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[PP-F22] When Comes the NIGHT


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When Comes the Night

The daylight seemed to fall into a crimson haze over the horizon, casting a faint glow upon the river that flowed through the Shirajishi-ryū Valley.  A whirl and a whizz is heard before a plop comes from the water, a small splash before a red orb could be seen on the surface.  It bobbed up and down for a long.  After a minute or so, there didn't seem to be any life or care, as the little bobber fought against the current of the river it sat in.  There would be much more waiting to be had, it seemed.

The hunter sighed as he began to pull upon the line, which made it reel in a bit.  The desired effect would be a slight amount of movement on the bobber, and a lot of wiggling from the baited hook.  It wouldn't be much, but it was usually enough for something to bite.  Though, he did have to wait for the fish to finally take the bait and be snagged.  Hirru had set up shop on the pier where the boats were tethered, and felt that it would be a better place after his discussion earlier.

Earlier, he had asked Ariel for permission to use her dojo, so that he could have a 'talk' with anyone that wanted to actually work with him, but still had doubts.  His stunt on the 23rd floor, while trying to protect that dark elf boy, was a very sour topic for some people, as it caused a large rift in the front lines.  He had heard enough from both sides.  Each had their own truths and ideals, and Hirru explained everything to Hestia and Baldur.  He was still not sure if either really understood.  In the end, it was his voice that would change his impact on the front, not everyone elses.  However, the news set upon the newer members of the raid, and the students of Ariel's school seemed to murmur and talk behind him.  He couldn't hear the words, and it seemed that not many would confront him, even though he was willingly alone in that dojo.  After some time, he decided that it would be better to be outside.  The fresh mist from the river during the evening light would be better for his nerves.

A pull on the line would bring the hunter's mind back to the world around him.  He pulled back on the rod itself, while keeping the line from snapping.  A pull and a twist later, and the hunter was a proud owner of a old boot.

"Well, you're not very helpful, now are you?"

Hirru looked back up to his opened menu, where a sent message stood.  

Quote

To: @NIGHT

From: Hirru

Hello!  You wished to talk?

Hirru stats

Spoiler

840 HP (+160 PL / +60 IS)
96 Energy (+12 PL)
3 Accuracy
1 Evasion
122 Mitigation
1 Paralysis
32 Envenom 

Equipment

Shelob's Fang ...................... // +1 Accuracy, +1 Paralysis, +32 Envenom
Spirit of the Jade Dragon .......... // +2 Accuracy, +1 Evasion
Bulwark ............................ // +72 Mitigation
Blades Cloak ....................... // Vanity
Lun'Rael's Insignia ................ // Unique Vanity 
Dimensional Backpack ............... // +1 B.R.I Slot

Battle Ready Inventory

<Teleportation Crystal> x1 ......... // Teleport to a town / out of a dungeon [Uses 2 posts: 1 for use, next to teleport]
<Favor of the Golden Dragon> ....... // +3 Luck Die
<Rush Bar> ......................... // +12 EN
<Potion of Moderate Healing> ....... // +10% Health Recovery
<Empty>
<Empty>
<Empty>
<Empty>

Skills

Heavy Armor ........................ // Rank 5: +35 MIT
Battle Healing ..................... // Rank 5: +5% HP each turn
Extended Weight Limit .............. // +2 B.R.I Slot

Extra Skills (Max 4)

First Aid .......................... // Rank 5: +20% ST-H / -15 EN
Leadership ......................... // Rank 5: Command the Front w/ Buffs

Skill Mods / Addons (Max 5 Mods)

Iron Skin (Add on) ................. // +15 Mit / +60 HP
Field Medic (Add on) ............... // +25% AOE-H / -15 EN / 3 turn Cooldown
Hyperactive (Add on) ............... // +3 EN Regen for 3 turns / -5 EN / 3 turn Cooldown

Large Pockets ...................... // B.R.I. slots each can contain 15 same type items
Barrier ............................ // -15% Dmg shield AOE / -15 EN / 2 turn Cooldown
Energize ........................... // +8 EN ST / -10 EN
Steadfast .......................... // +1 ACC AOE, -1 ACC self / -6 EN / 3 turn Cooldown
Press The Attack ................... // +(Target Tier) Dmg, -(Cumulative)Dmg / -10 En / 5 turn Cooldown

Housing Buffs

Rested ............................. // -1 EN for 2 uses
Relaxed ............................ // OOC HP regen 5*tier Rec EN after 2 turns
Filling ............................ // Increase food by +1 T1 slot
Multipurpose ....................... // +1 LD, Stealth, Dection, or Prosperity to 1 post
Practiced Angler ................... // +1 EXP & +1 LD & CD to attempts

 

Edited by Hirru
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She'd heard the meeting dismissal. Nothing else aside from it, the person she was looking for seeming to have sent her a missive out the blue. Still on calm waters was she being ferried out of the 23rd, gaze towards the horizon, that mix of red and yellow overpowering the blues.

NIGHT looked back to the message, before her sights rested again on the sky.

"What is it?"

Silence, still. She'd let her eyes flick towards a different estate in the distance had she the care. Instead, she took it as her cue to send off her reply after a few beats, humming softly to herself, gauging their distance from Ariel's dojo with a glance upwards.

"Nothing much."

NIGHT: yeah
NIGHT: where were you? figured you'd drop the msg sooner
NIGHT: otw out the 22nd. somewhere else better for u?

"I'll be back late," the player explained herself, keeping the interface open, turning her head towards the waters. White sparkles reflected off orange lines, and she wondered again if she could trace the outlines of the lanterns out, bobbing along the surface. That tension from her memory remaining, as a warning to her reminiscence, just as her posture indicated relaxation; a backwards lean, folded arms.

"Meeting someone?"

"..."

She looked towards the messenger again, with suspicion.

"... With any luck."

b3ue0Fx.png | NIGHT
 | Lv. 98 >> P. 67, Lv. 31
 | Status: ...

 Notes:
 using mega slime farm.

Spoiler

NIGHT | HP: 880/880 | EN: 126/126 | DMG: 21 | ACC: 3 | EVA: 3 | MIT: 44 | LM: 2 | HLY: 8 | PHASE | LD: 5 | BH: 38 | Stealth Rating: 6


equipped

  • Orgoth's Legacy
    ACC, PHASE, HOLY (8)
  • Tracksuit of Unfathomable Fashionability
    MIT (24), LM II
  • Silver Crescent Necklace
    ACC II, EVA II

battle-ready inventory

  • //

skills

Spoiler

mod count: 4/5

  • 2HSS | RANK 5/5
    • focus, stamina, precision
    • shift: aoe
  • CLOTH ARMOR | RANK 5/5
    • athletics, nimble
  • COMBAT MASTERY: DMG | RANK 3/3
  • SEARCHING | RANK 4+1/5
  • BATTLE HEALING | RANK 3/5
  • EXTENDED MOD LIMIT
  • ENERGIST
  • FAMILIAR: PROFESSION
  • QUICK CHANGE

extra

  1. SURVIVAL
  2. CONCENTRATION
  3. HIDING
    • blindside, vanish, surprise attack-t

buffs

Spoiler

statue

  • BIALAS | +TAUNT
  • MOTHRA | +1 EN Recovery
  • TANOS | +25 MIT
  • MORETSUNA | +50 HP
  • OROCHI | +1 LD
  • KUMATETSU | +1 DMG

consumables

  1. - - -
  2. - - -

paragon

  • Lv. 5 | Gain additional col equivalent to 15% of EXP earned in that thread.
  • Lv. 10 | +1 LD to looting.

sword arts

Spoiler

en cost matches multiplier unless stated otherwise. shift underlined.

  • ST | x12 -> x15 | x20
  • AOE | x15 -> x18
  • TECH-A | x12 | STUN | 13EN
  • TECH-B | x12 | DELAY
  • TECH-D | x12 | SHATTER
  • TECH-G | x12 | BURN

misc.

Spoiler

housing

  • Dimensional Backpack, Item Stash
    | +2 Battle-Ready Inventory Slots.
  • Well Rested
    | -1 EN for the first three expenditures of each combat. 
  • Relaxed
    | +(5 * Tier) HP per out-of-combat post. Full energy restoration occurs after two turns out of combat.
  • Squeaky Clean
    | -25% DoT damage taken from the first DoT applied to this player in a thread.
  • Skylight: Searching
    | +1 Expertise to declared utility skill. Cooldown of 30 days to reassign.
  • Multipurpose
    | +1 LD/Prosperity/Stealth/Detection to one post per thread. Can be applied after a roll.
  • Filling
    | +1 T1 slot to a food consumed by this player in a thread. Can exceed Cook enhancement caps.
  • Col Deposit
    | +5% col from loot-minimum mobs, +10% col from treasure chests.

gathering

  • Greenhouse
    | +2 G.EXP, +1 CD&LD to gathering attempts.
  • Familiar: Profession
    | +2 G.EXP
  • Demeter's Cornucopia
    | +1 CD to gathering attempts. 

 

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"Hmm?"

The hunter's attention seemed to be pulled to the message that popped up in the middle of him pulling in yet another boot.  This was the second pair that he had pulled out of this bloody river these past few hours.  He sighed before opening the message.  From the posted message, it occurred to the hunter that he had not messaged back until after he had left the dojo.  A slap of shame to his forehead, would be all the fault he would perform upon himself.  He would have to apologize for this, at least.

Quote

 

To NIGHT
From Hirru

Ah!  Sorry, I'm still at Ariel's estate, just on the river surrounding the valley.  I'm fishing on the pier.  It seemed more peaceful.  Look for the impossible to miss green hair.

 

"Damn..  This is why the Commander, Mack and Mac were better at arranging a meeting than me."

After sending the message, the hunter would look at the message that would bring their interests together.  Talk to Hidden?  The hunter wasn't sure why, but he could make a prediction or two.  NIGHT possibly knew the little stabby one, or they were antagonistic towards one another.  From the meeting, Hirru could tell that they seemed to know each other, by the way Hidden reacted when confronted by the raven haired one.  Still, if Hidden was going to act like Opal, or the Chaos Sisters, Ariel and Zandra back in their darker moments; the hunter would have to look into mental guidance from Baldur or Calrex.  He wished that he could talk to Teayre once more.  He missed their talk.

The hunter's gaze seemed to fade out into the distance, though not really looking at anything in particular.  His thoughts going to times long past.  Much happier than what he had been now, but those memories were still fresh in his mind.  He could not remember being any happier...

Spoiler

"̷̟̳̣̓͒̍́́̅̆͘͜H̶̢̨̝̣̱̖̗̤͔͖̜̦͉̝̊͌͜e̸̱̦͈͍͆̄̂̎͋̓̈́͘y̷̙̫͍͍̼̲̠̐͂̆̈́͆̀͒̈́̓̓̓͠ ̷̨̘̝̞͕̘̙̯̠̱̤͕̠̽̾̄̓̊̒̏̀̕ͅý̵̡̢̡̙̻̟̙̪̥̬͑͂͐̎͒̀̊̀͒ͅo̵͎͓͉̹̙̩̐̋̆̔̽̏̉̂̐̎̆̋̅̋̊͘͝u̵͇̠̣̎̒̈́̄̋͗͐͠ ̷̞̠̊̒͊̾̊̔̓̈́̂̋͆͊͌͛̓̉̀g̷̨̢̝̲̮̩̙͉̝̻̘͕̖͍̠͆̀̔̚͘ư̷͍̜̰̗͔͎̠̥̖̹̬̭̙͙̻͉͙̪̾̊͑̈̋̆̋̈̋̆̈́̿̀͠y̴̠͔̙̜̠̤̺͍͋̂͂̀s̷̡̮͔̦̠̠̈͋̋͜!̸̦̻̩̫͑͜ ̵̡̗͎͖̻̬͇̽ ̴̢̹̜̣͓̼̭̭͕͎̜͕͎̮͖̫̽̐̄͋̓̀̈́̌̀̌̕̚Ỉ̶̧̡̬̣̮̮̳̺̠͚͎̻̗̩̠̠̠͚̏̀̓̋̍͝͠ ̵͈̼̬̰̦̩͚͙̞̈́̌̎̀́̀͗̈͗̊̈͝f̸̨̦͚̱̗̱̻̹̪͎̫̂̏́̒͋͑̂͌̇̉͘i̴̗͖̖̟̘͇̼̰͖̮̋͒ņ̵̨̢̩̲̼̞̥̹͕̗͓͔̮̱̟̺̥͊̂̀͐͑̋̎̆̄̓̾͂̓̽̕͘a̷̛̞̎̊̈́̿̏̓͊͂͗͂͋͘͝l̴͙̣͙̹͔̽̑̃̌̍́̑̒̄̔̈̈́̐̅̚̕͜l̷̥̜̲̹̼͎͚͙͖͂̋̂̎̐̏̔̈́̏̾͛͌͊́͠͝͝ẙ̴͎̦̻̂̎̊̕ ̷̜͑͒͊̊͋͒̽͌͆͛̄́͘g̷̡̮͙̗͕̝͉͊̅͠ơ̶̡̨̨̩̲̱̰̗̩̟̮̻̥̱̗̪̙̓̀͒̇̍͝͝ť̸̟̯͆̈́̅́̊́͋̍̔̑̆̔͛̐̚͘ ̵̰͚͔̱͔̙͋͗͘t̴͉͇͔̥̯͎̥̙͖̣̲͚̗̗͛̐̈́͌͂́̈́̇̈̆̕͝ͅȟ̷̛̗̟̥̭͉̮͚̯̲̣̞͈͚͍̂̂́̀́́̇̽͆͝͝͠į̵̧͙̠̘̂̀̒͛͂͐̈̓͑̊͂̈́̏̑̈͘͜͝ş̵̩͖̖̝́́͗̿̌͝ ̴̨̡̺̞̞͚̱͍̱̠̀̄͋̉̀̋̾̅̈̒̕̕͜ͅć̶̼̩̰̝̭̟̪̲̗̯͕̦̰̤̬͂̈́́̐̀̒͌̓͒̄ǫ̴̪̳̭͕̬̖̼̉ơ̷̘̩̩̣͎̥̠̜̥͕͍̂͛̓̉͛̾͌͊̽̔̏̽̌̚̕̕l̶̨̛̗̼̮̞̰͚͖̟̩͍̮̖̫̖͈̽͑̾̂̍́̔̈̓̀͋̔̐ ̵̢̛̙̱̲͇͙̦̗̥̖̫̱͇͑͆̈́̒͗̇̒̑͆̾͛̏́̚͝l̵̥͍͕̪̭̖̯̈͊̏̉͒̊́́͂̾͐̾̓̋̚͠͠y̴͕̥͓͈̰̫͚̘̘̎̐̍̽̿͛̈́̉͘ŗ̶̫̺͕̲͚̜̏e̸̡̨̪͈̹͙͉͎̞̟̳̠͍̬̱̼̥̐̏̚͘͜ ̴͕͖͚̼̰̗͙̾͊͒͋͊͂̎̈́͊̏̏̀̐̅͋̚͠ţ̶̯̳̲̉́͆́̈́̂̃͆͘͠ḩ̴̢̳̰̟̜̞͎̯̱̮͚̅̾̄͜a̵̘̔̾͊͐t̷̜̪̬̘̬̗̟͊̓̂̾́̓̉͗ ̸̭͖̜̥̣̦̬̯̤͊̓̀̈́͋͋̒̈͋͋̍̓̽̀͘̕͜͠͝ͅĮ̷̙̩̮̯̥̭̙̩̼̗̫̟͚͙͚̀͋͋̽̀̿̎̋́̾̌̿̊̋̃͜͝͠͠ ̴̧̛̖̣̗̞̝͇̪͚͚̝̅̒̈́̏͆̀̋̑̌̋̀̈́́͊w̷̢̯̫̫̭̠̲̙̃̈́̍̿͒̀̾̅͆̓̈́̊͆͊̀͝͠͝ą̷̱͎̭̠̱̺̠̟͈̠̭͓̰̱̄͂͘ͅn̷͓̼̙̜̭̞̉͐̎̚t̴̨̖̞͍̹͓̰̱̲̩̘̺̭̯̯̘̀͂̈̎́̐̈̀͆̉̈̾̇͝͝ẻ̷̡̨̛̫̪̘͍̼̬̝̫̬̯̪̀́̇̆̑͑͌́̔̏̆̈́̅̀͝d̷̡̢̧̘̳͉̭̼̹̝̥̺̩͍̾̄͊͜ͅ!̷̡̨̥͔͒̃̈̌̓̇͊̔͗̏͛͂̿͘͝ͅ"̶̧̧͚̯̫̮̪̘̺̱̟̦̎͐̋̔̀̇̑̎͌̉̐̅̽͜
̸̨̟̖͙͓̪͔͖͙͚̙͍̞̾̎͛̔̕
̸̨̡̛͈̼̲͈͎̮̓́̔͒̅̉̂̈̿̀̈́́͑̓͘͘͝"̴͎̯͈̜̀̽ͅỌ̷̢̦̮̘̠̩̥̥̼͍͉͚̰͇͍͕̑̾͒̃͛̎̉̀̈́̕͜͠ẖ̵̡̡̧̜͚̬̹̪̪̪̫̠̲̖̣̺͈̀̆̄͗?̷͆̆̅̿̽̽̆̐̾͂̒́̓̀̉̆̕̚ͅ ̴̛͉̩̊͐̋̃̓́̀̄̈́̉̏̐̈̉̅ ̷̧̰̜̺͛̉̚C̸̡̩̬͓̞̺̥̜͓̟̹̱͎̱̟͓̗̓͒̃̊̂̈͐̄̔͂̒̒͂̉͘̕͘͝a̷̛̞̦̱͓̣̺̤̼̪͙̹͕̮͈̹̠͌̅̾̽̋̅̈́̑͒̀̃̓́̓͗̕ņ̸̳̙̟̝̝̹̦̮̘̠̠̤̳̘̤̪̺̉̈́͂͂̉͋̅̃̚̚͠͠͠ ̵̨̡̰̹̦̣̖̠̜̼̭̬̄̌͑̊͌̌͆̂͂͠͝y̷̪͔̫̠̯͔͚͕͖̥̮̍̇͗͐̆̀͌̆͌̾̃̑͠͝o̸̠̱̠͉͎͕͖̘͠u̴̧̺̘̼̩͉̺͈͙͚̼͗̏̂̅͗͜ ̸̙̈́̀̀̿͆̓͌̈́̈͑̈́̈́̐ȩ̶̧̲̫͖̙̯̺͍̞̻̯͙̯̻͖̍͐̍͂̒̊͘͘͜v̸̤̮̲̀̎͗̈̌̋̒̈́̄̋́̌͒̋͘͘͠͝ĕ̷̡̛͕̺͑́͐̇̆́̃̕͘n̶͖͌͊͗̌̈͐̋̎̓͛̿̓͛͐̕͝ ̶͕͓͕͈̭̼̘͙̓̌̊̉͐̒́̎́͂̔̀̈́̆͝ͅp̴̛͎̮͍̝̮͎̟͇̣̺̣̲͔̈́̄͑̈̽̆̈́̇͂̎l̶̛̳̱͓̮̳̘̣̗͕̋̍̽͊́͛̈́̀̓̔͂̈́̅͆̚͘̚a̵̫̻͑̃̊̆̓̂̃͘͝͠ÿ̶̹̮̜͚̩́͛͛͒̒̿̔̚͝ ̵̧͉̪̬̬̺͙̫͈͙̻̱̻̠͈̪̉̋̎̊͋̀̿̇̂̈͆̒̂̊́͜͝į̵̢̧̤̝̳̹̳͍̩̣̀͑͆̇͠t̴̰̦͚̯̦͖̣͖̪̗̣̘͈͕̫͎̑͋́͑͛̿̄̈́̄̅̈̋̚͜?̶̞̼͔̯̮͓̬̣̙̺̖̘̘͆͑͂̈́̓̑͐̀͒́"̴̨̛̭̣̞̰͔̗̥͔̯͎́̏͛̔͋̋̇͜
̷̫͖̝̝̬̘̗̭̝͎̮̠̩̪͎̦̱̿͆̿̏̍̔̃̈́̾̈́̓̈́͒́͝͝
̸̛̩̟̓̆͋͆̓͛̈́̀̀́̃̔"̶̛̰̭̪̒͂̽̍͛Ì̸̡̨̠̼̞͔̹̮̭̙̦̰̥̘̖̪̃́̎̆̃̏͘̕͜ ̴͓͈͔̺̪̤̉̋̐̆͆̿̃̀̀̋̈́̽̈́͘͠͝c̴̛̮͌͊́͒̒̋̉̋̔̀̐̔̈́͆͘̚͝ą̷̪͙̥͙̫̗̦̘̬͓̉̈́̋͂̀̈́̃̑͛͒̏͝͝n̴̖̱̻̬̟̞̪̪̯̜͛̃̋̐̊̉̕ ̴̡̼̭̑͛̓l̷̨͉͖̜̝̙͓̬̺̮̺̐̃̂̄̌̿̇̚͘ė̵̺͙͇͉̜̫͚͓̟̰̥̹͓̤̫̖̱̇͂̽͊̆͜à̶̡̡̱̙͇̈́̿̋̕͝ͅṙ̵̙̳͓̦̙̥̖̖͖̝͒͗̚ṇ̵͇͈̰̝͕͍͍̭̱̫̰̞͔̹̔̇̄̈́͑̕͜.̵̡̥̩̦͉̹͚̗̲͉̻͚͓̟͕̥͎̒̓̂́͐̆̅̿̀̋̐̇͊ͅ.̶̫͚̝̦͖̲͕̻̺͉̣̀̀͋͊̄"̷̝̯̼̜̺͉̫̿̄̌̎̔̀͋̃̉͐
̶̧̢̞̮̣̖̿̚͝
̶̛̲͉͓͎̖͆̋͌̀̈͊̋͂͂̇͘͘͘͝"̷͉͗́̔̏̑͒̽̒͌̐̍̈͑Ș̷͚͔̯̺̜̪͖̣̘͉̠̝̯̈́̑̓͌̓̎̈̀̒̊͋͂̈́̀̕̚͝ͅo̸̫͈̥̺̖͈̙̬͕̞͙̺̳̫̟̜͐̈́͒̃̊͊̏̆̿̎͘͝͝ ̷̦̈̔̋͐̒͐̀̃̈́̀̿y̶͕̲͇̯͉̟͚͉̦͔̬͚̫̬̭̩̦̯̅̀͌̓͐̃̑̿͒͗̀̚͘͠͝͝ȏ̷̧̇̍͊̊̿̃̒̄͋͂̀̃̚̕͝͠ͅu̶̧̖͖̣̮̤̭̫̠̪̩̱̐͜͝ ̵̡̢̰̬̲͙̱̼͚͍͎͈̙̫̞͕̇͂̐ͅc̶̢͓͕͈̱̗̪͔̯̩̎̈́̈́̈̉͆̽̿̉̿̽͂ͅa̶̛̛̘͕̪̗̰͊̄̈̾͒̅͗͑͋̉̀̓̓͐̈͜ͅn̵̡̞̮̭̜̳̥͕̲̱̱̣̽́̈́̈͛͒̕'̴̛̗̮̓͐͆͊̃̇͑̐̍͛̚ţ̶̨̢̞̣̣̖͈̝̥̻̖̖̂͑͜ͅ.̵̧̖̤̜̫̮͙̬̭̟̥̞̺͓͖̞̈́́̀̚ͅ.̴̙̉͌̀͐̄̊̎͗̿ ̴̦̤͇̜̻͚̱̝̇ ̷̤̱͉͎̬̟͍̓̀͆͌̈́̾̀̂̍̋̏͌̑̇̿͒͝͝Ị̴̢̧̗̜̦̘̥̺͉͖̽͐ ̶͍͔̯̬̯̙͎͚̟͕̈́͛̈́̀̑̐̉͊̒̊͜͝b̴̛͕̦̪͍̫̼̳̳̹̜̲̝͙̙͈̤̋̈̂̔͆́̀̄̏͒̈́̂̕͠e̴̠̜͖̺̖͚͇̳̗̹͉̻̥̎ͅţ̶̨̫͙̗̝̟̺̝͕͍̮̗̠̦̠̳̙̍̈́͊ ̵̨̡͇̗͙̺̟̫̀̌͂͐̄̋͌͜y̷̤̐̍̓̀̌͑͊͆̊͑̓̚̚͝͝o̵͕̠̥͚͕̣̮̍͆̈ͅu̵̥̱̪̩͇̦̝͂̅͊́̅͗̍̽̌̑͋͠'̶̢͚͕̫̟͔͍̲̯̪̟̳͖̘̪͋͜͜l̵̨̘̝̦̼̠͉̳͍͚̗̦͑̅͒͂̓̋̕̚͝l̸̢̡̡̺̦̩̮̮̫̟̠̦͕̓͑̾̍͑͗̓̐̈́̍̓̑͘̚͠ ̶̧̨͍͖̯͎̝̣̼̝̜̟̬̹̓̑̄̑̃͋ͅṡ̴̛̭͍̼̝̦̖̓̎̾̑̈́̈̄̀̒̎̊̕̚͝ǫ̸̢̡̖͚̫̮̟̮̞̺̝̬̳̌u̶̞̲̠̗̼̪̲̲͖͇̰̜̤̬̗̎͐͐̋͌́̈̏̅͋̋́̚ñ̶̼́͆̅̐̂̄̈́̽͘̚d̷̡̮̗̠̼̤̜̣̐͋̓ ̶͇̠̓̄̎͒̄̄̓̚͝ͅl̷̨͕̻̙̱̓͗̄́̅̀͠͝i̶̡̟͍̜̞͕͙̭̯̎̇̍̇̈͗̈́̎͒͆̋̔̐̏̈́k̵̢͓̲̻̱̝̲̩̗̣̻̝͎̀͛́͒̈́̎̃́͛̉̆͊̉͊̕ͅę̷̛͕͓̺̭͍͉̬̞͖̭͇̼̝̣̟͓͛͐͛̍̓̃̍̅̏̊͝ ̸̡̪̓̓́̂̉̐̈̌̈́̌͘͝ḁ̴̧̧̯͙̯̖̪̥̘̪̗̻̖̱̭̬̒́̾͐̃̑̿̑͋̌͋̊̊̃̕ ̴̺͉́̔͊̈́̈́̈́͌͝d̸̢͔̣̻͍͇̭̻͚͔̯̫͉̙̼͚̿̀̽̽̊̽̑͗̀̉̓͒̋̈́̍̚͜͜͝ṟ̶̤̬̜̭̞̃o̵̰̩̹̮̩̦̰̘̼̼̻̘̫̅̃̄̽̾̍͂̂̎̒ͅw̵̢̹͚̻͉̟͕̬̻̝̿͋͑̅̌͊̑̆̑̋̈́͝n̵̮̙͍̰̱̈̂̓̅͆̓̃̀͛̔̈́̊̒͘͝ͅę̵̛͈̰̻̤͎̤̘̪̱̖͍͔̝͖̌́̆͜ͅd̴̫͙͓̺̬̋̐̈̑̄̾̈́̆̔͛̿͘͝͝͠͠ ̶̡̨̺͈̒͆̿͋̂̓̽͛̓̐c̵̨͕̲͉͖͔̰̒̋̔̓̋́ą̴̧̧̯̞͇̦̠̤̙̺̞̥̹̼̙̱̘͋̀̒͂́̄͐͝͝͠t̶͍͍̥̻͙͉̠̳̫͉̐̎̔̈́͛͐͑͜͝.̵̧̨͇͍̻̣̱͓̙̲̣̺̟̪̬͈̟̺͆̇̌̐̈́̐͊̌͊͠"̸̮̮̀͊
̷̨̭̓̽̈́̇͋̋̿̓̿̽͆͌̚͠͠͠
̴̧̛͖̮͚͚̺̹̩̪̠͇̘̠̯̏́̈́̿̇̊͊͊̊͒̈́̅̀́͜͝͝"̸̢̪̭̏T̴̪̬͇̪̞̯͓̭̝͇̤͖̼̞̄͘a̷̖͈̗̹̔̍͗̈́͐́̈́̏͛͂͋̽̅̆̔̚͘̚k̴̢̛̑͊́̎̀̾͗̏̈̄̂̿̎̚e̸̡̨͕̗͖̟̬͎̭̞̞̝͆̒̂́̍̔̓̆͂̓͆̉̚͠͠ͅ ̶̧̛̫̬͓̽t̸̫̙͎̪͙̲͔̟̜̱̫̦͎̒̐͐̄̾̈́̑̈́͆̍͒̓̄h̷̨̤̮̬͚̣̟̫̖̺̻̼̪̯̀͑̂͑͠a̸̡̢̛͔̰̰̔̄̃̾̀͘t̸̨̡̛̙̻̪̤̥̙̩̹̳̓͐̓̈́̍̈́͑̎̔̾̌̕ ̴̡̞̭̋̀̇̍̄͘b̶̛̯̟̋̓̈́a̵̛͚͚̳̺͔̘̘̳͛̃̇̎͌͗̽̕̚̕͘ͅc̵̛͓̩̀͛̍̆̇́͆́̃͝ḱ̷̫͕̝͖̣̫̬̭̦̼̏̿̌̆̔͝ͅ,̸̝̪̼̤͎̙̥̱̣̜͙̘͙͕̘̦͋̉̈̽̍͋͒̅̊̇͘͠͝ ̶̧͎̳̜̥̰̣͙͈͍̖̝̤̬̱͚̰̔͑̀͌R̵̢͇̮͉͚̠̲͉͙̥̫̬̦̥̔̔́͐̚̚͘͜ͅḛ̴̡̢̟͔̼̹͓̲̜̜̫̟͍̲̮͊̃͘͜͠͝n̵̮̹̣̄͊̈͐͌͒̂͊̐̆͝ĥ̶̢̧̪̮̥͕͓͈̗̮̺̉̀͊̓̈́̆͌͑̎̈́̕̕o̵̡̡͕͙͆͘l̸̘̜̠͎̤̝̤͉͛̎̄̃͐͗̋̚͘͠͝d̶̢̧̡̺̝̫̺̼̩̱͙͑͂̌̅͜͝͝t̷̢̧̪̦̖̪̠͙̳̤͛͜͝!̷̪͓̪͓̭̭͕̗͉̠͉͈͊̐͒͊̂̅̆͒̒͌̈́̋̅͘͠͠ ̷̧̢̛̛̩̳̖͚͙̟̯̹̜̻̼͚̝͖̌̌̉͑͊͐̏̓̎͘͘͝͠ ̷̢͉̐̎͆̀̊̈́̒́̌́̌̋͗̎̐͝Ą̴̢͚̗̝̦̙̲̳̲̱̑̓̈̓͐̌͆͒̏͐͐̈̀͋͘͘͠͠ẗ̸̡̧̙̲̰͍̗̯̙̟̹̥̫͗̏̉ͅ ̷̤͍̙̦̦̩̣̟͚̺̟̖̞̌͛̎̃̔̄̑̒͗͠l̴̝͊̓̓̿̀̅̍̓̇̐̈́̐͒ͅę̴̢̜̱̳̝̂͒͌̽̄̇̒́̄͌̅͌̚̕ā̸͓̫̼̰̞̞͉̠̓͊͂̏̄̓̅̈́͜͝͝ͅs̴͚̝̗͓̩̘͎̰̈̄͌͠t̸̨̧̛͉̖̣͙̠̩͔͓̮̊̽̿͌̚ ̸̙̙̞̣͖͔͗̈̓̀̄̄̕Ì̸̛̛͐͌̉̆̾̎̋̊̀͊͒̀̀͘̚ͅ'̶̠͍̫̫͆m̵̭̤͈͇̬̹̐̓̑̈́́̒̆̏̅͛̐̈̀̇̚̕͝ ̸̛̹͔͚̫̑͗͑͗̔̔̔b̸̛͇̯͋̐̉̀̋͠ē̷͔̥̮̱͖̳̈́͗̄͘͝t̵̡̛̥̳̩͇̮̹͍̣̪̠̝̟̫͈̻̞̘͌͌̈͒̃͑͛̏͑̈͂͋̆t̴̢̫̹̺̯͕̟̟̤̪͈̪̯̙̭̀̏̏̃͜͝ę̶̢̛̯̲͇͖͈̝̮̳̙͚̟̟͔̺̥̤̄̔̍̆̏̀̾̆̎͋̚r̷̡̨̠̩̭͈̖̥̰̥̱̣̪̗͓͖̦͊͋̐̄͂̿̆̀̂ ̷̥̘̯̪͚̦̥̣͕̮̤̥̰͖̙̩̲̫̀͐͠t̸̨̳͇̰̗̰͇͍͖͔̭̥̩͊͆̈́̋͂̓̈́͋̀̽̄͒͘ͅh̴̢̞̝̘̥͙͓̱̗͖̳̺̟̟̫̩̾̈́̊͆̈́̅̾̔̽̒̈́͜â̶͍͕̜̓͐̊͐͘͝n̶͎̙̖̘̑̽̌̈́̋̍̈́͗͗͑̕͝͠ ̴̡̧̨̡̩͇̤̘̗̭̦̣̪̘̪̖̖̻̎́̓̃ȳ̷̧̝̳͓̲̜̜͉̟̏̀̈́͒̂̈̿o̸͙̻͔͚͖͈̝͈͓̲͉̤̙͇̭͓̽̄̔̏͆́u̵̢̨͍͇̗̘̭̻̪̪̮̰̼̟͊̐̍̄͑̚ͅr̶͔̬͋̇̍̀͆̈̄ ̵̨̫͔̝̳̫̤͂̄͛̑̍͗̚͝y̷͖̺̥̦͇̱͈̹̹̗͊̄̊͜o̴̧͉͔̱̮̩͇̰͙̺̤͖͌̋̂̃͐͌̽͘d̸͓͚̗͕̫̳̪͕̖̬̮͚͎̐͂̿͑̓̆̄̀͐̾̋̍͘̚͜͝e̷̠͌͋͛̈́̐͊̈́̋̚ĺ̴̡͕̤͚͈̥̝̟̰̼̖͚̗̀̎̍̈̃͌͌̈i̵̛̟̮̟̮̘̝͙͇͌̓̈́͛̌̊̀̓̿̾̓n̶̡̠͓̬̣̝̤͛͌̓̂g̶̢̡̢͇̦͈̫̺̹̭̬̩̫̯̜̯̎̌́̽̾̉͊̅͘.̴̨͍͈̗̗̙͓̟͖̫̗̞̩́̀̌͊̿̏̂̍̈̍͐̉̋͘͜͝͠͠"̷̡̂̎̿̈́̆̂̆̂̌̒͑̾̀̎̕͘͝
̴̛̙͆̏̆̑̐͂͑̕
̶̳̙̮͚̼̹̠̠̠̜̟̗̳̮̘͓͈͑́̈̊͒̍̐̚"̸̛͎̯͎̩͚͑́̽̍͐̽̍͂̏͌͝Ẇ̴̛͕͕̞͕͉͎̝̞̓̌̉͌͆̀͑͆h̷̢̡̡̨͙͓̖̙͔͎̹̔̀̈́̓͛̏͊̊͂̈͑̀̑̀̿͜͜͝͠͠ͅô̸̖̪̱̲̩͉ͅa̷̧̱̲͖̯̼͈̖͊͒̔ ̵̢̮͍̘̜͖͔̬̳̥̦̱̞͈̊̒͌̎̽̀͋͌̈̑͆̉n̶̛̛̖̯̺̘̘͕͈̟͇͔͕̾̏́ö̵͓͍̰̱̜͖̝̩̲̞̞̻́͌ͅw̷͖̳̟̲͍̦̦̫̖̝̬͋̈́̀̽́̚,̴̨̛̪̲̱̋̑͂̈́̆͂́̓͂̓̕͝ ̷̡̢̥̦͖̥̣͚̙̜̐͊̓̓̆̿̍̓̉̅̈́͗͋̆̉̅͝͠l̵̨̛̛̹̹̪̗̜̊̽̌̅̿̆̂̍̅̃̏̌͝͠͠͝i̵̼̩͊̀̇̍̏̂̕͝t̴̡̧̧̛̼̘͎͚͈̦̹͕͎̫̯̠͉́̾̏̈́̅̈́͊̒̐̀̽͘͘͝͝ͅͅt̶̛̟̹̟̩̝̘͔́̀̂͑̓ḻ̶͙̲̽̽͗͑̉̂͌̂̃͂͛͂́͂̎̕e̶̢̨͔̰͓̦͇̭͍̺̺͈̐̀͋͐̀͗̚ ̶͔̘̦̙̥͙̻̞̭̳̐͝ͅļ̵̧̫̗̫̖̬̬͕̥͎̱̙̂̆͘ͅä̶̢̛͓̩̪̩͍̪͉̻͍̰̬̗̫͖̻́̾̈̔͌̀͑̎̿́̋̂̉́̃͂͜͜d̶͚̦͓͉͖̗̩͓̜̠̯̄̀͜͠ẏ̵̡̧̝͎̞̻̮̣̖͎̔ͅͅ!̸̤̓́͋̽͗̓ ̶͍̳͎͗̉͂̈͛͌̏̾̇̑̉̀̀́̀̌̃̂ ̴̭̺͔̺̹͉͕͂̀̍͛͌͐̈́̅̓T̶͔́͊̈́̃̔̐͜h̵̛̘̗̟͎͈̣̳̤̋̿̕a̸̪̰̮̼̹̝̞̎̄̆̀͆̚t̷̙͈͘'̵̟̤̗̒͆̈́͠͝s̸̺͍̟̔̽̇͛̏̾͒͐̏̾̓̕̚ ̸̠̳̼̳̄̅̓̇́͂͛͐̎̏̒̌̀͗̿͊̀̕n̶̥̦̙͓̠̰̤͍̹̰̥͇̙̯͗̂̒̉͒͒̇͐͠ó̴̧͎̭̻̣̠͇͓̹͆̓̄̈́͠t̷̨̜̣̀̾̔̍̿̾͋̍̓̓̚ ̷̡̢̜̟̺̞̃͆̎̚v̸̧̭̗̠͎͗̎͗̑́̑̔͌́̄͜e̸̼̳̲͈̞̹̪͋͌̐̂̊̉́͘͜͝͝͝͝ͅr̵͙̱̟̲̜͖͂̍̓̽̚͠y̵̨̧̲̺̪̯̭̯̥̒͋̍͌̑ ̷̯̖̦̃̄̅͐͗͋̌̌͑̐̊̕ṇ̸̢̢̨̛̛͚̘̹̯̖́́͗̈́̃̆̀̍͌̈̒̚͘͠ͅͅí̷͇̺͎̤̱̙̦̲̈́̎͒̽́͝c̶̨̛͓̼̲̞̜̘͉̪̜͉̗̥͉̘̜̈́̃̌͑͊̈́̑̅̌͂͘ͅͅę̵̰̲͎͓̌̊̾̇̅͒̃̒͌̋̊͒̎͠.̷̛͔͈̟̱̘̖͍̳͍͔͍̿̍͆͐͆̋̓̎̈́̈̑̽̂̓ͅ ̷̬̈͒̔͘͠ ̶̡̛̫͈̹̲̭̥̻̦̩͓̼̫̤͇͈̙̍͜D̷̡̢͚͔̝̝̬̼̰̗̝̭̂͛͊̓̔̎͊̾̉̄̏͆̈́́͝͝ǫ̴͕̣͔̺̫̝̣̠̰̪̞͎͍̻̾̈́̋͆͒̄n̵̢̤̣͎͈͎͍̝̮͂̂̐̍̍̎͌̒̀̈͊̋̅̚'̸̡͍̪̭͓̲̖̘̯͚̼͚̗͖̂̒͛̉͊̔͂͝ẗ̸͓̣̞͚̦̈̅͂̃̋͑͐̀̈́͆̅̇͝͝ ̷̧̧̲̮̰͖̤͙̜̰̥̮͕̺͎̯̼͂́͒̾͆͛̐̎̎̕͜͝s̶̙̹͓͕͚̜̝̈́̔̿̓t̴͉̅͂͆ȉ̵̛̺̽̃̒̏̍̄́͠c̸̨̹̪̣̔͂́̌̈́͆͂̀͛k̸̡̭̜̦̰̠̟͓̖̣͈̆̽͋̌̕ ̵̨̧̙̭͇̪̺̮̭͙̠̮̝̩̀̀̄̊̋̏͐̋̅̂́̿͘̚ͅy̷͓͎̏͐̑̇̄̚̚͝o̶̖̫͖̭̫̦̙̳̰͙̠͎̗͆͛̀̐̈́̔́̄͠͝ͅu̵̢̡̩̥͔̝͍͔̳͔̹̥̘̰͚̔͋̌͂̆̎̅͝ͅͅr̴̨̞̦͓̥͕̻̺͓̥̜̻̆̿̽̌̃͂̓͛̂͗̃̐̎̂̚͠͝ͅ ̸̛̘̟̹̞̯̞͉͕̬͖͋͂͋̂̒̍̑͌͆̂̑̏̚͜͜ţ̶̠͔́̽͋͐̔̓̇͐̏́́͋̄̚͠͠͝͠o̶̞͙̺̬̎̓̅̑̀̏̓͑͒̽̃́̈̃̉ͅn̸̨̞̣̯̺̈́̔͒͋͐̓́͌̃͐͒̓̈́͆̅͘̚g̷̛̟͔̙̀̈́͂̒̒̿̈̊̌̈́͑̊̍̽͜͝͝u̷͚̹̼̮̤̳͎̮͔̇͑̑͜e̴̛͉̟̹̝̍̉̊̏̃̆̈͐̔͛̎̂̀̒͗̀͠ ̷̨̲͖̹̪̲͇͍̩͌͛̉͐͑̓̚͜͠õ̴̪̤͍̮̣͇͇̂̌̈́̓͆̈̾̈̌̒̕ṳ̷̞̰͇͎͇̗̯̈́͝͠t̶̢̳̰͓̝̰̝̘́̍͌͐̈́ ̴̢̡̺̗̰̻̩̱̜̟͈̲̥̗͉̘͉͌̈́̽͗̀̿́̅͒̿̌̓͑̇̄̈́̕̚͜ả̴̢̢͕̪̮͉̻͚͈͙͉́̒͋̓͘̚͘t̶̨̡͔̥̬̲̞͎̥̳̠̼̮̠̭̟̏͌́͜ ̵͕̯̦̹̲̈́̇̂͆̍̈͗m̸̨̛̞͕̘̪͛̓̀̽̀͂̐̊̽́̽͑͘͠é̴̡̢͉͚̳̟̞̣̞̪̥̬̈́͒̅̈.̵̣̜̜̍͑́̀͂̉͗̀̄̉̿͜.̴̛̹͙͆͋̎͋̊̚͝͝*̸̰̖͇̔͂̐̑͒̈̆̿͋͑͌̔̋͝s̶̡̢̜̣̮̜̬͉̣͖̑̎̾͛̄i̸̗͍̫̘̼͍̤̙̬͙͋̚g̴̢̪̥̺̻̮̜͔̫̬͎̯̏͊͂̈́͑͛h̶̡̫̠̗̼̩͉͖̼̭̜̰̯̭̣͕̰̗͑̑̕*̴̧͎͉̱̠̤̼̮̃̆̒͛̆̀͗͛̎͊́̈̃̕͘ͅ ̴͙̝͕͙̜̣̘̗͍̘̹͉̣͋͂̑͂̉̈́̋̌̔̋̕͝Ḱ̵̡̧̢͚̲͇̞̣̲̤̥̯̺̟̠̙̭̎̆̐͒̔́͂̀̈́̏̈͐́̓̕͜͝͠i̷̧̡͚͙̬̥̞̗̍d̴̰͕̂̓s̷̡̺͇̠͈̖̣̻̳͓̻͋̃̄ ̴̱͚͉̰͕̔̂͗̅͝ţ̸̡̛̗̲͓̠͎̗̮͂̋̋̓̆͂͆̀̈́̈́̐͋͘͘͜ͅh̸̢̢̤̟̪̜͕͉͓̳͇̙̯̤̽̓̈̈́̉̎̿͂̾̈́̊̄̀̚̚͘͘͠e̵̢̛̯͍̯̲͓̘̹̫͍͚͙̻̲͔̜̐̈́̀̉͆́̐͐̑̔̍͐̃̕͠͠ͅͅš̴̱̳̾̓̆̂̽̊̓̽̔̔͘̕͝e̴̳̖͕̅̌̉̓̈́̎̅̇̾͒̕͘͘͝ ̸͍̜͙̯̱̰̪̫͈͍̖͈͈̮̝͇̥̃̔̓͛̉͆͆̉̿̅͛̿̈͋̇͝͠d̵̡̡̛̛̫̟̲͕̥̪̫̖̣̳̖͉̤̪͌̂́̄̽́̈͗̈́͜ȧ̴̻̯̪̜͈̳̦̎̅͂͂̅͒́̆͋͊̋̎̈́̏̈́͜͝͠y̸̨̱̼̳̟̙̟͔̣̦̮̒͋̈́̒͘̚͜͜s̸̢̛̘̻̖̩̹͔̍̃͐̈̒̒̊͂̈̔̋͋͊͛̃͝"̵͈̤͇͈̖̠̺̠͈̰̮̥̙̙̟͉̝̑

 

 

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And if she'd stiffened after receiving the missive, stare towards the dojo they'd just left from --

"Tch..."

A dim look of confusion watched her hands graze the keyboard with some furious intensity.

NIGHT: oh
NIGHT: i'd just left
NIGHT: lmao
NIGHT: still mind if we head somewhere else?
NIGHT: i'll cover for your crystal

"Something wrong--"

"No," NIGHT breathed, fingers tapping on air as her eyes remained on the message, trying to decide on an adequate meeting point. The first was the worst for this sort of discussion. The eleventh was nice, but she wasn't too certain about her confidentiality there. Somewhere isolated, peaceful. Somewhere meaningful?

She glanced upwards, to the hooded figure still lost, watching her in silence. The player was quiet, too, for a beat. Then she admitted defeat in a voice all too sharp.

"A private meeting place."

The corners of her companion's lips were pulled back in shock.

"--What am I, Google?"

"I don't know." Had this been a conversation in any other context, it might've brought a smile to her own. "You tell me."

. . .

NIGHT: a walk on the beach?
NIGHT: f24
NIGHT: could fish if you wanted to

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"Huh?  What the heck is El ehm ay oh?"

Hirru couldn't remember anyone that he knew using that term before.  Though, he had learned a bit of message lingo as he was going along.  El oh el (lol) meant laugh out loud, or something like that.  He found it funny that they wanted to go to another floor though, and the hunter was tired of fishing up these pieces of clothing.  He sighed as he looked over at the newly fished up shirt that came up.  Was this river a trash pit for the ones living here?  Didn't Freyd's guild live here too?  What were they doing, letting this place get like this?

He sent a message back saying that he would be there shortly.  Hirru got up from the side of the pier, when another bite would nearly take the hunter's hook and the rod with it.  Quickly, the hunter would grab the rod and pull with all his might.  As the force of the pull ripped the thing out of the water, Hirru could see a pair of clothing that didn't seem to fit for combat, or anything really.

Something in the back of Hirru's mind kicked in, just as a scream came from the distance. 

Spoiler

T̴̪͔̬̺͌̂̑̓͌́̾̚r̸̻̫̥̐͘i̴̥͉̰̗̠͓̲͕̙͍̙̱̎̆̍̊͆͗̿̈̄̐̈́̕v̷̜͈̫͔̼̯̯̻͊̎̎̎̿̇̈̇́̋i̸̧̘̪̺̻͙̼͔̳͚̘̝͓͈̎̐͠͠ȃ̴̡̞̠̯̯̙́̓̈́n̶̙͉̑͗̍̊̐̾͌͛͛̃̓͊͑͠!̶̆̽̔̈́̔̔̊̒́́̀̚͜ ̴̨̱̗̆̀͂̇̾̕ ̶̢̘̫̘͇̩̃I̷̙̾̇̂͌́̅̎͗̉̎̄͊͠͝ǵ̵͚͚̖̙̜̜̪̲̖̼̘̏̂͌̂̅̃̅̈́̇̈̚͜͠n̷̝͖̯̖͕̣̭̟̝̐̊̆̒͋͊̆͜a̵̡̩̦͙̲͂͒̆̓͒̇͗̄̀͘l̴̤̩̞̯̟̳͌̓̏͋͗̒̊̐͝ô̷̘͇͙͓̖͉͒͋͗́̀͒̈́̇̿̐͑͜ͅ!̵̡̖͕̼̳̳̗͎̯̰̏̐̋ ̸̛̙̲͙̻̟͉̞͔͈͓̟͆̈́̃̄̿̕͠ ̷͚̼͚͋̒͂̒̾͠S̴̞̦͚͙̬̘̔̇͆̈́̎̆͗̀̓̚ţ̵̮̦̪̭̠̈́̊̂̈́̊̅́̑̇o̶̻̩͓͈͙̜͑̒̃̈̕̚͜͝͝͝p̴͕̼̖͉̱͖̖͚̲͍̞̗̈́ ̷͚̖͚͔̞̝̩͍̭͆̊͒́͌̇͂͆͒͊̆̄̕ͅm̸̞̫̘̩̟͇͎̱͍̝̄͒͗̍́͜ä̸̧̡̹̺͕̼̩̣̖͇͈̫́͆̎͗̐̍̄͛̑̃̊̚k̴̲̂̈̃̏͌́̐̕ĭ̷̧̻̞̙̙͈̣̩͕͍ͅn̴̨̧̖̞̩̺̰̲̤͇̅̔̽͂̿́ͅͅg̸͓͈̣̓̍̕ ̴̡͍͆͌̌͌͝ͅH̵̯͙͑͐̇͝i̷̧̥͙͎̹̣̪͕̦̘̩̓͆̊̌̈́̉̑̈́̀̉̑̚r̵̙̙̳̝̻̝̐͂̇̈́͂͑͂̋̀̈͑̀ṟ̴͇̥̳̱̺̘̙͎̘̯͓̗̀̽̎͆̀̚ư̷̜̖̲̦͈̤̩̻̳͌͌͐͐͠ ̸̨̬̥̟̥̪̯͈̘̠͓̤͈̥͑̔͐̉͐d̷̛͓̯̯̫͎͎̜̹̣̪͖̗͗͑̎̐̉̌͒̚͜͝o̷̡̥̘̤͉͙̟̪͍̱͐͑̓̉̀͆̆̊͗͒̕̕͝ͅ ̴̛͖̗̲͙̮̯̝́̏̃̄͂̓̽͋͗͊͂̚͝j̷͔̠̏́̈́̒́͑͐̒̌͂ū̷͎̺̀͝s̷̛͈̗͚̲̻̭̺͇̭̼̬̤͐̈̊̅͂͂̉̾͆́͝t̶̢̞̝̭͉̭̟̝͙͍̖͎̱͛̑̈́̄͜ ̸̢̺̻̮̲̟͚̋̆̀p̴̢̘̍̈́̈́̔̏́̓̎͋̏e̵̩̼̳̹͕̳̺̺̱͛̀̎̎̍̈́̐̀̀͘̚͜r̵̢̨̛͍̯͚͇͑̿͗̊̚̚͜ͅv̵̧͍͓̲͖̗̙̹̟͙͇̮͗̈̆̐̑͑͛̚͘͜͠e̶̯̪̠͎̙̦͍̠̰͛̍̚͜r̷̢̨͚̺͇̦͈͍̖͉̞͓͕̜͗̒̊̍͒t̸̥̳͇̞̺̦̺̗͕͒̚ͅë̶̢̧̼̰͚̻͉́͒̈́d̷̤͖̜̙̏͐͆̊̿͑̈́͐͘͘͝ ̸̛͖̻̜̠̪̼͚͉͈̠̼̝̽̿́̂͊̑̒̊͘͝͝t̸̨̧̠͚̺̩̠̪̼̾̑͐͂̆̿̓̏͘͘̚h̴̭̀̾̆̉͠i̸̦̺͕̖͑̒̽͘͘͠͝ń̵̢̧̘͖̯͈͈͍͗͌̄̒̔̆̈́͊̈͑͌͑͘ͅg̷̰̱̲̥̯̲̣͉͉̃̒̅́̑̉͋̀̉̀̏̈͝ͅͅs̶̡̲͎̭͎͙̙̘̜̻̫̯̙̏́̂̐̆̔͛̃̽̚!̵̼̠̞̙̟̠̲̟̖͙̹̯̒̔̌̑̽́̔̀͊̿̀̊͜͠͝ͅ"̵̖̳̱̱̘̉͆͐͛́̃̀̀͝͠͝
̸̙̼͇̳̭̭̖̠̫̗̍̓̽͗̽͗̏̚̕ͅ
̸̢̨̢̛̺̜̼͙̠̞̳̼̌̾͑̍͛̌͗"̶̨͎̲̘̖̗̽͋̒C̷͙͉̭̬͚͍̝͎̖͔͛͜o̶͕͇͍̺͕͌m̷̡̧̦̣͔͙̟̍́̓̾̉̂́́̔͊͘̚͝ȩ̷̖̺͈͓͍̩͙̞͗́̃̈́͗̉͐̂̔̍̐̕͜ ̸̧̧͙͚̫̩̖͖͖̳̞̰̀̓ȍ̵̳͙n̶̫̜̙̻̮̭̮̝̩̜͊͊̍͗͛̍̋͐̄̀̆͌̂̊ͅ,̴̧̨͔͕̃̄͜ͅ ̷̟͓͖̭͙̣̺̠̟̌V̸̢͈͖͓̮̲̬̰̰̗͔̖͛̎̊̓̇͐̇͜i̵̡̧̛̟̤͓͈͔̘̮̲̝̍̈́̃̔͋̔̀̚̚̚̚x̶̛̲͕̟͉̪̯̭͔̟͚͇̩̞̊́͂́!̶̨̛̹̘̲̤͓͍̱͇̠̜̏͆̉̽̽̂̐̀͘ͅ ̴̨̢̰͓̥̜̾͆͒̆͆͆ ̸̢̨̯̗̪̹̟̪̤͌Ť̴̨̨̼͔̝͉̘̟͈̦̈̓̍̈́̀́̎̚͝h̸̨͎̥͕̲̙̤̫̘͙͖̠̻͛̈́ͅe̸̞̦͔̬̟̦̹͇̔ ̴̨̲̼͍̻̼̤̻̥̘̬̆̈́̋̔̽̉͠͝k̵̨̡͎̳̭̯̥̤̜̆̔̌̕͘͘͝i̸̧̩͎̰̞͙̦̰̰̠̺̅̉̓͌̚d̴̹̳̏͝ ̷̟̳̮̯͇̞̐̒̌̂̒̍̀n̸̩̗̠̘̼̳̿̌̏͜e̸͉͕͑̿̈́̃̾͆̚͝e̸̢̨̧̺̠̩̙̯̅̆d̵̨̜̐̈͛́͗̏̌s̵̛̬͉͑̋͒́̑͌͒̏͐̉ ̷̖̗̜̌̿̓͊͋̿̆̌͘̕͝͝t̴̪̙̮̲͓̰͓̩̽̔̐͊̽̂̿͜ǫ̷̹̼̮̪̬̓͛͆͒͒̆͜ ̷̣̱̙͎͓̭̦̳͉̤̗̂̀̇̈́̓͜ͅṟ̶̛̦͎̈́̅̊̽̑̏̑̚͝e̷͓͋̈́̒̃̐͋͠l̸̙̈̅́̊̒̈́́̅͒͛̀̓̿e̵̺̜̎̃̿͒̀͊ą̴̬͎̣̰̼͍̿͗̐͊̈́̿̍͗̈͜r̵͈̥̻̻̮͇͍͙̙͎̝̆̓n̴̢̢̡̲͍̜̠̱̺̘̥͕̞͔̾͐̃̽̊̐̅͗̇̂̆͘͝ ̸̮̦͖͔̰͕̟͒͑̇͋͝h̷̡̢̬̰̭͎͍̞̻̪̓̍̒͒̑͗̕ȯ̷̳̭͐̇̄̏̓̑̕͜͝ẃ̸̛̠͑͒̔̂̇̋͆̔̆͊̌̔ ̶̛̮͇̟͋̒͊̓̀͊̍͊́͝t̸͎͇̹͎̥͖̦̓͗̈̿̓̂́̃̀̕͝ó̵̤̩͇̗̿͐͑̃̎̾́̂̌̓̚ ̶̧̠̻͆̍́̄̾͐͒̃̒̓̀̅̍b̷̡͍͖̩͉̼̼̦̳̃͒̆̋̀̃̏̀͑̄́̚̚͝ě̶͈͓̽̎ͅ ̷̡̭͕͕̬̞͍̭͔̻̟͂̑̓ͅa̷̡̖̤̟̱̒́̀̉͌̒͛̕ ̶̢̺̥̳̮̘͇̹͈̌͒́̀̽̚ͅm̷̗͓̺͉̻̪̬̏̐ͅa̴̺̟͓͙͉̥͗̌̃̒̒̎̈́͋̀̚͝ṋ̵̢̧̛͎̭̖͚̩̼̩͚͆̄́͗̊̀͋͂̕.̸͚͔͖͕̹̱͉͗͛͜͝ͅ.̵̡̼͇͙̲̳̙̼̗̠̮̖̖̾̋͜.̴͔̀̍̑̿̔̆͒͂͆͘͘͝*̶̛͉̮̽̊̆̌͒͊̑͜t̷̢̜͒̆̓̓̉̅̆̃̾̉̅̕͜͠h̴̙̯̻͈̼̼̤̖͇̳͓͆̓̀ư̵̫̗̽̾̄̿̃͐̊̾̀̚͜͜͝ṅ̸͎̳͚̦̺̮͔̖͉̓́̆ḵ̵̡̭̫̜̞͐̎̓̊͑̾͘͠*̶̢̮͙̦̬̰̜̝̻̣̟̼͍̝͋̕͠ ̴̢̝̺̼͔̉̉͜O̸̡͖͎̜̞̤̜̱̙̻̚͜͝W̸͔̟͚̻̹̘̹̲̊͊̎̽̈́̂͒͂̿̕Ẁ̴̤͈̤̼͓͕̓!̷̦̯̪͙͇̖̩͐̒́̒!̸̡̢͇̞̲̜͚͉́̊͌̑̓͋͒̂́̀̈́̕͝͝"̷̧̟͚̰̜͌̓
̵̡̡̛͖̮͓͓̟̮͕͎̹̎̉̿̃͜͝
̶̨̖͖̻́̌̃̒̓͝"̵͓̦̜͓̘̯̠̲̐̎͑̆́̆̆̒̉̉̏͌͘͜͠Y̵͙̏̌͋̅͝ê̶͍̏̓̓̀̓͛͝͠a̶͍̋̄̒̒̾͐͌́̀̏̚h̶̜̲̹̺̻̏͊͌̋̉̈́͂̐̀̓̑̐͘͝,̶̦͔̻̺̫̪̥͗͛̈͑́͂͒́̕͜͝͠͝ ̴̥̼̀͌̋̐͆̌̔͜V̷̼͊͋͝ḯ̵̤̮͈͌͑̑̾͑̒͛̾̓x̶̱̑̉̈̿̅̒̈̑͆͂͗̋̇.̴̨͉̎̆͋̈́̂̍͘̚͜͠ ̵̛̘̝̹̼͓̬̪̥̆͛̆̈̈͆͑͋̃͘ ̷̞̝͑͋͐̆̔́͋̕͝͝H̵̬̭͕̬̔́̓͂́į̷̨̛̘͚̪͕͎̯͔͕͉̞͎̆̿̽͑r̷͎̝̥͔̣̰̲̺̘̲̖͌̂̇̿̆͗̒́̈͋̋̄͘͝r̷̛͍͚͖̪͔̘̬͎̪̯̱͒̉͛͊͂͆̆́ư̴̞̠̹̬̳̤̪̬͈̲̟̐̋͋͑̿̅̆̆͒̀̏̔̚ ̶̨̞̲̩͚̲̘̇̏̓i̸̡̢̻̳͖̖͚̰͍͙̘̊̍̊̑̓̑͐̕s̶̠̳͕͉̮͐͊͋̏̐̂̍̈́̎͑̈́̕͘͝ ̸̛͍̥̖̱͖̣͙̮̬̝͙̘̋͆̽͗́̈́̔̚s̶̛͇̀̒̌̈́̓̆̕̕͘͜t̸̨̖͍̙͔̹̭͑̄̌̂̿̄̇̈́̆̚̚i̵̜̖̖̠̘̓̔ĺ̶̨̛̰͙̯͐ľ̸̹̀̀͋̀͒̌̍̈́ ̷͖͖̂̾̇̽͋̄r̴̳͔̞̥̜̺̺̩̯̞͛̈́̂͌͊̽̔͒̀̉͝ę̷̧̡͈̰͓̥̱̯̙͉̤͍͑̍̈́̈́̍ľ̶̠̱͖̙͔̥͎̹̘̘̪̻͂̋̽̕͝ḝ̴̨̘̰̥̩̣̯̻̟͚̂́͌̈́̍͐̚͜͜a̵̯͙͔̽̃͌̔̊̽̓̈́͝͝r̸̭̭̭̯̩̺͙̝̙̆̍̄̈́n̷͎͈̘͇̝̭̖̗̂͋̏̂̎ỉ̵̢̲̟͕̳̣̖͒̇̏̚ͅn̶̛̼͖͈̖͚̺̱̟̭͔̾͋̄̌͗̔̆̓̚͘ͅg̸̥̩͗͆̀͑͘ͅ ̷̨̛̤͖̦͔̩̭̠̺̮̟͒̀̍̊̇̎͊h̴͇͚̗͇̖̤͙̞̙̖͆͆̽̎͐͂͠ơ̶̦͙̰͎͒̈́́̆͋̔̇̿͘w̴͈͖͊̓̓̊̿̓̂̿̿ ̶̡̜̝͇̫̝̠̬̲̀̇͑̐̀̍͊͠ţ̸̡̧̤̩̻͓̬̩͔̘̙̠́͛̄͜ǫ̸̫̙̩̩̖̝͎̩̭͉͔̲͛̔̊̀̈́͊͐̾̄̏̿͆̚̕ͅ ̴̢͎̻̭͕̙̼̰̱̮̀͗̑̌̊͑͂́͝ḷ̷̥̫̖͖̗̦͈͑͌̍̓͂͒̌͝͝ͅi̴̡̧̼͍̼̻͉̼̺̲͉̍̓̀̐͛͌͊̕v̵͎̬̫̹͔̙̹͚͓̯̟͎̖̀̑͊̊̂͂̉̍̃̈̃͊͊e̵̡̫͈̹̗̩̩̳̭̣̯͈̿̀̾͛̄̽̀̾̍̈́̕͝.̷̛̝̖̞̭̱͗͗͑̍̏̃͊͑͑͐̀̀͝ ̴̨̛͔̎̾̑͘ ̷̛͇̀̽͑͐̒͒̓Ḿ̸̗́̾̇͐̀͊ȧ̴̧̛̙̥͓͍͈͐̽̿̍͆̿̌̀̂y̶̨͔͍̆͗̑͌̄͌͠b̷̲̪̥͚̱̝̀͛̈̾͗͋͑͆͆̋͘͠͝ě̶̼̹͖̬͔̳̟̯̪͈̓̄̈́̋̔̽̌̿͐͘͠ͅ,̶̪̃͛̿̌́̓ ̶̟͍̰͖̳̟̝̀͆̾̀̋̈́î̴̢̧̱̪̦͔̖̻̘̫͎̣̏̄͒͜f̵͖͍̳̖̻͚̻̻̯̒̐̃̄͑̕͘̚͜͜ ̸͍̥̤̦͋́̓̾̉̀̇̈́̒̅͂̚͘ḧ̸̞̯̳͛͆̑́͠e̸͙̤̎̈͝ ̵̡̟̤̬͓͇̦̥̲̠̟͗̿̈́̔̈̎̒̎̕͜͝ͅĝ̸͙͌́͋̍͑͜e̸̡̖̪̤͙̮̒̀̄̈́̂̈̈̾̃̉̑̀͠t̷͖̩̋̐͆̀̎͆̀̓͌̍̃̀ś̸̱̣̰̲̓̑ ̸̧̪͉̬͎͇̼͇͕̇̈̕̚ã̴̡͕̼̰̱̱̱̱͎͚̿̾̎̍̈ ̷̫̯̟͕͍͉͖͓̘͍̭̮͈̈l̵̞̺̩̻̜͓͔̮͆̎̒͆̑́̽͜o̴̧̩̅̉͠a̶̧̧̢͖̝͙͚̺̭̠͎͈̮͍̿̔̓̈́͐̿͋̈́͝d̶̫̜̖̽̅̍̌̿͆͋̿͂̄̑͘͘͝ ̶̛̘̭̼͔̲̣̠̠͇̑̿͂͛́͐͒͗̈́̉o̶̧͕̺͈̤͉̜̤̫͙̻̞̍̍̌͂̏̀̍͘͜͝ͅf̶̪̂̑̊͝.̷̡͇̣̫̱͚̪͈̿̀̓̔̀̃̎̾͜͝.̸̛̞̯́͂́̅ ̸͔̑̿̅̃͛̊̍͐̇̕͝*̶̧̡̹̞̦͖̗̰̖̮̗̳̖̝̆͆̾̉̇̈̊̊͌͆̄̋͝͠t̷͉̤̖̼̥͈́͒̾̐̏̇͘͝ḫ̵̯͖̟̜̲͎̭͊͑͐͗̾͒̏̀͌̍͋̆̕͝ṷ̴͉͗͐͐̽͑̈́̇̊͆̂̚͝n̸̨̮͇͔̭͖͙̣̦̪͇̰͈̔͛͑̈́k̷̡̰̦̦̠̘̳̘̥̥̟̞̯̘͐̍̋͗̅̉̓̎̈͗͛̔*̴̞̘̮̻̒̿̇̇͛̑P̵̢̧̧̨̯̗̘͚̜̹̩͓̣͚͒̏̿̚̚̚O̵̧̺̲͖̤̤͘̚W̶̢̪̜̪̹͇̙͈̗̯̳̣̞̋̊̈͒̇̔̈̈́͌̿̍̈́͝͝*̶̲͂̒̉ ̶̨̧̧̥̞͎̼̥̣͙̗͚̊́͌͒̌̅̃̓̍̎̈́̿͂͜͜͝A̵͍̮͍͔̯̰̖͔̪͆̋̉̂a̵̢̧͈̰̖̩̬̩̪̤̪͇͖̅͌̽̈́̆̾́̋͒͝͠c̷̢̝̭̯̜̪̈͗͂̃̈́̃͒͌͝k̴͓̣̤̱̮͕̲̰̣̳̰͈̹̆̆̈́̿́͗͗͛̇̊̓̚!̷̡̤̜̈́̅̐̏"̶͖̀̏
̴̢̢͕͙͙̰̞̙́̈͗͋̀̿͂̋͌̓
̷̨̠̟̊͛͐͌̃̈́̔"̶͉̝̜͉͕̫̈̿͒́͊̍̕͠Ḧ̴̖̰̺̫̙̋́õ̷̦̥w̵͓̾̏̽̾̆́̐̂̈̈́͘͠ ̴̣̫̣̘̒̄̄͑̄̈́̍̀̽̋͘̕c̸̰̜̊̃͘ǫ̶͓͓̝̳̯͈̳̣̦̫̯̮͇̓͑̉͂̈́́͑̏̅͊͊͗͠ḿ̴̧͉̥̝̦̫͔͔̠͇̈́͑̉̒̀̋͑̆̔̕͝͝è̷̡͈͕̬͉̱̖̻̗̰̜̐͊̋ͅ ̸̨̰̥́̒̇̈́̑̈͋̾̓́͊̐̆̈H̷̨̺̩̲̠͋͐͜î̸͎̞̙̯͓͓̼̟̙̠̖͙͛̚ͅr̵͕̅̈́̌̕͜ŗ̵̝̤͚̼͕̟̟̪̭̼͎̰̪̋̈́̂̓̍̊̿̑͊͛u̸̡̳̝͙͕͍̦̳̝̹͈̱̞̳̿̿͗͒̀̇̐͛̇̚̚̕͠ ̷̡̖͕͓̫̯̾̃̓ͅd̴̢̢̨͔̭͎̰͓͚̖̖͗́͠ͅi̵̗̘̮̲̪̞̓̀͛d̶̦̲͐̇͂̿̑̓̏̌͝͝n̸͍̲̙̻̎̏̉̊̐̎͝'̴̢̧͎͇̭͉͓̻̰̼͎̪͌̐̂̈́̑̒̂́̚̚ẗ̸̛̩͈͖̰͉̞͉̤̄̅ ̶̡̖͈̭̳͓͖̥̻̓̑͊̊͛́̆͌̿̏̈́͌͠g̶͙̼̞̼̃̂͒̒͝é̷̢̧̯͈͖͉͉̣̱̞̩͈̭͌̏̈́͌̓̃̆͆ͅt̸̙̮̱͎̹̥̥̙̠̦̝̩͕̹̓͝ ̸̡̘͕̰͎̳́̂̂́́̔̃̈́à̵͇̗̞ň̶͖̜̦͙̝͕͕̮̺̋ͅẙ̵̢̪͕̳͔̳̠̻͇̇̎̎́͛̀́̋͋͗̈̕͠ț̶̳͚̼̟̠̳̰͚̰̟̩͔̈̽̌̆́̕͠ͅh̶̛̪͍̳̤͕̫͈͔̍́̓̈̔͑͘͘̚i̶̧̧̫̥̗̲̹͔͍͍͉͍̖̤͑̈́͌̂́̿̎̑͛̔͝n̸̡̛̛̖͕̰̩͓͐͊̀͒̂̕͝ģ̷̳̼͈̇̒̽̀̏́͝?̷̡̥̳̤̆͛̊̑͝"̵̨̼̗̹̅̓̈̚͘͝
̵̯͇̝͓̔̔̂̈̊͆͘̕͘͝
̶̨̞͕̫̭̹̖̯̋̌̔̐͊̌̎͒̅̓͆̔͘̚ͅ"̴̘̊̉̃̊̄̈̌͆͋͘H̴̪̓́͋̋̔̽̾͋̑͗̉͐̚ë̶̛͕̫̺̝̍́̊̒͊͂̍̚̕͝'̷̡͈̥̺͎̙̺͔̗̙͔̑͐͘l̵̡̧̛̹͉̳͈͖͒͋̾̌̌͐̔̆̐̌͌͜l̸̜̲̦͓͓͚͔̖͇͊͝ͅ ̷̡̩͚̌͛̓̿g̶͚̫̘̳̮̻̹͍͋̑̽̈́̓̈́̑̑͛͆́̋͠͝ė̶̢̙͉̮̻͖̮͇̰̀͐̃̉͛͋̈̕͜͝t̴̼̯́̂̑̄̓ ̴̘̥̬̞̻͙̤̭̭͖̌͒h̷̖̜̜̫̻̰̉̑̑͆̈́̆̾̏i̴͖͔͈͕͙̘̭̣͝s̴̙̳͕͔̣͇͕͚̜̙͔͍̥̿̀̃̋̅̐̀͒͗̆̽̚͝͝ͅ,̵͓̂̐̈́̍͆̔́͘ ̵̜̘͙͆̽̂̀͝ͅb̶̡̨̰̭̮͎̻̗͕̲̽͊͌͆̿͊͗̆̎̇̑͘͠ͅu̶͖͌̿̀̇̏̀̇͝͝͝t̷̢͇̭̹̰̳̹̬͕́̈͋͜ ̶͕̳̫̖̳͚̹̪̻̯̈́̀̔̀̆͌͑͐̃̑̋̕͘f̷̧͔̰̲̜̖̗̺̳́̐̈́̕i̴̦̗̎̅̊̂̊r̶̨̛͔̫͓͙̯̤̤̘̤̣̞͋̈́̀͗́̑͛̊̽͐̂s̴̢̘̹̣̰̖̳̉̿̇t̶̲̗̺̳̥͎̞̤̞̪͚̍͒̓͘ ̶̰͔̪̓̈̈́ḩ̶̧̧̯̰͚͔̩͇̬̞̊̀̈͂͝ͅe̵̝̗̙̭͇͉͑̾͌̄̏̐͊͒̃͠ ̴̞͈͖̮̞̞̝̦̮͉̙̜͓̝̍͊́̀͌͊͊̚ň̴̖͖̩̮̠̜̹̼̑́̎́͑̆̂͝e̴̠̱͎͙̣̝͊͋͝ę̷̢̛͓͕͍̻̝͎̓͂̈́̅̏̔̚ḑ̵̡̦͔̙̬͙̙̼̅̓̅̕ŝ̷̢̧̛̼̰̳̠͙̘̯̝̻͛̋̅̒̋̊̚͘͜͝ ̴̢̨̜̗̗̰̯̤͇̰́̔͋͆́̚͠t̷̛͕̿̈́̌̉ȱ̴̢̘̥͔͇̺̤̙̖͚̻̘̖̍̓̿͋̐̒̋̒̂̇̕͝ͅ ̵̙̳̟́͌̉k̴̪͌̑̊̆̀̏͛́͂̏̆͝ṅ̵̥̬͎͎͕̅̃̔̓̓̅͒̚ö̷̜̯̭̙̹́̐͊w̶̺̼̝̦̪͇̪͐́͌̌̿͜͝ͅ ̷̪̗̹͊̅́͘w̶̛̺̲͒́̿̋̏͒̉͆͝h̷͚̬̅͊̈́͐̑â̵̧͕̺̬̳͆̿̈́̓͂͐̔͜͝͝ţ̴̡͚͖̮̭̎̇̍͊̉ͅ ̵̨̨̭͇͖͇̭̯͓̻̝̏̌̊h̶̡͎͉͚̼̜̰̿͋͌̌̏̾̈͗ͅa̴͇͍̝̰̹̝̔̈́̌̎͊̆̋̽̅͊p̴̧̬͉̪̜̣̥̦̑̃̄́͌̒͆͗̑̋̏͘͜͝p̶̨͔͈̙͚͕̅é̵̢̲̮͙̯̫̳̞̟̝̖̹̓͒͛̈́͆͊n̸̡̜͕̏ş̶̼̳̐̏͒̂̾͋̊͘ ̶͕̜̭̖̝͓͉̼̱͍̗̤̣̀̿w̸̩̭̦͝h̴̨̨̖̪̩̜̖͕̯̓̈̉́̾e̶̡̢̝͇̰̫̠̱̜͆͆̄̀̂̂́̿̇n̸̨̪͇̮̻̖͖̟̖̒̈́̆̔͘̕ ̶̡̧͕̘̝̗̹̮̲̝͒͛͝y̷̘̥͙̙̿̒̿̊o̸̧͓̗͔̪̣̬̘͐͒̅̍͌̑̆̃̓̒͘͘͠͝u̵̧̥̜̺̣̒͂͌͗̕͝ ̴̧̡̤̣̰̤͎̰̺̤͚̹̈̈́d̴̡̧̳͇̭̰̳̣̟̯̰̺͌̓o̵̤̯̖̙̺̟̐ ̴̱̪̗͇̣̟̻̫̪̺̄͋̎̈́s̴̢̟͔̥̣͕͈̞̫͍̯̓͂̒́̆̀́̑̏̋͘͠ọ̸̣̲̺͖̱̰̩̯̖̳͈̀̊̿̄͋̾͊͒̈́́͜m̶̛̠͔̺͖̦͙̖̱̅̉͐̀̀͋͜͜͠ẽ̴̡̪̼̹͇̠̘̣͖t̷̥̘̖̣͚͔̜̼̤͔͆̂͌̐̇́̏͘̕͜ḧ̵̨̡̦̦̞̗͉̙͔́̾̈̎̈́͆̒̄͝i̸̡̧̦̭͕̯̟̖͛̉͆̔͒͛̊̋̈̈͊ň̸̮̤̫̩̗̆̒̓̇̋͗͆̄͐͆͜g̵̯̬̞̤͇̗̩͖̻̦̪̞̈́ͅ ̶̨̡̢̠̺͚̤̗̝̩͍̙͕̄̊̏̽̓͊ĺ̶̪̹̟͎̯̼̽͂͑͊́̌̉̀̎͠ͅĩ̵͕̪̣̱̪̩͚̦̘̻̓͑͜ḵ̷̥̠͔̠̲̝͗̀́̋͌̈́̉̊̑̀̕͘͜ȩ̸̧̣̻͎͇̬̟̖̞̙̮̮̄̆͌̿̽͂̽̑̚ ̴̢̨̝̘̥̥̲̣͓͍̲̙̟̄̈́̒̄͐t̷̡̫̘̙̜̗̲̽͊͘ḩ̴̢̧͇̣͉̹̪̜͚̬̉̒̀̉̊́͆͊ă̵̫ţ̶͔̲̪̟̜͔̪̿̄̊̐͌͐̇̾̚̚̚͝.̸̗̼̙̮̗̘̗͈͈̟̀͝"̷̮͔̣̙͕̙̊̉̔̽͂͒̚͝
̶̧̛̩̗͒̍͆̉̑̽̒͆̈͋̋̊̕
̴̹͙̼̌̅̊̑̒͛̈͝"̶̡̪̘̠̹̼͍́̿̽͋Ş̸̨̭͔̺͈̣͒͆̎͝o̷̡̩̜̟̊͘͜͜ṙ̶̡̡̼̲̫̻̋̆͋́̉̈́͑̔̆̓̀͘r̸̗̤̜̪̗͕̮̤̠̗͕̩͇̆͛͜͝y̷̹̘̮̝͒͊͑̉̂͂̇͐͠.̷̢̙̰̱͖̞̇̐́͒̀̄̚͜.̵̧̤̤̳͙̙̤͙͂͐̎̍̈́͆̔.̵̧̙̖̖̻͙͐̏̇͜͝ ̶̧̭̣̘̣̘̈́̎̾̎̉͛̀̾̒̂͑̎̎͝V̴̠͈̼̦͖̟̱̟̮̯͛̽̈́̉̋̕͜ì̴͉̟͊̈̀̅̓̈̍̅͝x̶̧̢̛̣̣͗͐͐̈́͠.̵͖͉͆͐̉̚.̷̛̳̘̫̣̅́̂͂̄̀̌̅̇̈́̕͠.̶̨̼͈͉̺͓͈͖̲̯̳͚̃̏͋̔̌̂̔͊̚"̴̛͉͕̠̝̰̦̓̈͒
̷̣̤̂̒̃̇̑̽̑̒̇̉̔͝͠͝
̷̨̘̪͖̠̼͉̪̖̲̟̲͑̿"̴̛̛̦̤̳̥͙̖̘̯͊̇̒͂́̑͛̏͜͜I̵̧̤̘͓̹̿̊̈́͐͑͂̍͌͌͠t̴̢̧̹̯̘̩̝̹͙̙̂̿̀̄̓̍̃̅̈̊̕'̴̢̡̝̪̘̻̯͚͕͌̈́͛̃̀̆́͘s̴̢̨̨̛̛̩̫͓̳̳̗̲̬̱͇͚̀́̉̎̎͗̍̓ ̴̘̹̲̹̩͔͓̈́̎̋͆͜ͅͅä̷̧̡̡͉̩̤̭̗͉̖͙̹̭́̈́͒̃̄͗̊̔̒͘l̸̗̼͊͑̐́̈́̇̑r̸̮͕͈̼͚̫̒î̶̧͉͗̅̎̽̀g̸͖̦̦͈̙͓̩͕̼̐̍͐́̍̔̀͒̄̕h̴̨̧̨͙̰̹̞͙͈̮̥͔̗͓̅̒̽̾̾̓̈́̚t̶̢̮̝̻̼͕͙͘͘,̵̢̛̠̪̱̗̳̩̞͕̘̜̯̫̒͗̌̔̈͊͊̇̏̑̏̌͝ ̴̭͖̬͌̀H̴̢̳̣̜̗̩͙̞̞͈͂͌̅̔̑͆̋͐̑̈́̓͋͜i̵͚͝r̸̗̣̒̀̂̋͛͗̒̓̂̂ŗ̵̙̞͙͖̮͙͉̫̳͎͎̓͜u̵̢̨̡̟̫̪̤̺̫̦̍̍͊̈́͜.̴̢̬̟̱͇̫̦̞͕̯̲̬̿ͅ ̴̛̻̠̜̥̐̎̿͆̓̋̈́̅̕͘̚͝ ̷͔̠͈̰͈͈̄̓̊̀̑̆͝͝͝ͅJ̷̨̖͖̊́̏͛́̄̽̅u̵͙̗͎̭̩̮̜̫̻͈͚̤̝͆͊̈́ͅs̷̯̖͚̉͋̏͒̾̎̌́̋̅́͝t̶̰̼̙͈̺̙̺̮͕͍̤͍̕ ̶͕̱͇̝̼̩͉̐͐͑̎̋̔̔̌̿͆̽͠͝d̸̛͚̗̳̿̇̅͗̃͐͊͑̍̓͘̕o̵̪̰̻̫̪̱̞̗̜̽̿̔̂̓̋̾̓̾͛͝n̴̛̮̳͕̝̫̯̑̽̈́̾̈͒̅̋̇̏̈́̿̒͜'̸̡̰͎͔̈͒ţ̴̡̨̳͖̞̖̤̬̦̺̃̈́ ̴̛̲̳̻̠̥̪̫̯̎́̌́͂́̀̇̌͌d̷͈̔̈́o̵̤͌̿͆̿̓̽̚͜͝ ̷̢̘̦̫̋̽̍̈́̂̐͌͐̄̍͛͘t̴̛̥̻̞̪̘͖͇͔̙̩̓̿͘ͅḩ̶̲̟͇̼̲̱̙̤̰̙̞̪̍̍͛́̐̏́̈̽̌̾̽͜͝â̷̡̢̢͕̱̻̬̬͕̥͉͙̜̋͜t̷̪̪̀́͂̃̉̆͋̓̿́͠ ̵̼͍̘̩͕̙͚͌̀͑͒̀͆̌͂̄͂̀̚͘ã̸̧̨̢̧͈̤̩̻̭̺͓͖̀́̊̆̐͝ǵ̵͖̺̭̓̐̂͂̈́͝͠a̴̰̱̠̤͙̿̉͛̽̉̓̈i̷̡͈̽̌̔͆̅́̉̀̏̽̕͜͝n̵̹̣̽͒͌͋͛͂̏,̴̢͉͎͍͍͆̿̀̆̎̇͘͝ ̵̧̨̡͚̞̥̬̺͉̭̹̱̞̺̔̂͑́͒͝b̷̧̢̬͕͓͎̥̝́̿͒̽̒̇̐̈̑̋͊̓͘u̶̧̬͇̲̬̜̰̝͖͈̩̗͊́̾̏̾̇̇̾̑̐̒̚͝͠t̴̖̑̿̓̅̅̋́̐̽́̾͠ ̴̰͚̻͍̪̤̆͂̊̔͑̓̄́̊́͊̅̿͝İ̵̪̭̝̜̫̟̬̬͓͔̈͒͂̃́ͅ ̸̧̜̾͑̈̕s̴̗̯̻̥̥̑̎̌̾̉̊̊t̸̛̬̊͂̇̓̄̋͂̇̉̈͘͠ị̷̡̧̰̤͈̳̳͓͉͍̱̳̭̿͊̑́̀̈́̑̀̾̕͠ļ̸͙͓̰̗̱̝̮͍͕̮̰̱̟̔͌̃̔̍͛̏͂͠͠l̶̢̘̃ ̶̨̡̢̦͎̯͚̞͈͎̻̠̈́͌͆͊̄͛͛̔͘ḧ̵̰̖͇͔̫̻̫̤́̈́̂a̶̡̻̹̲͍̫̲̝̞̱̫̗̟̅̒͆́̏̓̍̌̒́v̶̡͇̘̪̥̰̼͌́ḝ̸̨̨̜̳͍͈̻̈̒̀̑̈́̉͋̃̓ ̵̲͍̼̦͖͙͎͓̰͎̤̭̇͌̆̀̄̕͝t̴͎͍̠̞̙̹͇͐̏̃́̅̀͗̕͝ö̵̮̮͇̗̹͇͇͇̯̼̟̟́̀̂̄ ̶̢͉̯̬̜͍͔̼̈́̀͂̄́̓͑̚p̷̥͑̅͌̋ư̸̛͇̱̘͗͑̌̀̓̈́̿̌̃̿̽͠n̸̛͈̖͔̯̬̟̾̅̋́̈́̅́̋̎̕i̵̧̥̩͇̮̬̭͍̲̫̺̫̊͜ͅs̸̼̹̰̯̟͋̾́̀̃́͠͠h̸̬̤͚̣̗͆͜ͅ ̶͈̆͒̇̄̊̈́̓͐̄̌͝͠y̵̛̳̟͙̠͓̩̥̲͒̓̽͋͐̈̉͌͆̅͊̈́̕ͅo̷̜̼͐̍̈̀́͆͋͂̐͆͛̍͠ǔ̵̧̝̲̗͓̞̞͈͈̒͐̂̎̀͑̈̔̾́͑̕͜.̷̧̛̄̉̈́̂ ̸̨͓̙͈̹̦͚̹͙̉͒͂͊̀͊̀͆̈͗̚ ̷̧̞̜̯̜͔͔͓͈̘̹͙̄̿̏͒̈̇͌̿̇̒̆̕͜X̸̠͚͐́̌̿͋͊̍̈́̎͝͝ͅV̴̡̝͚̱̉͒͊͂͗̈́͆͐̏͛̎́̄͑!̴̳͔̮̬͓̄̈́͒͑͗͊͛̄̎̓͗͘͝͝"̸̨̧̗̤͇̦͔̙̗̦͛̓͘
̸͔̖̠̖̱͇̤̞̠̯̾̒͆̈͘̚
̵̧̛̠̃̀̽͌͑̀̍̄̚"̵͍̅͊̆̅̐̄̌̓̿͂̊͝.̵̢̢̡̛̻͈̙̹͔̤̐̽̒̈͆͠.̸͖͎͈̪̩̞̑͋͆̌̌.̷̼̘̼̟͙̩͋̀͆̐͌̔"̷̢͕͕̩͉̬̝̺̠̖͎̏
̵̨̞͕̺͙̯̲͈̺͓̘̻̒̇̊̄̿͝ͅ
̶̞̜̬̩͕̩̹̒̀̈́͐͑̉͑̀́̔͘̕̚"̵̧̭̹͖̝͙́͊̓̄̈̎͊̊͠Ḑ̷̛͚̣̹͈̗̼̞͔̟͇̱̱͎͑̿̂͋̐̋̄̒͐̚o̶̢͍͉̪͕͍̯͔̦͊̋͑͆͋̃̒̔̑̄n̴̦̜̳̭̠̤̋͆̋'̷̟̲̭̠̣̰̣̖͚̯̖̇̃́̏̉̍͒̚͘͘͜͜ͅţ̸̳͚̣̥̣̳͕̻̝̫̈́́̉͆͒͌̕͘͝ ̸̡̝̱̳̘͍̯̭͈̠̜̗̌̓̆̋̒͐̒́̑͜͝g̸̺̺̮̥͗̐̓͝ì̷̛̟̪̬̪͎̯̟͈͖̙̩̹̻̂͗̍̓̓v̸̡͇͍͈͈̭̣̑̀̿̇̉̊̊́͌̈́̐̏͝e̵͎̰̝̰̱̱͖̱̩͛̅̈́̉̅́̇̔̈́͆̄̊̚͠ͅ ̵̨̡̠̪̣͔͈͎͚̟̯̀͌̽̂͒̋̽m̸̧̛̭͕̜͈͈̠̦̹̎̅̉̈̿͜͝͝͝ͅe̴̢̧͚̝̼̜̹͓̪͗̔͊̌̄̀̅͂͘͝ͅ ̶̬̟̰̊̀̄̒̈́̆͘̕ţ̸͓͓̙̗̔̊͑́͗̚͝h̶̛̭̮̺̪̦̞̻̗̩͒̉̒̀̋͂̿̀̈́̀̊̈́̚ǎ̶̛̠̫̥͇͓̘̾̔́̽͂͒͋͗̕͝͝t̷̻̹͝ ̴̢̩͈̱̺͓̪̜̰̤̩̂̈́̊̎̉̏͋͛̈́̆̃̀̚͜l̶̨͎͍͇͆͗̏̔̌̽̐̓̓̌̑͘̕ò̵̫͕͎̣͍̝̦̅̃̐̕̕͠ͅo̸̻̲̭͎̳̱̥͖̗͕͙̘̓̆̍̏͂̒̕̚͠k̸̮̱̲̼̫̣̪̜̙̝̤̳̆̒̈́̔͊̐̏̌̓͜,̶̧̱̬̊͌̄̇͌͝ ̶͉̘̻̦͙̟̪̱̝̙̌̔͝j̷̹̗̤̮͚̪̓̋̎͑̈́͝͠ų̸̧͖͙̟̱̬̝̦̼̎̓̏͌̈́s̴͉̲̓͛̍̈́͝t̴̨̞̹̥̋̅̋͑ ̸̧̥̮̦͔͖̱͚̣̹̙̭̈̌̔͗̾̈́̽͌́̌͠͠t̴̲̞̣͊̊̿̽̏̋͊́͠͝á̴̰͖͔̲̫̭̙̼̓͂͑ķ̸̲͖̲͙͎̮͚̝̲͓̣̎̔́̕é̵̥̫ͅ ̶̡̨̥̠̤͎̖̤̍̅͗̑͊̊͠h̷̛͕̙̳̩̩͋̂̐̓̈͊̑̂͊͐̅͠i̸̠̖̫̘̹̤̗̲͛͋m̷̼̠̞̱̜͛͛̇̊͒͗̆̈́̀̚͝ ̵͈̜͙̥̫̻̮̤̰̘͓͍̒͊́̈̑͠o̷̢͔̯̰̤̻̾̍̅̔̈̈́͛̆̒̅͝n̶̡͓͍͕͕͔͎͈̱̪̘̝͐̌̿͊͊͆ͅ ̸̨̦̟̮̗̩̥̹̹̥͋̿̆͆̾͗͗̾͐͐͋ͅa̷̢̢̻̟̟͓̤͇̗͙̭̖̗̓͂̊̈́̉̾̃̽̏́̋͌̚ ̶̹̖̞̑̀̓̾͊͌͝ͅ'̶͓̘̬̦̜̩̓͛̉̇͛̾͜t̶̛̳̫̲̱̱͖̬̹̣̮͓̳̤̾͋͆͛̒̿͆̅̌͝͝ͅȓ̷̢̪̥̪̱̻̝͗̈́̈́̾̇̑͒̐͘͜a̸̛̖̩̹̥̞̣̞͕̫͚̓̈́͋̋̈́í̴̡̮͎̘̻͋̓͒̀̓̈́́͊͆͛̕n̸͇̣̎̈́͌̈́̃̈͛̅͊̄͗͝i̴̧͓̯͕͍͈̜͍͆̃̄̓̀͜͝n̶̨͖̮͇̼͌̽̏g̵̢̢͍̣̣͎̈́̏̈́͆͛̏̔̀̈͋̈́̅̏̚ ̵̧̼̻̰̺̹̰̜̔̿͆̿̊͂̽̀͛̀̐̂͘r̶̤̺͋̓͗́͑̎͗͝ư̶̻̫͇̝̭͕̠͕͆́͒͐͒̃̉̍͆͒̕n̷̫͙͍͉͓̫̳̈́́͌́̿̔͂̋̋̃̀̾̕͝'̷̛̞͖̻͈̔̂̈͒.̸̨̞̗̦̥̙͉͇̗̬̭͛̏̎͜ͅ"̴͙͙͚̰̖̊̍ͅ
̵̛̮̫̆͑̑̆̉̈́̋̌̿̈́̀͝͝
̶͇̦͇̦̑̅͒̓̈͋͐̀͆͊̈́͝"̷̢͉̬̫̘͎̭̘̇̒̊̔͆͑̈́̀͝*̶̝̝̭̭̈́͝š̴͈̭̖̬̻̲̭̫̤̘̆̉̅̂̚͜į̵̢̨̛͈̦̼̺͖̭̻̎͊̉̄̓͛͊͂͘͝ͅg̸̖͇̎͛̓͋h̴͖͚̞̬̻̼͊̈́̃͌̎͌͝*̶̝̖͈̲͈̯̭̳̮͈̠̈́̈́̈́̂̉ ̷͉̞̥͛̓͑ͅO̷̹̗̮͛͐̐̀̆͊̽̄͗͆ḳ̶̡̨̛̺̮̣̙̭͎͚̘͖̠̻̐̾͊̓̅̏͂̎̕͝͠å̵͖̼̙͈̏̕͠͝ý̷̡̞̭͕̜̘̰̻̳̍̀̾̄̀̄̈͘͠.̸̜͖̬̎͘̕͜.̷̨̞̘̲̾̾̆͘"̸̷̴̶̶̸̧̧̨̡̧̱̫̠͓͉̤̞̭̱͖̰̰̮͕͉͖̪̩͓̱̤̮͎͉̬͕̥̻̰̳͙̦̠̗͖̗̿̄̊̊̎̈̈́̄͒̽̉̔͑̒͂̂́́͒͜͠͝͠͝ͅ

It made him quickly put the rod away and pull out a teleporation crystal.

"Teleport Scalabis!"

-------------------------------

Once on the 24th floor, the hunter would stand by the portal station, and await the NIGHT to come.  His face still slightly flushed by the situation that he escaped from.

Teleportation Crystal used

Edited by Hirru
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Coral was but a short walk from the edge of the lake. She took her associate's hand in her own, stepping out of the vessel first. Day seemed to be fading fast, and though the sunset was a sight for sore eyes, so too did it melt the world in harsh colours of black and orange-red.

"Careful on your way back," she muttered to her escort. The distance between them was close, too close for NIGHT's comfort, but away from prying eyes and the look of gods she was much more aware of her position as a warrior than a civilian. The grip on her companion's palm was tight.

A smile neither of them could see, and a light chuckle. "Likewise."

The player let go of that hand first. Fingers trailing against each other, the shadow right behind her original. And away from the material world, NIGHT pondering on her meet, she paced quicker, feeling the skin of her other, traces of their touch still on her own. Heightened rate of breathing. It was gone by the time she reached the teleporter, and out of mind when she spotted Hirru from the crowd.

-- What was that blush about?

"Hey," she called out to him, stepping away from the platform. One hand was tucked away in her tracksuit's pocket, the other raised in a gesture before pulling away from herself, extended towards a route out of the city. "This way. About Floor 23, right?"

When she fell by his side, her breathing hardened. Briny air, but it was cold and harsh, stung as a reminder that dusk was falling upon them.

"Whenever you're ready. Tell me about it."

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When he finally saw the one called NIGHT for a third time, but for the first time alone, he thought to himself that she felt like a certain shadow.   Inquisitive ones, the sneaky players were nearly all like that.  Was that a particular pattern he should be looking out for himself?  He didn't really know, to be honest.  He had trusted enough of them to not really look into the details anyway, or was it that their goals didn't really coincide with his own?  Now that he wasn't truly looking into the other side and his memories, the hunter was now free to look into everyone else.  The world around him was fake, after all.  Why care about that, when he has people that were linked with the other world.

"Hey there!"

He would greet her back before raising an eyebrow.  He thought they were going to talk about Hidden?  Maybe, Hirru had misunderstood a message once more.  He really did hate trying to figure emotions and telltale signs from words on a screen.  It would only come down to a single shrug, before walking down the way towards the outer beaches of the main island.

"Well, where to begin.."

Hirru was weighing how to go with this.  He had never known NIGHT, nor knew what she would do if Hirru talked about his issue.  He would have to keep some things to himself.

"To start, keep in mind what Hidden had said during the meeting.  It's essentially the heavily abridged version."

He would breath in deeply the brisk sea air, as the breeze seemed to be sending the last of the sun's warm breath to them.  Exhaling, he could talk further with a little relaxation coming soon.

"We can skip past much of the preparation phase, as there wasn't much else that was different that day.  Well, that is except for being asleep until the start of the raid."

Hirru had forgotten that he was put to the point of exhaustion due to his fervent hunt for the quest that could reveal something about ones 'dearest desire'.  He felt that it was not too far to say that he would look for it some time later, but it wasn't something on his list, at the moment.  The front was all he needed to think about now.

"Heh, that wasn't really planned out, but I got there while everyone was working around supporting buffs.  We had intel from the scouting team that round, about this boss being five different beings.    The descriptions of the items that designated each sounded like our basic party line-up.  So we were prepared for something that was roughly like we were, like the players."

He sighed heavily and hung his head a bit.

"I took that a little too close to heart, I guess."

Edited by Hirru
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"To start, keep in mind what Hidden had said during the meeting. It's essentially the heavily abridged version."

That put NIGHT to no ease. Hidden was a person with her own flaws and faults--

"Remembering that we're up against a computer instead of creature's with real feelings is important."

-- she never got the chance to realize that was one of them, either.

Her gaze darted as Hirru took a beat before continuing. The recount seemed reasonable, a rest before the fight, but items gifted to the raid as a hint of what was to come. Surely it sounded like elements that they should've been looking out for, as a whole, during their searches within the new floors next time.

"So we were prepared for something that was roughly like we were, like the players."

(Like the players?)

"So like team composition," she reiterated, searching her memory for a match that made sense. "There was one similar occasion a while ago, too. An Easter Dungeon. But the enemies were all bunnies rather than..."

NIGHT narrowed her eyes, still suspect and confused. 'Like the players?' Not only did it feel like an odd tell, but the woman couldn't figure what was her companion's intention behind those words. It sounded as though Hirru was speaking of a distinct 'other', for one.

"Well."

Her gaze swept from the ocean, the man in her vision as she spoke to him, towards the outskirts of the city and the flora that bordered the land and coast. "What did you encounter?"

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"Yes, exactly that much."

The hunter responded back, although he didn't understand the event that she mentioned.  It must have happened after the 24th floor raid, as the hunter was otherwise outside of any proper help back then.  He was in a darker state of mind back then.  He didn't want to do anything, outside of eating a little bread and laying in an inn for days on end.  He had wanted to help out the front lines, but it was evident that he was only going to be a hinderance then.  It was better for him to fade into the dark...

Hirru snapped out as they stepped out of the city and onto the sands of the beaches.  His thoughts about then were pulling him back in, which he didn't want to do.  The hunter had already pulled himself out and started the recovery process.  This was another step towards that.

"The enemy was five in total.  Each one having a specific technique, or ability that was unique to them, but was prevalent in our current builds.  Each of the Council, as they were called, were one of the basics for a party: DPS, D.o.T., Tank, Support, and Leader.  Although, one can argue a couple of those aren't needed, it's a basic team layout."

The hunter could remember Rori's interactions with nearly everyone that he crossed blades with.  He was so filled with energy and actually talked back to many of the players.  Isaxi did too, though her words were more of mocking.

"There was Rori, the DPS.  He had a rather insane ability to nearly always cause bleeding and would go after anyone regardless of hate on him.  Ratar, the Damage over Time fighter.  His attacks seemed to go right through any protection we used.  He also had some blob thing come out after he died, which only slowed us down a little.  Isaxi, the Leader, whom was barking orders and buffing her elves, even as her team was falling apart around her.  I think that was were the Leadership skill was unlocked too, but I can't quite remember.  Evahira, the Tank, whom had this incredible ability to react to attack against her team and redirect it against herself.  That and this weird aura thing that gave them Over Health, like our buff."

He would put up a finger as he named off each of them, while leaving his pinky finger for the last.  His voice staggered a bit while recalling them, but he had to recall the last one.

"And lastly the support, Durares.  He was just a kid, or more a teenager by our standards, but he had these cards that could buff, heal, and debuff as he drew them."

"All together, they were quite formidable, but that's not why the 23rd floor was a disaster.  Combat wise, we were slaughtering them."

Hirru had to hang his head while giving a feint grin.

"No, the disaster was because, as we were fighting and talking, they would respond back.  Not like the common mimicry that one could see in the NPC's around the floors.  These seemed to show emotions and relations, like we would.  Everyone else didn't seem to care except for Hestia and Teion.  They talked to ask questions.  I, on the other hand, saw the emotion and thought I could use it to our advantage."

The hunter shrugged.

"It took advantage of me instead."

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She didn't know these people. She'd imagined them as people, too, because from Hirru's speech alone, the enemy didn't seem to be of a different race. At the very least, if they were beastial of some kind, surely the other player would've mentioned it.

Each individual reminded her of a caricature of archetypes in RPGs. That must've been how they were, now, players trapped in the iron castle, and yet even the names felt foreign enough for NIGHT to understand their differences. She nodded, noting the fact that they could've benefitted from something like consumables, to organize themselves in manners that mimicked what players were up to.

Cardinal learned, and understood, and developed.

She barely caught the hesitancy in her companion's voice when he introduced the youngest of the bunch. Eyes to the ocean, keeping the man blurry and faded in her sights. It was only when he lowered his own gaze that Hirru refocused in her view. A pained expression.

"These seemed to show emotions and relations, like we would."

NIGHT felt her own neutrality fade, brows turning downwards in comprehension.

"They talked to ask questions.  I, on the other hand, saw the emotion and thought I could use it to our advantage. It took advantage of me instead."

"..."

 

So she was silent, after a moment. They walked, with only the wash of the waves upon the shore dogging the sound of crunched sand underneath every taken step.

She stared at the patterns of the beach. Wavy, natural lines. 'Sinusoidal', she was certain they'd mimicked, from memory, the strange way concepts foreign would return to her only at the moments when she didn't need them to come. Every dusting ruined the grounds ahead of her, beneath her even, depending on the way NIGHT was liken to drag her feet across the sand. She didn't need to pay her feet very much attention to trace out a path ahead of her, knowing how the art would've been disturbed.

The player followed that trail in her head, in patience, in recall, knowing where she'd been before. Knowing that she followed after her, the knight, knowing where they were both headed for the day.

In the quiet, she took a breath, shaky, because she couldn't read her companion's expression after noticing the shift of his shoulders. Her singular question was soft, timid almost. Eyes that wouldn't leave the faint outline of them, where she believed her secondary to have been.

"How?"

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There was a bit of a silence before he got a response, but it wasn't what the hunter expected.  Was something wrong?  Even Hestia had a kind of solemn understanding, but her response was loud and clear.  Though, they were fighting a large plant lion creature that healed way too much.  That wasn't the point here though, as NIGHT asked a simple question.

"Simple.  I tried using their relationships against them.  Isaxi and Rori, for one, seemed to really get along well.  When the swordsman died, Isaxi was having a really hard time getting Evahira and Durares to do anything.  Though that was also due to those two's relationship.  It seemed more like a.. brother-sister, or a close friendship.  I can't really tell too well the differences, but when Durares was starting to become distressed or whenever he was attacked, Evahira was always there to help him out."

He would point over bridge that connected to the next island, motioning that they were going in that direction so NIGHT wouldn't wander off without him.  Though, he was sure if that happened, she would be stealthily somewhere close by.

"It really came to how they were there.  Isaxi, Rori, and Ratar seemed to be the ones that had kept everyone in the dark upon the 23rd floor.  They corrupted officials and other elves to keep the 'queen' alive."

He gestured a bit to the side in a circular motion.

"The queen's bones were hanging off of their wall!"

The hunter sighed before reaching

"I don't think they were anything but evil.  However, that didn't mean that the other two were.  Evahira was a sworn royalguard, I think the captain of said guard.  She didn't seem to be there on ill intentions.  The boy, Durares, had the power of premonition, but his visions of the future were not what he was seeing now.  He was crying, and wasn't really doing anything except his passive healing.  Due to that, the front liners saw him as the obvious threat, as Rori and Ratar were already dead, Isaxi had barely any power, and Evahira wasn't that good of a tank."

Hirru could only shrug as he continued on.

"So, I guess it was to the boys surprise when he found a teleportation crystal in his hand, and me in his sights.  Not facing him to kill him, but showing my back as I faced my fellow front liners, to dissuade them from attacking the boy and to attack Isaxi instead.  Her death would lead to a more peaceful end between these two, I thought."

He smiled as he shook his head back and forth.  Thinking back upon it all now, the hunter really should have talked to someone about it before acting.

"You know, I didn't really tell anyone what I was doing.  I just did it."

Then a little gesture to all of him which then got tossed outwards, symbolizing everything about him was out there now.

"And everybody disliked that."

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It was simple game development AI; behaviour trees, them. Computer scientists had known about it for ages, and it was only recently being applied to the field when the game they were trapped in was made.

"Simple. I tried using their relationships against them."

Conditional check. One of them died, and the others' behaviour would be altered. Relationships be damned, for they were faux.

"Isaxi, Rori, and Ratar seemed to be the ones that had kept everyone in the dark upon the 23rd floor. They corrupted officials and other elves to keep the 'queen' alive."

Intricate lore, to ensure the players had sufficient motivation in believing that their slaughter of the people was right. NIGHT had seen it first hand before. She was no stranger to it, despite the tightness in her throat that would emerge when she had to put humanoid figures to the slaughter.

"I don't think they were anything but evil."

They were such black and white creatures, weren't they?

"The boy, Durares, had the power of premonition, but his visions of the future were not what he was seeing now. He was crying, and wasn't really doing anything except his passive healing. Due to that, the front liners saw him as the obvious threat..."

"..."

 

 

NIGHT was still following along, of course, as Hirru had motioned their route around the isles earlier. And though her silence continued, it might've been notable that her reticence was significantly dour. Tightened lips, an unreadable look and a stare to the darkening waves. The shuffling of her feet against gravel was starting to take precedence over the crashing of water onto land.

"So, I guess it was to the boys surprise when he found a teleportation crystal in his hand, and me in his sights."

With sleight of hand, she pulled one out of her pockets. Ran her thumb over the sharpened edges of the block, its surface sparkling and catching the orange light, sunset reflecting off of its mirrors, clouding the details of its creation underneath. She closed her eyes as she walked along, knowing their path ahead was clear of obstacles.

Hesitant, she tried placing herself within that scenario. A construct to one side -- scared, afraid, alone. She felt her own skin crawl even at the possibility of that feeling instilled in her double.

And to her right was the rest of the world.

"You know, I didn't really tell anyone what I was doing."

Fate entrusted to their hands. Her grip was tight on the block, even tighter the possibility of instructions, condolences, an apology, a farewell. Words that rose on the flat of her tongue -- she forced them to die in that moment, gulped them down with one trained breath.

"I just did it."

Traces of their fingers on her own flared back to life. One last time, she'd get to feel them, soft and supple skin against her own.

 

It would be so easy to shatter the item in her palm right there and then. A fragile object, that game data, created from nothing more than thought and belief onto realization of a fantasy long sought after.

What kept her back from doing so was cutting off ties to her conversationalist, that anchor from her mind, her speculation.

She wondered if it was just as difficult as it would be, for her, to leave the player behind too.

 

"--And everybody disliked that."

Of course they would. Why wouldn't they?

 

 

 

The crack of dusk settled back into her vision, and NIGHT took another steady breath, letting the object fade back into the ether with one light bounce of its shell upwards. Wordless, still, as they kept walking. One glance towards Hirru's face, and she knew the man had kept his smile on from earlier.

Wry? Or was it genuine? Out of naivety, or a misunderstanding?

She was desperate not to give away her own position, her own secrets.

"So," she started, finally deciding to feed the conversation more words than she'd managed up to now. Stuffed back into her pockets, her fingers played with the smooth fabric, light in her eyes faded as her own conscious was found to be foggy, disturbed. "Did you... ever regret it?"

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"That's a conflicting question still."

The smile that graced his face still as he relived the entire story yet again would weaken a bit.  The corners coming to a weak neutrality.  'How many times was he going to have to do this?,' the hunter thought.  Though the answer was as plain as the final light of the day, as it turned to dusk upon them.  He was damned to retell the tale of his own disaster until the end of Aincrad.  He had to, if he wanted to keep the memories of those that died safe.  Their stories were tied to his now, and he would have to speak of himself, if he wanted to talk about them.

"In the moment, I wasn't quite thinking straight.  After I betrayed my friends, or as they said, 'betrayed my oath'; I got tackled by a player, and stabbed by another."

He motioned back to NIGHT, whom at this time, he really hadn't been paying too much mind to.  He was in story telling mode, and wasn't too keen on his surroundings.  She seemed to be listening to him, as she responded with a question or two here and there, but it didn't seem like she was 'here' with him.

"The one that stabbed me was Hidden.  Although, I do not blame her now.  I still don't like that she wants to lord that history over me.  Was partly why I thought we were going to talk to, or about her tonight, but that can be another time.."

The hunter's smile would come back as he shrugged.  He didn't like to take grudges, as there were too many orange players out there that were like her.  Most were dead, but they were not all bad.  Just seeking someplace to be. That's what he thought, at least.  That's what sis taught him.

A few seconds passed in silence once more, as the hunter reminisced about walking down this very bridge going towards the 24th labyrinth.  It was where his issue was first talked about, as he let his closest friends know about his past, or lack there of.  He could only trust them with that information, so far.  Them and one other. 

"Anyway, I couldn't understand everyone at a certain point.  I thought I could save those that needed to be saved.  Which kind of worked, as Durares did teleport away."

A look of disappointment would crop up on the hunter's face.  He knew better to now, but the boy was still on his mind.  He wanted to find the boy and set things straight, although he didn't know how or why.  He just wanted to see that face and figure it out from there.

"Still, I betrayed my word and kept us from continuing, if only for a few seconds.  I wasn't trusted by anyone, and my words were not heeded.  I couldn't understand why.. and just shut down, as my thoughts turned to them betraying me.  That the players that I knew as friends were willing to kill a child to return to their world, so they wouldn't be afraid to do the same to me."

The darkness was encroaching upon them now, and the bridge had ended.   Stepping upon the fresh sand of a new island, the hunter would go to take a single torch from the archway of the bridge.  He would point towards a path through the island that they used when they were first scouting the floor.

"So, long story short, I didn't regret anything then."

The path was rather small, as this island wasn't that wide, but rather long.  Cutting through the island was much faster than walking the beach.  The light from the torch was only a small area around them, so mobs could easily appear to attack.

"As time passed and I talked to everyone, I've learned quite a bit about that situation.  After my incident, I heard that there was quite a bit of issues that erupted due to my actions.  Many people didn't like that fact that a front-liner had effectively drawn their sword against them, while a few others thought that they understood me.  Morally, killing a child would just bring them all to a killing mindset, or some psychological mumbo that I couldn't understand when they were talking to me about it.  I took that factor out of the picture, apparently.  Though, the other side of the front said that the boss was just a series of ones and zeros.  Data to be deleted and didn't need to be heeded for its behavior."

Walking over to the end, the hunter would stop before stretching a bit.  They had walked a fair amount already.  It was time to take a little bit of a break.

"I kind of regret that day, but not so much for my actions.  More so the reaction that followed, which fractured the front.  I guess the 24th floor boss, Leviathan, was much worse to deal with due to poor planning and some people not wanting to cooperate.  It was because of my words that there was such a schism, and I resent that.  I regret that the most, that I caused others to be weighed down, when it should be me who is weighed down the most.

He would gesture to stop.  Another bridge was a few meters away, but that would lead towards where they fought the labyrinth guardian.  He really didn't want to relive that fight again, nor bring back those memories.  Big damn heroes that couldn't do a thing.  The hunter would shake his head at the thought.

"Mind if we rest for a bit.  It's been a long day, and I haven't had a proper rest.  The meeting wasn't much of one."

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"That's a conflicting question still."

(So it seems that it would be, huh?)

"In the moment, I wasn't quite thinking straight."

(That was funny. She wouldn't be thinking straight herself, either.)

"After I betrayed my friends, or as they said, 'betrayed my oath'; I got tackled by a player, and stabbed by another."

By some manner, there was a faint recognition returning to her sights.

In reality, she couldn't help but play the simulation at the back of her mind, too, as Hirru elaborated further about the attack. Motive be damned, to have another player's dagger sunk into her skin, through her abdomen -- it took all of NIGHT's own efforts to stand tall, reduce her shakes to a minimum, feeling that pang of pain once again, over and over at the back of her mind. Persistent and unrelenting, it stayed even when she placed her own hand over her own form from within her pockets, what awake eyes returning back to their slumber as she listened, still, trying not to fall into that graceful dark.

"Was partly why I thought we were going to talk to, or about her tonight, but that can be another time.."

NIGHT shook her head, lids of her own lowering, vision settled on the bridge. The clacking of wooden panels was a welcome shift from the earth as they continued, the woman hanging on a thread slowly climbed as they continued on their stroll underneath the fading light.

"Anyway, I couldn't understand everyone at a certain point. I thought I could save those that needed to be saved. Which kind of worked, as Durares did teleport away."

Somehow, relief washed over her. To know that the boy was safe... or was it her own construct, in her own mind? To know that they would be rescued despite her own.

(NIGHT knew better. Fate was worse for her secondary, but at least they wouldn't stay around to see her inevitable demise at that point.)

She had the strength to raise her gaze then, spotting the conflicting look upon Hirru's face. It made sense afterwards when he reflected upon the aftermath -- distrust, misunderstandings...

"That the players that I knew as friends were willing to kill a child to return to their world, so they wouldn't be afraid to do the same to me."

... Yeah.

To be honest, NIGHT had the same fear, too.

"So, long story short, I didn't regret anything then."

After hearing of Hirru's tale, she could safely come to the conclusion that she wouldn't have, either, given if she were put in the exact same situation. Still, her fingers were crossed that it would never, never come to that.

So she would have to keep her lips sealed. Tell no soul about it. The woman had it figured a long time ago, of course, but it did bear repetition...

 

Hirru raised his torch. The road ahead was visible. All NIGHT knew to do was follow along.

"As time passed and I talked to everyone, I've learned quite a bit about that situation."

Teacher to student. Present gifted from the past. As she suspected, some would've sympathized with her stance upon the creatures of this world. And others would stop at nothing to ensure their escape from Aincrad. After all, it was virtually well known --

"--The other side of the front said that the boss was just a series of ones and zeros. Data to be deleted and didn't need to be heeded for its behavior."

So why couldn't she follow suit in their judgement? All signs pointed to them being right. Something churned in her stomach when she thought about the inherent coldness upon that perspective.

'Didn't need to be heeded for its behaviour. Didn't need to be heeded for its behaviour.'

It just sounded... harsh, to her. Data was built by human hands, originated from the natural world, research that was gathered by humanity themselves to form a collective database of knowledge. Even if it was used against them, even if they as a species were to pitch the world around them, made by them as gods, against themselves... could they really neglect something so precious, so important? Something so impressionable, so volatile?

NIGHT held a hand to her mouth as they'd stopped. Hirru had bent backwards -- but that was not for her to heed. When they picked up pace once again, she was at the ready to listen, pushing down the sickness she felt compelled to ignore, for now.

"I kind of regret that day, but not so much for my actions. ... It was because of my words that there was such a schism, and I resent that. I regret that the most, that I caused others to be weighed down, when it should be me who is weighed down the most."

(--Even the old man couldn't catch much of a break, huh?)

She found herself and her lips tied tight. That there was pity for her fellow player to be put under the spotlight for such an act, to be marked as though having performed a grave sin. And yet, just as awful was the fact that he hadn't the possibility of grieving for it yet. That his concern, first and foremost, was with the people he'd shared an oath with. The front-liners, as she understood, had the duty to the rest of the citadel that they would carry everyone out of their digital confinement.

NIGHT didn't know what sort of player Hirru was, initially, but weighing the burdens of the people on his shoulders...

If she were to be afforded a tiny bit of selfishness, Ren would've said it reminded her a little bit of herself.

"Mind if we rest for a bit."

They'd paused, halfway through the isle. She halted herself just as Hirru came to the same end.

"It's been a long day, and I haven't had a proper rest."

The woman felt small, looking up at her companion. Almost like looking into a mirrorball, seeing a reflection of what her future could've been. Her attention had returned to the present, almost blank at her realization of the other player, and so gave him a nod as he found it convenient to tire.

"The meeting wasn't much of one."

And she would agree, half-heartedly, with a hum.

The nice thing about the 24th floor was its penchant for palm trees. They were found everywhere, littered all across the isles, and so were they lucky to have stopped by one in pause of their discussion. NIGHT rounded it, leaning against it should her companion, too, find purchase in one of its sides.

She stewed further, listening to the waves echo, hearing water lap up the pillars of the bridge they'd just left. Overhead might've been cloudy, a muddy hue of the darkest blue, and yet she could spot a few littered specks of white against the noise of the cosmos above.

For that brief moment, she didn't feel as alone as she'd been used to feeling amongst her player company.

 

"--Sorry I hadn't been talking much."

If there was anything else she felt in that time, it was also a faint idea that she would owe the other player much of her appreciation and sorrow. For speaking at length about a story that must've been as old as time to the man, by now, probably wasn't easy. To live with that stigma, too, though he was trying to change it.

NIGHT brought her eyes to the water. Even out of that black abyss, she could still make out the peaks of each passing wave, the highlights of the faint lights that shined down from on high. Watched them roll down her immediate vision, kept her watch on one of them in particular as she spoke.

"To be honest, I'd also been contemplating the matter myself. In truth... I hate to say that you did anything wrong on your part." A scoff and a light smile, before she continued. "Really, you didn't need to hear it again, did you?"

She kicked off the base of the tree she was standing by. Made her way back to face Hirru, short stature by his side.

"So knowing what you do know about the consequences of your actions, to protect the ones you believe needing so... Could I pose you a question, just to think about?" Earnesty was in her voice and her heart, but unspoken truth bordered her from full admittance to her own problems, her own desires. "Say it wasn't a kid, but someone else you really cared about. Even though they were just... a series of ones and zeroes."

NIGHT's vision found the ground once again, before returning back to her associate in full. "'Data to be deleted and didn't need to be heeded for its behaviour.' Even though I know it's true-- that we know it's true; given that situation... would you still think it right to have done it? To let them go, to spare them from the slaughter, despite them being an obstacle to us heading up the castle?"

"...It's a strange question, I know." NIGHT barely let herself exhale from the weight of her words, from knowing her companion's answer would differ, now, under the perceived betrayal of everyone else the man had trust. "But even if it means nothing to you... We can say that I'm looking for answers. Hirru, I don't know you very well, but would you let a repetition of that happen again?"

"If so... forgive me for asking, but which side would you stand on, knowing what you know now?"

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Hirru watched as the raven colored girl that had listened quietly to his tale nearly seem to vanish behind a palm tree, but it was only a trick of the light.  Moving closer with his torch, the silhouette of her tracksuit would come into focus.  Walking close by, he dug a little hole in the dirt to hold the torch in place.  He didn't feel like holding the thing, and there weren't any low hanging branches on the palm trees.  Too high up to reach and he wasn't going to climb for it.  With the arrangement, if he brought a few more sticks and dry leaves, he could probably make a campfire.  Though, the last time he tried that..

Spoiler

"̵̱̝̩͚̮̝͔̺͉͚̜̤̞̎͑̅́̈́̈́́̈́̃ͅW̶̧̥͎͉̙̭͚̦̰̠̜͐̓̄͗̉͠ͅh̴͈̦̝͚́̾͗̒͋̈́̂̈̄͝͝a̴͚̦̺̳̓t̶̛̘͔͉̗͓̣̗̜̏͒͜ ̷͇͉̫̖͇͉̮̻̹̭͎͉̟̼́̈̎̔̇͛̃̂̊̚̚i̸͔̻̖̩̻̝̺͈̬̠̬̟͚̋̽͋͆̍̂̓͠n̴̻͚̑͛̈́̇̐̈́̇́̍̀͂͋̋͠ͅ ̵̡̦̻͇͍͖̤̭̣̩͕̀̈́̽̈́́t̴̬͔͈̫͇͓͔̮̋͜͜h̸̛͈̓̀̏ē̴̢̡̢̧̧̛͔͖͐̓̏́̑͂̏̀͋͆ ̷̡͚͖͓͚͈̫͔̔͐b̷̧̡̺̣̰̟̮̞̲͇̿́̍̅͋͘͠l̷̡̧̢̠̜̱̪̈͂̒͆̀͋̔͊̈́̕o̵̢̺͔̫̔̄̈́̃̌͑̇̓͊̑̇̇̚͠ö̷̢͓̳̼͍͕͕͚̝̺̓̿̐̎́̏̈́̚ͅd̸̢͋̈̓̏y̷̦̗͉͉̳̙̱͉͓͚̾́̔̕͝͝ ̷͉͚̅͗ḩ̷͍̪͐̎͐̒͗̿̓̏͝é̵̡̧̛͇̣͖͙̠̮̥̣̳̓͛̀͐͂̿̇̑̀͗͘ͅľ̴̨̠͕̃̿̈́͊͛͗̎͛̿͋l̷̨͓͕̻͇̝̜͒͋̽̈́̾͝ͅ ̵̥̭͍̩̞̗̏̋͑̿̾̔̀̅́͌͐̚͠i̵̬̗̥̍̀͝s̴̛̱͓̱̩͎͇̀̀̀͂́̔͛͐͐̑̍͜͠ ̶͔̞͎̝͍̳͍̱̖͊̎̊͒̓̈́́͝ģ̸̨̹̙̫͇̰̬̘̖͉̙̌͝o̴̢͕̰͔͉̖̜̫̙̫̣͔̹͒̒̂̏̊̋̄̐͂̀̏̇͠i̵̼͑̑̄̃̀̔͌̾͗͐̄̕ǹ̶̢̟̖̠̙̥̱̱͓͕̖̞̯͌̇̃́̿́̔̊͠g̴̝̙͚̿̄̓̃͜ ̴̨͍̙̹̬̳̲͖̙̯̻̖̈́͆̎ơ̷̠̟̬̲͍̟̈̅̌̍̓̓̓͆̐͐̀͝͝ͅņ̴̦̝̤̗͕̩͔̘̋̃̀́͋͒̈́̀̾̊̈̒̂͝ ̶̫̯̲͎͐͛̋̾̅̍̓̀͐̾̈́̍i̵̜͙͉̟̲̦̋̽͂͠ͅń̵̨͈̤͓̮̬̤̣̝̰̅̉͋͘͜͝ ̴͙̰͔̱͍͇͑̏͐̕͠ͅḩ̶̯̻̜̞̳̗̪̫͖͎̯̪̫̉̂͐̔͂͆͒̈̕̕ê̶̡̮̋̒̄̑̿̀͌̚̕͠r̵̜̪͌͐̒̅̏͊͌̽̿͘e̵̡̗̭̟͇̎͂̄͂?̴̦̜̹̏͛̇̌̆̃̿ ̸̨̥͈͊̏͊̈́̇ ̶̢̧͈̖͇͎̘͆̀͋̀͋̉̕͠͝Ẉ̷͕̲̇h̵̢̢͈͓̭̃̃y̸̧̫̠͙̪͍͎͖͚̝̠̳͖͆͌̍̋̂̌͒͆͋ ̵̧̲͚͙͈͇͔̖̳̮̓̎͜ͅį̸̻̠͍̲͊̿͐͋̌͊̾̆͠s̸̛̬̯̗̠̯͛͗̃̒͂̒ ̷̝͎̱̳͇̯̈́̀̈͑͆̀̂͒̓̄͠ţ̶̲̓́͆̄̑̐̓̚ḧ̶̢͎̟̱̲͋̌͒̓̾̍̂͜͝ẽ̶̖̤͆̈r̷̛̜̝͍͖̪̤̿̒̒̚͝ȩ̷̛͚͈͍͓̻̺͙̣͋̑̿̈̌̃̊̐̈́̚̕͝ ̸̡̤̘͕̳̦̱̳͗͐̀̑̑́̊͑̿̎̓̀͆ş̴͎̦̲̬͓͍̮̦̉m̸̡̖̼̖̤̥̠͊̌͛͒̋̌͜ǫ̴̩͓͎̬̥̝̼̞̮̭̍̇̌̌̉̆̉̌͌̍̆̈́̽ͅk̴̠̥̺͔̠̘̫̊̇̀͜͜ͅe̷̢̢͕͕͙̟̊̈́̑̍̒̚͝?̶̨̖͖̤̦̫̦̖̺̫̼͑͒̍̐̚ ̶̡̫͕̤̙͕̪͍̜̍̓̔͐̅̓*̸̧̢̥̳͚̭̮̊̆̆̈̉̀̀͛̈͑̕͜ċ̵̡̛̲͇͍̦͍̠̦͓͔̙͚̻ȍ̷̻̤̲̰͇͔̦̘͚̪̫̣̗̀̾̎͝u̵̧̨̮̲͖̥̝̲̱̙̓̋̇́̃̀̌̆̇̈́̅͘͜͜g̷̛̙̩͍͉̻͍̮̼͎̳̮̲̔̅̏͌̓͆͜͝h̸̡̧̧̨̞̘̫̦̤̞̩͙͊̌͋̓̌͋̑̽̌̆*̸̨͚̣͕͉͐̀c̴̻͚͍͙͈̩̯̻̩͖̓͗̉̀̾̆̎͘ǫ̸͍̙̝̖̮̖͕̙͖̮̥̖̅̈́͒̓͆̓͆̍́͘͝u̸̡̳͇̳͒̎̓̚g̸̞̭̬̖̯̝͛́͌̈̏̽̕͝͝͝͠ḧ̸̡̠̺͖̟̞̯̟̾̎̄͑̄̾̋͠͠*̴̡̯̺͉̬͉̼͎͚̹̰̺͙͊̈́͗͋̿̈́̂̈́̋̍̕͠"̵͕͈̬͙̆̉̀̂͌̕ͅ
̷̫̔̍̾͛̒͊̀͂͗̓
̸̭̝͓̏͋̐̉̉̒̿̑̂ͅ"̷̨̫̺̖̯̱̰̗̠̙̜͙̂̽́̓͑͋͛͊͆͛̓͊͝Į̶͈̫͉͂͗ͅ ̶̧̡͈̞̻̰̖̝̤̝͑̃̾̊̈́̈́̈́͌͝w̴̗̫̬̫̫̘͒̓͌̋a̸̙͐͑͋͋̂͛̓̑̋͝͠s̷̙̤͎̺̲̃̋̑̑̈́̍̅̾̃̓̚ ̴̛̮̅͌́̂̂̇͂͒̐̈́͋͠t̶̨̢̛͉͓̦̖̰͍͉͂͂̏̉̀̾͋̀̓̆͝͝r̸̢͉̟͕̝̬̮͙̎̂̎̒͘͠͝ÿ̸̙̹̹͓͎̹̬̺́̂̀̚͘͝i̶̡͉̼̥͎̲͎̺̰̠̥͓̝̒̆̏̍͒̊̊̔̐͛̋͘̚n̶͓̙͔̳̜̳̖͌̾͒̈́̀̾́̀͘g̵͇̞̦͇̘͓̯̻͍͈̝̔͋͊́͛͝ ̸͖̦́̆̀̀̅̍̕͠t̸͖̺͕͓̓̋̉͂̀̽͒͝ȯ̵̥͎̬̹̙̱͙̖͚̮̺ͅͅ ̴̧̛̗͍̩̲̯̥͙̣̦̞̘̺̑͑̆͐̌͆̓́̌̑̓͘t̶̡̖̞͔̟̳͔͆e̷̡̢̧͍̟̮͇̖̱͙̬͖͚̅̈̉͠a̶̛͕͉̞̻͇͚͉͋̍̀̇̅̀̊͌̎͜͜ç̴̼͐̋̈́̚͠h̴̨̡͙͍̟̜͉̩͓͈̼͈̪̄̀̃̀̍ ̷̛̛̘̦̝̹̩͌͊́̀͐͊̇H̶̨̤̘̭̻͉̘̠̹̰͋͂͆̈̐ị̵̥̝̣̰̥̫͔̦͆͊͂̿̑̔͒͝ŗ̶͙͓̭̼̩̬̝͉̳̟̼͆͛͌͛̾͒̍͌̅̈́͐͋͝r̸̟̖̈́̐͛̿͂̊͗̐̈́́̿̕̕͝ư̶̯͖̙͍̫̠̤̾̒̇̎͌͂͗͒͠͝ ̶͕̻̓͑̿̈́̉͑̾̍̚ḩ̴̩͎̞̩̰̓̎ͅͅơ̴̡̫̦̻̰̻̯̬͖̤̈́̏͋̓̊̇̒̋͒͜ẅ̵̘͇̹̞̟̗̮̩̱́͑͑͑̀̋̇͠ ̴̡̛̘̬͙̤͇̞̎̔͑͗ẗ̴̛̩̺̬̘́͛̀͂͛̍̆̕̚͝ô̵̲̞̹̻̺̠̱̺͎̪͖͕̄̀ ̶̡̗͚̠̖̳͓̺̰͇̼̋́͂͐̋̂̐̉̿͜ͅu̶̬̱̗̗̘̲͍͙͔̓͆̀̋s̵̯͇̳̼̥̼̖͓̯̟̳̼͓͉̑̎̾̒̍̍̇͌̓ȅ̷̦̫͚͓̜͑̍͝ ̸̢̪̞̝̲̗̺̺͎͛̈́̏́͊̀́́̋̎h̸͙̙̘̗̬̒͜į̸̦͓̲͚͈͙̮̻̰̺̲̝͛̐̔͐̄̑̆̍̃͝s̸̢̗̲̯͍͊̄̈́̾̂̈́̐̓̈́͑̌̔̒ ̴̡̡̧̥̲̫̩̙̒͂̈̿̇m̴̗͚̩̋̎̏͌́̾̆̇͛͝ȩ̸̬͕̜͈͉̱̫̪͓͚̭̀̽͊̿̓̽̀͑̿̾̾̕ņ̷͉̩̼̫̯͕͍̖͈̫̰̍̿͒̾͜u̷̧̧̙͖͍͙̹̰͎̼̫̒͋͂̀̉̒̽͐̃̔͂̚͝͝,̴̡̨̤̞̯̘̺̰͍͒̆́̉͗͒̈́͌̋̉̽̕̕͜ ̴̢̟͉͔̰͔̖͚̝̭̫̅̈́̌̑̕͜ͅa̸͍͕̱̼͖͓͉͚̭͚̖̜͑͌̾̀̈͒͆̀͠͠ͅn̴̡̯͙̗̜̝̲̘̩͕̖͍̠̋̋̃̆̂͊d̴̫̫̙͊̔ ̷̨̻̮̲̫̦̘̙͉͔͓̗̜̱̎̾ĥ̴̢̧̠͕̰̹͈̼̹͍̖̈͗̄̃̎́e̸͇͖͈̼̱̜̠͇̤̭̎̆͛̾̎͊͑̏̒̒͜͠ ̴̛̱̘̎̾̈͆͆̂̉͛̈͑̊s̸̳̜͑̀͌͛̈͐̈́͛̉̈́͠ͅo̸͍̩̬̯͖̱̦̼̝̤̗̝̣̭͊r̴̙̭̓̂̅́͠t̸̢͕̞̘͈̮̭͖̝̪̙̖͎̘̿̈́͐̽̄̌́̋̈́̃̃͝ ̷̧̡̡̛̯̝͕̳͕̫͖̥̦͓̹͑̈͝o̷̞̦̽͆̎̌͆̈́̎͐̋̒̈́̒̚͜͝f̸͖̦͎͓͒̃̔̈́͛̀̋͘.̶̛̤͇̱̂̀̆̇́̊̎́̎̌͆̏͘.̴̨̢̡̧͔̭̳͇̗̆̎̓̃̾̈́̎̂̀̿͝͠"̶̠̓͑͊̒̔
̴̼̪̬̒͌̑̏̆̂̽̋̿̑̂̄́
̵̢̛̣̝̼͉̺"̴̖̭̺̜̺̫͙̮̠̺̝̎̍̔̿́͝Ḩ̷̧̛͕̬̲̩͚̬̇̃̓͒̂e̶̳̟̼̲̣̤̟̺̤̻͛͑̀͝͠ͅ ̵̣̗͖̺̮͓̭͚̗̏̉̍͆͂̀̄̄͋̓̄͠͝͝s̴̪̝̠̳̘̱̮̟̳̰̕̕͠͝͠ẽ̶̦͍̹͈̀̍̅̀̾̈́̀̽͛͋̉͒t̶̨̨̧̠̭̗̹̃̅́̽͗͌̈́͜͝͝͝ ̷̛̹̭̦͔̙͑͌̌̆̀͑͆̌͝a̵̡̤̣̥͈̳̖͚̗͛̄̂̉̔̊͘̚ ̵̢̧͔͍̳͇̠̪͉̎̀͂̀̂̿͊̊̀̏̄̕̚͝ͅc̵̖̹̺̪͈̘̥̟͙̯͕̥͆̈́ą̸̟̱̮̘͆̇͆̔̈̕ḿ̴͖͔̙̺̥̓̃͋̇͝p̸͓̭̻̒́͐͆͜f̶͕̟̟̟̾̀͐i̵̢̗͎̜͇̻̠̫̜̞̣͇̣͈̒̌̓̓̄͌r̷̯̺̖̫̯̀̉̀̌́̌͒̇̑̑͗̍̕͘e̶͖̓̓̇̿̀̈̍̈́̄͆͠ ̴̢̢̛̛̖̼͓͉̝͇̓͛̓͋̔̒̒͠͠i̵̛͕̟̯͉̅̆̔̅̂́̕͝n̷̡̗̦͐̇̒̈̕͝ͅͅ ̷̪̈́̽t̵̢̢̛̠̭̘̼̣̙̽͋̑̅̀̿̔͋ͅh̷̡̡̡̨̝̺͙͕̪̮̪̮̓̀͝ͅe̴̼̿ ̵̹̅r̵̢̢̻̻̭̠̤̟̞̀̑̅͒͆̉͑̉̈͌̀̆͠ỏ̵̡̢̙͍̞̒̂͒͊̃͂̀̍͗͂̑͝͠ͅo̵̹̭͊̓̿͑̈́͆͑͗̔̉̈́͘m̶̜͉̣̦̪̼̂́̆͌̐͂̈́̎̎̀.̵̳̼̹͕̺͎̝̬͔̉̄̚"̶̺̘̖͍̬͇̹͔̲̋͊̃́͋
̶̱͕̰̖̘͇͈̫͎͓͈̱̓̓͊̀
̶̧͍̤͍͎͎̈́̏͌͌̒̋̀͛͂͆̐͐͝͠"̶̢̡̞̱̮̞͚̟̓̚X̵̧̛͍̯̟̭͑̋ͅI̶̧̦̥̠̳̯̬̾͑̃̉͊͗̓̽́́̍̕V̵̡̨̛̳̮̼̩̻͍͔̞͍̓́͊̊͠ͅͅ!̵̧̳͎̖̈́̃͒ ̵͙̘̤͕̘̱̙͍̮̏̽̎̔̃̿̔͒̿̚͝ ̸̤̇͒͜D̵̼̞͖̄̎̇̊̈ǒ̵̢̝̹͉̹͈̻̞͎͉͕̬̇͜ṇ̷̡̨̝͚͔͚͙̜̓̐̎̽͒̈́̏͆̉̈͝'̵̰̀͐̀̎͐̌̃̿͝t̴̥̮̟͎͕̲͙̗̰͗̒̊̓ͅ ̵̡̨̖̯̥̫̩̖͚̞͇͚͒͜s̷̢̛̠̳̙̖̭̰̜̮̈́̔͋̂̿̃̀̔̈́̕͜ń̸̰̪̞͍̥͚͖̥͖͇̎ì̷̡̤̘̓́͐̀̔̑̓̔͘t̴̥̟̳͕̥̭̹̩̂̈̌͐͊͋̆̔̂̋̈́̆̚c̷̨̡̦͎̤̖̘̲͗͛̏̓͌̇̓͋̚͜ͅĥ̵̫͉̟͇̟̼̖̖̏͌̇̏̀̅̀̅!̴̫̱͇̌̌͌̋̈́͊͊̓̓̿͛̓"̷̡̧̟̫̦̮͙̑̓̏̒
̸͙͔̲̰̖̪͐̋͑̀̓́̀͆͌͆̐̎͛͘
̷̨̙̱̞̗̇̂̉̑̿̎͗́́͝͠ͅ"̴̧̧̢͇̬̱̹̋̾̽I̷̹̮̘̞̱̗͉̖͎͗̀̐̂͒͒̽̀͑̅͘͜s̵̨̩̻͕̙̤͌͝n̸̛̫̭̰̮͈̼̩͋͗̃'̷̛̘̺̝̖̒̋̽̽͊̀͋͗͂̈́̕͝t̵̨̹̳̳̫̼̭̀̍͒̆͑͐̋͂̔̾͐͘͜͝͠ ̵̢̡̻̝͎̣̼̊̓̿̆̂̄̅̓̉͊͒͘ͅt̷̡̯̦̭̻̲͎̄̾͑̊͆́̌̋͜͝h̴͈̪̭͔̳͎̠̩̣̓͂̄̐̀͊͑̉̄̅͋̍͘͠ͅḯ̷̧̛̙̝̖̰̘͙̟̱́͛̉͜͝s̸̟̄̊̌͑̄͒͒̑̾̓̆̉̕͠ ̸̜̭̰̞̺̄̓̚p̴̨͔̖̞̰̰̼̔͂̀̍̀̓̈́̓͌͘l̴̨̧̻̘̼̣̻̝̩̘̫̺̼̓ḁ̴͈̱̇͒̾̆͌̽̽̾́̇͂͠͠͝c̵͖̲̥̲̮͕̼̭̜̍́̀̌̿̆͝ȩ̷̗̤͔̘̖͇͙̺̩̬̍͊̎͋̿̊̒ ̴̯̱̦͒͆̄̊̋̌̓̈́͊͑s̶̟̖͙̯̟͛͆̂̉̃̓̇͗̉ü̵͋͊̈́̑́̀͒̏̎̇̎͜p̷̢͙̗̳͓̬͚̻̜̠͖͓̠̑́̒̀͆ͅp̶̢̮̜̮̗͎̦̬̪͓̝̞̦̓͛̅́́̀͆̅̅́͜͝͝ȍ̷͈̄́̐̅̒͗͛̌͠ş̵̞̥̮̝͐͑̒̐͐̐̌̿͗̾̚̚̕ḙ̴̞͙̯̥̙̻̏̅̐̃͂ͅḋ̵̡̡̼̫̻̭̯̳̣̫̰̃͝ ̶̨̢̨͕̹̤̙̳̤̪̙͙̥͓̑͆̐̽̾̈́́̊̈́ţ̵̰̪̝̱̝̙͇̞̫̠̟̻̊̚o̴̪͓͛̽̏̐̓͐͛ ̶͔̞̏̏̀͒b̷̢̖̻͕͈̣̥̭͖̭̮̪̞̠͆̆͆̈́̒̔̏̊̒̍͑͒̀e̴̹͈͇͙̩̯̮͖͍̠̙͇̽͊̏͒̍̅̍̾͐̈́͘͠ ̸̲̼͕̟̭͓͒͒͑͑͝a̵͍̹̝̞̲͚̪̹͍̯͋̀n̵͚͈͈̔̌͒̃̔̑̈̄̍̀̚̕̚͝ ̵̡̧̡͍̞͇̤̥̽̅̓̅Į̷̛̯̳̫̽̾͊̋̈̿̽m̸̳̫̯̱̼͑̉͛̉̎̃̑̾̓̎̀̇̋͌m̷͇̹̝̫̻͔̟͑̑͛̈̅͐̅͛̓̃̏̚̕o̴̼̫̘̖̺̼̪͌̃̇̐̄̄̓̎͊̚͜ṽ̵̼͊̈́͛͗̕͝a̸͈̖̙͇̰̮̝͍̹̮̰̣͎͆͋̇̊b̷̼̻̦̳͂l̵̛̝̠̊͊ę̴̧̛͉̞̙̙̰̤̻͙̫̓͑̐͛̇̂͗ ̷̨̧̛̰̤̯͔̩̥̼͈̈̑̏̑͌͒̓͛̎̋Ǫ̴̯͋͐̑̅̓͐͆̈́̅̍͠ͅb̸̗͈̫͍̘͕̖̰̝̟͔̦̃͐͋͌̂̕̚͝͝j̶̡̨̝̟͍̮̰͉̩͕̿̂̈̐͛̄͘e̶̙̱̝͔͗͑̿̋͑̿͛̅̈́͝c̴̩̪̙͓̟̘̰͈͖͙̒̾̓̿͗̏̂͑͛t̷̪͖̹̖̩̭̻̯̬͗̎̿̀̀́̅̉͗͠?̵͈̍͑ ̸̧̤̬̖͙͓͚͎͗́̊̿̅*̵̝̘̣͔̖̫̎̀̅͠c̶͖̫̻̳̫̟̹͉̪̘̙̼̈́̆̂́̾̾̈̋͝ơ̵̬͚̂̋̌͌͒́͊̈̀̕͘ȕ̵̧̧̟̘̫͇͍̹̙͕͖̥͈̒̿̋̄̾̽͜g̸̨̬̮̰̼͍̜̺̓̎̾͘͝h̵͙̮͍̣̖̪͇͎͇̞̝̐̆̓́͊*̴̢̻̣̙̙̖̙͇̪̞̗̦́̅͗̾́̓̽̍̄̈̏͑̀ ̴̖̼̺͍̪̣͚̰̑̆̐̈͋̏͋̉̾H̴̹͖̞̯̹̠̮͔̣̥͓̳̊̄̊̔͝ͅͅo̸͖͑͌̈́̓w̷̨̛͕̐́́́̀́̄̏͠͝ ̶̨̥̱̙͖͚̎̀͑͘̚į̸̫̫͔̼̗̫͉̞̋̃s̸̘̬̜̣̱̞̗̹̆͘͜ ̷͚̠̼̦̯̻̬̰̩̥̲̯̎̆͆̕͜͝ĩ̸͍̘̠͓̙̦̺̹̱̯̦͑͗̊̿́͠ͅt̷̫͖̦̰̪̙̝͈͊̄̈́̎̇̏͒̃̔̋͒͝ ̶̙͆́ȯ̴̢̢̧̡̘̻͍͔̦̻̲͍̪̅̄͊̂͋͝ͅn̸̛̮̗͙̠̞̮̩̈͗̎̔̈̎͗͝ ̶̨̛̝̥͉̬͉̻͔̲̩̦̻̺̙̂͂͂͂̔̓̚̚͝f̶̨̧͖̯̳̙̫̈́̊̊̄̅̎̄̔͝į̵̛̙͖̻̻̹̹̼͆͂̑̈́̕r̶̢͓̻̖̝͈̗̮͊ȇ̶̳̳̲̞̑̏̈́̀̀͂̿̇̐?̵̖͌̾͒͌̂̐͗̅̍͐͋͘͝͠"̴̮͍̀̑̀͐̅͂̾̈́̽̀̀́̓̕
̷̡̢̻̦̹͙̪̝͕̖͇͆̅̈́̑͠
̵̨͈͎̯͖̥͎̈̌͑̈́̓͋͛̋̊̈́̀̎͐̚͜"̸̧̛̩͙͍͔̪̦͇̜̰̝̏̇̉̏͜͝I̷̢͙͇̹͔̱͇͊̍̉̽̅̇͗́̂̄͠͝ţ̸̝̞͈̞̗̘̉̈́͑'̴͕̹̤̱͔̱̲̬̳͋͌͂̌s̷̡̢̼̹̔̉͛̃̾̽͜ ̷̢̫͈̖̗̪͔̥͔̟̯̈́̋̓̉́͝n̸̡̧̛̹̰̥͇͓̭͕̈̔͑́͑̎͜ơ̷̢̝̤̮̺̭̥͛̂͂̿͗̀͂̔̌̉͘̚͝ț̸̰̭̼̗̮͉͙̀.̸̢͔̓̑̏̊͝.̵̻̬̭̫̜̰͔͉̖̞͈̌̍͆̂̂͒"̶̨̬̩̗̠̻̬̺͙͒͂͜
̴̮̮̣̭̩͇͈̹͉̫̜͉̈̍͗̌͋̓̈́̾͋͆́͜͝
̶͎͍̲̘͎̰̭̼̪̹̪̑̃̈́̈̈́̑̑̓̐"̵̨͍̬̦͇̗̺̬̝̺̜̠͒̽͋̅̋̐͘ͅẀ̷̪̦̳̂̓͜h̴̟̙̼̹̙̬̯̰̘̖̝̀̉̊̑̌͂͌̄̓͗̚̚͘͜͝â̷̮͓̬͎͓̫͍̮̞̊̒̉̒́̓̓͜͝t̷̢̤̖̺͔̣̲̮̠͗͌̉͊͐̒̋̃̊̃̔͛ͅ ̴̥̺̫͚̙̪̦̱̘̆́͗͊̿͐̍̇͒̅̂̚͜͠d̷̬̟̬̲͓̀o̵̡̨̹̰̬̗̬̳̥͕̻̳͕̽ͅ ̶̨̠̗͍̗̜̜̰̻̱͉̖̦̌͆̅̓̀̾͛̏́̏y̷̨̬̺̩͈̪̠̪̟͕͒̍̍́̀̃͛͌̃́͆̚̚͝o̵̢̦̣̖̊̄̅̅͂͜u̵̪̿̾̉̿̔́͗͆͝ ̴̢͍̯̺͙̩̻͙̋́̋͑̈́͋̎͐̋͋͐m̷͇̯͕̝̳̫̓̄̅̐̆͆̽̍͐̇͗̚͘͝ę̷̮͚̫̪̼̣͍͖̠̒̅̌͘ͅa̸̤̗͑n̴̠̱̤͇͇͔͕̖̜̣͙͖̽̔̎̒̕͜͝͠ͅ?̴̨̣̰̦̪͇̩͎̬̣̺̍̀̂͑͂̄͊̃̊͌́̔̄̃ͅ"̶̗̬̓̇̅̿̄
̵̢̢̢̭͉̞̮̯͍͍̜͎̖͔͋̀̌͐
̵̢̛̠̟̪͗̈͛͂̑̀̚͝͝"̴̯͔͔̳̲̑̉̈́̈́̎͂̓̾̈́̃̾̌͒͝T̵͉͈̭̤̯̞̖͖̜̯̠̦̥͊̚ͅḩ̶̡̛̥̬̮͖̬̠̠̬͎͙̃̄́̀͒̽̃̈́͐̆̋͝͠e̴͈̥͈̤̥̥̘̩̦̺̮̔̉̔͛̓̊͘ ̸̧̳̩̫̖͈͕͈͓̣̟̞̅͗͝s̴̪͍̮̝̼̬̘̗̳̤͐͊̓͌̃́̋̉̿͒̕͠m̷͕̦̳̃͐̓͐̄͋ǫ̸̘͚͆̃̄͋̃͛̄̉͌͊͘͝k̷̪̱͙̎͋ȩ̴͚̦̠̘͖͍̺̑̈́̏͆͆͑̚͝ ̸̡̢͎͚̳̝̩͎̩̫͙͕̘̏̽͒̏͘͜j̴̢̗͎̝̮͉̓́̿͝u̵̩͖̬̦͕̰̰̱̮̭͌́̊̎͛̽͊͐̔s̷̢̯͖̖̮̺̭̖͊́̂̀̓̄̏͌̇̾̋̒̕͜͝t̵̠͔͇͓̂͒̾̄̀̔̄̄̏͝ ̴̧̨̮̖͈̪̯̮͍̪̤̂̈́̐͆ḑ̶̛̛̩̺͕̤͈̝̰̝̣̯͊̀̑̂̉͘͘͝o̵̞͙̟̙̭̲͓̣̘̻͈͂̂̅̎̾͒͘͝͝͝e̷̢͇̬̠̲̗̭̼͈̰̮͉͙̼̽̄͛̾͛̓̅̂̓̍̿͆͘s̵̡̧͙͚̜̩̺̮̙͛n̴͙̦̯͍̲͉̹͇͖̣̩͗̓'̸͉͉̣̯̳͖͋̊̒̾͌̕͜t̵̛͔̝̳̒̉̅͌̄̎͗͒̕͠ ̵̢̻̜͕̜̲͖̗̐́̓̀̈̃́̊̇̽͒͋̕͝h̵̨̙͙̑a̷̡͚̞̦̩̥̾̒͑̌͊͒̀̆͐̔̕͠v̴̖̠̰͇͕͕̯̮̈́͂̏̉̓ȩ̵͓̭̭̼͍̪͉̬͕͎̟͓̈́͛̌͌ ̶̤̖͕̌̒̔͋̈͐̒͐̋̌͝͠ą̷̨͉̖̹̺̮̹̓̓̉͒͝ń̵̹͉̹͇̳̩̣͛ȳ̸̲̘̳̤̿͗̌̌͐͒́͝ẇ̷̡̜͕̞̥̙̳̽̍̀͆̓̾̇̃͊̋ḥ̵̡̡̭͉̥̤̞̜̜͛̿͋̂̀̉̈́̆̍̚ͅe̴̛͕̜̖̪̤̯̣̫̎̓̇̈̔̽́̈́̉̈͌͗r̵̥̥͇̲̫̦̺̥̮̭̈́͒ͅe̴̛͎͖̰̜̱̭͔̼̜̎̓̈́́͊̀̾̈́̈́̾̐͠ ̶̢̡̢͚̠̯̈́̇̓̏̏̈̆ţ̸̧͇͖̜͕̭̼̳̭̮̹̬̆̅̋̊͜o̵̢̢̪̦̪̳͌̂̏̎͝͝ ̴͍͇̞̟͎̣́̈́̚͜g̵̣̬̬͚͋̀̀̾̔̔̅͐͊̉͝ǫ̶̗̣̮̹̱͑̌̀̋̐͂͛̾͂͑̃̍̈́́͜.̴̙̤̝͗͆͑̐̈́̎͘"̴̡̨͍̲̟̭͉̪̜͚̩͇̗͈̉̍̀̈́͊̑̍̀̓
̶̧̫̤̦̗̹͔̫̩̀
̵̥̙̣͔̤̜̂̅̍"̸͇̫̤̙͎̦̲͉̬̜͎̦̏͑͂̔̏̄̀͝ͅT̸̛̠̭͇͓̐̽͐́͐̓͝ḩ̷͍͔͙̮͇͐̐́͋͛ͅe̵̢̢͇͖͓̮̳̪̬͋̔͌͒̀͆͊̉͂̅͋̕͜n̴̤̰̞̝͈̯̣̂̓̕ͅ ̶̨̡̡̥̗̮͉̙̼̹͈̒̿͌̑̾͛͘ö̵̯́̓́̎̐͒̋͐̇̀͐̃͘ͅṕ̸̡̘͙͈̟̼͙̣͎̫͔̞̬̣͐̽̂̌͘ẹ̴̡̛̭̰̦̠̤̘̲̐̔̓̊̂̍̎́̑̐͐̎̓ň̵̢͔̯̣͖̓̓͑͛̄͊̉͛̃̚ ̸̦̻̻͊͛̈̒̒͆̾̌͊̈̓̊̂a̴͍̖̬̺̞͖͋̃̇̍̓ ̵̠̮̠̗̈́̈́̈́͌̏̍̅̽̿̾͌w̵̤̩͙̜̉ì̵̧̛̠̰͎̲̭̼͈̻͍̺̇̒̃͌͗̂̆̍̿̋͜͜ṇ̸̨̨̛̪̫̠̗͉̠̖̗̗̺͈͂̃̋̉d̵̹̞̮̫͚͗̍̀̂͊͗͒͑̈́̓̚͠͝ǫ̵̛̫͚̮̦̝̪̌̑̍͐̽̃̉̽͘͝͝w̶̤̹̪͕̩͍̃͘̚!̴̡̡̫̺̞̤͎͚͍͊̿̓̓͂̎̚͜͝͠͝ͅ ̶̡̞̼̖̙͚̀̇̾̾͋̿̂̈͝ ̸̠̔̅͋́̌͌͛͑̄͒́̾*̴͔̤͓̲̫̮̻̔͗ç̴̢̨͓̰̩̰̪̮̲͙̻͕͈̈́̉ǫ̶͇͉͔̠̩͖̩̫̑͋̅͗̈̈́̀́̂̆͠͠u̶̥̞̻̩͚̹͈̣͓͈͈̔̓́̋́͛͒ĝ̸̥̹̟̥͈̳͙͍͇̏̏͗̅͌̃͒͊́͘̚͠͠h̴̨̫̺̲͉̥̫͉̥͚̀͗̾͛̈́̋͗̑̒͗͑̉*̷̪̪̬͖̥̝̦͌̋̓̏̈͑̒̆̈͂̐̌̐͜c̶̢̡͍̘̫͈͎͇͂͑͑̓̀͛̈̃̐̓̚ő̸̢͓̘̲̜̪͖̺̠͚̋͜ų̷̧̘̥̖̜̯͚̲̰̹͖̻̪̾g̶̛͕̭̖̬̟̟̀̄̋͗͒̍̓̊̂̋͗̀̚h̵̲͇̠̃̊̋͆̊̚͜͠*̵̞͇̜͚̭̰̉́̽̆ͅ ̸̰͎͚̝̦̻̩͉̖͎͓̼͓͕̄̊̈́̉̄̓̊̊̂͗͌̚ ̷̛̣͉̫̭͕̘̝͓͖̋̓́̑̕͝Ḃ̵̢̻͊̂͠e̶̦̭̯̯̟̭͆̐̌́̎͘f̸͍̖͚̟̯̉̋̏͠ó̵̤̟́̅͒͆͆̄͝r̵̛̤̭̍̊͂̌͛́̋͛̑̔͘͝ę̸̯̺̜̝͑̌͐͋̽͝ ̷̨̡̺͕͕͔̞̳̠͔͎̱̙̹͛̄̈́̎̓w̴̛͇̪̪͙̽̿̌͂̑̉ͅe̷̜̳̝͕͊̎̀͑́ ̴̡̲͖̯̦̥̥̰̎͐̀̎͌͂̾̒̄̇̏͝a̴̲̦̲̹̭͑̐̄̈́͘l̶̡̧̳͍̜͖̤͊͋̆̈́̀̒̇̒̊̿͌̃̕͜l̸̤͇͔͖̹͙̣͈͚̝͐́ ̴̢̻̪̦̗̻̱̯̘̯̖̺̔d̶͚̒͛͑̇̅͋̍͑͑͒̂̕i̴̭͕̖͙̥͆̐͆͛́̋̇̇͘ͅͅͅė̵̪̮̽ ̷̢̡̧̰̬͔̗̈̌̑̔̆̈́͑̍̈̇͘ͅf̸̫̱̬͔̣̹̗̙̘̑̐̉̄̀͝r̷̨̧͉͇̲̂̽̉̿͋́̕͝o̶̡̧̯̙̠̖̗̗̘̘͓̩͔̘̓̈́̓́̿̂̅̑̉͊̌̊̆m̶̢̳͚͈̗͉͎̘̪͑̀̈́̒̊́̈̀͝ ̷̧̢͓̱̖̼̦̦͆̿̂̀s̷͈̻͖̠̲̦͈̮̣̅ḿ̴̡̠͈͔͖̟͉̝̅o̸͚͙͕̍̅̀̋̈́͘̚͜ͅķ̶̪̪̳͔͓̲͔̰͚̻̇̀͐̓͑͗̋̕̕͜e̵̛͓̟͗̌̂́́͝ ̶̙̜͔̠̣̼̼̀̈́̈̃̈́̇̔͜͝͝i̴̛̳͐̎̾͗́͐̐̀̊́̚ṇ̵̣̬̫͉̞̘̹̖̻͓͍͇̀͋̏͐͋̄̋̄́͌̚͜ḥ̶͎̣̬̥̮̻͚͙͖̯̓͗̄̄͗͐͠a̷̢̫̺͔͓̲̪̙̣̥͉̒̀̏̀͒́̃͜l̶̛̩̖̩̻̬͎͕͔̼͕̰̆̏̿̽̾͒̕͘͜a̵͚͔̣̠̬̤̦̅̔͋̾̑͛̄͂̒̊̕͝t̴̡̫̬̤̺̭̊̓̋͜í̷̟͖͚̝̺̣̝͓̼̬̥͕̗̳͂ỏ̸̻̦̖͔̻̬͚̣̘͛̔͋̃̓͆͌͘͝n̴̢̛̞̣̹̯͖̘̓̿́̎͛̈́̽̌͋͠.̴̨̢̳̯̼̙̦͚̭̳̱̭̌̀̿͐̏̍̒̍̈́͐́̎͊̈́ͅ"̵̛̛̻̜̙̲̜̜͉̜̂͊̓͠͝
̶̨̡̌̊̋
̸̟̲̫̹̉̊͆̎͋͒ͅ"̵͔̃̄̇̒̍R̸̦̦̱̓̿̑̃̇̂͝͝e̴͉̞̐̄̊́͆̈n̵̙̬͙͈͈͊̈́̓̍͗͊̓͊̔͘̕͠͠h̵̡̧̭̼̾̾̌̈́̆͆͗͘͝o̴̧̺̞̯̗̯͊̽͑͂͋l̵̨̧͔̤̩̲͇̺̘͚̪̓̆̄̐͗̌͐̇́̄͘͘͜͠d̸̢̳̱̱͚̜́̄̽̓t̸̙͂ͅ,̶̧̺̹͙͔̮̘̿̋̈ ̸̺̮͖̳̦̈̃̄̃͑͑̀̓̍y̵̢̖̭̝̠̳̩̪̪̪̫̳͋̓̎̆o̴̳̗̘͚̥̜̫͚̣̒̍̑̉̾͗͜ṷ̴̢̠̪̘̻̪͇̭̟̭͕̎̏̔͋̋͗̂͊̆̅̀̿'̸̠̊̂̈̈̅̈́͂͌̕͠͝ȑ̵̨̡̢̢̤̪̙̺͚̞͖̤̠̔̑̈́e̷̟͕̘͕̳̒̀͐͆̋̍̐̓ ̴͈͊͆͌ͅn̸̠̭̺̭͉̆͛̎͊̎̃̓̏̃͊͋̚͘o̷̧̢̯͈̱̜̣̹̖̤̐̈̊̄t̴̯̥͚͉̭̜̺̮̯͙̃̓̉̃ ̵̧̦̲̱̳̳̻̝̟̯̬̘̟̃̆͌͛͆̀̈́̔ͅṯ̸̤̻̳̲͊a̶̙̳̩̻̮̜̟̩̜͈̮̦̰̐̍k̵̼̙̙̝̰̠̪͇̳͉̱̈́i̶̧̠̫̓̒͗̊̄́͘n̴̜̪͈͚͉͓̅̒̿͌́̄̉̉̈́̅͘ḡ̶̛̻͙̯͓̞̗͕̳͋̈̉̅ͅ ̷̢͕͙̭̅̔͗̓̆̌̈́ͅͅå̷̼̦̗̺̥̠͚͙͚̘̈́̍̀n̵͍͚̥̲̗̦̙̜̟̾̌y̵̧̹̒͐̅̋̿̈́̔͝͠ ̶̬͔͊͗͛͆̏͌̓̈́͘͝d̸̡̢͇̩̺̦̰̺͍̜͕̈́̌̈́̍̏́͒͒̑͘̕͠ą̷̘̟̗̬̠͔̯̼̬̙̑̒̔̍̊̀̀͐͜͝͝m̷̛̪̼̱̩̻̞̑͋̇̇̄͒͐̃̚̕ͅá̵̡̧͚̩̩̼̖͎̬̘̖̳̼̏̀́͂̉̋̅͑̇̐̿͘̕ġ̷̹̰̥̰͉͕̳̤̠͈̀̃́̀̀͘̚͠ͅe̴̛͓̦̘͚̩͋̊̾̑̾͛͝͝ ̷̧̥͇͕͙̋͑̂̈̿͗͒͐͑͒̚r̵͎͉͛i̶̞̯̮̪͇̩͚̯̦͇͉͍͔̇̎̓̍̽̈́̈́̂͑̾̓̚g̵̨̛̩̞̯͕̜̪͑͒̃̈́̌̀̍̔͋̓̔̑̕͜h̴̨̡͔̪͚̹̦͊̽̋̌͂͊̌t̷̩̞͈̔̋̔̈́͝ ̴̛̱̭ņ̶̢̢͓̝̯͕͍̼̹͍̎̈́̅͊̾̈́̈̊͛̈́͋͠o̵̡̢̭͚̤̫̞͚̠̤̙͊̈́ͅẁ̵̧̧̢̭͎̩͎̟͙͚̝̣̘̂͜.̶̧̧̨̨̡͕̹̟̘̥̦̥̗͌̒̎͌̃̋̍̏͒̀͌̕͜͝ ̷̢̡͙͚͕̣͙͙͚͔̈͆́̀͋̅͂͑̏͛̚ ̴̨̛͎̰̦́͛̎̋̂̈́̂̕̚̕͝I̷̗͇̫͔̟͗̀̈̕ţ̷̡̛̹̙͚͚͈̝̯̼̠̝̀̓̆̽̿̊̄͘'̵͚̖̲̭̹̙͒́̆̆̐͊͠s̷͓̺̹͛̋ ̴̢̢̢͕̬̜̮̟͙̱͉̖̒͊̒j̵̡̛̙͈͍̱͇̼̠͇̫̦̪̩̅̇̐͑̈́̌̇̃̿̓̆͠ư̸̩̼̞̦̲̳̫̐̽͛̂̏͒̉͋͝s̶̰͔̒̾͗͂̇̋̕t̷͍̔̀͆̑̔͘̕̕ ̸̧̢̡̢̡̧̘̜͚̗͓̔̑̀̿͗̓̽̂͜î̸̻̟͔͔̘̩̥͎͚ŗ̷̛̥̫͎̜͕̠͇͔͍͇͔͆͌̿̑́͗̏̂͝ř̷̯̊̓̀̈́́͊ͅi̵̳̞͙̜̲̹̓̀̅̏̅̒̽͗̾͆̔͘͠͝ẗ̸̫́̔͌̊͂̓͑͆͛͝͠a̴̡̡̡̧̙͖̺͖̱͚͆͋́̒̚t̶̡͙̤̹͔͚̬̎́̇̇̂͘i̴̭̖͇͉̳̻̥̦̮̮͔̻͊͛̾̈́̑̍̓̓̐̎n̷̡̢͇̟̤̦̭̖̦̩̭̜̩̿̒͐̾̑ģ̴̖̻̭͇̲̥̗̫͉͊̈́̑̄̐̾͑͋͗̆̓͝͠ͅͅ.̶̧͈̳̖̗̙̥̺̮̩̲̔̃͌̓̌̍͝ͅͅ"̵̦̗̻͋̑̆̋ͅ
̸̧̤̣̣̈́͂́̆̊̿̆̑͝
̴̢͙̭͙͎͗̐̇͋̌̚͠"̶̤̟̯͍̫̩̳͋̿̈́̾͌̅̉̒̎͒̓D̵̢̐͗̓̕͝ả̶͈̯̑͑̇̆̅̃̿̾̕͝͝͝m̶̧̥̞̤̙̄͒͑̓̂́ͅͅn̴̛̼̼͓̼̼͙̏̓̑̄̊̈͝͝ ̸̧͔̮̗̺̝̰͕̬͉̖̟̱̏͊͂͌s̵̢͈̪̺̰͔͖͕͕̝̆͒͂̾͛̑̚͘t̶̨̹̼͖̜̭̆̎̚͜͝ŗ̴̛͔̮̻̪͈̻̹̠͈͉͈͉͗̂̓̀͊͐̎͊̊̚à̶̠̤̝͔̖͍͉̱ì̵̺̥̲̳̪̩̤̖̫̝͊̈́͛̍̅̒̃͘g̷̛̠̩͓͔͈̥̮͎̝͙͙͐́̃̐̄̀̔̈́͒́͂̕͜͜ḫ̴̙̬̄̏̊̂̆̓̓̎t̶̺͖̊̈́ ̶̡̙͇̖͓̫̘̥̓̃́̅͑̃̉̾̐͝ĩ̸̧̡͓̘̘̮̻̥͔̳̾̓́̈́́͜ţ̷̟̜̪͚͉̻̼̟͕̞͑̈̆̊͘'̸͎͕̥͐̈ş̷̛̱̦̦͔͔̘͉͇͒͌̎̈́̓̀̅̐͌͂̿͑̓ ̶̛̼͈̰̗̪̪͎̞͆̈̓͒i̵̧̙̦̬̩̘̘̯̮̬͇͂̇̓̈́̀̿̌͒ͅr̵̝̮̟͔͔̫̒́̑̃̀̎̒̂͂͝͝r̶̹̪͉͍͚̗̺̮̞͔̻̖̱̭͗́͑̓̐̑̈̚ḭ̵͆̑̈̂̀̋̍͛͛͂͐̅̈́̚ţ̶̗͕͔̰̹̝͊̔̔͜͜ą̸̨̹̼̤̯͕̬́̀t̸̢͖̯̹̯̝̂͊͂̋̌͝ì̶̡̱̲̥̮̦̮͕̹̩́̐̍̆͜ͅn̷̥̖͆͑g̸̡̛͇̩̳̜̙̗̙͎͋̐̃̐̕,̷͈̤̙̯͚͇̗̮͙͒̓ ̸̛̗̻͕̟̲͌̇͂͂n̶̛̜̭͊̊̀̄̏̀͑̕o̷̢̓̓͠w̷̛̟̱̥̎͊̈́̔̈̉̌ ̸̦͍͍̠̻̠̳̰͙̲̼̭̣̈̌̌̈́ͅg̶̛̜̰̬̻͔͉̘̤̭̞̈́̅̾͛́̈́̉̎̓̚ȇ̵̗͕ţ̴͉̩̹̯̃͌͐̊̾͂̃͊͗̐̌̓͝͝ ̵̥̈́͑͆̾̿̈́̚r̷̪̺̔̐͐͒̑̈̏̉͛i̶̮͈͉̬͖̠̲͕̖͆̆̽̑̓̃̆̒͜d̴̢̛̪̖̤͎̬͔̗̲̤̪̥̝̔̇ ̵̢̠̫̹̭̜̘͛̀̂̓̅̒̃͐̋̋̿͝ͅǫ̵̦͖̼̝̦͊̐f̵̧̨̬̀̓̚ ̸̜̭̰̫̻̻̙̮̙͂̍̋̋͋̍́͛͗͘͝t̷̛͍̍̉͐́͑͗͂́̋̕͠ȟ̵̨̝̱̟̟͍̙̤̼͖̝̌͜ę̴̡͈͈͓̠̲̩̱͙̓̓̉͂̌̒̂̂̑̕ ̵̲̌͆̄͐͜f̵̧͓̻̟̤̪͙̯̲̜̫̹͇̋͒̑̈́͊̍͊͊̀͑́͋̚͝i̵̡̫͖̻̠̘̝̤̜̠͔̝̒̉̌̓͆͗̌́̇ͅr̵͍̱̭̔̚e̵̢̢͈̦͎̲̰̟̅̅͆̾͗̐̎̚ ̵̧̮͖̩̭̲̳̠̥̣̀̏̅̐̕͜ą̴͖̜̜̽̊̆́l̵̯̖̅̈́͌͌̎͛̋̎̋̚ř̴̩͚͕͔͖̲̗̉ͅͅe̷͍͈̽͂̀̉͐̚͠a̷̧̧̠̹͎̺̤̮̭̞̋͜d̴̨̝̳̞̬̭̩̙̘͇̖̥̑̉̐̔̏́͘ͅÿ̴̯̠̦̣̥́̌͒́̿̊̚!̸̛͎̟̙͍̗̗̩͚̓̓̄̃̚͘͜͠"̸̪͖͎̻͉̝͇̤̦̤͆͋́̅̈́̀̊͑́̒̈́͗͜
̵̲͓̺͉͖̳̈́̄̀ͅ
̵̨̧̠̭̗̦͉̖̤͉̪͗́͋̽̑̇̑̑́͘̚"̵̡̟̹̝͎͉̰̳͔͓̍͊̈́̄̀̾́̓͋̓͘͜͝Ḯ̴̧̳̻̳̓̉̓͂͐.̶̲̹͓̟̝̺̱̂̇ͅ.̶̛͈̩̱͂̃̾͊̍.̵̧̛̖͙̲̩̲̖͕̉̈́͐͆͒̐̂̍͠͝ ̶̧̨̩̲͎̦̖̣̑̊̈́̃̒̇͛͋͗̊̏͛͆̕͜ͅd̸͚͈̱͙̜̻͚̅̆̃͛̉̔̚̕͜ơ̶̧̢̭͇̬̠̯͎͓̜̫̦͉̈́̽̆͒͠ͅņ̴̢̱̠̠̠̫̖̻̦̯̱̱̼̐̀̿͊̉̄̚͘͘̚͝͠'̸̡̡̨̱̩̱̞͈̬̱̦͙͒̇̈̀͠ͅţ̶̜̩͔̦̗̞̪̣̄̄͑̊̚͜ ̶͈̞͈͒͗̇̈́̓͂͝ķ̴̛̪̩̦̬̮̻̪͈͗̇̇͑͑͋̎͝n̸͙͍̜͓̹͖͔̻̾̒͋͒͝o̶̡̤̘̗̖̮̬͋̏̑̀w̷̨̛̟̺̞̗̬̯͈̰͜.̸̨̞͚͔̠̯̺͙͈̞͆͂͋̍̀̉͜.̸̬̹͈͋.̵̧̨̳͈̦̝̝͚͉̝͔̠͂̑̽͑͗̈́͘̕͝ ̸̢̛͍̫̮̳̹͓̻͚̗́̍̌̓͆̈̋͛̒̈́̿͝͝ĥ̸̜̗̏̉͝o̸̧̱̦̗͙̜͂́̌̈́͑ẃ̷̞̦̲̪̥̲͓̮̎̈͠.̸̝͎͍͍̣̊̓.̶̧̛̖̙̘̫͎̦̻̿̓́̋̀̑.̷́̏͐̈̀̕ͅ"̶̥̤͕̣̜͈̣̜͖̔̌̅̀̒͐͆͒̅̉̚͝
̵̫͉͍̰̙̙̺͚͈̲͇̾͆͊͊͛͝
̵̢̢̹̥͇̮̼̰̘̩̀͝"̴̧̺̥͈̖͉͖́̀̎͌͑́̇̌͛͌͝G̸̢͍̮̓̏̾̄́̆̾̾͘i̵̡̡͚͍̗̭̽̋̈́͂̅̏̔͗̕̚v̴̢̦͇͔͎̝͍̥͇̮̟̓͋͐͒̈͛̒̌͐͂͐͆̿ͅͅe̵͓̳̫̅̊̓͂̈́̎͋̃͘̕͠ ̶̣͔̣͕̖̫̩̱̳̫̱̅̓̿ͅm̸̥̑̐̋̽̚ȩ̶͙̺̥̲̙̜̖̟͑̈̈́ ̵̡̨͔̖̭̗̱̝͊͒̾͘̚ͅẏ̶͓̺̙̲̪̲͚̤̼̪̮̹̀̀͌̅͋͠ͅő̶̗̻͉̮̬̜̳̩͐̈́̒̈̀̓̄́͂ų̴̧͙̭̱̼͔̣̳͎̋͒̐͌͗͋̌͠ṛ̵̢̙͍̭̟̖͎͇̪̰̑̇͠ ̵̱̥̪̑͑̅̉̍̑̔̓̾̇͐͘m̴̛̤̮̝͒̈́e̶̛̦̤͔̥̩͍̤̋̐̏͌͒̔̃̐̅͋̅n̷̨̜͉͔̠̍͑̈ͅŭ̵̢̨̢̱̟͍̥̟̩̩̮̙̳̄̒̀͝͠ ̴̜͙̄̑͑̈́̈̊̋̐͂̒͝͠ś̵̬͉̻͈̳͍̻̝̬̘̮̂͘͜͝w̸͎͉͈͈̙͉͉̩̥͙̠͑̿̿͊́̊̚é̷̞͔̼̺͖͍͆͂̓͋̐͂̇̂̌̕ȩ̶̖̤̏́͂͝t̶̡͕̫͇̠͉̼̋̔̊̃̈́̄̾͂͊̊̄̚̕͝ͅi̶̹͓̼̼͌͋̒̏͌͘ẻ̶̢̢̞͔̭̫͉̠̩́̆͗́͠ͅͅ.̶̨̗͔̣̲̀͛̈̍̂̎͝͝ ̷̞̟̗̦̪̟̯̫̎͛̉̽̍͆͛͋̚͝ ̶͚̾̅*̸̢͉̗̰͉̠͔̼̼̥̟͍̌͊́̓̽͛̃͂̅̔̋͝͠t̶͓͎͈͐̃̽a̵̢̳̪͎̳͇̫̙̳̝̰̖͗̀̓̇͊͛̀͂͝͠͝͝p̸̞̓̒͂̕͝*̷̡̧̧̱̫̩͈͎̰͆̈̊̽̈̀̔̔̕͘͝͠ͅṱ̴̢̡̢̟̯̮͔̬͖̝̱̅̊͒̓̇͗̀͌͑͒͌̊̊̕͜ḁ̷̢̛̛̺͕̟͖͉̑̅̈́̑͆́́̊̽p̴̛̹̜̥͈̻̼͖̰̈́̌̊̂̏̈́̓͝*̸͉̭͕̍̍̕͘t̴̨̢͕̯̳͔͇̬̲̜̺̒́͊͠͝ą̴̤̟̟͔̺͔̗͙̦̘͍̏̿̒͑́͛p̴̯̯̗̙͕̈́*̷̛̛̞͓̰͙̩̟͋̊͛̈͂͗͐̍̽ ̵̧̧̰̳̌ͅͅͅͅ ̸͓̟͎̠̰͕́̀͂̌̒̑͂̈́̓̓̂̒ͅṰ̵̨̢̨̤̺̻̻̣̥̗͒̂̊̐̾̓̅̎̕͝h̴͚̥͝ȇ̸̛̦̳̬̠̮̰͓͆̂̀̍̈̀̒r̸̢̬͙̭͚̝͎̮̓̓͜ë̴̢̛̳͍̱̠̣̩̰͚͒̒̇̊̓̃̂͊͊͝!̷̧̳̻͓̤̳̼̱͎̬̞͙̜͗̾͊͛̓̋̍͂̏͑͘͠ ̸̞̘̭̦͍̺̠̮̬̪̒̀̄̍̐͗̈́͝ͅ ̶̼̹̈́́̚͝F̵̛̝̗̲̣͔̳̫̦̼̅̓̊̾͂͌́̓̒̆͝į̶̲̝͙̺͔͖̙̞̦̰͙̮̇͋̊͌̿̀̆̓r̶̜̒̀͝ȩ̸̮̤̟̭̝̘̥̠̹̈́̆'̷̢̤̯͉̘͈̣̱̞̑̔̀̌̓̀̍̓̈́̀̄̒̕͝ͅs̵̰̪̳̟͙̻͖̅̂̏͋͂̆ ̸̨̠̱͉̟̜͔̰͍̹̪̱̇́̓̄͠͝ͅg̷͍͓͎͂̍́̿̒̔̿̉̈̚͘͘͝͝ơ̷̠̱̞̤̒̑̏̅̐̕͜͜n̷͎͔͇̗͓͇̬̫̯͍̬͚͔͋͐͂ȩ̷̯̜͖̙̱͎͉̒̋͌̉̒͒̍̑̅̔̕͜.̴̆͌̀͂͐̏̈̒̈́́̕͜"̷̡̣̠̞̙̫̗̙͙̼̰͙̑́ͅ
̷̮͇̙̳͉̳͒̆̃͜
̵̨̛̳͈͔̺̓͗̊̉̔͛̑͝͠"̸͇̰̘̺̜̯͍̻̼͙̃̓̒̂̑̊̒̀̈́̄͛̀̏*̶̳͖͎̘͑̀̆̀̓̒̾̈́͠š̴̡̢̢͚͉̰͉̭̺̤̳͍̝͇o̵̩͍͋̆͂̽̽͝͠u̵̡̧̲̰͙̤̦̓̅n̶̮͛̈́̐̈́̈́̾̉̽͝d̸̢̡̛̛͎͎̬͉͇̮̰̰͓̩̋̌͛̈́͌͌͐ ̶̧̢̪͓̤̦̫̳̞̻͑͂̎̈̓̾͛̊o̷͔͈͙͖̫̐̏̅͋͋̈́̋͆͐̈́̕f̶̛̻̰̻͉̦̤̮̘̫͑̒͆͊̓̍͘͜͝ͅ ̶̛͈̪̰̣͎̟̔̎̆̈̄̈́ẉ̶̢̞̗̭͇̻̟̦̻̋ͅį̸̹͍̀̈́̊͂̍̓̀̎͘͝͝n̷̛͓̈̓̂̂̉͂̕͝ḑ̴̝͚̤͗̈́̇͛̉̿̏̍̀̿̎̚ͅo̵͇͚̘͖̔̆͌̔̇͂̀́̂͋͊͑͋͘ẇ̵̨̪̞̭̆̾̈͛͐̃̿́͑͘͠ ̴͔̣̪͈̦̀̀̿̚ǫ̸̨̹̲̥̪͍̻̫̹̋͊̾̎̉̃͌̿̀͒̑̕̚͠p̵̨̡̝̘̟̭͚̜̲̳̈́̒͐̈̄͆͆̇͊̚͝͝͝ͅȩ̴̛̻̠̝̹̙̰̏̓̈́̌͜ň̷̛̜̹̟̼̟̫̥͐̐̋̂͘͘͝ì̸͍̹̥̠͕͚̰̳͇̾̿̅́̎͊̂̓͂̄̆͆͘͜n̶̡̧̨͕͇͙̞̖̦͛͗̃̉̊͘̕͜ͅg̵̥̀̒́̄̏̐́̄̿͑̉*̴̬͈̭͔̿͋͂̅̒̋͑̓̃̈̐͊͌͘ ̶̪͈̖̭̦̩͉̗͎̬̍͊̏͌͑̚͘͘ ̶̨̧͎̟͈͚͔̙̱̣̠̗̘́F̴̛̹͙̣̩͐͆̐̈̇́͋̅͘R̶̜̭̤͓̰̮̒͆͊̔̈́̌̈́́̑̊͂͛͝͠E̵̪̮͚͓͕̠̽̈́͛̍̄̀̐̈̽̐̊͌̕ͅS̷̡̬̜̤̖̤̗̗̞̿́̀̅͒̊̋́̈́̚H̶̢͉̼͓͓͛̈́͑̽̄̋̌͊̋͘͝ ̴̡̝̫̘͍̦̜͈̥̤̿́̏̐̓̊̋̐̿Á̸̡͈̱̠͍̗̗̼̬̤͍͈̯̲̍͒͐̏̈́͛̇͐͐̓͝I̴͔̝̼͂͑͂͌̐͜R̴͎͚̜̳̼̪͈͉̦̿̈́͜!̸̬̻͈̦͎̼̭͖̋̽̇̍͌̏́͝ͅ!̶̡̛̫͌̓̇̓̍̔"̷̹͔̰̙͔͔̼̝͂̏͊̿́̐̾͂̏̆̇̆͝͝

 ..he couldn't quite remember.

There wasn't much else to do, except lay down and watch the torch light illuminate the spray of the waves.  He couldn't handle all the running around he had to do these past couple of days.  Maybe he was getting on in years?  Nah, that couldn't be the case.  Baldur was much older than him and it was evident that the samurai was much faster and more powerful than the hunter.  Was it all the mental exhaustion that was taking place?  He slept last night, so it shouldn't be that.  There wasn't any proper reasoning that he could think of.

Or.. was there?

His thought process was interrupted when the feint voice of NIGHT would come back to apologize for being so quiet.  A little chuckle came out from the hunter's lips.

"It's alright.  I didn't figure myself having such a captivating story.  Though, you listened throughout, so I guess that amounts to something."

The story that he had told had gone through some work to get right, as it was all of the events that happened in truth, with a slight redaction.  He tried his hardest to keep his memory loss out of it.  Baldur had said that it was probably best to never relay that to anyone that Hirru couldn't trust.  Although he had told the tale to a few players already, only those that were there on that day, were to hear about his mental issue.  Although, it could be said that he kept some information out, he wasn't lying. The next words that would come from behind him would put a solitary and complicated aspect to his tale, though.

"If it wasn't the boy, but someone I cared for, huh?  That seems.. rather specific.  Although, I can't say for certain why."

The hunter questioned, but didn't give it time to ruminate.  As NIGHT had stepped away from the tree to look into the eyes of the hunter, to gauge how he would responded, the hunter supposed.  He held his chin in between his thumb and forefinger, in a thinking pose.

"Knowing what I do now, would I do it again?"

There was a sense of anxiety that crept up within him, as if the thought that he had talked about this disaster, but all he could think about was one of his trusted allies turning around and saying that they were part of this world..  It suddenly hit the hunter as he thought that.  That was exactly what he told Baldur, Shield, and Beat.  As he didn't have any memories of the outside world, he mostly thought that Aincrad was his world.  He lived on this side, while everyone else wanted to leave; to escape to their real bodies in their own world.  It was why the hunter wanted to find his memories, as he wanted to believe that he too was one of these people.  It drove him mad.  He resented the actions that led up to and that happened after the 23rd boss raid, but..

"Although the circumstances are just slightly different, I don't think a slight difference will change much.  If that situation was to come again, but someone I knew quite well enough that I would regard them under my most cared for or trusted was there, then yes.  I would.  Now, that may be a bit difficult to do now.  As I come to understand some things about the game, some more than others."

He pointed to the green crystals that were above NIGHT's and his own heads.  His smile disappeared as he talked in a much more stern manner.  He tried to push himself against the tree, but the immovable object would not budge past a certain point without hacking it with an axe or blade.

"These signify more than just a player to me now.  They signify those that I can place my trust in more than anything else.  As I can see the green or orange colors and think, 'there is someone that is attached to the other side there.  They value their life as much as I do.  I can trust them to lead all of us to a better future.'  Although, that may be difficult to say after saying that I would protect a construct of the game, or an NPC as they are more fervently called.  They may act like people, and at times become the people that we wish to help.  However, they are designated by this game with a yellow marker.  It immediately designates them as part of this world alone, and that they have nothing that connects them to the other side.  Except for a select few, like Durares, whom was destined to die as a boss, and never appear again; all the rest of them come back at some point.  I can't quite see myself befriending one anytime soon, if they would be able to be reborn and forget all that was."

The hunter realized he was bashing himself more and more, as he talked.  He had forgotten so much, that he couldn't say if he too was reborn in this world, to forget those that came before. 

Spoiler

"̵̧̧̢̺̣̖̤̮͙̩̈̀̒̿̄̌̔̄͒͛̔͊̚͜H̶̨̥͙̙͗é̴̺̭̭͇͍̦y̶̢̛͍̻̟͎̜̲̲̜̘̟̪͉̒̈͊̔͐͛̇̀̽͒͝͝ ̷͚͕͎͇͎͈̬̻͍̏̍̓͂̊͑̒̀̊̽͛͛̊͘H̷̛̪̤̮͇͖͇͚͖͑̒̿͗̑̂̒̂́̿̕ͅi̶̮͇̱̰̞̇̀̍̓͂̀́͑̀̉̈͂̊̚͜r̶̨̛̭̙͙̩͇͖̗͆̒̃̓̿̈́̅̈́͗͠r̷̨̹̙͖̱̞̎̊̽͋͜͝ư̷̡̡͎̝̙̥̥̯̖̻̣̻͙̩͊̋̎̽̊̀̀͌̒̚͜͝.̷̲̜͓̣̘͔̋̒̏͝ͅ.̸̢̛̝̹̲͚̼̗̯̫͍̯̣͈̰̀̌̽̒̑͊̈́̆̉̚͘"̶̡̟̪̤̳͛̋̃͒̽́̏͑́̏̕͘
̵͎̘̄̊̔̽́́̀͊̊͌̚͝
̴̢̧̨̛̦͈̞̖͈̰͇̫͉̳̪̫̑̓͂̀̂̀͐͗͑̃̚͠͝"̷̘̲͚̱͛̍̅̚͘Y̴̥̟̤̓̃̊̃̏̉̍̒̀͝e̵̻̫͆̇̑̏̇́̾̋͐̐á̴͓͙̬̠̋̈́͐̉̎̐͐͜h̷̳͚̲̲̲̱̒̏̚,̸̨̨̛̫̝̞̞̎͛̃͐̅̃̂̔̐̾́̚͠ ̷̼͓̳̤͙̼̘̮̾͊͒̕V̷̨̡̞̟̟̪͔̱̹͎̭͇͎͔̹̾͐̓̾̌̑̊̒͋̆̓͘̚i̷̢͈̟̙͍̠̻̦̣̿̑͑͛̾̔̅ͅͅx̷̰͉̤̻̦̭̙͇́̂ͅ?̴̧͖̖̟̩̆́͆͝͠"̸̧͔̘̳̩̰̟̲̪͍̖̣̗̑͘͠
̷̧̡̲̗͚̘͉̻̙̙́̎͂̅̉̓̅ͅͅ
̴̰̰͇͇̒͒͘"̷̹̠͉̳̺̭͇̤̱͍̱̳̉̍͜͝Y̷̧̛̯̳̳͎̩̩̠̻̩̼̪̪͔̒͑̉̉̒̆̄̚͘o̴̫͎͕̘̎͋̚u̵̖̣̿͗͝.̷̨̨̯̘̜̜̝̫͚̜͙͐̔̉͆̊̏̍.̸̩̯̩̜͔̀̎̿̽̽̄̓̈́͜ ̶̧̮̮̖͉̠̌̆̑̾̽͜c̶̙͚̑͌̍̉́̓͗̀̄̉͒̐͘̕͝a̶̢̱̦̖͛̑ͅn̷͚͈̼̟̺̻̦̰̞̮̖̅̀̀̓ͅ'̷͉̘̼̦́͌ͅt̷̡̛̟̪͓̻̘͙̝̠͍͓̫̀̋̑̿̓͐͘͠ͅ ̴̢̲̺̗̥̬͕̬̺̭̥̀͋̔̍̍̈́̕ͅr̵̜͈̣̮͆͐̈́̄̃̑́͜e̷̡̨̡̧̛̟̮̱̲̘̩̱͔̮̫͒̋̌̍͑̾̊͆̓m̷͙͇̲̑͊̋̓̑͋̇̐̿̾̓̇̂͌͘ę̴͖͉̝̤̗̀̄͛̾̅̽̈́̇͠m̶̧̠̮̬̓͌̏͐̉̓̚b̵̧̘̘͔͚̝̜͍̬̓͑̈́͌̌͂͌͗̅͂̚e̵̺̲̳̭̥͛̃͒̓͊̾͂͘͠r̶̡̢̛̮̞̞̙͉͎͈͈͈̹͖̗̆̈́̌̋͆ ̸̘͂̎̌́͆͛t̴͔̱̃͆̓̔̐̋̑̅͝ḩ̶̡̢̛̭̣̂͂͑ͅë̶̛̛̙́̍͛̅̎ ̴̛̻̑͆̿̂o̷̦̯̘̺̭̠̱̖̼̎́́͋̀͆̾́̃̇́̈́̈́̀̐t̴̢̙̗͖̣̙̩̳̥̣̩̙̠̘̞̔̀̇̆͑̂̚͠͝h̶̯̐̐͋͗̌͒̈́̓̃̃̅͝è̵̝͖͙̮̭̼̫̟̂̒̇̌͒̈̂̌͑̑̔̿̕͝ŕ̴̢̤̺̺̦̩̥̠̌̋̿̿̍̈́̓̔͘ͅ ̷̫̞̃̈̅́́͛̄́̿̾̉s̴̺̰̱͚̩͙̘̣͑̈́̾̎̈͗̈́͛̓͗͑͘ǐ̵̧͑̿̆͊͂̾̃͋̔̍̆̀d̸̻͙̜̐̀̓͊e̶̘͓̓͋͌̓͛̊́͋͝͠,̴̘̇̀̈́͆̈́̆͒̚ ̶̝͓̖͉̻̠͙͕͎̿ŕ̸̛̭̻̜̮͎̯̝͖͇̼̞͕͇͎̀́͐̈͐̑̓̋̉͆̅̌͝í̸͈͚͒͒̃̍g̸̢̬̫̞̬͍̤̰̖͔̳̖͇̯̝̾̀̅̑͋͑̓͋̌̅̕͘̕͝͝h̵̡̜̠̿̽͂̈́̀͛͆̒̒ṭ̵̨̜̝̺͓̹̠͙͔͚̍̌́̊̊̒̊̄̀̎̏̄̚̚̚͜?̷̨̡̧̨̧͖͓̫̜͙̤̫̥̘̺͊"̵͕̼͒̎͛̒̆̎̒̂͌
̵̢̱͎̻͕̜̙̳͈͙͇̪͋͐͒̍̉̀̑̃͌̕͜͝
̷̭̖̣̤̭̫͑̇͊̓̚̕"̷̡̡̜̞͍͉̮̥͎̣̠̯̪̈̃̏̏̀̓̐̇͘͘͠͝͝Į̷̨̻̱̟̲̘̱͈̱̫̬̟̈ẗ̵̤̰̰́̅͗̊͘͝ ̶̝͎͓͓̜̻͚̝͖̗̦̭̋͌̎͋͗̈̽̊ḩ̷̨͕̗͖̜̦̣̰͔̯̮͑̃͆̃̈́̇͌̋̓̋̏́́̌͘͜u̶̢̩͖͉̳̲̞̪͔͙̅̊̓ȓ̵̨͔͔̫͎͇͌̏̇̎̄͊̓͗̄̇̀̚t̸̡̫̜̼̻̰̣͎͚͖͈͛͌͋̓̽̈́̚ś̴̤̥̈́̉̀̂̇͠͝.̷̡͕͓͍͙̻͑̆́̈̒͛̉̉͐͝.̶̧̝̘̞̤̔͊́̉̓͘ͅͅ ̴͖͕̽͑̀̎͛ţ̸̻̗̜͔͈̫̜̝͌͋̄̈́͐̆͊̾̃́̐͜͝͝ŏ̴̤̙̟̄̋͒̀͆́͛ ̷̧̲̞̠̞͚̳̈̀ţ̴̡̧̛̰͇̮͖̤͕̂̅̊͆̋̓́͐̇͜r̴̬̲͚̓͐̊̃ẙ̴̨̬̞̝̘͔͖̙͓͙̦͂͒͐̽̋̃̄́̍͝ ̸̗̖̖̜̩̫̱̺͕̈́̌͗͑͑͂̈́̇̀̄͜a̸̱͑͗́̈́͋̐̐̈̍͝n̵̨̺̗̫̠͚̣̈́́̄̾ͅd̶̨̩͚̦͈̍͆͌̓́̕͝ ̵̻̳̟̦̬̦̼̳͖̓̇̇̈́̿̀͝͝r̷̘͉͕͈̥̄̒͛̓̃̏̇̀͜͜͝ȩ̷̖̫̥͚̩̮̪̯͓̬͓̰͖̰͒m̸̧̢̬͖̝̝̺͇̘̬̜̖͋̀͗̀̈́̿̀͌͆̉̎ę̶̢͕̦͔̯̜̗̗͖͙̭̼̭͓̀m̵̙̮̘̘̜̖͍͠b̵̗͎́̓̌̀͗̉̋́̀̄́͂̕ę̷̢̧̪̣̤̝̖̟̖̯̟̥̈̒̀̐̅͋͂̊͝͝r̴̜̠͊̄͆͒̉̍̈́̑͘ͅ.̸̢̢̲̹͉͉͗̀͗.̷̨̡̧̛̤͓̰̯̯̭̺̫̫̠̜́́͛̏̕̕ ̵̡̢̡̛̠̣̗͈͉͉͎͛̍̓̓̓̀̀͒́̂́̈́̔͜ ̴̖̘̋͑̂̄̃̃̾͗̕I̷̧̡̻͇̘̘̼̫̦̗̅̈t̸̢̨̛̺͎̤̫̰̫͔̪̆̑̇͗̓́́́͋̕͘̕'̴̡̀͊s̷̙̣̞̬̬̪͙͍̅̈́̕ ̵̡̡̢̡̡̠̥͕̲̯̠̳͙̪̈́̈́͗͋̾̀̐̀̈̂̚ṋ̷͎̱̫̯̫̬͎̜̔̐͛͘͜ͅͅǫ̷̣̼̥̥̩̹̠̜̬̺̼̪͈͓͛̂̄̉̓̃͊͛̍̋͠͠ţ̷̳͔̖̟͓̔̈́̓̓̽̂͗̐̽ḧ̶̨̩̥͉́̋̓̎̏͘͠͝ȉ̵̮̮͍̤͇̞̟̰̒n̷̛̩̗͙̰̯̱͎̜̳̲ġ̵̦̉̈́͠ ̵͓̟̫̳̩̹͇̜̤̥̪̻͖͉̔̽̊̽̀̈̌̓̕͘͝ͅb̴̛͇̞͎͆̃̉̿̉̀̅̾̑͌͘̚͠͝u̶͇̗͉̬̰̞̼̳͚̅͑̍̿̋̈́̌͌̉̽̚͘t̸̨͇̞̤̹̱̜̱͇͚̟͈̻͊͛͆̏ͅ ̶̨̜̗̱̯͍̗̞͚̤̭͈͙͎̇̽̄͗̀̇a̴̛̫̍͑͗̃̐̓̀̑͆̍̑̈́͝͝ ̵̱̈͘ĥ̶̨̨̧͉̤̭̳̣̝̦̹̮̇̿̒̎̉̃̓̇͐̕͜ä̵̪̳͓́̈̇̊͐̚͝z̵̨̠͎̱̜͚̰̖̓̓́̑̐͝ȩ̶̢̮͚̬̯̫̣̩̹̥̒͌̇͆͐͛͊̊̂̕͜͝͝͠͝͝ͅ.̴̡͉̞͖͎̘̊͐̾̾͒̐͑̕"̵̧̞̝̪̪͉͙̺͂͊́͛̅̉̐͊̚
̸̡̥̻̤̠̞͙͉̗͎͓̙̐͋̈́͜͜
̶̮̘̮̔͗̒̒̈́̏̍́̔̍͑̇̏̇"̶̳͙̱̮̜̙̐̉̈́̉́̋S̷̥̞̦͌͛͛̈́̈́͗͑̾̈́̾̅̚͝͝͝ͅó̴̢͎̝̼͉͉̩̲̻̃́̽̈́͜,̸̜͉̠̼͉͚͍̞̹̭̝̬͗̇̅̍͊̾̈̽̽̈̿ ̵̛̬͎̅̾̂̄̉̈́̓̎͂̋i̴̬͙̹̿́̊͆̈́͛̍͠t̸͍͓̖̟̠̮̝͎͎̱̻̻̭͛̔͜ͅ'̵̙̳̓̈͋̽̔͊̔̾̆͐͗͠ͅs̵̠̠̯̭̳̿͐͒͘ͅ ̸̧̛͓̼͇̄̈́̌̓̒̒͠ͅl̸̦̯̘͇̒̓̌̅̐̉̾̊̏͛̎̈́͝͝͠ͅì̸̹̳̬̍̓͑̉̔̅̚͝͝ķ̴͔͇͖͓̝͙̠̗͉̘̲͒̍͂͑͋͂̐̕é̵̛̤̯͌̾ ̴̧̱̦͇̙̬̖̬͋̍̌̚y̸̢̧̧̨͉͓͇̿̿͘ͅǫ̷͇̯̟̖͙̰̩̂͗͒ͅù̸̧͕̠'̶̹͇͚̀̐͗̾r̵͔͒̏̾͋́̅̂̈́̓͗̈̔̂̒e̶̡̠̪̲̦͈̫̔̇̒ ̷͇͍̬͖̪̙͂͋̒́̊̀͒͝a̵̖͎̺͛͂͐̚͝ͅ ̴̣̈̅̂͆̓̈́̍̽̌̇ẅ̸̧̢̧̛̖̺͓͔̲̞̠̩͖̺̳́̾͗̌̃̑́̎̾ͅh̸̤̫̯̯͕͍̬̮̉͛͆̈́̎͜ͅo̷̢̺̠̾ḻ̴̨̧̰̤͇̰̼͍̮̟͓́e̸̛̯̺͕͔̼͉̞̦͔̦̖̙̻̔̀̂̎̉̓̿ ̴̡̞͓̩͊ǹ̴̨̨̢̨̧͉̯͙̣̟̪̝̋̓͒̄̅͑̀̌̏͋̏̆͐̓͜ế̸̢̼̜̥͚̫͚̎́̈́̎̇͑̽͝ẘ̴̰͔̅͂͂͂̓͐̃͠ ̴̛͚̟̲͉̫̫̜͓͎̤̠̺͋̈͌̈́͂́̕p̵̡̢̨͖̬̰̙̭͉͇̼͎̫͉̾̈́ͅe̵̢̡̢̦̖̱̺̦͇̬̝̥̩̒̊͛͜r̶̢̯̫͕̥̗̠̝̐̍̃̈̇͛̈́͂̃͠s̵͙̊̐̉͌͝͝͝ơ̶̜̗̱̫̟̍̅́͗̈́̾̾̔̓̎̈͝ṉ̶̘͌̀͊̐͌̈́͒̓̇̆̕̚̚?̶̧͈̬̬̙̯̮͈̮̼̰̳͇̆"̷̙̪̣͓̜͔͍̪̮̅͆̉̉̈̃͗̍͌̕ͅ
̴̧̛̠͙̤͙͍̳͖̟̰̱̦̻̮̗̿͊͛͑͊̈̉͋̆͌͗̾̐̚
̴̨̛̮͎̬̺͇̼͓̰͎̦͚̯̟̮̎̏̊͗̾̇͐͝"̴̫̯͖͑͆̈́͗̌̉̇́̀͆͜͜͝͠Į̷̡̛̱̭̫̥̟͍̲̲̗͙̱̙̗͑̉̎́͑̇́̚͝s̵̢̤̖͇͖̠͍̫̘͔̮̏̆̉̊̾͛̽̇̒͠ ̶̟͙̱̯̠̰͇̙̪̣̞͖̰̤̲̂̊̆̀̈̀̽̒̈́̕͝t̸̨̝̠̼̣̤̩͎̘͔͎̠̞͔͔̄̒̆̓͌͛̏̐̍̍̓̚͠͠ḧ̷̯͍̳̖̝́̀͘a̷̛̳̬͗̇̎̈́͂͗̆̐̏̒̈̔̏͠t̷̞͙̙̺̖́̂̔̐̾͘͜͝ͅͅ.̷̯̣̝̾̉͐̚.̷̡͎̟̠̖͎͔̍̌̊͛ ̶̱̱́̈́͆̆͘̚h̴̡̨̤̠̠̤̤͎͇͔̼̺̦̀ǫ̵̫̮̺̲̺͔̺̈́̾͌͑́̑̅̒̾w̷̖̼̳̦͎͖̜͍͇̞̯͚͍̄͐̈́͛̓͗̀̌̑ͅ ̷̨̱̹͔̺͖̟̙̫͑͛̈́͗͆͆͑̀̕ͅͅI̸̧̧̛̙̳̳͕̹̬͛̅̅̾͌́̈́̈́̋̽͌͝͝ͅ ̴̛̹̗̹́͂̀̅́̒̋͒̉͘͝s̵̢̠̞̠̺̟̞͊͘ḧ̷͍̯́̂͂̒ͅo̶̱̭͇͗̏̿ǘ̸̬̗̜̽͗̔͂̽̉͜ḻ̶̡͍͕̟̗̗͙̗̝̬̤̼̾̿̾̚͝d̶̨̧̝̣͕͖̤̩̼̖̖͇̗͗͂̈͊̎̾͐̑̊̄͝ ̶̨̦͓̀͠s̶͕̹͖̙͇̼̠̽̋̌̈̃̆̂̐́̍̉̉̕͘͝e̶̠̪̬̮͙̲̘͉̿̈́͑͊̍͌̾̕͠͠ȩ̵̢̛̳̞̪̠̹̲͔̠̐̓ ̵̨̱̥̞̫͎̟̜̱̝̥̈̑̒̎̏͆͂̈́͝į̶̝̺̤̀̊̌͒́̑͒͑́̓͘͝͠t̴̨̧̨̬̟͚̯̻̤̟͋̈́̆͊?̸̱́́͛̇̂͑̋͑̉̾͐"̸̧̢͎͕̝̰̤͉̗̟͔̼̟̔̀̂̕͜͠͝͠
̶̧͚̝͔̘̫̯̠̦̘̞̽̃̀̇̊̿̀͛̄͆̒̍̚̚
̸̟̳̠̜̤̭͖̓̈́̒̈́͛͐̄͊̐́̈͐"̴̥̭̥͚̱̼̘͓͉͂̂̄́͐͛͑̈́̈́͘͜͠ͅͅṈ̷̡̥̇́͗͗̀̋̂̇͝ơ̵̦͚͕̝͕̖͋̍̈́̑̃́̊̇̐̋̄͂̕!̸̡̯̣̆̓̈̈̽͗̐̈̉̓̉̒͂͘͠ ̸͇̑̍͛͊̿̽́͝ ̴͕̽̄S̵̡͇̭̙̠͖̰͍̑̈́͆̅͂͑͛͌̏́͌̆̕͝o̷̡̢̖͖̣̩̟͔͎̣͓̫̿̚r̵̺̳͕͖̬̲̋̊̓̇̓͆͐̕͜͜͝ͅṟ̴̣̝̮͈̱͇͈͚̜̦̓͗̈́͝ý̴̠̯̺̫͔̘̥̻̖̼͖̽̋͒̐͌̎̎̅̾̉͌̽͠.̴̢̧̞͍̜̦͖͕̻̲͖͎͈̒́̿̾̀̊̅̓̕͜͜ ̴̠͇̲̬̳̞̰͊́́ ̶͓̭̻̜͈̳̦̳͎́̂̌̚͘̚͜Y̷̧̡̰͚̱̏̂̃͗͝o̴͚̽̀͊̀͆͌̿̃͝͠u̵̘͖̤̤͉̦͒̇͐͊̑̍̔̓̔͘'̸̨̭̬̤̩̣̟͉͕̤̐r̸̹͖̳͇̬̽̈͑͋̏̏̓́́̿̂͘͜ͅę̶̞̰̖̳̯̫̩̳̂̊̓̋́̌̕ ̴̡̧̠̬̯͍̘̝̭͈͇̻̟̯̿͆̾̈́̾̐̒͛͝j̸̫̱͙̥̬͈̘̗̱̔͐̿͂̄̾̐̕͝ů̷̱̳̣̙͙͍̃̚ş̵͎̝̺̝̥͖͖͉͕̹̠̥̓̏̈́̏̒͜t̸̹̗̜̲̠̝̙̉́̄̀͊̋̌̔͘ͅ ̵̨̨̡̢̹̙͉͕̜̦̖̜̈́̓́̔̀̔̆̈́̿̚͝͠͠ͅͅs̵̮̥̖͇̬̜̰̠̠͂̆̃̑̋̈̿̀̐̓͗̆͘͘ṑ̴̧̨̨̻̟̱̙̬͉̠̩̼̀͐ ̸̯̙̩͔̘̻̪̻͇̩̓͆͋̌̌͑̒̎́́͂̾̋͘̕d̷̠͕̳͎̄̾̌́͆̂̃̐̚͝î̶̤̱̱̍̐̄͌͂͘͝͝f̴̺̪̯̻̯͚̩̖͍̬͇̄̄͋̈́̈́͜͠f̵̛̳̘͕̀̐̍͑̇͠e̸͚̣̣͓͂̾͌̊̿͘͜r̷̡̪̻̬͑̏̄̀ẽ̷̛͉̖̬̱̳̬̏̂͊̽͑́̽͗̂̕͝ń̶͔̜̩̟̙̮̤͕̄̈̔̎̈͐͌͠ţ̵͖̤̗̰͔̠̳̞͔̰̤̠̋̓͊͐͊̌̅̑̋̿͋.̸͓̒͛̎͛"̶͓̙̌̾̓̃̃̊̈́͑͆͌̿̇̏̚͝
̵̧̨̞̳̠̠̝̻̲̳̯̠͔̊͑̇̇̕̚͠
̴̡͇̯̳̣͈͈͇̤͙̻̦̆̍̓̈́͠͝ͅͅ"̵̲͔͖̙̤̗̺̗̥̓͐̎͐̐̀̒́̿̂͘H̷̢̢͚̦͚̣̟̟͉̩̰͍̺̅̎̈͐͋͂̀̄̇̄͝͝ú̷͇̫̓̓́̉̅̈͒̉̊̓̄̕͝͠h̷̡̝̞̝̩̾̋̍̾͜?̷̡̨̨̤̙̭̞͖̦̩̈́́͆̊̒̀̇͒̈́̈́͒͘"̷̨̥̹̱̠͓̜̂̆̇͜
̶̢̻̦̫̄͐̌̍̈́͐̕
̵̛̭̟̱͚͇̬͖̳̭̰̭͆̋̀̇̕͜"̵̳̟͈̟̓̿͛̅̉̾̆́́̿S̶͉̤̬͓̫̩̪̙̘̓̒̒̐̂̔̏̂̀̊̐̀̓̕ǫ̵̼̰͕̘̙͉̞̣̗̃̽͋͜r̶̡̡͕̜͇̻̟̰̈́̍́̉̔͋̚r̴̢͕̰͍̪̘͈̘͖̲̒̑̂̑̾̏͊̆̒͜͠͠͝y̴̧̨̮͖̺̠͔͍̞̪̰͓̲͙͑̉̌́̈́̈͊̽̀̌̑̄̑̕͝,̷̮͔̟̠̖̬͖̤͓͔̠͚͚͕͑͛͘͝ͅ ̵̡̛̺̗̦͖̥͖̬̲̱̠͙͍̻̼̈́̿̀̑̊̃͊͒́͘I̵̬͚̜͇̦̭̫̪̽͐̿̿̀̇͛́͘͜ͅ ̸̧̖̥̠̱̯̬̀̿́̓͒͂͂̾̎͌̚͜͝d̸̢̧̯̜̳̱̝̹͔͔͖̪̗̣̫̓i̷͇̓̒̓̔d̷̦̉͛̇̎̔́͒n̸̛̜͆̄̿͑̇̕'̸̢̨̖͉̗͚̼͎̖̣̝͐t̸̨͈͙͚̫̟̂̾̂̐̈́̀͘ ̷̜̖̥̟̟̥͗̽͊͒̑̒̓́̽͑̌̋̀͘͝m̷͎͖͚̱̤̹̦̺̐̆̎̆́̀̓̍̔̾̓͑͜͝e̷̡̨̢̛͖͇͍̞̩̖͙̫͈͕͚͛̏͗̽̽̈̎͘͘͜a̷͙͆́̌͋̋̍̆͌n̵̨̢̛̫̲͕̼̻̦̬̻̼̔̇͜ͅ ̷̥̉̈́͑̈͋̌̏̂͋i̸̪͕̳̣̲̍͂̿͋̈́͘͝ṇ̶͙͙̲̦̠̟̦͍̞̜͕̗̿̄͛͜ ̴̢̼̜̝͉̠͕̬̹͙͍͎̗̊͐̅̔͊́͊̊͑̍́̚͘̚͝ą̷̣͈̔̑̌͒̚ ̶̢̡̖͚̱͇̞̤͔͔̥̭̦͒̑̏̐̇̈̔͑̐͗̐ṛ̴̨̧̧̰̳͖͈̭̘͆͗ṳ̵͖̦͇̖͈̮̦̰́̄͂̾̆d̴̯͈̮͉͓̗̞̦̭̪̳̰͇̈́̍͂͊͌̓̏̂̈́͗͗͠͝ę̶̬̜̽̍͑̅ ̵̬̣̘͙͉͔̩̰̐͑͆̽̒̋̀w̷̧̧͓͙̯̬̫̣̙̠̺̗̙͚̆̐́̃̋̿́̿͜͝ḁ̸̮͙̰̜̥̞̊̀̇͒͆͆̋͋́͝ͅy̴̡̟̓̓̊͜.̶̨͕̳͖͇̈́͊̇̊̾̓͠"̸̘͊͑̓̿͋̕
̶̢͓͚̘̮̼̰̭̯̼͕̈́̓̉̓̎͛̆̔͗̅̓ͅͅ
̷̛̟̩̱̦͉̖̮͑̇̓̒̈̒̀̈́̔̅͝"̸̢̡̝̮̙̬̻̖͔̫̼̀͗̋̉͐̾N̴̥̙͖͇̰̝͙͔͈̺̘̔̉́͛͜ͅͅo̵̧̍̿̓̾̃͋͌̿̆̀̕͘ͅ.̸̛͎͈̝̤̳͓͇̦͔̝̻̈́̈́̈́̃̑̅̏͌͑͒̀͊͜͠͝ͅ.̶̧͎͉̰̩̝̭͙͍̣̩̗̄̉́ ̴̧̹͚̥͈̣͍̩͙̠͈̞̾̌͐̎̑͘I̴̍̃̆̈̄̑̽͌͗̚͝ͅt̷̢̺̻̥̱͇̤͔̺̰̝͔̰̫̂̓̈̒̓̓̂͊̚ͅ'̷̢̘͙̗̤̯̟̼̲̞̰̀͂̾͐̉̂̀͆̚s̷̨̛̼̬̱̺͂̊̔̀̍̔̒́͑̓̑̃͜͝͠ ̵̖͉̰͗͆̔͛̾̌̒̋͂́̄̄ͅo̵̻̯̰̼̹͚͓̣͇͇̞̱̦̳͑̍̓̀̄̇͗͆͂̓̂̄̀͝k̴̢̖͙͕̻̫̻̟͎͕̟̦͓̼̉͗̂̅̿̊̆ȧ̴̩͙͓͂y̷̼̟̪͉̖̹̏̍͗̔̔̈̂̄̄̈́͋̿͒̒͝.̶̡̧̗̌̏͜ ̶͉̬̬̈́͛͜ ̸̡̣̭͕̬̘̥̿͜Y̴̡̻̹̬̻̮̤͎̞̾̇͠͠ǒ̶̯̣͓̟͙͇̮̗͂̏̽̾̿͝ṵ̴̢̣͍̣̬̲̖͎͖̲̲̈͒́̑͒̑̕ ̶͚̖͓̉͘͜g̷̡͙̤̠̭̟͗̔̈̈́̆͋̑̏̇͘͠͠ų̸̟͙͎͉̙̬͇͓̫͕̥̀̄̅̐y̵͉̌̈́͛̓̆̾̆̕̚̕͠͝͠ͅs̷̫̮̦̰͖͍̠̬͗̃̂̑̌͒̄͗̚̚͜ ̵͈̠̜̳͉̞͚̙̮̼͂̇͒̽̊͑̎̎͆̊́̃̐͒̚h̶̗̣̬͎̭̝̹̘͕̏́̀̽̾̂̑͒͝ạ̸́͗̋̀͗͌̋͒̽͑̋͠͝v̵̡̧̢̢͕͚͙̼̘̝͉̰̐̐̎̎̑̓͗̔̅̐͗̕͝͝ͅę̵̡̩͔̬͕̜̜̙͍̭̈́̾̔̈̉̕ ̴̛̛͎̅͋̌͑̃̔̓̏̕t̵͖͉͈̞̳̗͚͇̖̮̠̤̫̝̭̽͐̍̄a̷̧̩̳̻̮͓͈̘̝̩̝̳̖̼̿̀̀̅̀͗̈u̴̹̮̟̪͒̆̇͊̅ĝ̴̘͉̣͓̥̩̯̙̮̹͇̻̋́̃̓̒͗̉̆ḣ̵̡̛̹̳͕͔̭͇̼̄̿́̊̊͐͒͊̐͒͛͆̚ͅẗ̴̨̞̫̬̗̱͚̥̥͕̅̈͊͆̿̍̏̾̂̂̑̏̋̍͜ ̶̛̝̺̫͇̩̎̅̃̈̓̀͗͊͛̕͠͠m̸͔̑͂̿̂͐̔͛̂̐͝ĕ̵̡̦̼̬͖̝̥̘̮̰͎̌͊̈́͜.̷̡̱͖̜͖̟͉̳͍̪̘̝͖͚̬̽̋̄̃.̷̨̞̲̜̯̬͐̈́̂̓̃̑̉̓̉̈̾̃̾͠ ̵̡̨͎̟̰̞̼͐̀̄̌̆̎̕͝͠q̶͙͍͂u̵͇̹̫̘̓į̸̖͍̳̬̩̄͗̈́̍͊̑̄̂ẗ̴̨͍̝͔̗̠̺̠̼͍̠́̓̂̇̉͝ͅe̶̢̢̧̪̳̻̞͍̺̠̜͕̫͋͆̓͌̃͜ͅ ̸̡͍̥̳̼̲̿̌̌̓̿̐̂͐̐̚a̴̝͚̾̎̾̿̎̏̄̓̌̀̈́ ̶͇̥͓͉̣̃̐̆̏̔̊̑͐́͛̿̿͒̌͝b̸̡̢̢̡̡͎̞͈̞͉̗̼̤͖̓̄̽̇̽́̉͂̆̕͜͝͠i̴̢͛̿̔̎̍t̴̳̰̦͈̻̫͕́̾̇͊̑͋͊̕͘̚.̷̥̱̰̼͇̬̪̍̎͋̃͒́̒́̃̓̕ ̷̠͈̙̜̦̈́͑̑̀̿̓̋͒͑̀͊͒̇̊̚ ̸̦̰̮̭̣́̀͑̌̓̀̀̄̚͠ͅY̷̡̺̖͓̫̬͐͊͛̏̃̌̐o̴̮͖̓͑̓̍͘ư̵͖̹͈͕̬͚͇͍͋̄̍͋͒̍͗̏̿͜'̷̰̗̗̈́̿͋̏̕̚v̴̡̛̼̗̬͙̀̔̀̅͋̿͂͂̄͗́̇͋̈e̶̡̗̱̽̆̎͑̂̽̌͌͂̈̉̏̕̚ͅ ̸̭̰̌͊̓̍̈́̽̽̍̎̿̇̈́͊̚͜͠d̵̩̘͖̄̉̀̀́̊̒̽̿ò̸͕̥̰̱̣̙̆̔̎̌n̶̢̨̨̲̘͇̤̳͙̹̤̻̤̝̐e̶̢͇̱̎́͗̐͂͆́̒͝͝.̷̹̺̇͗͆͐̒͊͗̕̕.̵̗̬͊ ̸̨͖̰̹̖̩̗̥̬̼̜͉̫͖̩̇̑̈́͑͐͒š̶̡̨̠̩͕̝̲̠̙́̂̐̊̑̎̑̏̇̕͜ȯ̵̡̭̪͙̭̪͖̮̗͕͚̬̅̓̎̂͠ ̷̨͓̞̳͇͖̒́͗͑̇̎͛͜͠m̵̧̝̺͖̠̦̺̗̈́͐̀̃̏̒̒̀̕ͅṵ̸͖̑͌̀̄̌̿̂̏͠͝ç̸͙̰̣̬̜̰̥̺̽̎͒̚͝ḩ̸͇̘̰͙̩̐̾̿ͅ.̵̧̫͓̊ ̶̛̥͍͈̬̐̾͌͌͛̈́̄̇͠ ̷̡̻͔̯̦̥̙̳̱͛̈́̉̒͆̚͜͜͝I̵̻͈̱̲̊̈́͜ ̸̺̱̘͖̣̦̼̏̈́̏̋̓̃͑̏͂̏̀̓̒ş̶̖͎̥̙͉̲́̓̓̈́̑̌̏̅̈́̿̚͜͜ͅh̷̢̳͚̪̜͓̱̥̥̬͖̆̇̎͌̓̄̌͜ǫ̶̦͖̼̟͇̥̻̓̊̓͋̓͊̕͝ư̷̢̫̰̘̺̲͚̫̥̥͍̪͈̓̄̓͌̐̐̏͗̍͆̈́̋͗l̶̬̙̜͍͔̞̣͓̓̊́͌͝ḑ̵̙̗̬̞͇̥̻͎͇̣̬͌̌ ̴̧̡̛͔̞̱̲͎̦̖̈́͌̓͂̿̏͋̉̓͂͌b̵͙̝̝͉͇̞͍͍̦͓͗͐̀͋̀͘̕ͅę̵̹̭̘̭̗̦͌̈́̄̾̒͒̂̽̋̄̅̓̕̕̚.̵̡̫͈̝̬̭͈͍̙̫̀͜.̵̞͔̏́ ̵̧̡̳̬͓̲̗͎̦̻̯̮̤͋̓͗͝ͅw̴̩͂̈͒͊͘͝h̶̛̛̙̦̳̤͉͓͓̭̼͎̰͕̔́̌̓̏̀͜a̴͔̱̘̠̹͇̝̓t̴̨̘̠̺̳̖̟̣̻͕̯̂̇̌̉͐͘̕ ̴̢͚̲̦̞̏̌͗̚L̴͈͎͉̞͈̟̖̩̯̦̅́̎̇͂̏́̐ͅǔ̷̯̻͎̼̱̼̹̿̍̓̾̏̏̏̈́̎́͋͋͜͝͝v̴̲̣͇̗̆a̶̧̨͙̻̤̰͍̼̻̾̓͜ ̸̡̨̘̮̝̭̪̗͖̙͇̭̭̰̾͊ă̷͙͔͕̱͇ṋ̶̬͍̒̌̏͗̌̉̈́̑͌ḓ̵̡̞̣͓̪͇̟̩̄̏̀̂͗͆͑͑̚ ̶̩̬͈̏̏͛̽̌̿̒̈́̐̒̊̍͝ͅR̵̛͈͈̬͕̽͛̊̿͂̔͐͝e̴̙̠̖̞͙̱̱͛͜ṉ̵̄͐̉͂́̾̾͗̈̀̈́́̈̈́͝h̷͍̦̗̗̫̼̱̰̟͒̀̀͊͋̊̀̃ͅö̶̧̗̦͉͔̙̲̜́̈́l̵̡̧͙͇͉̗̰̤̮̯͙̋̈́̍̔̃̒ḑ̸̻͖͎̮̤̖̪̟̦̺̦̏̅̆t̵̨̧̢̮͚̞̫͚͓̙̮̊͌͂̀̽̍̏̐̊ ̷̢͖̤̺̞͈̲̗̩̮͔͙̭̐̃͒͋̄̓̋̈́͠͝ͅw̵̨̛͆̋̌̈͗̑̄͋̆͝͝a̶̜̖̣̖̲̩̲̜̻̍̓̉̔̀̎̇̃̔̌̑̚n̷͓͙̥̣̬͉̱̟̿͆t̵͓́̒͐͌̄̑̈́͐̇̀̍̕͠͠.̸̛̖͈̦̀̋̈́̋̃͂̏͝͠.̵̡̮̱̩̼̼̙̘͚̦̅͌́̽̿́̎̉̆͘̕͜ ̷͈́̊̐̐̄̊ǒ̵͈͈f̶̡̧͕͓̬̯̟͕͚͊ ̶̛̺́̓̀̌̊͊̐̌̽̚͝m̴̱͚̮̫̩̯̹͉̝̗̞̳̙̀͗̏́̀͑͜͜ȩ̶̨̲͎͕͚̦̮̻͖͈̒́̏̾̎̓́̈́̕͜.̷̧̡̨̡͉͓͕̲̼̯̞͉̆̍̀̇͑̿̃̊̃̀̚͝͝͝"̸̛̯̯̺̀͆̓́̋̆̽̑͑̾͗̊̕͠ͅ
̷̧̯̯̻̰͕̪́̃̄́̚͝
̵̧̨͓̱̼̭̻̞̦͔̜͖̍͆́̿̆"̷̢̢̛̤̥͓̥̫̞̽͋̈͊͆̍̒̍̐͐̏̚̚͝Y̵̡̨̥̣͚͇̺͚͖̰͒̋͆̓̏̂̋̈̆̑̄͠͠͝ơ̸̤͈̱̭̺͛͋̄̈́́̎́͛͜ư̴̢̡̟͎͇̖̮̯͍̮͑̉̐̔̊͋͗̎̚͠ͅͅ ̵̤̤͈͙̩̔́̉̾̓̇͗͌̑̈́̕ç̸̛̪͎͔̼̲̲͔͛͆͆͊͑͛̓͘̕͝a̴̲̗͂̌̀͐̏̑͋̈̋͂̕n̸͔̍̾̽̓̈́̿͘̚ ̶͔̠̠͈̳̈́͒̚s̴̱̟̪̭̒̎͑͒͐͆̈́͆̂͆͒͝ͅt̴̗͇̬͇̮̥͇̪̜̺̯̠̳̀̎͆̉̈̐͝i̴̢̛͉͎͚̘̠̮̫͍̒͗̂̾́͌͜l̸͕̻͕͎̖͙̲̳̯͈̥̗̤̲̾̈́͘ͅl̶̮̱̦̠̯̦̲̱̣̘̺̙̻͑͌̽̊̕ͅͅ ̴̖͎̱̹̾b̸̧͖̗͇̦̖̯̳͉͔͚̄͆̉̆͌͠e̷̡̫̪̯̮͈̣̦͇̟͎͙̼̣̟̊̈́ ̵̨̡̢̛̩͖̜͚̮͉̰̙̙͋̎̊̏͐̅͊̕̚͜͝y̶͕̫̟͇̬̪̯̹͚͚̥̩͗̈́̈́͜ͅͅo̵͉̩͉͕͍͎̿̅̈́̔̒̆̎̽͒̓̓̃̓͜ṷ̷̯̠̩̟͔̣̖͉̗̝̀̔̍̈̑̃̈́̒́͜r̴̞͖͉̣̤̪̟̮͕̟͊̈́̋̆̍̿͋s̵̡̠̭͎̪̭̝̗̗̈́́̈́ḛ̷̩̉̊̇̊̔̒̿̚͝͝͠l̴͍̓̔͆͒f̸̨̡͚̯͈̫̳̮͂̈́̊̀̿͝ͅͅ,̸͍̤͖̜͆̑̀̉͛̈́̎̽̆̊ ̷̨̞̪͍̤̖̼̲̲̱͕͚̼̼̫̿̒͌͌̓̈́̃̈́̀t̵̛̲̰̂͊̓͆̀͂̆̄̅̔̓̀͊h̴̩͔̙̻͋͑̿͊̏̿ŏ̵̹͇̈́͒͗̽̏̇u̸̙͈̟̍͑̍̽̒͊̉͋g̶̹̬̘̋̎̂͆͝ͅh̷̻̘̥̗͂̔͒̌̄̐̂̽̀ͅ.̴̢̧̧̙̫̩̫̼̥͈̻̘̖͙̥͌̔͠"̷̞̇̒̈́̏̀͜
̷̨̳̯͖͓͓̰̦̉͘̚͝
̷̢̢̹̙̰͊̔͝"̵͙̦̗̻͔͙͐͆̿̔͛̍̀̽͊̕͝I̸͓̱̲͙̥͍͎̦̗͔̋̊͋͑̎͊͆̃̔͋̐͠ ̴̦̓́̑̊͐͊͘̚͠d̸̹͙͎͕̝̬̝̝̞̺͆ơ̸̧͓̜͈̻̠̽́̃̈́͐͋̓͊n̶͉̰͙͆̍̿̂'̸̢͕̖͈̟͚͙̬͕̬̗̹̀̿̓́͌̀͠͝ͅt̴̢̨͎̹̬͇̗̺͐̽̔ ̴̬̫̦̈́̌̕̕e̶̬͈͕̝̝͓̹̟̻͔̰̙̎̈́̍͛͑̀͘̕͘͜͠v̶̨̳͈͈̙̣̜͖̙͕̺̟͂̾̌é̴͔̳̹̖͎̗̀̒͗͆̈̆͠n̶̰͉̝̹͙͕͇̑̈̓̇̊̂͆̉̒̚ ̵̛̖̟̪̹̿̇̐̒̃̍̽̎̆͝k̸̤̰͇̹̖̫̝̘̀́n̸̗̯̟̫̪͋͝o̴̧̧͚̻̬̟̭͉̼͈͖̺͚̺̒͗͊̓́̆̍́̎͗͘͠ͅẃ̵̢̧̨̩̬̖̫͚͈͓̺̲̲̭̌͒͌͋̌̎̄͘͜͝.̵̧̮̯̠̳̩̰͔̻̭͌̄̀̎̒͑̉̕̕͜͝͝.̷̧̡͙͖͉͚͔̞̹̩͈̯͇͔̀̌̓̈́̀̀͗̇̕ ̶̢̛͙̣͖̠̖͖̮̠̟͇̠̥͚̊̏̓͒̐w̴̧̧̱̯̭͉̮̙̼̱̆͋̍͊̓̓͘h̸̯͖͉̽̀͐̾̈̂̈́̈͒̚͘̕ơ̵̢̡̼̯̖̹͖͚͕̥͑̓̈́͑̾̆̎̇̚̚ ̴̧̧̺̖̞͙̩̹͙̓̀̋͛͌̎Ì̵̲̥̜̂̔́͐̈͆͋̊ ̸̛̲͈̞̝̌̓̄͗̈̔͌̎̀͘͜͠ą̵̛̯̙̺̣̝̹̈́̾̉m̷̛̟̪͇̮̖̍̐̾̔͋̊̑̓͒̕͠͠͝.̸̧̛̥̫͍͚̯̱͔͓͇̐̍͛̋̍̓͒́̅̀͝ ̸̨̡̱͍͓̱͕͖̗͇̻̳͚͇̆̏̐̐̓͑ ̸͚̥̟͇͚͔̦̈̎̎͑̄̾̿͑̈́̃̈́̂͘̚͠H̴͇̓͊̓̽͌̀̀̀͗̚o̵͚̅̀̋̎́͊̆͘ẅ̷͈̤̠̖̤̣͓̭̳̙͙̱̽̀̇̉̇̒̎̋̚͘ ̷̳͈̝̣̦̏͆̔s̵͖̳̮̩̯̦̘̘̺̅̄̕h̶̢͍̺̤̲̼͖̼̗͒̔̽̀͋̈̂͛́o̶̡̤̦͖̰̲͖̘̭̥̣̘̐̅̉͊̔̇͗͂̿̄̑͘̚̕ͅư̶̧͓͖̬̆̈́́̋̿͐͌̅̉͘͘ͅl̶̤̖͂́̅̈́͗͌̄ḑ̷̧̫͉̮͔͙͓͙̜̤̬̗̃͘͜ ̶̞̗͋̍͆I̶̢̧̢͎̪̮̣̬̤̎̂͌̔͌͐͌̀̀̑͂̄́̄̕ ̵͚̤͚̺͈͔͓͍͈͕͙̪̪̀̊̆͜b̷̟̲̦̓̎̔́͆͑͘͝ę̷̧̢̨̢͖̫͈̮͓͓̲̳̦̃͜.̴̡̡̡͖͕̹͓̗̬̞͉̫͇̼̻̿͒͛͒́̄͠.̴̖͎̫̫̣̰̫̣͔̞̽̿̾͂̽͜ͅͅ ̸̡̢̩͇̙̫̤̖̦̱̚m̷̧̝̥̼͓͙̠̤̤̳̈̈́͂̏͊̔̍̀͐̎̚͝y̵͖̭͍̻̌̓͆s̵̭͉̣̪͖͙̯̦̈́͗͋̓̄̓͛͒͘͝ͅe̶͉͇̱̱̯͕͖͍̦͗͌̈̎͛̓̏̌l̷̨͈̺̗̝͓̞̻̼͌̄̌̾̒͝f̵̧̻̣͚͂.̶͇̥̘̮̼̞͖̰̮͙̙̼̪́̏͌̈́̾̒̿͆̀̕͝"̸̧̗͚̖̼͉͋̒͑͜
̸̨̛̳̺͚̘̟̩͉̮̊̌̍͐͌̎̏̄̈́͘̚
̴͚̟̣͇̹̈́̏͠"̴̱̯͚̳̖̹͚̰̘̞̱̏͗̀̇̎̆͗̈́̚͠T̷͔̐̐͆͑́̋̈́̚̕h̷͍̮̺̗͐̏͒̔̈́̆̄̚̕͠͠e̷̛̩̻̗͉̲̟͕̩̻̞̹͔͐̍̏̓̅̿̾̀̂̾̆̃̕͜ ̷̥̟̦͕̍w̵̨̨̘̖̯̖̞̻͍̉̌̄̌̍̏̔̃̐̂́͠a̶̪͑̈́͐̈́̑͜͝ỹ̷̱͔̙ ̸͈̅͋̓̉̇͘͠y̵̢͚͎͓̠͎̭̤̥͖̪̻͉̑̃̉͆̊̓̑̾̕̕̕͜͝ő̴̧̦͍̣̫̠͐͂̽̇̋̈́̽̇̿̉̚͜͜͠͠u̶̧͙̥̠̣̩̦̥͖̪̝̰͕̯͓̐̇̾͛͝'̶̗̦̖̙͎̣͔̗̤̺͕̣̯̪̒͂̀̽̀̉͜ṛ̴̡̧̰̱́̔̋͐͌̑͗͋͆̀̚͜͝ê̸̡̢̻̮̳͓̜͙̹̱̅́̏͌̅̅̃̊͘̚͝͠ ̸̛̩̤̞̪͚̂̈́̑̀̇̒̌̑͜k̴̪̮̞͕̫̯̉̀͐̃̾͐̈́͘͘͝ͅi̸̧̢̛̬̪͈̰̬̯̣̗̬̻͊̔́̈́͐̊̐̉̽͌̍̓̊̂͜n̷̠͑̿̍̀̃̎͗d̸̼̣̤̖̻̰̼̰͓̭̝̣͊͆͌͗̉͑ ̸̪̪̱̤͔́́̇̊̑̑̀͝t̸̫̮̱̦̜̼̮͚̫̦̻̀o̵̜̠̜͓̘̍̋̓͂͂̍ ̸̡͉̩̌͌̏̋̆̎͂̈́͗͊̈́̎͝ẻ̷̼͌̔̓̑͑̑̈́̓͐͠v̸̨̤̮̭͍͎̥̥̺̌̃͛̔͋̑̃̈́̄̊̅͐̕ͅḛ̶̜̫̠̣̣͈̙̲̩͙̭̗̫͚̾̈͌͆̉̐͗̅̃͝y̶̡̘̰̘̝͕͎̭͎̌̾o̴̫̟̫̫̟̖̤̝̖̊̓̍̋̂͒̒̈́̆̇n̶̡̠̤̞͊̍̋̀͆̌̔͆͋̓̆͘͠͠e̶̮͓̪̤̳̙͚͆̔̒̏͘͝ͅͅ.̴͚̜̭͕̪̯̰͇̣̼̏͂̽̿̏̕ ̴̢͓̻̼̽̔ ̸̡̤̺͕̜̤̔͗͆͜N̴̢̛̹͉̮̦͎͙̪̯̤̣̼͑̓̾͑͂̒̑̑̃̅̈̊͆͜ö̴́ͅ ̴̞̘̬̜̲͎̺͉̔͘͜͠m̵̢̠̣̣̝̮̲̻͋̍̊̕͘͝͠͠͝a̶̤̥̬̱̬͚̗͉̱͚͍̮̘͛̊̒͐͑ͅͅt̸̘̭̺̗̠̞̱̍͊͛̀͆̌͊̓̀̽̽̄̅͋͝t̵̢̞̠̦̙̉̄̔̈͂͛ę̸̭̱̥͕̦͉͍̩͇̺͐r̶̟̃͌͐͛̎͋̎̈́̏̋̈́̌̚͜͝ ̴͆̈́̄͐̀͛͐͘͝͠ͅḯ̶̭͇͕̖͚̭̾͂̈́̌͂̓f̶̙̠̮̞̰̱̻͈̝̆̂̍̃̈́͋͋̐̄̕͝͠ ̸̧̣̖̣͇̫͉͉̻͐̾̓͐͆̏̉̅̎̿̌̑̇̓͜t̸̛̼̘̋͊̊̽̊̽̅̄̀̏͆͠h̸̩̜̲̩̯̘͂͋͂̿̉̆̉̚e̸̢̙̪̞̭̺̖͕̜̖͕͉̿̇͌̍̃̽̊̀͌̓͝͝y̵̡͕̟͇̱̼̲̞̼̅͊͘͜͜'̷̱͕̜̺͍͕̮̜̥̮͌̉̂́ͅr̴̡̤̝͎̰̟͔̖̥̗̅̓ͅě̶̡̡̲̩̖̥͍̬̼̱̀̀̈́͐̑̓̅̓̍̃͛̑ͅ ̴̡̘̻̘̠͕͎͉̀̈́̈̀̌̓̆̈́͠͝Ň̴̜̝̫̖͍͚͙͓̭͗̍͑̀P̴̡͔̠̠̥̺̞̯̝̘͗̾̀̇͐͝ͅC̵̡̧̛͈̱̘̦͙͙̙̰͑̊̆,̵̨͖̥̥͍͈̝̐̊͠ ̵̤̣͕̰̱̘̻͓̥͒́́͘͜ǒ̷̧̢̜̖͕̟̬̤̝̰̏̚r̴̛̝̀̌̏̈́̍̄̚ ̸̝̼̬͎͚͎͇̞̀͜n̴̦̱͖͕̒͋̀͌͊̐̾̿̓̈͗͘͝͠ơ̷̫̰̦̰̎̂͝ţ̵̡͉̜̪̥̝̗͙̱̫̮̱́̈́͊̆̅̌͑͆̔̾̕͠ͅ.̸̤̪̖̜͚̪̮̙͍̓̈́͊́͋̂̕͜"̴̢̧̢̛̙̲̰͚̞̺͙̥͙͚͔̱͗͛̋͐̀̔͗̀̄̌̕͠͠
̵̧̺̳̤̹̝͖͍̮͉̈́̉̍̽̒̍̀̈́́́͆̈́͘͝
̸̡̗̓̕"̶͖͚̘͕̯̅̅̿́͛̂̄͑̏͊Į̶̿̔͑͌̚ ̵̈̎̉̉ͅd̸̨̨͇̻̪̼̖̭̞̦̬̗͕̈́͗̀̆̆̾̕̕͘͜͜͝͠o̵̡̹̪̻͗̑͗̎͗̒̋͊͛̚̚n̵̢̢͓̩̤̞͙̱̹͉͐͂̌̃̓̍͂'̴̟̣͔̘̰͍̬̥̰͕̍̿͑̍̎̄͒͛̀̌̚̕t̴͂̔́̈̇̋͆̓̽̕ͅ ̵̦͖̣̣̥͈̱̙͍̣̙̩͌͒̽͛͗̑̀̒̊̐͗̃͝͠ů̴͇̦͕̩̟͔̂͒̇͘͠͝n̵͎͈̖̲͍͑͝͝ḑ̸̨̗̪̼̻̜͙̫͙͖̗͙̺͋͊̋̒̉͊͑̑̎̎̚͠͠͝e̴͙̺͓͔̮̩̖̓̏͑͛̍̈́͛͘͠ͅr̶̛̻̬̱̳̳̼̾̓̔̀̏̈́̓̈ș̴̥͍̬͕͋̐͜ͅţ̶̼̟̄͐̋̽̂͐̄͊̀̓̕͠͠å̷͚̦̩̩͖̮̤̬͉̼͝n̸̹̣̙̖̙̺͓̠̞̣̱͎͎͚̅̉̓́̕͝ͅd̶͔͕̟̳̹̗̺͌̇͛̐͋̒̓̑͊̐̓̚͘.̷̢̮̦̝͍̟̰͕͎̱̮̗͒͊̀.̸̧̲͚̍̀͊͌͒͗̃͠ ̷̦̼̈́̒͆̈́̀t̶̨̢̨̧̥̘̳̦̳̬͈̬͍̱̋̾̌̈́́̈́̒̀͆̎͊͜h̶̝̟̠́̌̒e̵͚͙̎̿̿̆ ̸̧̛̣͔͉̥̺͖̤̙̙̽̆̑̈́͑̿̌̈́͝d̸͙͔̭͔̔̅i̴̖͈̙̥̬͍̯̰͖͎̳̩̻̪͑̂́̇̆̀̾̉̏̉̾͛̓̕f̴̧̘̹̹̤̙̜̪͖̱̮̂͛̎͗͛̒͘͠f̶͖̮͚͎̪̙͂͐͒̎̈́̇̀̏̀͠é̴̡͍̭͜ř̴̝̭͉̠̹̥̰͎̗͈̰̏̓̆̔̅͐̈́͑̽̂͝͠ē̴̡̢̜͔̞̫̳̼̮̜͕̥͒̅̑̓̒̉̆̊͜͝͝ͅn̶̢̜̦̙̣̪̒͛͠ć̶̜͍͉̙͗̄̽̒́̌͌̀̏̆̅̚̚e̶̢̧̲̩̝̯͍̓͘s̶̫͑̌̊̃̌́̃̃ ̴͈͉͓͚͋͋̎̃̈́̃̚͠t̷͎̳̦͉͈̞͖̼̘͍͋͆͐̑͂͗̓̌̍̃͋̑̽̅̔ͅḩ̸̤̗̭̤̙̉͊͑͂̀͘͝͝͝ͅo̵̭̩̰̼̾̈́̈́͂͋̉̌̓̂̉̇͋͘̚͜u̴̯͕̻͙̺̫̩̒̓̈g̶̡͓̗̖̫̣̬̫̦͚̖̩̊͜h̸̢̟̻̫͕̲́̔͐̔̀̈́͛̈̐͒̇̒̍͑?̴̢̨͍̫̖͈̹̣͇͉̞̰̘̫̞͆̍ ̵̱͙̲̼̰͈̳̥̗̰̙̺̘͙̃͊͗̇̽̄̈́͛͘͝ͅ ̸̙̞͕͈̟̭̹̊̓͂̓̈́͐̆̀͘͝͠Ĥ̴̡̡̡̯̼̯̱͎̖̤͎̈́͆͗̓̀̀͘̚ͅó̷̧͓̻͖̥̞̤͚̩͕̳͚̭͈̍̈́̉͘ẅ̸͈̼̹̝͓͓̙͔̫̟̩̹́͑̚͝͠ ̸̟̰̤̼̈́̊̽̈́̍̒̕s̴͔̭̀͆̐̉̈̋̃̒͂̋̂̚͠ḩ̵̛̬̰̱͈̟̹̫̺̭̊͛̈̆͘o̵̰̞̼̺͖̝̟͎͉̖͇̜̾͌̓̀̈́͋̿̂̀́̏͘͘͝ü̶̢̧̨̡̬̖̝̙̜̦͎͓̆͗̈̅̒͗̀̇́̂͛̈̈́̕͜ͅļ̶̛̮̖̰̩̦̲͇̈́̂̔̒̌̇́̅̈́̽̐ͅd̵̡̞͕͍̟̙͔̙̺̬̼̳̀̈̆͒̈́͝ ̷̛͔̦͉̝͓̞͕̗͚̮̜͔̝̐͆I̶̛̫̗̯͙ ̴̛̣̗͉̖̭f̷̧̤̥̣̹̖̖̬̪͚̻͈̗͇̊͋̎̀̓̈́̎̑͊̂̃͘͝͝ͅè̸̢̼̥̭̦͎̗̥̖̫̩̜̖̭̬̔͑̋̏e̸̡̜̞̥̫͚͇̳̥͑̒ĺ̷̪͎̜͚̹̤̗̋̃̒̑̾̆͗͋͑̈̓̚͜͠?̸̘̝̖͉̻̝̭̰̈̆̽̉̀̃̾̅̃̎͋͠"̵̢̛͎̦̯͎̠̳̼̘̓̒̉̓́͂͘͘͝
̴̛̼̻̱̈́̏̆̄́̕͝
̷͇̰̎̂͐̇͜͠"̴̞̝̍̈́̊̾́̆̇̊͛̽̽́͝Ì̶̛̗͆̑̊̈́͋͆͗́̈̕͘̕̚ ̴͙̩̂̆̍̌͗͊͑͋̀͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅk̶̡̘͇̱͔̟̹̫̣̪̯̎͗̂̓́͜͜͝n̵̫̭̞̩̘̪̬̯̯̋̈o̸̞͛͂̑̀̐͂̓̌̆͘͠͠w̶̡͚̟̭̥̠̠̪̜͌̀͐̉̊̆̍̃̉̋͊̊.̷̢̢̡̣̪͓̖̥͉̈͜.̵͙́͂̓̽̑̏̋̾̚ ̵̠͙̠̟̼̦̱͓̺̞̝̬͐̌̾͌̐͒̌͒̅͆̅͐̔͋͜͠ͅļ̸̙̗̤̬̼̤̹͆̆́ͅe̸̡͇̠̲̩̱̖̫̖̫̫̲͔͇̊́̾̍͝t̸̟̄̊̔́͝ ̸̛̭̲̄̔͛͒̓̊̂́̄̉̃͐͘m̸̛̳͚̥̋̀́͛͆͒̀͆̎͐͒͗́̍e̶̤̾͆̎̾͗́͆̍̽̚͠ ̸̢͕͚̗͚̗̑͑͂̈́̉̆͛̈́̇̚̕͜͝a̴̛̮̟̯͍̜͎̞̗̼͉͚̼̓́̔̒͂̆̊̀́̚ͅs̴̢͙̗̝̄k̴̢̧͇̠̻̮̫̯̬͐̌̒̄ ̴̨̫̲̠͛͋͑͌̔͒̐̚̚y̴̱̮͈̹̫͙͂͆̈͜ơ̴̼̄̂̽̔͠u̶̢͉̙̣͈͙̯̘͉̹̯̦͓̐͑̇̀̔͜ ̴̛͖͙̮͕̲̹̫͉̦͕̾̑͜s̵̛̲̲̟̊̊̈́̉͑̚ö̴̻͍̦̞͉͈̰̰̟̝̻͙͉̱́̎̈́̓̓̅͂͑̊m̴̢̻̼̗̫͎̲̘͇̆͒́̃͌̈́͠ẹ̸͔͓̜̮́̔̌͆̂̋̓̓̕͘t̶̡͙̱͓̑̔̀̽͗̒̈́̽̊̓̈́̚̕̚̕ẖ̴͙̫̮̖͓̭̰̬̲̓̀̆͌̓̄̑̑͒͌̊̉̆̚͜͜͝ȉ̷̧̢͚͎̘̼̘̲̪̉̄̈́̍͝n̶͚͎̟̼͕͇͙̻̜̹̪͑̔̂ģ̶̛̳̫̪̹̟̜̫̻̝̭̯̱͓͂̐̓̓͆̓̈́͜.̶̡̺̬̝̗͖̪̣̮̭͈̩̬̼̣͑̾̅͝"̷̛͕̪̦͙̤̋̄̈́̊͆͋̂̄̾͑̅̇͝

He would then get up, while still pointing to his own crystal.  Soon he would make a crossing motion in the air, nearly around where his crystal should be.

"Now, my question to you.  It's the exact same, but a much more significant change.  Take out the crystals above us.  Take out the crystals above us.  Take out the designator, and think; we are all these ones and zeros. ..think; we are all ones and zeros. These bodies that are standing in front of each other, are nothing but shells of data that are being filled by a mind someplace else, as so I am told.  ..nothing but shells of data..  Without the designators to show who is what, would you then think that everyone is connected to the other side?  ..would you think that everyone is connected..   Would you think that everyone should be saved, not just players, but NPC's.  Would you think everyone should be saved..  Not because they are life like, but because you can't tell the difference.  Would you save the loved one?  Would you save the boy?"

His voice seemed to get rougher and less tangible as he continued, as though he was going through a tough experience.  To the hunter, it seemed that NIGHT's hair was slightly weird.  The light must have been playing tricks, as the dark raven hair seemed to be blue.

Would you save another life?  "Would you save another life?"

Hirru picked up his torch from the dug out hole.  His stern look subsided back into his old smile, but the corners had a weird angle.  As if, he was smiling through pain, but didn't know what to do with it.  Looking back at NIGHT, their hair had returned to it's dark luster.  The pained smile diminished.

"Sorry, I let a little too much come out on that one.  I must be more tired than I thought."

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Specific.

They were each being specific, on their own merits, to each other, NIGHT had observed. She took a gulp, watching Hirru considering her question, trying to hide a falter behind her searching eyes. Some anxiety -- was it her, thinking so? It must've been. Her companion's story had seemed concrete enough to fail giving away loose tension, amount from an unknown origin.

The only one keeping secrets here must've been her, NIGHT would think.

She followed his finger as he gestured towards the markers above their heads. Clueless. The woman understood not what Hirru had meant, being able to trust others 'more than anything else' -- sure, they were working together, but certainly he too must've had his own reservations, right?

"As I can see the green or orange colors and think, 'there is someone that is attached to the other side there.'"

The corners of her own lips tightened, but she nodded along, trying to follow.

"They value their life as much as I do. I can trust them to lead all of us to a better future.'"

A brief moment in, and she was already lost, just as much as she had been found in the seconds before.

(Who's to say the beings of this world don't value their lives as much as players do? That human-kind; thinking, feeling, would act in the betterment of their own future -- would they fix their gaze upon the benefits, the potential of their growth if it meant the elimination of what was preserved in this world?)

"They may act like people, and at times become the people that we wish to help. However, they are designated by this game with a yellow marker. It immediately designates them as part of this world alone, and that they have nothing that connects them to the other side."

(The same, really. They were all the same.)

"Except for a select few, like Durares, whom was destined to die as a boss, and never appear again; all the rest of them come back at some point. I can't quite see myself befriending one anytime soon, if they would be able to be reborn and forget all that was."

(Hence, expendable, they would mean nothing to the puppeteers that use them.)

(Abandoned by Cardinal. Abandoned by players.)

(There was either a god that existed in this world, cruel and malicious, or there was no god, no faith for the people that lived life as they did on this earth, in this Aincrad.)

In the time Hirru had taken to quiet, in realization of his speech, NIGHT simply continued to stare at the ground before the man unmoving. It was the shift of his colours in her periphery that directed her to shift her head upwards, but neither did her attention follow.

She was wondering if there had to be hope, somewhere, for the denizens she'd wanted to leave unbothered.

"Now, my question to you. It's the exact same, but a much more significant change."

NIGHT wasn't thinking, but she gave him a nod all the same.

"Take out the designator, and think; we are all these ones and zeros."

"These bodies that are standing in front of each other, are nothing but shells of data that are being filled by a mind someplace else, as so I am told."

"Without the designators to show who is what, would you then think that everyone is connected to the other side?"

(The other side?

She hadn't thought much about the other side in a while. It wasn't important, was it?

No, it was. It was their end goal. But the destruction left in their path...)

"Would you think that everyone should be saved, not just players, but NPC's?"

(Shouldn't everyone be saved? So the ends justified the means, was what they were saying. Was what he was saying. That they built and shaped the world that they lived in.

But the game demanded violence. Violence to beget violence, to beget violence.)

"Not because they are life like, but because you can't tell the difference."

(And there was a difference, wasn't there? The markers, shifting, told them who was worth what, their weight in favour, opportunity, meaning. They were worth something.

The colours, the colours.)

"Would you save the loved one?"

(Would she save the loved one?)

"Would you save the boy?"

(Did she really...)

 

(Wait, boy?)

And there was a jolt that shook the woman awake, a struggle in her systems to temper her breath, restrain it for what it was naught, and she fought back the urge to query what their conversation was about again. Would she save the boy?

Clearly, NIGHT was the worst sort of student.

"Would you save another life?"

And Hirru had to be the easiest sort of teacher to adapt to.

 

She watched him dig, grab the torch from its dirt mound from the sands. A pained smile, the sort that the woman thought she could connect to.

But there was something off about the pain. Something different. That they were on the same sides, same angle, same perspectives.

Different actions.

And actions spoke louder than words.

 

It was her who stayed silent for that while, falling into step with the man as he turned -- they were headed somewhere, she could recall, at least. Then, as her answer...

"Mm."

When their shuffles were mixed in a flurry, she would dip her head, hands in her pockets, a sharp gaze offered to the sea. An elaboration. A soft murmur, a confessional, stern but warm and delicate and a secret.

"I would. I... I would."

It was after a swallow that her gaze started to shift, and her lean, her footsteps strayed the woman just slightly off their path.

"And... if they were worth the trouble..."

Her pacing stayed for a few seconds.

"I'd do it. A thousand times over, I'd do it."

 

Her steps were corrected soon after, NIGHT noticing the distance between players growing, unintentional.

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A slight smirk would grace the now straight face of the hunter before disappearing once more.  NIGHT had answered his question, and he couldn't quite tell, but there was quite a bit going there.  This entire conversation, after her own question seemed quite odd.  She sought the hunter for a reason, and it all seemed to come to this.  There is something in this world that she deems worthy of her protection.  He took a step forward, but he staggered.  Shifting his feet to catch himself, it would look like he was slowly loosing himself to exhaustion, and maybe he was.  He had talked far too much on the matter, and it was far past time for him to retire for the night.  His mind was wandering too much, and he was starting to see faces that.. whose face was that even?  The hunter was not sure anymore.  This was the first time that he had seen anything like that, and it was.. eerily familiar, as if it was someone from his past.

"Huh.. I guess there is quite a bit more to it than I thought, then."

He shook his head as he thought aloud.  Although, it may have sounded like a response to NIGHT's answer, it was more towards his own realizations.  Turning to look towards the woman that had walked with him, he would be met with the black haired NIGHT.  His eyes squint a bit before relaxing once more.  It won't happen again, it seemed.  He sighed.  There wasn't much else to do but to continue, though..

"Well, now that we have some kind of understanding, or what not.  What will you do with that information now?  I'm guessing there is something more for you in this than just that."

He then shook his head.  It wasn't right to do that when they have already said so much with such little words.

"Never mind that question.  I'm not going to pry.  We all have our secrets."

He turned towards the path that he was going to follow and stopped.  Putting his chin in between his fingers once more to think, he decided that it wasn't really worth it anymore.  Hirru was sure that NIGHT had found her answers, or what not.  There was no reason to go through with the rest.  He turned on his heel, with the precision and sharpness of a soldier, and started to walk back the way they came.

"I figured that I'd show you where we fought the labyrinth guardian to end where my memories stopped for that whole event, but I don't think we need to do that anymore.  The main issue was what happened on the 23rd floor.  Everything that happened after until I fell into the dark isn't necessary.  All that I can say, is that I talked it out with my brothers-in-arms.  They understand why I did what I did, and still choose to have me by their side.  That's all I cared about then."

Stepping closer to the dark colored individual, he nodded to her.

"Now, I need everyone else to understand that too, and to let them choose if they want to allow me to fight by them too."

Edited by Hirru
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  • 2 weeks later...

There was a hint of a flinch; a shiver, from that cool night air as Hirru contemplated, and NIGHT had imagined his comment directed her way. Nerves steeled themselves as the man set his eyes back on the player, and she glanced his way. She hadn't made herself that obvious... had she?

"What would I do with..."

She'd paused, just as her companion shook his head. But the lack of an answer given was more so due to a similar sentiment from herself. What was there to do with such information? If anything, the woman did contemplate if any brokers had wanted that intel, and then set that thought aside once Hirru threw out the query.

Their gazes found the horizon towards the labyrinth site. And when the man explained his position once again, NIGHT took his response in. Understood which side of the blade would be pointed at her should they choose to take sides, if ever, once again.

(Each stitch, each pixel of her make was praying underneath her calmed façade, that it would never come to that conclusion.)

"Now, I need everyone else to understand that too, and to let them choose if they want to allow me to fight by them too."

She nodded back at him. "I don't suppose you'll find that many detractors. Given that the players you speak with are willing to listen, of course. ... You'd explained your position well. I'd... learned a lot today."

The woman winced once more, looking out to the dusk, a hand wrapped around her neck. Social niceties were never her thing. If this was the end of their conversation... They were far from the settlement. Was she supposed to say good bye?

...

"-- Oh, right. Your teleport crystal."

Fingers worked their magic and a small deposit of col was transferred over to her associate. "There's a little extra in there, too," NIGHT explained, her eyes meeting Hirru's. "For the trouble. I didn't expect the tale to take this long... That, or I'm losing track of how time passes in Aincrad again. Made you stay out late. Same for myself."

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"Really think so?"

Hirru was quite intrigued if he was becoming quite the linguistic speaker, but in reality, he was sure it was something that this person was already invested in.  NIGHT had learned something from him, because she was actively seeking it, at least that's what Hirru could see.  However, there were people that would not listen proper.  Those people were those two, Hidden and Macradon.  He could already tell that Hidden would be just like Opal was in the past, but there would be no hidden soft side.  The part that he once knew that gave him a final farewell before their death.  No, Hidden would not have that for Hirru, and would not receive it in turn.  She had shown her hand.

Macradon would be the hardest to convince.  His heart was full of anger and discontent, and for good reason.  They both led and tried to keep the Knights of the Blood Oath alive, even though it was never going to live without more members.  The only two knights could not hold up everything, nor could they hold each other up.  Hirru took over the Vice Commander role, but it was not to be.  His first raid as leader was that dreaded incident.  Mac's trust with his former brother had been shattered and broken past repair.  It was heavily evident from their labyrinth search.  He would have to do more than talk to convince Mac.

"Well, we'll see, I guess."

As Hirru was about to head back, NIGHT gave the hunter a little money, as recompense for the used crystal and a little more for the talk.  She didn't really have to do that, but he wasn't going to have a transfer battle over col.

"Thanks!  It's alright, though.  Personally, I thought that I would be talking to more people tonight.  Though, this wasn't too bad either."

He also thought he was going to be stabbed again, but that's another thing.  He waved to the silhouette of NIGHT as she seemed to nearly disappear into the darkness.

"Good night, NIGHT!"

Edited by Hirru
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NIGHT shook her head at Hirru's response. Multiple people at once? They'd just had the raid meeting; she wouldn't want to host another, smaller one. Neither did she feel herself fit for that position, nor did she want to pick a player as their target for the hour of war. A straightened back from being hunched over, and she folded her arms. "If I'd mentioned Hidden, it was because she made herself involved upon your situation, when you announced it. I might speak to her another time."

What light from the torch and their surrounding lights pulsed for a moment, when the player murmured, eyes faded and set upon the sands. "I don't think I'll need to, though..."

Hirru waved to her, and NIGHT was liken to nod back. Quick reflexes guided her fingers towards an inventory shortcut, with which she'd summoned a blue crystal in air. A quick grab, a shatter, and a look back at her companion's position.

"Thanks. You rest up, too."

Light enveloped her figure before she was whisked back home.

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