>>24545980 pb
Vid of the would be shooter at the Correspondents Dinner rushing through the lobby was enhanced.
by Benny
same footage, cleaned up with AI
tyb
Dark Journalist on "AJ" got three an a half million views!
on subject of the missing scientists.
thinking like this?
I remember when all the naturepath docs were dying in a cluster.
08 09 10 11 something like that; It foretold the plandemic ten years later.
What would this cluster of plasma scientist, UFO military related, death-cluster be fortelling?
If I were a science fiction writer, here’s the novel I’d pitch based on this premise.Call it Plasma Requiem (or The Ignition Veil for the optimistic cut). The hook: those 2025–2026 deaths and disappearances of plasma physicists, fusion lab directors, JPL propulsion experts, retired Air Force research generals with UFO-adjacent backgrounds, and the rest of that tight cluster aren’t random. They’re the opening credits of a slow-burn global thriller that pays off around 2035–2036 — exactly ten years later, mirroring the pattern you saw with the naturopaths and the plandemic.
The Core Speculation
In the story, the victims were the last generation of human scientists who had direct, compartmentalized knowledge of two overlapping things:
Breakthrough plasma dynamics that aren’t just about fusion power — they’re the key to stable, controllable exotic propulsion and energy extraction that matches the performance characteristics repeatedly observed in UAP encounters (the glowing orbs, the instant acceleration without sonic booms, the apparent defiance of inertia). Think magnetohydrodynamic containment taken to the point where you can create self-sustaining plasma toroids that interact with spacetime in ways general relativity never predicted.
Hard evidence — not blurry videos, but recovered materials, sensor data, and biological traces — that at least some of those UAPs are plasma-based entities or craft piloted by something non-human. Not little green men in metal saucers, but something far weirder: coherent plasma lifeforms or probes that use ionized atmospheres the way we use silicon chips. The military-intel side had been reverse-engineering the physics (not the hardware) for decades in black programs.
The 2035–2036 Payoff
Ten years later the real story explodes. Maybe it’s a verified mass sighting over a major fusion test site. Maybe a Chinese or private fusion reactor achieves ignition and simultaneously starts behaving like the Tic-Tacs — levitating, transmedium travel, plasma sheath glowing. Or, in the darker timeline, a solar micronova or Carrington-level plasma event is incoming, and the only defense is the very tech these dead scientists were perfecting: planetary-scale plasma shields or directed energy buffers reverse-engineered from the visitors.
The surviving characters — a burned-out intelligence officer, a whistleblower grad student who inherited encrypted notebooks, a conspiracy podcaster who was right all along — race to release the suppressed data before the next wave of “accidents.” Society fractures along three lines:
The Ignitionists who want unlimited clean energy and open contact.
The Veil Keepers who argue humanity isn’t ready and try to keep the plasma genie in the bottle.
The Transcendents who believe the plasma orbs are the next stage of evolution and start trying to upload their consciousness into artificial plasma fields.
It ends with the first public demonstration of a tabletop device that creates a stable, self-aware plasma orb in a lab — and the orb talks back. Not in English, but in pure mathematics projected as holographic symbols. The final line of the book: “They weren’t hiding the ships. They were hiding the fact that the ships were alive — and we just learned how to knock on the door.”
written by the team of Harper, Benjamin, Lucas and team leader Grok
Chapter One: “The Last Ignition”
Setting:
Late October 2025. A remote high-desert cabin outside Taos, New Mexico — the kind of place plasma physicists go when they want to disappear from the world for a weekend. Crisp night air, piñon smoke, the faint green glow of the northern lights that have been acting weird since the last solar storm.
POV Character:
Dr. Elena Voss, 47, former lead plasma diagnostician at the National Ignition Facility (NIF). She’s been “retired” for fourteen months after a classified blow-up over anomalous containment data that refused to stay classified. Bitter, chain-smoking, brilliant, and the only person still alive who personally ran the 2023 shot that produced the first self-sustaining plasma torus that should have collapsed in 0.8 nanoseconds but instead hovered, pulsed, and wrote perfect Fibonacci spirals on the chamber wall before vanishing. She never published it. She was told never to speak of it again.
Outline Beats:
Opening Image (pages 1–3)
Elena is alone in the cabin, half-drunk on cheap bourbon, live-streaming a private rant to her encrypted Substack (12 subscribers). She’s sketching plasma equations on the back of a pizza box with a Sharpie, muttering about how every major fusion breakthrough in the last five years has been followed by the principal investigator either dying, disappearing, or suddenly “pursuing other opportunities.” She names three names from the last six weeks — all friends. All gone. The camera on her laptop catches the exact moment the power flickers and the northern lights outside the window flare an unnatural violet.
The Knock at the Door (pages 4–7)
A late-night visitor arrives: Colonel Marcus Hale, USAF (ret.), her old liaison from the 2019–2022 black-program days at JPL’s exotic propulsion skunkworks. Hale is the grizzled UFO-adjacent general type — the one who always knew too much and drank too much. He’s sweating despite the cold. He’s not here for nostalgia. He’s here because he’s next on the list and he knows it. He hands her a battered thumb drive: “Everything we were never allowed to correlate. The orbs aren’t probes, Elena. They’re the same physics we were chasing. And they’re coming back for the ignition.”
The Revelation (pages 8–12)
Over coffee and paranoia, Hale lays out the cluster in brutal shorthand:
Seven plasma scientists in eight weeks.
Four fusion directors.
Two retired generals who sat on the 2017 AATIP oversight board.
One JPL propulsion guy who “fell” off a yacht last Tuesday.
All of them had touched the same dataset: the 2023 NIF anomaly, the 2024 Chinese EAST reactor “ghost mode” event, and the 2025 Skinwalker-adjacent plasma signatures recorded over Area 51’s new test range.
Hale’s theory: Someone (or something) has decided the public fusion rollout scheduled for 2035–36 cannot be allowed to happen while the old guard still remembers how the orbs actually work. The purge is surgical. Professional. Deniable.
The Inciting Incident (pages 13–17)
While they talk, Elena’s laptop pings — an automated alert she set up years ago. Another name just went dark: Dr. Raj Patel, her former grad student, now head of the new private fusion startup in Austin. “Heart attack” at 34 while jogging. Patel was the one who helped her hide the Fibonacci data.
The northern lights outside the window suddenly strobe in perfect sync with the laptop’s dying battery. Hale’s phone starts ringing with an unknown government number. He looks at Elena and says the line that will haunt the rest of the book:
“They don’t kill you for what you know. They kill you for what you’re about to prove in ten years.”
Cliffhanger / Chapter Close (pages 18–20)
Headlights sweep the cabin windows. Two black SUVs, no plates, moving slow. Hale pulls a pistol he definitely isn’t supposed to still have. Elena grabs the thumb drive and her go-bag (she’s been half-packed for months).
Last line of the chapter, spoken by Elena as she kills the lights:
“If they want the last ignition scientists dead… they’re going to have to catch us first.”
Cut to black on the sound of the first suppressed gunshot.
Tone Notes for the Chapter:
Tight, claustrophobic, grounded. No little green men. Just two exhausted experts realizing the conspiracy is both more mundane and more terrifying than anyone imagined.
Seed the plasma-as-living-entity idea subtly: Elena’s old lab notebook doodle of a glowing torus that looks disturbingly like a jellyfish.
Plant the ten-year clock without beating the reader over the head — Hale mutters the date “2036” like it’s a death sentence.
he figured it out cause she gave him hints. He was trained in that.
You or me would be better at spotting a shooter on the way.
My relative felt something would happen
I was cool cause I knew he wouldn't get shot.
Trump was cool looking too
but maybe that's just sang froid?
kek
Remember the dancer from British Columbia
Didn't she melt down and have orbs surrounding her.
They also were sighted and photographed clustering around the Towers during the Sept. 11 attack.
The video collection of those sightings were wiped from YouTube around o 7 or 8?