[IC] We Were Human - Marspunk Psychics

[TrippyNightmare]

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝟷𝟶𝟻 𝙰𝙼𝙲. 𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝙲 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜. 𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜, 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝. 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙲𝙰 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛-𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎, 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎. 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎.

"𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚕!" 𝙰 𝚏𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘-𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚕. 𝙶𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙻𝙸 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚢 - 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎. 𝙰 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚔 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚐𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝?

𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝟼'𝟺 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚔, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟻𝟶𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢. 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎-𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 - 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝.

"Ꮆㄖᗪ 千ㄖ尺Ꮆ丨ᐯ乇 爪乇."

[𝙿𝙰𝚄𝙻𝙾 - 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚂 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴] 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜 "𝙶𝚘𝚍".

乃ㄖㄖ爪!

𝙸𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎.

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𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛.

𝙰 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎. 𝚄𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑'𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎, 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.

"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝." 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚐, 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎.

. . .

𝙰 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚙 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝙷𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙. "𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎." 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎"₩ⱧɎ ₮ⱧɆ Đł₴₵ⱤɆ₮łØ₦, ₩Ⱨ₳₮ ₵₳₦'₮ ₩Ɇ ₭₦Ø₩ ₳฿ØɄ₮ ₮Ⱨł₴ ₴₮Ʉ₣₣?"

[𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙽/𝙷𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙾𝚁 - 𝙰𝙻𝙻-𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶-𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈𝙼𝙰𝙽] 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙸𝚊𝚗 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚖𝚊𝚗.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗. "𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏." 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜. "₮Ⱨł₴ ĐØ₴Ɇ₦'₮ ₣ɆɆⱠ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮."

...

"𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚐𝚎𝚎𝚜?"

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙰𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚣𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝚃𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚣 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚐𝚎𝚎𝚜.

"𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖?" 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

"𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚕" 𝚃𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚣 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍. "𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛?"

𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

"𝚂𝚘 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 '𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝!"

𝚆𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙.

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𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎.

𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙, 𝚞𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍. 𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎'𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚙, 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝-𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚔𝚞𝚕𝚕. 𝙰𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝙶𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚘-𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍.

𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊 𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐-𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜 - 𝚑𝚞𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚘-𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚒𝚍. 𝙸𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚊 𝙶𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 - 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡-𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙.

[𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙷 - 𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙿𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃] 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚁𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝙹. 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚢 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕.

[𝙰𝚃𝙺𝙸𝙽𝚂 - 𝙻𝙸𝙱𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁] 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚊 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙻𝙸. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛.

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 '𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜' 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜.

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢.

[troye]

AT FIRST. THERE WAS NOTHING. THEN THERE WAS EV͕͖̮̝̖͓̝͒̏ͮͪͥ̂ͮ̏̒̎͌Eͣ̎̀͒̉RͥYͯ̓͒ͭͩ̾͛̂̅̄̊Tͬͭͨ́́̊H̙̩̫̤̹̥̫͓̻̩̮̭̲̙̹ͮ̅ͧ̿ͥͨ́̍̍̍̌̑̿ͣ̊Ï̥̝̤͙̞̥ͮ̽̍͛̌N͍͚̤̬̦̠̥̫̖̳ͬ̍ͩͧͥ̓ͪͫ͛̔ͭ̋ͅͅG̀̌͒̊̃ͥ̚̚.

IT SEEMED AS IF THE O͕̬̮̤͓̙̹̻͎̠͇͕̾ͥ͗̄̀̉ͫ̿ͨ͊̌̚Ř͙̟̬̞̯͎̬̺̩̰͎̎̂͐̈̊͋̎͗̐̓̔ͅDIͧ̏N͉̭̗̻͖̦͊ͯ̊ͧ̄ͯA̐̏̿̐̈́ͥ̅͆ͯ̍R̳͉ͦ̄Y COULD NOT HAVE GOTTEN MORE BIZARRE.

THE DAY HAS COME. RELINQUISH YOURSELVES.

REJOICE. AN IMMORTAL IS B͈͖̮͓̐̎ͪ͌ͪͅO͔͓̮̝̱͋ͩͣ̉̉ṞͬN̺̱̣̥̿̔̂͐.

---

ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴘᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴏᴛꜱ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ. ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴀʀᴍꜱ ɪɴ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱᴇ, ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴅᴀᴢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴʏ ꜰʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛᴇʀʀᴏʀ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜʀɪᴇᴋꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴏʟᴋꜱ ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱQᴜᴀʀᴇ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍᴀʏʜᴇᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀx. ᴀ ʀᴇꜱᴜʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜᴀᴏꜱ ɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛᴇ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡᴅ, ᴀ ʙʟᴜʀ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰʟʏɪɴɢ. ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴜᴍʙɪɴɢ ᴄᴏʟᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ɢᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴇxᴘʟᴏꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀɴᴀʀᴄʜɪꜱᴛ'ꜱ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ.

ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ᴇɴꜱᴜᴇᴅ, ᴀ ʟᴀʀɢᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ʜᴇʟᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ ʙʏꜱᴛᴀɴᴅᴇʀs. ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛꜱ ʙᴜʀꜱᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴀɴɪꜱʜ ᴀꜱ Qᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴇᴅ. ɪɴ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴏx ʀᴀɴ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴏʀᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏ ᴜꜱᴇ. ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇᴅ ꜱᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ. ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴀɢᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ʟᴇᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ʙᴇʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ. ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴜʀᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴛ ᴘᴏᴜʀɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ, ᴍᴇɴ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴍᴇʟᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀᴛʜ. ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴇɴᴢʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʟʟᴇᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴜʀᴇ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ᴀ ꜰɪꜱᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴀʟʟʏ. "ᑭEOᑭᒪE Oᖴ ᗰᗩᖇᔕ, ᖇEᒍOIᑕE. I, ᗯIᒪᒪ ᕼOᒪᗪ TᕼE ᑕOᖇᖇᑌᑭT EᒪITE Oᖴᖴ. I ᕼᗩᐯE ᗷEEᑎ ᗷᒪEᔕᔕEᗪ!"

ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, ᴀꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴀᴠᴇʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜰɪᴀɴᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇᴄᴜʀɪᴛʏ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ. ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴄʟᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀʙꜱᴏʀʙᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ᴏʀ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ ᴠᴀᴘᴏʀɪᴢᴇᴅ. THIS WAS GETTING INTENSE.

[Blizz]

Fuck

That’s all Addie could think after being knocked on her ass thanks to a bomb. Everything was a fucking mess in her head, as well as her head. She was dazed, concussed maybe. “Shit...” Everyone was panicking, smoke was all in the air and all that could be hear through the ringing in her ears was the sound of screams and gunfire. Addie wasn’t sure what parts of her could move and what could, she felt numb. She felt like she wasn’t all there. Between the haze of bleak neon that filled the everyday atmosphere of New Brazil and the haze of smoke and gunpowder, it was very possible she wasn’t all there. Welcome to Mars. When that blast hit, Addie was flung back a bit, maybe a good 5 feet, but she was still no less smacked into a wall of a building, blood coming off her forehead like they get in the movies. Her head felt like a vice was around it, and the ringing wouldn’t stop.

Something finally changed in her dazed stupor, a flash of light from far off, not just from the guns and cop machines, someone was...on fire? It was hard to focus, but it looked like they were fighting. He was lighting them on fire. What the fuck’s going on? Either way, the gunshots were getting closer and she couldn’t stay here, so Addie tried to stand. Big mistake. Her head went from pain to sickness, but she couldn’t stay here and get shot or burned alive. She pressed her hands firmly against the wall, and that feeling she had somehow spread. Her senses started spinning, it felt like she was behind herself, she couldn’t focus on it, since it was just more stimulation to slog through. Either way, she found that she could stand up very well, her eyes were starting to focus, and not on her surroundings, but the wall, inside the wall, the wall itself, then the wall again.

Instead of getting the fuck away from the blast, something was just ticking away in her head as the ringing subsided, she could feel the wall behind her, sure, but something was off, and Addison couldn’t quite figure it out. Whatever, it didn’t matter, she leaned against the wall and tried to go in the direction way from the gunfire, but the wall fucking moved, she swore the wall moved forward, you know that feeling you get when you slide your hands across a surface? You feel the texture change against your skin, she didn’t. She couldn’t stand and her head was foggy, but Addison swore on her life that she saw the wall shake, not like an actual wall but like it was made of rubber or something, because when she leaned further against the wall, it bendy around her hand.

“What...what the hell?”

She didn’t realize what that blast did just get.

[Utrax]

"Damn, Mister Ninteen, that didn't take long at all!"
Paulo responded cheerfully over his audio-call, as he made his way up the latter, "Oh, it was nothin' but a busted sublet G nine-router. Weird place to have it-- in there like that. But wasn't hard."
Chuckling his dispatcher replied, "You'll be home in time to eat with the family."

"Sure will," he replied, emerging from the manhole. It was surrounded by a couple of warning cones, one of which had a flashing light, but the people walking by still seemed to press as close to the hole as possible. It wasn't the middle of Takari Square but it was still in a rather frequented segment of walking space, apparently. Dressed in the orange and silver disc suit, one that all sewer workers were mandated to wear, he knew he stood out enough for the people to take more of a wide berth. Neon lights from the square played pretty tricks across the surface of his helmet. He took a second to enjoy being out of an oppressively dark tunnel. Sighing as he received a few dirty-looks, for having just emerged from a sewer, Paulo continued to say, "I'll submit the report in--"
"Forget the report tonight. Just do it tomorrow- boss' orders. Says you deserve the time."
"Fantastic! I'll just close up and-"

"Ꮆㄖᗪ 千ㄖ尺Ꮆ丨ᐯ乇 爪乇."

Paulo turned to look but yelped as his body shook and searing pain raced through his back-- instinctively he threw his hands up, but his wrist caught between a ladder rung and the metal slab it was attached through-- ladder rung? Paulo's mind didn't have a chance to process further, as pain snapped through that arm, and weightlessness came to him. With a heavy thudding half-splash, he landed painfully front-first, twenty feet down, with several sickening crunches-- half of his body on the service walk and his other half submerged in thick acidic ichor at the bottom of the sewer. Static interference screamed in his ears and his voice picked up to join in. Howling in agony-- thrashing about and clawing at himself-- Paulo's voice filled the space of the sewer until he tasted blood on his tongue.

Darkness nipped at his vision as his consciousness fled him.
Visions emerged from the blackness.

Then there was a tiny fire. A light. Static screamed into his communication system.

Paulo stared at the tiny blue flame in fascination as it burned a hole clean through his glove.
His glove? HIS GLOVE! Paulo tried to pull his hand away but- but- but? Wasn't this a welding torch? Made of fire? Shouldn't it be hurting him? Again, he tried to move, and found that he simply could not. He looked around, taking in the odd blue-ish cloud of gas accumulating within the sewer around him, and then at the bodies of rodents spilling down from the walls of the tunnel. Again he tried to move.
Again he tried.

Again and again so much so that he wanted to scream-- his body was numb and he stared at the circle of the world above. Paulo heard screams-- there were strange lights-- and he couldn't move? Dread settled in as he figured he may have been paralyzed from the fall. How could he call for help now? Reaching up the the front of his helmet he-- reaching? Paulo stared at his hand-- through the hole in it-- then looked around as the gas quickly began to disperse. Then back at his hand. His. Hand.

His hand was leaking out of his glove in a very neon-blue-gree-ish sort of manner.
And there he was. And thus he stayed. Staring at his hand.

[Sanity43217]

Hector Tanner lay against the wall he was blown into. Body tensed up as small sparks moved across his body. The electrical charges stimulating his muscles. Hector groaned as he tried to relax, but physically couldn't. He opened his eyes and saw a spark jumping between his fingertips. Confused. He should be coming down off the NEON, but this surely couldn't be real. As the charge started to dissipate into his cells, he could feel his muscles starting to relax.

Coming to his senses, his attention turned away from himself. Taking in his surroundings. It was chaos. Instinctively, his hand moved to his Sidearm. Taking comfort in the familiar grip of the laser revolver. He didn't draw it from the shoulder holster just yet. He'd been around long enough to know security forces tended to shoot first if you armed, and sometimes even if you weren't. Taking a moment to calm his nerves, he took his hand off the handle of the pistol.
Hector took a deep breath, trying in vain to clear the hangover he had. He wasn't sure if it was from all the drinking he had done early in the night or the NEON that was still leaving his system, or the explosion that just turned Takari Square into a warzone. His head still a haze, but slowly coming together. "What did those visions mean?" He said to himself, trying to order his thoughts. Thinking aloud at least helped a little in dismissing the mental haze. He recognised Ian Everyman from one of the visions. "Damn Everymen, have fingers in everything. Probably a good place to start." He said aloud. The Everyman Equity had just about contacts for everything. Hector figured a contract looking into this bombing would pop up tomorrow, if not sooner, so why not get a head start?

Hector tried to stand but groaned in pain. Print would have to wait. Now wasn't the time to be looking into a job that didn't even exist yet. He needed to get away. The security forces were rounding people up, and Hector couldn't collect bounties if he was locked up somewhere. Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the pain. Now, his plan was to get to Chapter House. 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙 may have been powerful, but they wouldn't attack a Chapter House for one man. At least that's what Hector theorised. Plus, once he made it there, he could have Marcus check him over with a bio-scanner.

[Tsar Gatto]

---

What a fucking beautiful cacophony, Rachel thought to herself sarcastically. Takari Square was a hub of activity on a night like this and the sounds of life mixed together to form some audial tapestry that assailed her from all sides. The buzz of countless conversations mixed with the advertisement slogans that played over and over on the colossal screens that loomed high above as she pushed her way through the moving throng of people, together mixing with the hundreds of other sounds that permeated the air.

An already drunk and pretty shabbily dressed pair of businessmen stumbled past, one of them staggering a bit much managed to barge into her shoulder as he turned and made some exaggerated gesture to his buddy.

“Hey fuckin watch it dick” she shot at him as they sauntered onwards with hardly a look back as they laughed and continued on their way.

“Pricks” she mumbled bitterly to herself, shaking her head as she hefted her rucksack and carried on. She’d be considerably happier once she’d dropped off her little bag of goodies and could be on her way – after all it was Friday and there were big plans on the cards. Normally she wouldn’t drop something like this off, at least not without sticking around to test the quality of the goods anyway, but Freddie’s sister was modelling some new line of pheroscent or some shit and was throwing some party for the vapid models and executives. Not the kind of affair she was too interested in attending to say the least, but Freddie had asked nicely.

She took no notice of the cloaked figure as he moved past, one more asshole in a crowd full of assholes as far as she was concerned.

---

---

Urgh. What a fucking hangover. Wait. What?

Rachel felt like she was floating, but instead of weightlessness it was like she was floating on a light buzzing of some unknown sensation.

What the fuck is happening?

Slowly she realised the unknown sensation wasn’t so unknown after all. It was pain. She was floating in a cloud of pain and it was slowly getting worse and worse, as if it was condensing, as she slowly started coming to her senses. She realised she wasn’t even floating.

Bullshit.

She was laying on the hard and uncomfortable ground and there was an intense ringing in her ears. Slowly the visions started to return to her, though between everything she couldn’t really process whatever the fuck they could mean, or even why she was seeing weird murder trees, Hawaiian shirted dudes and a bunch of semi-nude slavers at a time like this.

Slowly she tried to open her eyes. Her left eye stung a little and she instinctively rubbed at it. Sticky blood from a small cut on her forehead obscured her vision slightly and she realised she was covered in dust and small bits of rubble. She sat up and took in her surroundings still in a daze.

What was left of Takari square looked almost like a warzone or some shit as bodies and chunks of buildings lay about the place and numerous fires were raging. She fought off a wave of nausea at the sight. Weird, movies and VR shit didn’t do justice to the real thing. She wasn’t sure how long exactly passed as she sat there taking in the sights, but eventually she managed to stumble to her feet. She leaned against what was left of a nearby wall and fought down a wave of rising bile.

Get a grip, damn she hissed at herself. The sounds of gunfire and more chaos soon permeated the air and she wondered what on Mars was going the fuck on. Through the dust and smoke she saw a guy pick himself up out of the dust as a group of security drones made their way towards him. She too had started to stumble towards them when suddenly and without warning they’d started to beat the absolute living shit out of him.

“What the fuck?” she blurted, stopping as the already injured man went down and they began to arrest him. Then she realised these weren’t the usual kind of budget Cartelli security forces. These fuckers were the high level, skull crushing, dissident erasing kinda pricks that you shouldn't see around here. Sadistic highly trained and highly equipped, they really didn’t fuck around. Moments later they’d seen her and two of them broke away and moved right for her with their rifles raised. Her heart skipped a beat and she practically fell as she stumbled backwards, and at the protest of her aching body, she scrambled back as rapidly as she could.

In her disoriented state she stood little chance as they closed the gap between them startlingly quickly. One of them tackled into her and pinned her to the ground with his knee. He was far from gentle and the wind was driven from her and more pain unpleasantly lanced though her as she was pretty sure she felt a rib or two crack.

She struggled to breathe as he held her in place and she lashed out at him with her free arm. It was a pretty pointless exercise as her fist met the hard surface of his protective suit. Nevertheless, it earned her a swift punch to the side of the face and her vision swam for a few moments before he lifted her to her feet, fixed cuffs around her wrists and began to push her forwards. Anger, pain and the will to survive shot through her as she twisted to get away and she felt an odd rush as something surged through her. She hardly touched them, but there was a sickening crunch as both of their heads twisted unnaturally to the side and she suddenly felt like she’d just benched a good 300lbs and then some. The two figures simultaneously crumpled to the ground. She followed moments later as her legs gave way beneath her.

She felt pretty damn exhausted and struggled to sit up again, this time made much more difficult thanks to her new restraints. She managed to struggle and drag herself a short way to lean back against the same wall as she took a few moments to pass her arms under her legs so that they weren’t at least stuck behind her anymore. She felt warm blood trickle down her lips and rubbed at her nose to discover it was bleeding. Great, between the cut on her forehead, bleeding nose and rapidly developing black eye this was a real shitty day so far. Plus her outfit was totally ruined. She again felt numb as the realities of everything that had just happened failed to settle on her. She slipped her hands into her pocket and spend a good few minutes fumbling with a pack of smokes before she managed to pull one out and then light it.

Taking a deep drag she leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a just a few moments.

'The fuck just happened?’

[Temporary]

Some days were bad. They were made up of circumstances and situations, all of which conspired on thoroughly ruining the course of a day, but Madison typically had ways to cope. Sleep, music, alcohol, occasionally drugs, he had systems built for every potential. When an issue arose, he was prepared to deal with it, that had always been his way of life. Ensuring that nothing occurred off the cuff, not when everybody in the industry sought absolute perfection in their various operations. Did that make him an addict, he wondered; taking what he could get to halt the creeping onset of anxiety.

But some days were worse. Bandits had come across his Fringe safehouse, seemingly by complete accident, but he couldn't be too careful. Regardless of what they took, and that they destroyed the place, but didn't search for the hidden safes, or take the documents that Madison had left unattended on the desk. Regardless of who they were. They represented a greater danger than simple Bandits - ordinarily, they were no issue; he could deal with a Water Bandit party if it came down to it. But if word spread and he remained, it would be game over.

Danger meant pulling favours. Just because he was prepared didn't mean he enjoyed it, not anymore. It had been his third move in two months, and the Neutral Zones were becoming increasingly dangerous for him by the day. It was only a matter of time before he had to relocate to somewhere more difficult to assault, where Water Bandits and Slavers wouldn't, and couldn't, apparate from the mists when his back was turned, blissfully ignorant. Between the location and setup of the safehouse itself, the chance's of run-ins like that were as low as he could get them - that much, Madison was confident of.

He was less than confident on the Enclave of choice, though. New Brazil wasn't the worst Enclave, far from it, and both it and Cartelli had their positives. But the Cartelli Corporation had their eye on Madison's head as well. Bounty or not, it was risk; Cartelli had their negative points too. But he'd had a transport favour lined up since months prior. The Madison from the past had thought it was a good idea - he'd placed part of their small fortune on it. And Madison had long since come to accept that trusting his past self over himself was the best course for everyone involved.

He jolted awake. Light bled past his eyelids, forcing them open, and immediately shut, as he blinked back the haze of sleep that had fallen over him. An acrid smell found his nose, a mix of ash, and sulphur, and blood, and smoke. There had been an explosion - Madison could recognise the smell from anywhere. They couldn't have planned it. They couldn't have known. He attempted to arrange his thoughts, but the build of anxiety forced him to breath, inhaling plumes of debris that led him to choke against the fumes.

The build to sensory overload bubbled over in the form of pain - a sustained, pronounced ache that wracked his person, from his leg and up to his neck. He couldn't place what it was he had hit. He could barely focus on his surroundings, but it had to have been something. Still, he forced himself to his feet. They were targeting him - sitting still was a death sentence, regardless of the distance the blast had flung him. One hand clasped the wall to his right, dragging him to a stand, while the other fingered the clasp on the holster to his pistol, a heavily modified, high calibre ballistic weapon. Most of the modifications were lost on him, but old Madison liked the aesthetic. The sights were cracked from the impact, but against Slavers and Bandits, it would make short work regardless.

For a moment, Madison took stock of his situation. His rucksack had survived, as had his clothes, but the blast wave had dishevelled him. A trickle of blood ran down his left arm, leaving a smear through his jacket that he would be unable to hide. Somehow, he had found himself in an alleyway. The force had flung him through the front glass and out the back of some building. He could see through the crater of the front entrance, the chaos the square had devolved into. Between the soldiers and flames, his fight or flight kicked into action.

Madison began walking as flight won out, his left hand clenched around the grip of the gun, as his right gripped firmly against the wound, halting the blood flow. Each step was staggered and slow, punctuated with resurgences in pain for every movement. Pain that crawled along his spine and into his rightmost knee. He had painkillers in his bag, but he couldn't afford to stop, not yet. Escaping the blast area was his priority, especially with soldiers detaining anyone they found. All he had to do was make it to the safehouse.

[Sync]

---

Images began to float across his vision, a scenario he's never seen before, people he's never met. The events that occurred before him were like a premonition of the past or a retelling of the present. Between blurs and fading voices, the man known as Liverwire could never tell what was truly happening. But it dissolved itself into a recollection, a memory. Etched itself into the corners of his psyche and told its story anew. A lush world erupting in fauna the red planet had never seen before, a mystical touch by men who approached its garden. Something ate away at their sentries, the men trespassed to a hidden substance that radiated evil. What had they done? Pandora's box had shifted its course to the new world, and something ominous poisoned its air. He began to cough, darkness embraced the visage and engulfed his senses into silence. Like horrid existence reality had become hollow. For a moment, Rohan felt peace... With nothing gnawing at his conscious, nothing pulling at his heels. The weight of everyday life seemed to lift even if momentarily. But through such momentary blithe, the time approached where he had to awaken one more, so the darkness faded, and once again he was brought back to reality.

~**~

A few screens began to pop-up, statistics were finally in normal parameters and damage was kept to a minimal. The suit began to speak it's assessments, Livewire began to regain his consciousness, attempting to remember what had happened. The screams of men and women adorned the stage of flame and destruction before him. His hand felt numb and there was a faint glow at the epicenter of his chest. His hands rose itself towards his sights, opening and closing-- his fingers responding even though heaviness wrought across his bones, following to touching his chest where the glow effervescently beckoned to his call, palpitating before reducing itself into nothing. "What just happened?" Where the only thoughts that circled his head followed by the recollection of some strange dream. A bomb went out sometime when he had finished his hit, looking before him he was inside a building, broken, torn to shred, debris everywhere and small fire spread across the vicinity. "Was I found?" Doubt simmered itself into consciousness, the sound of gunfire began to ring in his ears. His head was still not prepared to handle the noises, but he knew he had the responsibility to endure it. He was pushed back and thrown inside the building by an explosion nearby, the automatic repair began their work since he was knocked out, approximately 20 minutes has passed since then.

But the most peculiar detail was that the suit primary functions were deactivated, a glaring red light was illuminated at the side of his helmet’s visor reading ‘adapting to molecular anomaly’ “Anomaly?” The suit wasn’t responding to his commands, and his body felt heavier and heavier the more he attempted to move his limbs, he sat at a junction between the hallway and a store room. His back lodged into the wall behind him, supported only by the weight of a few support beams that sustained the impact of the explosion. Finally, he began to move, standing even. Dusting away and debris that might’ve made it into his clothing, he scouted around for an exit. No good, between fire and collapsed stone, he seemed to have been trapped quite literally between a rock and a hard place. The collapse continued, stone falling before his very eyes, pushing him further into a corner. Damn it… To be in a predicament like this... The windows are also shut, no ways up the stairs. “How long until this thing caves in on me?” The suit reacted to his voice, it began to calculate silently, designating a small timer. Roughly 5 minutes, he needed to move and quick, he didn’t have any explosives, but detonating anything would compromise whatever stability there was here. He moved through the cracks, avoiding any cramped spaces, pacing himself steadily. Each step calculated, with purpose. One wrong move and he would be squashed among all this. He needed to maneuver himself through a room, two dead bodies lying on the floor…

This was nothing new to see, but without the inhibitors witnessing death felt terrible, the impact of human life was larger on his mind. At this moment, he was Rohan and not the ruthless Merc Livewire, he continued forward, the structure trembling at his feet. Chaining his sense together to see and feel everything until his suit finished ‘adapting.’ He paced himself through another exit, where the structure hadn’t been compromised as much, some of the walls had cracks and glass dressed the floors. A noise reached his ears, a cry? Rohan turned to its beckoning call, a child? No, wait… His feet drove him to the voice, it echoes on his head. A few rooms back, a collapsed door debris pouring out, a small gap and Rohan could see a young girl crying, an adult crushed beneath the weight of the rubble. She was stuck!

“Hey-- HEY! Can you hear me?”

The girl immediately rose her head, searching for the direction that voice came from, afraid, tears rolling down her eyes, the blood of her mother’s corpse in the tip of her fingers. “Right here, right here. Stay put, okay? I’ll try to take you out.” Three minutes and twenty-eight seconds… There wasn’t much time, he pulled his weapon out. A sword he carried on his back, lodging it between two stones as to lift it and then pull it out. Pushing with all his might, slowly making a path for the kid to exit from. “Damn it! Why don’t you work!? Hurry up, access level 1 protocols!” The suit didn’t respond to his command, the blaring light haunting him about its process, while simultaneously counting down the time until the building’s collapse. The blade snapped, the hilt was all that was left but he managed to make a small gap, enough for her to leave.

“Alright, come on, kid! Come over here!” The young girl looked at him, winced at the visage of the bloody hunter, helmet like a cyclops gauging her every step, her eyes drifted to her mother. Dead… her life twisted upside down, her tears began to fall again, her voice hoarse and afraid. “Wait… No,no, no! Don't be afraid! Come on, I’m here to help. If you don’t hurry, you’ll be in much more danger! Please, you have to listen to me! The building is gonna--” The time limit had reached 30 seconds, the earth beneath his heels was shaking, he could see the dust clouds and dirt fall over his shoulder, his eyes widened behind the helmet, noticing time almost slow as disaster would befall the two. The suit finally switched to its neon green, all the system back to full functions… As the building collapsed between the two, debris fell on their bodies, crushing their bones and burying them along the other who met their unfortunate end here. The world was chaos Rohan had been a part that added fuel to that fire. There was never a time he hesitated to let a man die, but why now? Why was now any different? Was this just a means to atone? Or perhaps… Was this his own ego? His own sense of invincibility reproducing itself in a time of crisis? But why? This moment was fleeting, many had died at his mercy, yet he couldn’t sustain himself long enough to value his own worth. Something grew within him at those moments, the world seemed lighter, the voices seemed to hush themselves for a moment. The gunfire inaudible, but he felt himself move.

L E V E L 1: E N G A G E D

Beneath his heel, the world seemed steady, easy to maneuver in, easy to mold. Like cradling a child in your hand, you held it at your mercy. Before him, a girl looking up, eyes widened as she witnessed a body sustain the earth before her in the air, his trembling arms attempting to sustain all that calamity, like Atlas, she witnessed a monster do everything in his power to keep her alive.

“Grit your teeth, kid. This one's gonna be loud.” His hands threw themselves to the side, and the earth obeyed his command, the debris expanded and moved, tore through the seams and opened a path to the outside. The smoke arose, and Livewire was back online. “Go to safety.” She hesitated, but perhaps something spoke to her about everything, the shock of the moment left in awe, but she knew. She stood and ran away, with Livewire witnessing her get further and further into the distance. Staring has his hands and body, as he questioned what had happened, questioned why he was able to control the earth and debris around him. But such a thought was completely shut after he witnessed everything that was happening outside, the chaos that ensued.

Gunfire, battle, death and carnage a man on fire… What the hell was even going on?

[Lmpkio]

---

---

---

---

Silence.

Nathan slowly opened his dazed eyes as he looked blankly into the smokey night sky. He felt himself firmly planted against the ground as if he had weights strapped onto his back. He couldn't feel much of his body at all really, minus the aching pain from all sides and the warm sweat that glistened on his face. The smelled the thick smoke wasn't pleasing at all either. He could feel and he could see, and he could smell too. But there was one thing that he still could not accomplish.

He could not hear.

Or at the very least he couldn't hear very well against the barrage of white noise that assaulted his mind. Nathan's eyes shut as he tried to cancel the noise out, but it simply grew more and more obnoxious. It didn't help either that he felt warm liquid running down his ears either. Once enough was enough, he rolled onto his belly with all the strength he could muster. A pained groan sighed from his gritted teeth as flashes of red signaled his need to take it slow. Nathan slowed his breathing - inhaling slowly through his mouth before exhaling it all out. Bit by bit, he slowly rose his body upwards, being careful not to strain himself too harshly. Soon he found himself on all fours. His arms still wobbled from shock, almost threatening to give way, but Nathan wasn't going to let it stop him.

Eventually he perched his left leg up into a kneeling position and then slowly lifted himself to stand up. The green-haired man cocked his neck back and carefully stretched his body as a groan aspirated into the night.

"Ohhhhhh..." he sighed to himself as he almost stumbled forward, "What... the hell happened?"

As Nathan finished speaking, he would pause before lifting his right index finger against his matching ear. He felt the liquid running down it, a kind of watery yet sticky substance. When he brought it up to his finger, he'd see a reddish-yellow discharge stick against his fingertips. Was this... blood? A mixture of his blood and wax running down the side of his head? That damn firework seemed to have done more damage than he thought... or was it the explosion shortly after? Still...

This couldn't be good.

As he began to wipe the waxy fluid off his leather jacket, he would fail to notice a squad of security forces running right behind him. He'd get accidentally shouldered by one of them, taking a few steps back before looking at one of the armored men glaring at him through his goggles.

"Hey! Check your zone!" the man would bark before he continued running with his patrol unit.

Nathan barely caught what he said, most of it being nothing but very muffled speech. Had the man spoken more softly, then he might not have understood him at all.

"S-Sorry!" Nathan yelled as he regained his footing.

More surprising was the fact that could also barely hear the sounds and vibrations of thunderous mechanical stomps that were no more than a few meters away from him. He quickly noted the giant hulking bio-mech that lumbered by, being nearly shocked that he didn't get accidentally squished by it through his own obliviousness. He'd bang his palms against his temples before rapidly shaking his head.

"Ugh, cmon Nathan." he growled to himself aloud, "Cmon. Get it together man!"

Once he gained relative control of his consciousness, he'd turn around to inspect his flaming van. There didn't seem to be anything he could take from it, other than some spare change and, thankfully, his phone. The bandits that ruined his ride didn't seem to have the chance to take anything major out, but what would be the point if his equipment was totally ruined beyond repair. His speakers and soundboards were all completely wrecked and on fire. It would be fruitless to try and salvage their remains. With a heavy heart, Nathan walked away from the wreckage and began wandering aimlessly into would soon find himself wandering into Takari Square.

To normal civilians, they would be bombarded with the sounds of sirens and cries for help. Yet Nathan barely heard anything, only hearing a mixture of his internal consciousness and the muffled ambience that created an eerie ambiance of an almost surreal dream-like sequence. He'd also notice odd string-like translucent waves dancing around his vision in a rainbow of different colors. What were they? He blinked his eyes rapidly in an attempt to rid himself of these visions, yet they wouldn't go away. They all came from various directions at random, yet they otherwise didn't interfere with his vision too much. Nathan simply couldn't wrap his head upon these strange bizarre events.

How hard had he hit his head in that crash?

As he walked across the street towards the square center, he would see the ruins of a large statue crumbled into the park plaza. Really the entire place was a complete mess - and judging from what Nathan could remember from the blast, it seemed to have started here. What exactly happened here? What triggered this explosion? And for what purpose? He had a whole lot of questions and a whole lack of answers. Yet from the rubble he would spot someone struggling underneath. Nathan instinctually sprinted towards the body before kneeling to inspect it.

"Hang on, I'm coming!" he cried in a slightly louder then necessary voice as he began to comfort the man.

He could barely hear the man crying in pain, but frankly Nathan didn't need to hear in order to recognize how brutal the situation for him was. His spine was absolutely crushed from a thick concrete slab that pierced it so. He was in very bad shape, perhaps mortally so from the looks of it. If he survives this ordeal, he will be paralyzed for the rest of his life. Nathan took pity for the man as he quickly scanned his body for any other wounds. While he was inspecting his arms, he'd catch his eye upon the man's bracelet that was wrapped around his left wrist. Taking a closer look, he would notice that it sported a symbol... a very familiar symbol. Nathan's heart sank once he realized what it was.

The man was an MLI agent - he was one of his own!

"No," he breathed solemnly as he looked at the pained expression of his fellow comrade.

Things had been made much more personal for him now. Quickly, Nathan grabbed ahold of the giant slab lodged in the victim's spinal cord before trying to lift it with all his might. Alas his weakened state and general overall physique made it nearly impossible for him to move it. He was soon forced to give up to catch his breath.

Still he wasn't going to leave him here to die. Not like this. But he'll certainly need help if he was going to have any chance in saving him. Hopping atop a pile of rubble Nathan would begin to call for help by screaming and waving his arms towards anyone nearby.

"HEEEEY!" he yelled as he jumped up and down like a maddened crazy person, "SOMEBODY HELP! I HAVE A SURVIVOR HERE! I NEED HELP REMOVING THE RUBBLE OFF HIM!"

He wondered if anyone was willing enough to help... or perhaps this would be nothing but a fruitless venture.

[KZOMBI3]

The way that Takari Square lit up, regardless of the time of day, resonated with Calixta on a multitude of levels. It was at this time that she was making her way from her shack of a dwelling; running late - of course - towards Hpnotiq; one of the plethora of Glitter bars in the area and the one she happened to work at tonight. Rushing around in five inch heels and on some NEON was not what she had in mind for the start of her night. Well, partially true. But at the rate that the whole of Mars was going she needed to be present at the start of her shift. Whether it was to writhe under someone on an uncomfortable couch or to distribute some extra fine product - and then still end up under someone on an uncomfortable couch - didn't matter. Calixta was a woman in the throes of excitement and that called for money. Just cause she could cause damage on a budget doesn't mean she would want to.

'At least have a lil something, something extra on the side for the after party~'

When she finally broke through to the crowds bustling about the Square, she took it slow. If she can't make her scheduled time at the club, it would be easy pickings on any of the number of people just passing her by. Not without the constant one overs she was garnering. It only boosted her already inflated ego of herself. It wasn't hard to approach the patrons scattered around her and in fact with a swing of hips and a coy, teasing smile she was even able to isolate one, turning up the charisma she was blessed with. All the while she kept his attention, deft fingers slid into his front breast pocket, her other hand tracing circles on his chest. The poor bastard looked over the moon, shooting a giddy, schoolboy grin to his fellow co-workers before he was abruptly pushed away with a smile and a wink and Calixta was off once again.

It's not like she got much further from the man and his group when they shouted out at the loss of valuables before she was sprinting once more through the crowds, pushing citizens alike down and out of her way. Anything to get these losers off her trail. 'Just my luck that the cold prude would be the one to notice...' Cali couldn't help but muse to herself with a laugh on her lips and a lil extra jump in her gait.

It all seemed to come crashing down around her, even though she managed to slip away from her pursuers, she wasn't outta the fires yet. The last thing she can remember before the nothingness took over was filtering through the same bundle of valuables she was able to obtain. Tossing a few useless pieces into the waste bins that littered the Square - though one wouldn't notice with the amounts of trash and other... questionable substances that have taken up refuge on the grounds around her. She kept along on that train of thought as she even pointed out to herself, taking note of the trash in the middle of the bustling people, "See, even in the midst of their cattle mindset and no one thinks to see the fuckin' duffel bag?"

Normal street urchin logic told her that if no one else was going to acknowledge the potential treat that was the contents of the bag, then they were at a loss. However, there was something nagging her in the back of her mind that was whirring around making her think twice about rushing to the loot. Though she heeded her internal mechanization, she wasn't quick enough to get outta there and was subsequently caught up in the explosion.

The time in which it took for Calixta to come too was only a few moments - at the very least. Though to her, being so trapped up in the twisted web of her mind, it felt like days, weeks even. So, when she was finally able to will her eyes to open she was able to catch sight of the destruction that lay around her. Her first instinctive reaction was to check her limbs. The last time she was caught in an explosion she was down quite a bit. Aside from the pain that resonated at a high level across her body, she wasn't missing anything this time. No. If anything, aside from the pain, she felt almost complete. Rather, more pieced together in some way.

The first thing she actually took notice of when she came too wasn't anything sight related but the smell. Calixta was no stranger to the smell of burning fuel used as an accelerant, or the feel of ashes raining from the sky and dancing on her eyelashes. She was especially not naive to the smell of burning skin to the point of inexplicable reconstruction. It was something that was her least favorite when it came to making things go boom. Probably because it reminded her of her own losses? Or the fact that it was just too fucking gross...

After taking in enough ash into her lungs to constitute herself as a living ashtray, she pushed herself up onto her shaking legs. Her stance was soon tilting back towards the nearest surface. Luckily, that wasn't the ground a but a nearby bodega stand; specializing in snacks, drinks and other curious nick-knacks. Cali waited, her vision blurring at the corners. It was in those few moments that she recounted on the visions - if that's what she could even call them - that she experienced after the explosion went off. "Fuckin' NEON fuckin' with me...fuckin' trippin' like crazy..." the groan that escaped her was dragged out in frustration once she was able to focus on her appearance in the shop's remaining window's glass.

Makeup smeared across her face - most likely from her body being thrown like a rag doll during the shockwave. Accenting her features were splatters of blood that she wasn't entirely sure if it came from her or some other sucker. Somewhere behind her was a bright light, something akin to a fire starting back up. Only, it wasn't. And when she turned around she was able to see more of what the scene before truly looked like.

Of course, as she predicted, bodies littered the Square, which now suffered a substantial amount of collateral damage. Buildings, shops, little decorative nuances that the Square had placed around it's parameter - all was either completed decimated or crumbling in real time. It was surreal, but it was something that excited the young woman to no end. Her adrenaline was pulsing through her at an ungodly speed - only amplified by the drugs no doubt - but it seemed to spike at the sight of the cause of the flash of bright light. It was a man. He was on fire. Not only that, but there was gunfire sounding off of the rubble around her. It didn't take long for the ones wielding the weapons to take aim into the crowd of those getting up and charging, following after the human torch. And it was only a matter of time before they were crawling out from all their hiding holes on the edge of where Takari once stood.

She wanted to move, to run and gun - to do something but they were already on her, and subsequently the others around her. Cali witnessed the double tap they put in place to the bodies still lying on the ground and she wondered what it would take to get out of their clutches. They swarmed her and wrestled her to the ground - with surprising difficulty thanks to a biometric leg. Three military serviced uniforms had to hold her, one on each arm, pinning her arms to the side with their knees, her face smashed into the ash and debris. They couldn't risk having her use her enhanced limbs on them. After successfully forcing her down there came the texture of a barrel to her head. Fear and paranoia and just a fury in her like one she hadn't felt before surged through her and when she heard the click of the trigger she expected it all to end then and there.

Another click and again the same outcome. She was still there. And they were getting more and more irate by the second. It was when the shooter decided to lose the gun and reach for another weapon that she had found her opening and ripped her left side out from under their confused and slacked hold, rolling to the discarded weapon and firing it at the three of them. Calixta had never once been a fan of guns simply because her smaller frame couldn't accommodate for the excessive recoil she experienced when it came to the rifles. Though, it was strange when she held and fired this weapon - a weapon that only moments ago failed to kill her, failed to work - worked perfectly for her. The recoil almost nonexistent. But there was something that flowed through her and into the weapon to aid her. She couldn't discern what it was and she didn't fucking care in the slightest as to whether it was fluke or blessing or a goddamned curse.

Calixta was alive - for now, and that's all she fuckin' cared about at that moment.

[BigPapaBelial]

Just a few hours ago, it had been party time. The Golden Card had been hopping. A DJ piping music through the casino and bar. The shift had been going smoothly, with only a few hours left until Mason's shift is over and he and his shift mates could call it. But at the time. It was all business. Mason stood behind his black jack table, swaying and jiving to the music. Oh he was on point. Skin glistening from the sweat he'd worked up, and the smell of smoke in the air.

So heavy...what is this...am I seeing things...what is this? Who...is that? Why does it feel so hot and dusty...

The music changed, and Mason changed his style a little, turning in place, and setting out cards to the players. Two twenties and a nineteen on the table. Everyone stood. Mason turned his first card, "That's ten for the house." He said and did a quick booty bounce for the onlookers and players. Then turned his next card, "And that's fifteen...and..." He humped the air as he drew a third card, "Ace makes sixteen...and..." He froze in a pose as the music slowed as he drew a fourth card, "That's a seven...house busts, everyone wins!" He cheers and the players jump to their feet!

Fuck me...what...is that a piece of pavement? What's going on here...why am I buried under a piece of pavement? I'm lucky I'm not crushed...oh...wow...

The music shifted again and with the recent winners going to cash in, Mason is left to dance again. So strange though, as the room is getting warmer. Why is Paddy sitting on the end of the dance stage? Why is he fanning himself...the stage is air conditioned. Is it getting brighter in here. And so much smoke. Hey wait why is Travis yelling, why can't I hear him...what is going on? "Travis? Trav? Boss man...what's...going..."

The world burns.

Mason jerks and slams his head up against the section of paving that is over top of him. He looks up then around, a 4 meter long piece of pavement, propped up by a pile of bricks. Giving him room to move. What the fuck had just happened. He'd been making his way down the street, his shift over. And everything seemed to light up. There was heat, and sound. So much sound it had drowned out the music that had been playing in his head set.

There had been the sensation of lifting and fast motion. But he could see nothing but light. Maybe he'd passed out. Or hit his head. Because he swears he'd seen things...heard things. Of strange people, and strange men. A tree. A bunch of...well spacers...smugglers? He couldn't tell and some strange dude talking to them. What the heck was...why were a bunch of suits talking about New Brazil. It hadn't made sense.

Mason crawls out from under the pavement piece. And his first view is that of pain and suffering. How long had he been under there that the drugs he'd popped at the beginning of the shift had worn off? Had it been the light? Just time? What. He saw people starting to move, he could hear people calling for others they knew. Mason wobbled to his feet shakily, looking about. He looke dup sharply hearing the whine of engines, and only then realizing his head set is broken and hanging just by a wire from his neck. He shifts abit, watching corpo security teams landing. It's only then just then he hears cries for help. He turns. Some Corporate jacket as far as he can tell...laying amidst the rubble, Mason is completely unsure who he's with. But he's holding something...is that a statue? Why would some corpo jacket be out here with a statue? Mason picks his way over, "Hey...hey mano...hey...easy bro. You're okay, you're fine...chill...hey you need something to take the edge off? I can help...if you're okay with a shot of something. Who are you with? What's that on your chest bro?" The Corpo sec are starting to move. Mason sits beside that poor broken fella there in the rubble. He kneels beside the man, looking about confusedly and voices his confusion to the man in general but to anyone within earshot as well, "What the hell happened..."

[TrippyNightmare]

𝙸𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚊𝚑 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚐𝚘, 𝙼𝙻𝙸 - 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚕

𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚢, 𝚠𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚜. 𝙰 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛. 𝙰 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚔𝚞𝚕𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚋𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

𝙷𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!"𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜𝚘 - 𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝙴𝙾 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚢. "𝙽𝚘... 𝙰𝚑𝚑! 𝙽𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 '𝚏𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚟." 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚂𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢-𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌-𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜.

𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌. "𝙸 𝚠𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚛, 𝚍𝚒𝚜 '𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 '𝚏𝚘 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚎𝚍." 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍.

"𝙸 𝚊𝚒𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚟." 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝚝𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 - 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝚝𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝚝𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎. "𝚁𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 '𝚎𝚖. 𝙳𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙷𝙿𝙵𝙶. " 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗, 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍, 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝟸𝟶-𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕'𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑. 𝙰 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. "𝚆𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜." 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒'𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙻𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔? 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑'𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜. 𝙰𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢'𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍.






? ? ? - 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌 𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎

"𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚢𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛."

𝙰 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢-𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝚈𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 - 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚙𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚌𝚔, 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚐-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚢.

"𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎."𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. "𝙿𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚘𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍."𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝. "𝚆𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗-𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚋 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎. 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚘, 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚞𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍."𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

"𝙾𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. "

"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜." 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚗.






𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝙷𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚍 - 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝙷𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍? 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝙷𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍, 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢.. 𝚘𝚒𝚕?"𝙴𝚢! 𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝 - 𝙷𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝!" 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.

"𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚃𝚣𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘, 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜 - 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 - 𝚍𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍. " 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛.

"𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝙳𝚛. 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗, 𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝙲 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 - 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗' 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛." 𝙸𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙳𝚛. 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝙲 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔. 𝙰𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 - 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 - 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛. 𝙰 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝙲, 𝚒𝚏 𝙷𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 - 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜? 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.





"ﾉｲ 乃乇ᄃズの刀丂..."

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚘, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚢) 𝚋𝚊𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛. 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚍, 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐, 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 - 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚍. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

"ᔕᑫᑌIIIᔕᕼY!!" 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚑, 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙰 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 "𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗" 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜.

"ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼᗷᗩG Oᖴ GᖇEEᑎ, ᗯᕼY YOᑌ ᗪOᗯᑎ Iᑎ ᔕEᗯEᖇᔕ ᗯITᕼ ᗰᑌTᗩᑎTᔕ? YOᑌ ᗯEᖇE ᔕᒪᗩᐯE?" 𝙷𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. "ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼᗷᗩG ᗪOᑎ'T ᗷEᒪOᑎG ᕼEᖇE, ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼ TOᑭ ᔕIᗪE. ᗯE GO TO ᑕᒪEᗩᖇᖴᗩᒪᒪᔕ." 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚋𝚊𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎! 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜.

[Blizz]

Discretion
Something about EE
Slaves
That was all Addie could think about other than the wall and ground churning like it was liquid, but regardless she wandered aimlessly further and further away from everything, while Takari Square burned down and robots clattered to coral all the innocent people in, she was just slowly moving against the walls of the buildings, by now she’s away from most of it, but she can’t help but hear those same words in her head more and more, something about those EE guys just burned itself in her head, something about Mars being enslaved, but that already happens, right?

The whole time, she felt on the verge of vomiting, you know that feeling you get after everything starts spinning, it was like that, but not in front of her, it was just at her fingertips where she touched things, the walls and cars of buildings she was still dizzily leaning against just moved on their own around her, and the whole time her body felt like it was in some constant loop of falling, like that feeling in dreams you wake up from instantly.

Everything about her was just off.

Either Mars was in some kind of terrible danger, or she was just really messed up, probably the former, since hobbling down the street in the direction of hundreds of screaming people didn’t help. Some of the lights had gone off from the shock, and every time she touched something new, a new part of the block, a different car to lean against, something flashed in her eyes, some kind of imprint inside the things she touched, finally she came to a standstill, to catch her breath.

Addison stared at the car, some black model she couldn’t recognize through the haze, one moment it felt like she was staring at the surface, then the inside of it, it wasn’t normal, but that image in her head just grew stronger, she felt like she could just feel the things the car did, if cars could feel things. Addie has no idea what she was looking at or into, but the more the looked at that image, the more it somehow sounded like the car, in her head. Addie was losing it. At least she thought she was until she tried to turn her mind away from the thought of the car, and a hole ripped open in the car.

Addie couldn’t help but jump back a bit, barely being able to stand on her feet, in the door of the car was a sudden crater, the metal just sprung to life and warped around her hand into some kind of bowl shape about the side of her head, it wasn’t crushed inwards, but instead it provided out like it was alive and reaching by for something. It was weird, but Addie reached out and touched it again, when she did the spikes seemed to recede, and bend, her head was still really foggy, but clearing up. Whatever was happening, Addie couldn’t handle it yet.

[Ceta de Cloyes]

---

"Luego, boludo!" A pair of richly dressed girls called cheerfully, steps jangling as an assortment of shiny metal bands around their ankles clacked together with every step.

Locke smirked, but didn't respond to the parting jab as Ash and Mai split off, giggling as they ducked into an alley. Mai's scales, the transparent skin-like kind, glittered as she passed under a neon light, while Ash's black cat tail curled playfully as he watched them go. He'd long grown used to the quirky physiology of his friends and former coworkers, he didn't even think twice about it anymore, except maybe a pang of longing when he missed his fangs, he'd just had them for so long not having them was unnerving.

At his side another girl, dressed like Locke himself was in dark, baggy clothes, gave him an awkward smile. Her name was Jana, only barely old enough to be employed by the Glitters properly, and today had been her first day. "C'mon," he said lightly, "let's find a vendor in the square and I'll buy you lunch." Her smile became a bit more genuine as she nodded silently.

The baggy wardrobe had been his idea; first timers were eased into the business, so her first shift was only half of the normal schedule, which meant she'd probably end up walking alone in the cold at the busiest time of day. Not the moment to be caught in a skimpy Glitters uniform in the kind of neighborhood she came from, so when Jemma gave him a call to take care of the fresh recruit he couldn't in good conscience turn her down. So, under his advice, Jana had come prepared with a change of warm clothes, a knife in her back pocket, and all the necessary nick-knacks he'd found useful himself when he was just starting out.

He led her through the crowd confidently, long used to the rush of Takari Square, to a little fire-escape poking off one of the alleys. It led to what was essentially an out-door bar... if you wanted to be generous. There were only four seats, one of which was claimed by an extremely tired looking old woman probably on her lunch break, and behind the scuffed metal tabletop was a hallway and a closet - or rather the closet was actually a mini-kitchen with all the fittings, but it looked like a closet anyways. The man behind the counter was just as old as the other customer, but he was spry in a way that few were at that age, rising from his stool eagerly as soon as Locke and Jana came into view.

"Mr. Mbege!" Locke greeted with forced cheer - the man was annoyingly friendly, but he made good take-out at least.

"Hey there Locke!" Mr. Mbege returned, practically glowing. He wasn't sure if that was from the overhead light being far too bright or if he was just that energetic. "Who's your new friend?!"

A quick glance confirmed that Jana didn't want to be stuck conversing with the guy any more than Locke did. He resolved wo make it as quick and painless as possible; "Mr. Mbege, this is Jana. Jane, Mr. Mbege." He quickly introduced, and then continued before the stall-owner could continue. "She's had a bit of a long day today, so we're just going to get something quick so she can get home, yeah?"

Mr. Mbege was already nodding, dreads flying from his enthusiastic understanding. "Wiped out already are ya? I know how that is! When I was your age it was always go-go-go, run myself ragged by noon and then fresh as a daisy by midnight with nothing to do!" The man was already puttering over to his closet- or kitchen-set, whatever, and was stashing miscellaneous food stuffs into little shiny take-out boxes that were mostly foil with stringy handles. "The usual for the both of ya, aye Locke?"

"Er, right. Thanks, Mr. Mbege." Jana watched on silently, torn between interest and exhaustion. Then she remembered her manners and chimed in softly: "Yes, thank you Mr. Mbege."

He went on in a mostly incoherent babble all the while, waving off their niceties and speaking about something or other that neither of them could follow. In short order they were trooping back down the fire escape to ground level and were immediately assaulted by the bustle of the square all over again.

Jana was just starting to open up to him, commiserating via complaints about the day dragging on, when something... unusual happened. There was a sound like a roar, and then everything seemed to twist.

Dull whiteness faded and converged several times before Locke jerked into true awareness, mind plagued by uncertain visions. Around him was chaos, a cacophony of motion and noise that didn't match quite right with his previous recollections of this place.

Is... I'm in Takari Square? Right, with Jana- where's Jana?

Fire, rubble, ash, and bodies. He did not like the implications of that mix. "Ja-" he coughed, voice rough and dry. He cleared it and tried again, "Jana?" He called, climbing to his feet and dusting off the worst of the dirt on his face.

Something else exploded, several somethings probably, and Locke was knocked on his ass once again, tripping over a brick of concrete. Only when he hit the ground and the world snapped back into focus did he realize how blurry everything had become. "Jana?!" He called again, climbing to his feet, "What the fuck?" Everything was rapidly descending into total anarchy, and the advance of soldiers and mechs definitely didn't help. He had just realized that said soldiers were attacking the victims instead of helping when a glowing blur of silver let out a war-cry he was too far away to understand and charged the armed men. It only seemed to heighten the madness.

Then he saw Jana. Just out of the corner of his eye, looking disheveled but fine. He cried her name out again and hopped over a piece of twisted metal to reach her. "Jana! Are you alright?! We've gotta get you to Jemma-" and then he touched her, just a tap on her arm to guide her away, and he recognized whatever he was touching wasn't Jana. Then, poof... Like a bubble bursting she was gone, and Locke stared at his hands in bemusement as he felt a weird tension fade from his mind. Strange, because he hadn't noticed it before. He turned, looking around utterly lost. What was that, if not Jana? Why did it... break?

"LOCKE!" A voice called from behind him, high pitched and afraid. He spun, shocked from his confusion, and then paled. Jana was running to him, trying to at least, her legs were bleeding and trembling, and trio of large soldier-types were charging after her. Locke froze, trying to assess, but it was already to late. The man in the lead swiped with a baton and caught the young girl at the base of her skull. Something snapped loudly, and Jana fell forward with a gurgle and a wet croak.

The men's eyes rose from her fallen form to stare directly at Locke. "Fuck." He swore, and turned to run, and immediately tripped and fell flat on his face. A steady litany of curses spilled from his lips as he hastily scrambled to his feet and darted for cover. Unfortunately the only close way out of the square was now blocked by violent soldiers, so his cover was only found further in. A whistle of something flew right past his head just as he dove, maybe it was nothing, or maybe it was a fucking gunshot. Locke took no chances and twisted around another piece of concrete only to come face to face with another corpse.

This one is one of theirs at least, he thought vindictively. A man in soldier's gear with a clear hole in his helmet. Locke didn't think twice about snatching the man's gun and darting past without a single pitying thought. Faintly he could hear shouting back the way he'd come from, and a peak out of his hiding spot confirmed that the trio that had fired at him were distracted by something else. Taking his lucky break while he had it he sprinted across the square towards where he saw a devastated statue and a few people hunkered down- scratch that, a couple people hunkered down and one person dying if not already dead. Seeing that none of them were in the uniform of the dickheads killing everyone he started cursing under his breath again as he advanced steadily towards them. By now he had ascended from being afraid to being well and truly pissed. "Anybody know what the fuck is happening?" He asked tightly, interrupting something about windows, tone sharp and hasty from adrenaline.

He was already taking in the scene and was pretty sure nobody but the meatheads beating everyone down knew anything. He could hope he was wrong at least, and if not? Hello meat shields.

[Temporary]

"Yeah. Yeah, ya got me," Madison replied slowly, barely halfway down the alleyway before he was forced to stop. He cast a glance behind him, and scanned the mercenaries that had surrounded him with a lax, but inquisitive gaze. Their equipment, their stances, their formation. Compartmentalising pain and distress had always been a strong suit of his; even against odds that far outweighed his own personal capabilities, it was his ability to work around, or through, those situations that set him apart from his peers. He could take stock of a problem, and solve it, quicker than many others could react, knowing how and why certain actions had to be taken, and the best ways in which to go about taking them.

But he wasn't enough of a fool to challenge six fully equipped mercenaries. They were either Bounty Hunters, or Private Military Contractors, but no matter where they fell on the spectrum, their numbers alone left fighting untenable. All Madison had was a backpack of basic supplies and documents, and a pistol. It was a good pistol, loaded with some of the best and most effective ammunition he could acquire, but it was ballistic, and ballistic ammunition was cheap. When every bottom of the barrel Water Bandit carried it, even the lowest grade mercenaries would be wearing bulletproof armour, and Madison could tell with a glance that they were well above that mark. Especially if Danny was willing to trust them.

"How's he doing? Last I heard Cartelli had the whole gang banged up," his tone started light as pulled his finger out from off the trigger, and slid the weapon back into its holster, gaze returning back to their apparent leader. With his left hand freed, Madison steadied himself against the wall to check the wound. His right hand pulled away from his arm, slick with fresh blood, though the pressure had stopped the flow. The wound was still fresh, and with the dirt and debris from the explosion, he imagined it was on the fast track to an infection, but for the moment, the bleeding had ceased. When his hand returned to cover the wound, his tone dropped into something more serious. More professional. "Corpo soldiers have been cracking down on the Square - wouldn't be surprised if there's an Enclave-wide lockdown imposed right about now, knowing Cartelli. If we take a couple shortcuts, we probably won't hit any patrols, but the place is gonna be guarded, heavily. I can get you inside and help transport the shit, but unless you're givin' me a better gun, you lot're on your own in a firefight. Really though anything's better than dyin' back here or out there, so you're on."

@DeadDrop

[KZOMBI3]

_{mentions of Rush @GingerBoi123}

---

Calixta snapped her eyes open in an instant. Least, that's what it felt like. At some point she had collapsed right there among the dying and the dead. It was coming to her in harsh waves; all encompassing and powerful. Her synapses firing over a mile a minute and the pain she was experiencing was something akin to when she initially damaged her body all those years ago. However internal it may be, Calixta attempted to move regardless. The pain surging through her body the way she knew power and electricity to travel to the components of the scrap tech she fiddles with from time to time. It had a central, localized point - 'like that tree' - and then from there it would branch out and travel to all the necessary points - 'like branches on a fuckin' tree!'

Tree? What fucking tree? How much NEON did she take? How hard of a hit did she take? Did the explosion and shock wave scramble her own internal components enough to super impose memories like that?

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the piercing cries of those around her. She could distinctly pick out which of those were in pain and which of those were a rallying cry. In her hazy condition she turned to survey the damage around her, hunched form as she picked herself up off the ash littered ground. Bits of concrete and debris sticking to the blood that coated her skin like a thinly veiled latex suit. It would have been sensual and something she would have enjoyed in another circumstance, perhaps, but this? This was just disturbing. It didn't help that all of this going on around her was something that seemed to have come out of nowhere. No one could have seen this coming. Could they? Amidst the shouting, Calixta took notice of a small group of people crouched around the fallen statue of their fearless leader of Mars, 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜𝚘. She would have gagged in an attempt to throw more spite on the man, but in her current situation all she could do was look on at the scene unfolding around her.

Pushing herself to stand up as tall as she could Calixta began to hobble away from the Square, at least what was left of it. Her scraped and bloodied hands were able to find purchase on a wall near her and with a finally kick to the ass on her part, she was able to use the newfound building as a crutch. The rifle she had used not but moments ago, lay near the bodies it was used on - practically forgotten at this point. She was sure someone would stumble across it and use it, she hoped it would be used to take out more of those fuckin' bastards though.

Where was she even going? Was there really anything to go to? Or rather, go back to? She was shaken up, sure, but it only affect Takari, right? Everywhere else should be relatively OK. This is New Brazil after all and OK isn't something New Brazil does. It's chaotic and swirlly and a roller coaster at the best of times. It's what Calixta enjoys most outta this place. And then shit like this happens. And without her knowledge or help for that matter. It was starting to piss her off more knowing that she knew nothing rather than the act itself and getting caught in whatever crossfire this would soon turn out to be.

As she stood there leaning against corrugated metal more of those memory like visions flashed before her eyes. It was like she were watching a movie that had been superimposed onto her retinas from her brain even though there wasn't enough power behind it. Thus resulting in the burning like sensation she was experiencing. Curling in on herself, hands gripping her head in excruciating pain, she released a sound akin to a wounded animal. The mechinations within her own skull were whirring to an insanely high RPM and it was causing a literal burn. The visions from before were playing on repeat. Never ceasing. Though they were beginning to play in order now instead of in chunks, and although she was suffering, she couldn't help but to watch on in awe - as if this information help the key to everything and she needed it for herself.

Calixta was so entranced with the motion of the video like vision experience and the pain that came along with it that she hadn't noticed that someone was approaching her location and a decent speed too. 'Snap outta it! C'mon!' Her internal self struggling and winning out over the ethereal tree visions. She released the death grip she held on her skull feeling the effects of the pressure building and then subsiding suddenly. It was like her head was stuffed with cotton and steel wool. Grating on her internals but also muffling even her thoughts.

Neon signs continued to flash and flicker around her, even if a lot of them were hanging by their cords. Sparks were beginning to fly off at random intervals from the destructed pieces. People were still hobbling around, those that could at least. Calixta briefly turned her gaze in the direction of where she believed the statue and those people were. Trying to think of what she could do and where she could go, her first thoughts were of Hpnotiq and of Marcus. "Yeah, yeah..." she voiced aloud, hoping that talking through her previous plans would jar something into her and get her to get outta this, this funk, "I was gonna bring some Stim-X to Marc... he, he would be waiting at the club..."

With that final thought she began her trek through the stalls and bodegas and alleyways to get to her place of business and hoped that her friend was there at least. To do what? She had no fucking idea. She knew she just needed someone to throw this brain vomit at and hope to the Gods that it made some fucking sense.

It seemed that all semblance of normalcy went out the door with that explosion. Well, at least for Calixta. But that's New Brazil for ya

[troye]

ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴍᴘᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ, ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴅᴇᴠɪᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴊᴏɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ. ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴꜱʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛ, ᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴇᴅ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴄʟᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍᴀɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴇɴᴛ. ᴛ'ᴡᴀꜱ ɢʟᴏʀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴀʀꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ɢʟᴏʀʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɢʟʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ... ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ...

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʀᴏᴡᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ. "ᗰEᑎ, ᗯOᗰEᑎ, ᑭEOᑭᒪE Oᖴ ᗰᗩᖇᔕ. ᑎOᗯ Iᔕ TᕼE TIᗰE TO ᒍOIᑎ ᗰE. TᕼᖇOᑌGᕼ ᗩᑕTIOᑎ, ᗯE ᗯIᒪᒪ ᗷE OᑎE, ᗩᑎᗪ ᗯE ᗯIᒪᒪ TᗩKE TᕼE ᐯIᒪᒪᗩIᑎY ᗪOᗯᑎ... ᒍOIᑎ ᗰE. IT Iᔕ YOᑌᖇ ᗪEᔕTIᑎY." ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ'ꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ.

ᴏɴᴇ ʙʏ ᴏɴᴇ, ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱQᴜᴀʀᴇ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ, ᴛᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ. ᴏɴᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴅᴇᴠɪᴀɴᴛꜱ ꜱᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀʙꜱᴏʀʙᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴅʏ, ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴜꜱᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴍᴀɴʏ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʜᴀᴅ ʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱQᴜᴀʀᴇ. ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀD ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀꜱꜱᴀᴄʀᴇ ᴇɴꜱᴜᴇᴅ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱQᴜᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴇᴍᴘᴛʏ. ᴀɴʏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ...

---

THE I͖̟̠͚̯̰͖M̮̺̪M̩̮̬̼͂ͦ̓̚O͓͔̯͇̲̲̼̪R̳̤̦̣̖̟̻̝̱͈̪͗̓͌̿ͥͤ̾ͭ̾͐̈T͙̼̺̝̥̪͕͖͂͆̓̃ͫͤ̄̄A̞͓̦͙̦̟̲̫͗̄ͭ͗ͮͨ͛͂L͈ͅ HAS RISEN.

[Utrax]

He wanted to cry but there were no tears.
He wished to scream but could make no sound.

Paulo told himself to calm down-- to take deep breaths-- but found himself wanting to laugh in grim amusement. There was no way to take that breath-- he felt no heart racing, no shaking in his hands, nothing but his mind full of fear and confusion. Well then. If he couldn't have the physical aspects, despite obviously being able to move, then he had to do the mental calmness.

What was important here? What could be controlled? His hand had moved and he'd received visions! They were divine visions! Had that been the birth of a god, he'd seen? Was that the origin of the Martians? What a beautiful tree that had been-- but what had happened to him? How had he moved his hand? A closer, louder, sound of scraping caught his attention and instinctively he looked toward it-- but how? Such an angle was impossible for him to see without having to move his neck--"ᔕᑫᑌIIIᔕᕼY!!"

A confused kind of fear surged in Paulo and he sat up sharply-- an alarmed "GURGLE!!" erupted from him as if he were a water jug shook. A mutant had come from the darkness and they were running toward him, swinging their chain, clearly ready to do... do something? What was their intent? Just as Paulo began to hold his hands up in some form of surrender, they were PULLED back into the darkness. All at once, Paulo's squishy body seemed to tense, as it firmed somewhat to conform to a humanoid shape.

A "Gurgle" of confusion left Paulo as another mutant stepped forward. While their odd garment was alarming, as was their height, Paulo began to consider the possibility that he may have been the alarming one instead...

"ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼᗷᗩG Oᖴ GᖇEEᑎ, ᗯᕼY YOᑌ ᗪOᗯᑎ Iᑎ ᔕEᗯEᖇᔕ ᗯITᕼ ᗰᑌTᗩᑎTᔕ? YOᑌ ᗯEᖇE ᔕᒪᗩᐯE?"

Paulo couldn't answer but he held his hands up still, as if he were being robbed, and hopefully communicating to them that he meant no harm. He "BUBL'd" placatingly. Still, the reaction of the speaker gave Paulo the feeling that something was definitely alarming about his appearance-- the pile of dead rats probably didn't help either. A lone bubble of exasperation popped within his helmet.

"ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼᗷᗩG ᗪOᑎ'T ᗷEᒪOᑎG ᕼEᖇE, ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼ TOᑭ ᔕIᗪE. ᗯE GO TO ᑕᒪEᗩᖇᖴᗩᒪᒪᔕ."

Clearfalls? He'd never heard of that place but something about the tone of this guy, well, it gave Paulo motivation. Time to move would come eventually and clearly it was meant to come now. Within, Paulo recited the words of his own private prayer, as a means of centering himself.

"All shall be as it must,
all will be as They will..."

He'd moved before. He could move again. Despair called his name and panic longed for his presence, but Paulo focused instead on where he wanted to be-- on his feet. Had it been so simple last time? Will and need to move happening purely with the thought-- raising a hand not by feeling but by desire. There was no need to feel, to pull or push, and thank the Saints he felt no pain now. No. His pain now was mental and so must his movement be.

"...I walk my path in faith,"
that I will find the way I am meant to,
and arrive right on time."

As if he were a puppet controlled by strings, Paulo's body rose all at once. Shoulders high and legs limp, he rose until the tips of his boots only slightly touched the ground, before he sank once again. Standing on the approximation of feet, knees bent slightly with should posture slouched forward, he stood as if he were one of those ancient "cavemen" but, he stood. Slowly and quietly he walked toward the sewer wall-- his floating skull pressing against the inside of his helmet-- and he tried to be as out of the way of the mutants as possible. As he moved, the hissing of the ground below him caught his attention, and he looked at his hand again. Whatever substance was leaking from his hand-- the tiny drops of it were causing the floor beneath them to boil and bubble. Once he was as out of the way as he could possibly be, Paulo took in the sight of the mutants-- most importantly their chains.

And then, with a rotation of his skull floating within the tank, he stared at his hand.

Acting upon a sudden idea, he slowly moved his other hand, to open up the small console controller, attached to the arm opposite, then hit a button. Though most of the suit's systems were probably a mess- especially since static was still screeching into his helmet-- Paulo hit the button for the info-graphic helmet display. Immediately, light illuminated across his helmet, forming the "universal" symbol for "help", and Paulo then pointed to mutants, then back to himself. Then came his gurgled question, "卄乇ㄥ卩?"

Paulo bubbled like a hot tub in mild alarm at having... spoke? Did that noise qualify as speaking?
Then again he gurgled more words-- with increasing clarity-- "ʜᴇʟᴘ... Me. What. Is *GLUG* Clearfalls?" He was down here for a reason, wasn't he? Seeing these mutants for a reason-- these Cartelli slaves-- so maybe he'd better act on it while he had the chance, even if it wasn't the most pressing matter at hand.

^{@DeadDrop
Edit: Cause i'm bad at colors.}

[Tsar Gatto]

---

As much as the urge to just sit there was overpowering, the urge to get the fuck up and survive seemed slightly more so. Maybe it also had something to do with the two fresh corpses beside her. Yeah, she still couldn’t explain that.

She took a few moments to awkwardly search them both for a keycard to the cuffs, but found nothing and with an irritated frown she mumbled “Well fuck you both then”.

Standing she grimaced as pain again shot through her chest and she remembered the recent and very unpleasant sensation of being crushed by one of them. Pushing the thoughts away she quickly she took a few steps before she spotted her neon KitTechy™© backpack amongst some rubble and suddenly she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about it and almost left it behind. She snatched it up and carried it as she wandered forwards through the square towards the only small group of standing people she could see left.

Dominating the scene was a fallen statue of good ol’ Roger Markso which seemed to be crushing some unlucky son of a bitch.

Good to see some things never change…

As she got closer, she could see that he was definitely not going to be recovering from his injuries.

Fuuuck. How is that dude even still alive?

Glancing around she also spotted the body of the man who’d been punching into the Sec-goons like they’d been made of tissue paper before he too had received a healthy dose of death. She remembered as well the other fucking bizarre shit she’d seen – it was all starting to come back from the chaos of the moment. Some chick ‘screaming’ a bunch of guys into the air, and what had been with the silver guy? Was he vaporising shit? Why was he silver? She was glad he’d gone the other way and taken the heat with him for now, but even then, he’d made her skin crawl with his strange speeches and shiny butt.

There were three figures stood around the obviously dying man, listening to his apparent last words. She caught the tail end of it, not that it made too much sense. Free Mountain? Shit, was that next to Candy Mountain she wondered sarcastically. Suddenly there was an explosion a while off as a colossal automaton unit got obviously fucked up somehow. Goddamn this had not been the kind of day she was expecting it to be. Not even a little.

The somewhat grunge looking guy said something that did make sense though as they stood around awkwardly.

"We need to go before our window closes."

She guessed he was referring to the fact security was off trying to deal with whatever the fuck the silver guy was. Stepping forwards slightly she spoke up “That’s the first thing I’ve heard that makes any fucking sense.”

She took a brief moment to look at each of the three men before she added “Those Sec pricks, they’re not your usual run of the mill traffic wardens. They’re hardcore extermination squads and ain’t exactly gonna stop and ask us questions”.

She dreaded to think what would happen to the poor bastards who’d already been snatched up. Fuck, she dreaded to think about what would have happened to her if she’d been picked up. Something told her that daddy dearest wouldn’t be calling in any favours to pull her ass out of the fire, at least not before she’d endured a fuck load of unpleasant shit to say the least. No thank you.

One of the three guys, the green haired one, had been trying to clear the rubble and help the man despite the fact it was clearly pointless. Maybe they know each other she thought briefly as she stood watching.

“Any of you know anything about what the fuck is happening here?” she asked them, watching each of them carefully for any signs of… well, anything else fuckin weird.

[BigPapaBelial]

He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't believe it. The multi colored haired young Glitter guy looked at the man sitting under the statue, how could he not use a shot to take away whatever pain he must be feeling. It's really unfathomable to the flashily dressed man. Mason sniffs and tries to reason that out, his mind just working sluggishly at the moment. This is all a shock to him. And he sighs, "Alright...no injection for you...but I think..." and even before anyone can say anything Mason presses the hypo to his neck and with a click and hiss one of the charges in it empties into his blood stream. As he slips the hypo away, the self cleaning needle tinging a little, it's clear whatever was in there was pretty good.

The sigh Mason lets out and the glassy tint to his eyes say he's seeing and feeling things that are incredible, "Okay...this whole thing isn't so bad now." He looks around in tie to see in the distance whatever the hell that guy did to all those people way up the road. "Whoa...okay...that just happened." He looks down at the fella still laying there, and without really thinking about it, starts to pick him over, "Sorry...know this is kinda low, but brother...you're gonna die...wanna see if there is anything you have that might...just whoa that's a new color to taste..." He smiles a little briefly then goes back to searching the dying mans pockets, "Hmmm might be something useful you know?" Mason begins to hum the melody to a certain modern EDM track. And sways side to side as he does, probably traits of the drug he just shot into his system and the music playing in his head.

With a sniff he looks up sharply at the big chick with the augmetic arm, "What? I'm as in the dark as you babe..." He sniffs again and gives a funny look, "Whoa that's another nice taste with a color..." He takes a moment as his brain sparks and kicks catching up, "All I can remember is going home after my shift...light...heat...the feeling of being lifted off my feet. I'm lucky thaat piece of concrete that landed over me didn't crush me." He shrugs and turns back to rifling through the dying mans pockets.