TrippyNightmare

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

Kleo had been rushing and running for total combat and annihilation, not paying attention to the falling gunship that her team had blown out the sky not too long ago. Sprinting and being on stims was fucking great. "YEEEAAAAAAHHH LETS KILL THESE-" Then the gunship fell on Kleo, or rather parts of it fell on her. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" She went and vanished under a hail of dust and metal not being turned into a human pancake but being beaten and bruised in the worst way imaginable. When the dust had settled she was already being fished out by the Alice lady, an alien thing. She couldn't remember what race, tribe or thingy she was from. She was cut, hurt, and bruised this sucked. She had to blame the liens for this shit, but then again it was always them saving her ass.

"Fuck... I'm fucked up dewd!" She sputtered out.

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

Kleo was forcefully injected with alien DRUGS, the bad kind. She didn't ask for this but now here she was being injected 40mm style, it sucked but that's what happened when you were fighting with aliens. "GAAAAAAAAAAH!" she screamed out like she was some kind of warrior, a soldier of eons bygone. She stood up like a soldier on drugs (she was), gripped onto her shit and made her way down to kill whatever automatons that were left over.

"FUCK! LET'S GO!" She screamed hanging back behind the 'Alice Lady' as she hiked up her Rockefeller ready to lay down hate to anything or person that got in her way. Kleo shambled her way down towards the enemy, she knew it was going to hurt by the time everything had worn out. In fact she was still temporarily deaf from almost being blown up, she kept saying in her head that everything was going to be okay. Maybe it would be if they could frag out and smoke these idiots, this mission couldn't end any sooner. Spitting some blood out of her mouth, the woman carried on!

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

𝚃𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘, 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚜, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟻 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜, 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚜, 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚗𝚎𝚕. 𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.

𝚃𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚍. 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚐. 𝚂𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝. 𝙰 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒-𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

"𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜... 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚝 - 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚙?" 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚜, 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚜.

𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚙.

𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚙.

𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚙.

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.

casual rps

Thanks ThatLostMod, anyone else getting unsolicited mass PMs?

Length of a Roleplay

What do I mean by this?

How long do you think a roleplay should last, not OOC day wise but in terms of content.

Do you plan acts, sections? Does everything just flow freely, do you have a general idea of how things will go?

Nightland

I know it's been 3 years but I find myself coming back to Nightland and Divinity Lost (Which is ran by the same GM on a alt.)

The premise is practically identical and how it plays out, for anyone second guessing it.

More so these two roleplays have helped in my style of writing and how I present my aesthetic, but both were beautifully written and thought provoking RPs.

I feel like horror roleplays are under rated, it's unfortunate in both instances the GMs ghosted but it made me a better roleplayer. Often times I wonder if I'll ever see something similar, but I don't think it's meant to be.

Maybe I'm still caught up in the mystery of who or what was Kino End / Poet? I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about this RP, it's ended up on my 🐐 wall.

Stay creative everyone.

BLEAK

I come back to this again and again, the BLEAK series (specifically the first one) really spoke to me emotionally.

I can't place exactly what it was, the story was easy to follow, some of the ideas were thought provoking and the RP was generally enjoyable (and the rpers).

I can't believe it's been 5 years, I reflected on my time in Guild and realized I trolled alot in some of the RPs I was in but BLEAK and some others on my 🐐 wall I took quite seriously.

I don't think anything could replace this RP, or emulate it but it made me a better roleplayer and I rarely see a roleplay up to this standard anymore.

Rest easy lil BLEAK.

Caleb's Stand: the Town of the Dirgewood [Canceled]

Looks cool.

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

Gazzaro-I, some time ago.
♫

"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎."

𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚡𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕-𝚢𝚘𝚞-𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍-𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚄𝙲𝙻 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚍-𝚖𝚊𝚡 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚞𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚢-𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝙲𝙻. 𝙴𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝟶𝟷𝟶𝟶 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑.

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚝.

𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎, 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝙲𝙻 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚘. 𝙼𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚃𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙸𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚙𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙰 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚔𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙸𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜—𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚄𝙲𝙻 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 '𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎,' 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙸𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚢𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛.

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚗𝚞𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎! 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗, 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚝, 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.

"𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚛..." 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚛.

Present day

"...𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗." 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, '𝙴𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚍,' 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝.

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝙳𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝; 𝚄𝙲𝙻 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍-𝚝𝚘-𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚞𝚟𝚎𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚞 𝙶𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚘? 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙲𝙸𝚅𝚂𝙴𝙲 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜.

𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍. 𝙰 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍.

𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛.

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜.

𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝.

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

𝙸𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙼𝚠𝚊𝚑, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚔𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝟷𝟶𝚖𝚖 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚜 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚣𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚍-𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝.

𝙿𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛, 𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚂' 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎. 𝚄𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙺𝚕𝚎𝚘, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚡𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 (𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚞𝚜!) 𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 '𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎' 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚐𝚞𝚗-𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚜.

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 - 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎.

ɄⱤ₲Ɇ₦₮ⱠɎ.