facilities that would allow for critters to adjust to a human dominated environment -- especially if they aren't equipped with """standard""" set of human limbs.
2. Hachisame.

It helps that this first installment is well written.

You sold me on the title but god damn, that's some damn fine writing, Desire! You've certainly got my interest!

Figures Kenji(or his proxy) would be against monsters. Guy's a dick-bag.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Blank Mage wrote:Finally decided to go ahead, eh? I'm excited for more characters to reference.

And I'm excited to foolishly follow said references to my doom. Thanks Blank

Mirage_GSM wrote:So far this seems to avoid MonMusu's more... tedious elements. Hope it continues to do so.

"Tedious" is one way of putting it... I'd like to avoid that. I'm using monmusu as a generic term, but if that's wrong, then please let me know.

Oscar Wildecat wrote:I always thought this would be a natural cross-over for two reasons:

1. Yamaku has the facilities that would allow for critters to adjust to a human dominated environment -- especially if they aren't equipped with """standard""" set of human limbs.
2. Hachisame.

These very ideas were the first sparks of the story, actually.

Oscar Wildecat wrote:It helps that this first installment is well written.

Sharp-O wrote:You sold me on the title but god damn, that's some damn fine writing, Desire! You've certainly got my interest!

Thanks so much! Hopefully I can keep your interest going forward!

You finally posted! So happy for you!

I confess, my immediate reaction to seeing the thread title was "oh boy, crossover. With that monster girl hentai thing, too".

Then I read it.

Props, man, this is pretty damn good. I probably should be having more faith in the writers of this forum by this point. You've certainly got a pretty strong set up.
My one possible problem is that it looks just a little like your mc is going to come down with a severe case of VN protagonistitis.

Either way, I'm in!

Alpacalypse wrote: My one possible problem is that it looks just a little like your mc is going to come down with a severe case of VN protagonistitis.

I'm no doctor, but that sounds fatal.

Mohn_Jadden wrote:

Alpacalypse wrote: My one possible problem is that it looks just a little like your mc is going to come down with a severe case of VN protagonistitis.

I'm no doctor, but that sounds fatal.

By which I mean "lack of many/any defining character traits in a protagonist, usually in order to allow the audience to project themselves onto the sufferer." It can be potentially fatal to a story if severe enough. And, no, attraction to monster girls, strange as that may seem in-universe or IRL, doesn't count as a defining character trait IMO. unless he's attracted exclusively to monster girls, for some reason

However, it's the first two chapters. I was just saying it so as to bring it to strange desire's attention, there's only the slightest hints of it at that point. I wouldn't get my knickers in a twist over it right now.

strange desire wrote:Thank you all so much for reading!

Oscar Wildecat wrote:I always thought this would be a natural cross-over for two reasons:

1. Yamaku has the facilities that would allow for critters to adjust to a human dominated environment -- especially if they aren't equipped with """standard""" set of human limbs.
2. Hachisame.

These very ideas were the first sparks of the story, actually.

So does that mean the cyclops is Hitomi?

Oddball wrote:So does that mean the cyclops is Hitomi?

Not anymore. One of the first drafts (during the "fun with monsters!" phase) was subtitled With Apologies to Oddball, but the cyclops character has since undergone multiple revisions, gender swaps, and even point-of-view changes. There's some of Hitomi in there still because Freaks and Friends is one of my favorites on the forums and I'd recommend anyone interested in cynical cyclopes to check it out, but the similarities are now conceptual rather than personal. I have no doubt that the inspiration will peek through at some point(s). Any similarities between Hachisame and the pool monster are superficial, though.

Alpacalypse wrote:My one possible problem is that it looks just a little like your mc is going to come down with a severe case of VN protagonistitis.

Mohn_Jadden wrote:I'm no doctor, but that sounds fatal.

I'd like to avoid that! Criticisms are always welcome, and the scenes here would be mere fractions of their current state without the generous help of the editors. There is more to come!