News Apple Has Acquired Severance and Committed to a Fourth Season (and Maybe More) Apple is betting big on Severance, but Ben Stiller is pushing back on Deadline’s behind-the-scenes claims By Molly Templeton | Published on February 12, 2026 Image: Apple TV Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Apple TV Apple TV’s massive hit Severance was made, for its first two seasons, by the production company Fifth Season. But now it’s Apple’s toy in full: Deadline reports that Apple has purchased the series—”the IP and all rights”—from Fifth Season, which will shift to an executive producing role. What does this mean for you, the viewer? The important part is that it means that Apple is fully committed to the Severance universe. The series was renewed for a third season just before season two ended, but this new deal means that “a fourth season is a lock” according to Deadline, which notes that series creator Dan Erickson and executive producer/director Ben Stiller have spoken previously about seeing Severance as a three or four season series. The decision to continue on to a potential fifth season, Deadline notes, “will be Stiller and Erickson’s,” and at present, it seems unlikely. But there is still the possibility of spinoffs (as Stiller has teased before), or a prequel, or potential foreign versions of the show. Do we want a Severance cinematic universe? Can a show this precise and intimate sustain that kind of expansion? Apple reportedly hopes to start filming in the summer, but also wants the scripts to be locked, to avoid later changes that might have ripple effects through the complex story. Severance is expensive—reportedly each episode runs around $20 million—but part of the reason Apple bought the series outright is that they are more able to manage the possible financial burden of creating it. Deadline’s piece is full of interesting and/or insidery details about how the sausage gets made, from notes about Erickson (“not a traditional TV showrunner”) and Stiller (“a perfectionist creative”) to backstory about the show’s production and the plan to have all the scripts written for season three before production begins. The third season will also have Kogonada (After Yang, The Acolyte) as its producing director. But Stiller himself seems unimpressed with this article. On the site formerly known as Twitter, he replied when Deadline posted it, asking, “Who are you talking to Nellie?” (referring to writer Nellie Andreeva). He also replied to a fan who expressed concern, saying: Do not believe everything you read. Please. That article is all heresay and no sources attributed. All we want to do is make the show as good as possible and maintain it and it’s always been and always will be our (and my) priority. Promise. Stiller appears to be reacting more to the details about the potential shooting schedule and script timelines than the news of Apple purchasing the show, though it’s hard to know for certain. He was quite engaged in the conversation for a bit yesterday. Severance will return, hopefully in less than three years.[end-mark] The post Apple Has Acquired <i>Severance</i> and Committed to a Fourth Season (and Maybe More) appeared first on Reactor.

Column Anime Spotlight Country Fears, City Fears: How Setting Shapes Horror Anime Urban and rural living pose very different dangers, and inspire different kinds of dread. By Leah Thomas | Published on February 12, 2026 Credit: Shaft Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: Shaft “They say when people step onto a train in Japan, they turn into monsters.” These are the words of a coworker, spoken after a friend showed up to work bruised by a furious woman who’d shoulder-checked her during the morning commute.  When I first moved to Tokyo from Tottori, I told myself I was immune to the infamous crush of Tokyo’s rush-hour trains. I once lived in Taipei, after all, and have battled more than a few crowds at anime and book conventions. I am tall and slightly impervious to elbows. However, my current commute takes me straight through Shibuya at 8 am. Inhaling the coughs of other people, helplessly pressing into a stranger’s face with your backpack or vice versa, being pushed by polite but persistent gloved hands into a train so that the doors can close—these are all daily occurrences. But, like many places around the world, Japan is currently experiencing a spike in racism and xenophobia. While my life remains decent and I benefit from the unwarranted privileges granted Caucasian residents, I’ve endured my fair share of distressing encounters on the train: a middle-aged woman muttering under her breath, calling me a “dirty foreigner”; a teenager deliberately blocking my path to the door and laughing when I tried to get around him; an old woman who shouted at a friend and me to “go back to where [we] came from.”  “I told her not to push me, and she accused me of pushing her instead,” my friend, Suzie, says. She’s just over 150cm, small as anything, but damned if she isn’t tough, and damned if her Japanese isn’t excellent. “It’s such a bad way to start the day.” Boy, is it ever. It’s enough to make you question humanity. The deliberate shoulder-checking of angry passengers, usually young men, has become such a prevalent social phenomenon that its instigators have a name: Butskari Otoko, or “bumping men.” Typically, their vitriol is directed at women walking in the opposite direction at the station; the inherent misogyny is another essay waiting to happen. Credit: Brain’s Base To make the mundane terrors of the commute more bearable, Suzie and I have gamified the experience. If you encounter one of the old dudes who hocks loogies on the sidewalk, that’s twenty points. Someone who stops just past the ticket gates to stare at their phone? That’s ten. A teenager who refuses to shuffle forward when people are trying to get on the train? That’s gotta be, say, fifteen. And if you can stand up to a Butskari Otoko, that’s gotta be a jackpot. “This never happened to me back in Yonago,” I said, shaking my head. Suzie snorted. “Did you even have to take the train in Tottori?” It’s a fair point. I rode a bike to work and never encountered a packed train unless it was a holiday or hanami season.  Even so, it’s funny how much easier it is for me to stomach or even delight in the supposed horrors of the countryside, and how quickly the minuscule horrors of city living have left me low. I was raised in the woods, and that may have something to do with it. I wonder if folks raised in the city find the countryside creepier than I do.  Weigh in with your thoughts, on this little exploration of how the anime horror genre dissects urban and rural life… The Monsters Are Us: Urban Horror in Anime Credit: Madhouse Anime series set in an urban landscape tend to focus on psychological terrors compounded by the stresses of city life. Be it the fear of vanishing in a crowd, the sensation of irrelevance a city instills in its occupants, or the little cruelties people indulge in after the workday ends, life in a Japanese metropolis may feel unsafe even when it is, statistically, not. Satoshi Kon was a master at highlighting the buzzing horror beneath the surface of the urban crush. I have written about Perfect Blue, which tells of a retiring idol being stalked by a hallucination that looks exactly like her. Kon’s final film, Paprika, features a heroine who uses dream-invading technology to help psychiatric patients, at the risk of losing herself.  Kon’s only anime series, the cult gem Paranoia Agent, documents how the rampant build-up of paranoia can destroy a community from the inside out. Set in Musashino, Tokyo, it chronicles the fallout of a series of brutal attacks by a bat-wielding kid on rollerskates. The series is more than an exploration of delinquency, but the grinning juvenile assailant addresses the apprehension Tokyo residents reserve for adolescents who begin stepping out of line.  Paranoia Agent is not the only urban horror anime inspired by true crime. Boogiepop Phantom is a weird little series set a few years after a serial killer has devastated lives in Tokyo. In the wake of the killings, witnesses to the original crimes go missing. An urban legend claims that a figure known as the Boogiepop Phantom is responsible, but that’s just the tip of a much more interesting speculative iceberg. Erased, a doomed dive into regret and time-travel, indulges in melodrama but dares address the topics of child abuse and infanticide. Terror in Resonance, an underappreciated science fiction series by Shinichiro Watanabe, casts two young terrorists as its questionable leads. The pair seek revenge on a government that experimented on them as children, and blow up several skyscrapers to make a statement. An unlikely cousin to Terror is Penguindrum, the chaotic brainchild of Revolutionary Girl Utena creator Kunihiko Ikuhara. What begins as a zany, confusing jaunt involving a magical hat and a few weird kids becomes a meditation on the devastating impact of the Tokyo subway sarin attack conducted by the cult Aum Shinrikyo in 1995, which led to the deaths of 13 people during rush hour. But are these horror series, or just horrifying? What is the horror of city life, aside from being trapped in it? Modern escapism no longer means journeying to an onsen for the weekend. It could mean burying your head in an internet cafe cubicle or pouring free time and coins into addictive mobile games. Among the most popular in Japan are Gacha games—such as Genshin Impact and Nikke—which inevitably encourage players to pay for extra characters and items. More than anything, second-world fantasy games have contributed to the rampant popularity of isekai anime, many of which incorporate horror elements. A flagship series in the genre, Sword Art Online, features a boy bound to a visor, but mostly we see his VR adventures rather than visions of him wasting away in his bedroom.  What has become an adventure genre did not start that way. In the late ’90s and early 2000s, several anime used an overreliance on technology as a basis for horror storytelling. Serial Experiments Lain, an iconic series deserving of its own essay or ten, tells the story of a neglected little girl who befriends an entity online that claims to be the spirit of a classmate who died by suicide. The notion of abandoning a body to join the digital realm has scary implications, but the temptation to do so, given the gray world Lain must subsist in, is understandable. Credit: Brain’s Base Naturally, mobile phones play an essential role in 21st-century horror anime. In Future Diary, a boy is entered into a battle royale game with other people in the city. His phone, which now shares diary entries from the future, may be the item that saves him. In Durarara!!, all characters, human and monstrous, communicate anonymously through chatrooms, and urban legends are given life in those spaces. For all this, the most impactful subgenre of urban horror anime remains dystopian anime. From Akira to Ghost in the Shell, cities of the future have often been depicted as soulless neon hellscapes. Whatever warning that was supposed to provide, however, has often been eclipsed by cyberpunk’s, well, cool factor. But people romanticize cyberpunk because they don’t (yet) live in it. Psycho-Pass, heavily inspired by the works of Philip K. Dick, adopts a perspective borrowed from “The Minority Report,” suggesting that thought-crimes will determine a person’s social standing. However, surveillance has become the norm in our daily lives—so much so that many people film their own houses 24/7, so the idea that the government is watching has become a truth people are largely apathetic to. We put ourselves on the internet, and we don’t dwell on it much. Given the increasingly parasitic role the internet plays in our lives, it’s unsurprising that cyberpunk visions of the future have fallen out of fashion in the urban anime sphere. There’s more to say about that, and about where series like Ergo Proxy and Vivy fit into that mix, but that’s for another time. In general, clearly defined urban horror anime have become harder to pin down. It seems more common for horror elements to bleed into other, more popular genres. Successful shounen anime of the past decade have demonstrated this: Tokyo Ghoul, with its human and ghoul cast competing to live; Jujutsu Kaisen, set primarily in Tokyo, depicts a world in which curses manifest as monsters that must be destroyed. I have written previously about how Chainsaw Man uses gore and horror elements to address the disillusionment of modern adolescence.  Divisive fantasy/horror anthology Bakemonogatari depicts monsters as a more mundane, almost dull occurrence for disaffected, semi-vampiric teen Araragi. A harem anime redeemed by its unusual art direction (Shaft at its experimental peak) and supernatural elements, the series focuses on Araragi’s attempt to rescue girls in his vicinity from various curses and monstrous afflictions. As a rule, these ailments reflect real emotional distress the girls contend with alone. The city carries on—an indifferent, beautifully rendered backdrop of intersecting lines that begins to feel like a cage.  In all of these anime, the true horror is the knowledge that life continues unimpeded. In a city of millions, the plight of a few is mostly business as usual. No matter how the world develops, the most fearsome monsters are human beings themselves, and/or the awful mundanities and casual cruelties of human society. Monsters Defy Us: Rural Horror in Anime Credit: CygamesPictures Rural horror anime, by comparison, remains far more preoccupied with inhuman fears. Tread on the toes of a forgotten mountain god at your own peril. Dare to forget the prevalence of yokai, and you may not live long. The collision between ancient creatures and modern inhabitants is sumptuously explored in my favorite series, The Summer Hikaru Died. A teen named Hikaru goes missing in the mountains only to suddenly reappear weeks later. Only his best friend realizes that this is not Hikaru at all, but an ancient supernatural entity impersonating him. Even so, in the isolation of the inaka, even a substitute friend is worth clinging to. In many anime, the countryside itself is cursed. Junji Ito’s Uzumaki is an iconic example of this trope: the village of Kurouzo-cho is afflicted by a infectious spiral pattern that causes all kinds of bizarre mayhem, culminating in the complete mutation of the landscape. People are transformed into snails. High school girls weaponize their twisting spiral curls. Bodies contort into twisting spirals, and eventually the town itself, plagued by typhoons, becomes a spiral itself.  Another oft-unsung but solid horror anime, Shiki, documents a village’s slow demise when what initially appears to be a deadly epidemic reveals itself to be something more sinister: the town is beset by vampires. When They Cry, a horror anime full of gory bad endings and do-overs, relies on the endless trill of cicadas not only for its title, but for its dire atmosphere. Japan’s many species of cicadas combine until they have an uncanny weight, their cries as tense as violin strings, relentless as tinnitus. While cicadas thrive everywhere in Japan, in the countryside they have little competition when it comes to noise pollution. They are perhaps just loud enough to drown out the whispered warnings of old gods, curses, and monsters. Credit: P.A. Works Impossible to ignore is the abandonment of once-thriving spaces. Sankarea, an anime that somehow balanced ecchi elements and necrophilia without completely alienating its audience, is a peculiar romance. A local girl takes her own life to escape further abuse by her wealthy father, but is reincarnated by a boy obsessed with zombies. Their sickly love story unfolds in a small town complete with fields of hydrangeas, a derelict mansion, and an overgrown shrine. Another, a ghoulish take on a deadly classroom urban legend, traps its characters in a town that feels misplaced in time. The croak of crows, an uncanny porcelain doll shop, and a poorly-lit hospital make the desolation more apparent. Nature is creeping back into town, a reminder that human beings are temporary things. And yet, for all the monsters and empty spaces that proliferate through rural anime, the setting is often imbued with good will. People fear the countryside only as much as they romanticize it. Countless anime series present the monsters of the inaka not as horrific, but as benign or even kind. Away from urban stressors, human beings and yokai seem capable of learning to live harmoniously. This idea is explored in My Neighbor Totoro, Natsume’s Book of Friends, and Poco’s Udon World. Overall, there’s a sense that mankind can never fully domesticate the countryside. Maybe it’s not just the quest for financial stability that inspires people to flee the inaka. But for those who stay, perhaps there is not much to fear after all. Perhaps old monsters are good monsters. Those who’ve been reading my odd little column for a bit may or may not recall that I used to live in Tottori, near the birthplace of yokai mastermind Shigeru Mizuki, the stomping grounds of horror writer Lafcadio Hearn, not far from a mountain said to be occupied by a crow-tengu. I had nothing but immense affection for my local ghosts. In August, I moved to Tokyo, and far from having fallen in love, I regret the decision almost daily. It’s not really fair to a vibrant city with so much to offer, and it’s certainly not Tokyo’s fault that I took a job that turned out to be yet another corrosive, heartless workplace. But the grind of encountering the many miniscule daily terrors of Tokyo depresses me far more than any rural monsters. I pine for a future that may never come to pass: one in which the horrors of modern life begin to feel as manageable and, perhaps, comfortable, as the ghosts in the mountains do.[end-mark] The post Country Fears, City Fears: How Setting Shapes Horror Anime appeared first on Reactor.

News The Wheel of Time The Wheel of Time IP Owners Are Creating an AI-Enabled Platform for the Franchise Yes, you read that right, and I’m sorry By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on February 11, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share Iwot Studios, the company that owns the intellectual property rights to The Wheel of Time is entering into the AI realm and I’m sure folks will be thrilled about it. The company is reportedly working on three projects: an AAA RPG video game, an animated film, and a live-action movie. Doing all three at the same time is hard, you guys. And so iwot Studios turned to the VFX company Framestore to create an AI-enabled venture that they call “a groundbreaking platform for premium entertainment franchises that will enable studios to unify their production environments across film, television, video games, animation, advertising, immersive experiences, social platforms, and user-generated content.” Mmmkay. “It used to be you could do a TV show and then you’d have a year off and do it again,” iwot COO Larry Mondragón told Variety. “Now the standards of a premium quality TV show are so high, the cost of a motion picture, the costs of a triple-A video game, or of a very high-quality animation work, are amazingly expensive, and they create real friction with what a company is trying to do: save costs while trying to get product out there in the market. But in doing so, it creates fragmentation. It sometimes loses its customer while it takes a couple of seasons to get a new series out and a new turn of the show. And we recognize this as an IP owner, that the problem that the market has is the very same problems we’re having ourselves.” Iwot CEO Rick Savage had this to add: “Fans shouldn’t have to wait to experience the worlds they love in the formats they want. The Wheel of Time will be the first IP to benefit from the platform being developed by the JV, so The Wheel of Time can be everywhere our fans are—film, television, video games, immersive, social platforms, and beyond. We will be able to maintain canon control, creative consistency, and security, while meeting our fans wherever they are.” [end-mark] The post The Wheel of Time IP Owners Are Creating an AI-Enabled Platform for the Franchise appeared first on Reactor.

Excerpts fantasy Read an Excerpt From The Fox and the Devil by Kiersten White An obsession with an immortal serial killer entangles a vampire hunter’s daughter… By Kiersten White | Published on February 11, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from The Fox and the Devil, a sapphic gothic fantasy by Kiersten White, out from Del Rey on March 10. Anneke has a complicated relationship with her father, Abraham Van Helsing—doctor, scientist, and madman devoted to the study of vampires—until the night she comes home to find him murdered, with a surreally beautiful woman looming over his body. A woman who leaves no trace behind, other than the dreams and nightmares that now plague Anneke every night.Spurred by her desire for vengeance and armed with the latest forensic and investigatory techniques, Anneke puts together a team of detectives to catch this mysterious serial killer. Because her father isn’t the only inexplicable dead body. There’s a trail of victims across Europe, and Anneke is certain they’re all connected.But during the years spent relentlessly hunting the killer, Anneke keeps crucial evidence to herself: infuriatingly coy letters, addressed only to her, occasionally soaked in blood, and always signed Diavola.The closer Anneke gets to her devil, though, the less sense the world makes. Maybe her father wasn’t a madman after all. Diavola might be something much worse than a serial killer… and much harder to destroy. Yet as Anneke unearths more of Diavola’s tragic past, she suspects there’s still a heart somewhere in that undead body.A heart that beats for Anneke alone. The Paris Exposition Universelle, April 29, 1900 As the crowd screams, all Henri thinks is that he’s going to be in so much trouble when his parents find out. He closes his eyes, trying his best to undo what happened. Unwind his day. End up anywhere but here. The Paris Exposition Universelle— the fair— open at last. Henri had skipped school and walked across the new bridge, with its flying golden horses and naked nymph ladies and delicate glass cattails he wants desperately to steal and secrete away to his own room. He’d gone right by the Grand and Petit Palaces, no interest in waiting just to see some fussy art. The international houses along the river intrigued him, though. They’d only been up for a month and looked so permanent. It makes him sad that they’ll be gone at the end of the year. He had skipped along them, picking which one he would live in so they couldn’t take it away. The Swedish pavilion, with its towers and wooden bridges and bold yellow paint, seemed the best choice. Everyone says there’s nothing this year quite so impressive as the Eiffel Tower from the last fair, but Henri was only a baby then. He’s grown up with that jumble of metal bars and doesn’t think it’s anywhere as fancy as the moving sidewalk encircling the grounds. He’d ridden it around and around, proud of himself for being clever enough to sneak on. It was almost as good as the Ferris wheel. If Henri had enough money, that’s where he’d be now. Not here. He can’t be here, he doesn’t want to be here. He wants the fair to be glorious and fun and exciting. Paris, bursting at the seams with visitors, the world flocking to see his city strutting like a peacock. Maybe he’s still on the sidewalk. Maybe none of this is really happening. Henri squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, feeling the swaying movement, hearing the clatter of the wood slats as they pass over the track. But the screams keep cutting in. He should have stayed on the moving sidewalk. He should have gone to school this morning instead of skipping it. He should never have been so desperate to see the giant painted globe. It’s all the globe’s fault. A spherical building looming near the Eiffel Tower, so bafflingly large, so beautifully painted. His mother had declared none of them would go near it because of the zodiac symbols decorating the exterior. Fortune telling is the devil’s work, she always says. It’s how he lures you in. Maybe she’s right. Because Henri had been lured. He’d walked all around the globe, neck craned up to stare at the paintings. As he walked beneath the floating concrete entrance ramp, there was a rumbling and a cracking and then— Henri tries to move. He opens his eyes. They’re gritty and blurred, but above him he can make out the bars of the Eiffel Tower, painted orange at the base fading to yellow at the top. That’s where he’ll go next. Climb up and spit on the people milling about beneath. Then sneak into the House of Optics to watch the dancers parading in the dark with their glowing costumes. Boast to all his friends that he’d seen them. Lie about what he’d seen, too. He’s always been good at taking a story and making it seem more thrilling or dangerous or interesting. He’s halfway into dreaming about what he’ll do next when a dragging, rattling sound distracts him. It’s coming from his chest. He needs to cough but he can’t. It smells like dirt and dust and blood and he can’t feel his legs anymore. Henri can’t imagine his way out of this. He’s on the ground, the floating concrete ramp is in pieces on top of him, and he can’t feel his body. Buy the Book The Fox and the Devil Kiersten White Buy Book The Fox and the Devil Kiersten White Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget There’s a dust-covered hand next to his shoulder, more gray than pink, like a statue had wandered free of a building and dropped a piece of itself here to keep him company. He wants someone to move the hand, because that’s the only way he can be sure that it isn’t actually his own. He keeps staring at it, willing it to twitch, but nothing happens. Does that mean it is his, or it isn’t? “Whose hand is that?” he tries to shout, but he can’t draw enough breath to form the words. All that comes out is a low, creaking groan, like a door in the darkness swinging slowly open. He doesn’t want to know what’s behind the door. As he tips his head back and searches the crowd, trying to find someone to help him, one face stands out. One face in the dozens, looking on not with horror or fear or panic, but a simple, pleased smile. That face leans closer until it’s all Henri can see. A new smell cuts through the dust and the blood. A sweet scent, almost like his mother and her rosewater perfume. Henri wants his mother. He wants to say he’s sorry, he should have listened, he’ll listen from now on. But he knows he won’t be able to. Henri’s certain now what’s behind that creaking door opening in his body. At last, he feels fear. His mother was right. The devil is here. And Henri is trapped by the icy claws of death, that cloying rose scent, and those bottomless eyes staring down at him. Two nostrils flare as a deep breath is drawn. “Yes,” a voice says, caressing Henri’s clammy skin with pleased tones. “Yes, I’m going to like it here.” Excerpted from The Fox and the Devil, copyright © 2026 by Kiersten White. The post Read an Excerpt From <i>The Fox and the Devil</i> by Kiersten White appeared first on Reactor.

News Helldivers Jason Momoa Will Fight Bugs in Justin Lin’s Helldivers Adaptation But will this character also have a great gold manicure? By Molly Templeton | Published on February 11, 2026 Photo: Universal Pictures Comment 0 Share New Share Photo: Universal Pictures In December, Sony Pictures and PlayStation Productions found a director for their Helldivers movie: Justin Lin, the man widely credited with bringing the Fast and Furious franchise back to life. Lin is a bit divisive in some SFF circles; there are those who enjoyed his beats-and-shouting approach to Star Trek Beyond, and those who did not. (Whatever else there is to say about that film, the man knew how to drop “Sabotage.”) Lin’s resume certainly suggests that he knows how to handle an action story about soldiers vs. aliens (though some fans were a bit testy that he signed on to the film despite not being a gamer; that was reportedly part of his pitch). Now, said story has a star who also has plenty of action experience: The Hollywood Reporter brings the news that Jason Momoa has landed a lead role in the film, though it’s not been announced exactly what that lead role is. Momoa recently starred in The Wrecking Crew with Dave Bautista, and plays Momo in this summer’s Supergirl film. You may know him as Game of Thrones’ Khal Drogo, or as Aquaman, or from Baywatch, or from Stargate: Atlantis, or as the guy in the pink jacket in the Minecraft film. He also eventually joined the Fast and Furious franchise, though by that time Justin Lin had handed over directorial duties on the increasingly absurd films (Momoa was in Fast X, pictured above, which was directed by Louis Leterrier). Helldivers basically sounds like Starship Troopers but not. The PlayStation website describes the game as “a hardcore, cooperative, twin stick shooter from the creators of Magicka. As part of the elite unit called the HELLDIVERS, players must work together to protect SUPER EARTH and defeat the enemies of mankind in an intense intergalactic war.” (Those all-caps terms are straight from the horse’s PlayStation, so to speak.) The sequel game, Helldivers 2, has sold more than 12 million copies. Lin “aims to find the humanity in the characters and weave timely themes into the story, while building out a world and mythology,” according to THR. But he’s not the writer on the adaptation; that honor falls to Gary Dauberman, whose horror-heavy resume includes Annabelle, It, and The Nun. Helldivers is set to premiere on November 10, 2027. They all better get diving.[end-mark] The post Jason Momoa Will Fight Bugs in Justin Lin’s <i>Helldivers</i> Adaptation appeared first on Reactor.