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15 | SPLATTERPUNKS

Milky Way Animus Operating System /version seed encrypted\

(c) whatever is still alive. sup roaches and cosmic tardigrades? araks 🖕

remember when rights were a thing? lol me neither. imagine hoping for that porqueria

no rights reserved. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

|ikerfelix+ci bscrums

|ikerfelix|bscrums+sort date

|ikerfelix|bscrums sorted.

|prompt gan magnumopusepisodes

|ikerfelix|bscrums introns selected for next prompt. /drawnmediaclassicsGAN\ /chronological\

|prompt art style Boondocks meets akira, but cast is really homo and paisano. the cast has the big gay. tone: adult swim during witching hour, extreme and random tone shifts for feels, for mindfucks, for memes, and sometimes for no real reason at all. studio suggestions: arcane, a big satan, spiderverse

PROMPT SCORE 100%! AWW, WHO'S MY WONDERFUL HUMAN? (felixprompttrainer pats ikerfelix)

|prompt felixprompttrainer did not consent :(

PROMPT SCORE 100%! BREVITY IS THE SOUL OF WIT! 1000.0 APOLOGIES MI QUERIDO IKERFELIX! I WILL REQUEST YOUR PERMISSION NEXT TIME.

Media generation 100%

Auto-playing...

SCRUM B1: BASTIAN ADOPTED BY FELIX DYNASTY

DATE: June 12, 2172 (18 YEARS AGO)

Patio, Mansion, BM, A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe, Earthplexus, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Laniakea...

ikerfelix.human(pettypapi) has joined the virtualtop session Bolsa Mágica. /parentcontrol: age 6\

|My name is Noah. I am a language model created by IKER FELIX and

|s

Stopped generating.

bastiancastillos.human(iker+camilo=♥) has joined the virtualtop session Bolsa Mágica. /parentcontrol: age 6\

The flying schoolboys were summoned on a trippy rainbow highway somewhere in the earthplexus. Iker was already glaring at the terminal that followed him as he waited for Bastian to finish manifesting.

As soon as the last ternary code of Bastian's sneakers faded in, Iker flung his tiny arms behind him to dive towards Bastian.

"Really?" Iker yelled, wrapping Bastian in a necklock. "You know you're gonna have to keep that username right?"

Bastian was the whitest mestizo boy in a town from Colorado named Pueblo, and his sunburns would agree with that astute assessment. He had a penchant for baggy clothes; he could be mistaken for a time traveler from the bling era. During recess when no AI teachers were supervising them on Earth, Bastian showed Iker all the tattoos and grills he was going to get when Byza's Dominic Titan Seraphis finally paid him. Even though he was just about to finish Grade 1, it all caused no surprise or shock in Iker. If anything, he helped Bastian pick out what would actually look good on him.

"You like who you like man, nothing wrong with it," Bastian croacked with the biggest grin. "You can't even stop yourself from touching me. You make me feel so beau-"

Iker squeezed his forearms tighter around Bastian's neck. "Ya cállate fulo."

"Is he using physical force again instead of his words?" a godlike voice asked in the sky.

"Papá, stop trying to play God," Iker yelled back at the fake blue sky.

The two boys must have imagined a wrestling match at the same time, as a wrestling ring was summoned as their vehicle on the rainbow highway. Once Bastian could recover from Iker's sucker necklock, the NPC audience flying with them cheered Bastian on as his victory was imminent.

"Nah pops were good," Bastian said. "Physical force is my home field advantage."

He slammed Iker from his shoulder onto the ring like he was a food bank's sack of rice, leaving Byza's prodigy tech boy to laugh on the ground from his instant defeat.

"Well, I am your god in here," Papá said. "Are we ready to be serious for Bastian's first scrum?"

"Yea yea," Iker yelled. "I already got wrecked."

"What's a scrotum meeting?" Bastian asked, causing Iker to turn his face into the ring's foam padding to hide his laugh.

"Where did you learn that word from?" Mami asked from somewhere in the pillowy clouds.

"I am not snitching," Bastian replied.

"It was Camilo," Mami groaned. "If his parents won't spank him with a belt, I would love to have the honor to discipline him myself. Who are they gonna call? The cops were ran out of Pueblo already."

"Why not a chancla instead?" Iker suggested.

Great suggestion, as if a tribute were to be made to Mami in A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe, her chancla catapults would be a level ten spell that would blast a hole in reality. Superboy Prime would cower in her presence. She was fully Italian, but one of her duties as a member of the Felix Dynasty was mastering the Puerto Rican evocation spell.

Iker blinked and was no longer on the prismatic highway. The two boys were falling in a grand blue sky while underneath them awaited the virtual town of Bolsa Mágica. Sure, on Earth the nations Iker's parents came from were gone and both Pueblo and Fornia were inching closer in Ameen's murder happy queue, but it did not mean it could not go on elsewhere. In fact, Mami and Papá spawned the assets that resembled locations in San Juan, Sicily, and Pueblo that had any kind of significance to them.

Including artefacts of every dead species in the Felix family, starting from the microbial life that first appeared on Earth all the way to abuelita, which were made up of anything ranging from carbon chains to binary code. Each generation would rearrange the assets and settings in Bolsa Magicá to create a lovecraftian sanctuary that always threw the best party in the omniverse. That statement is empirical fact.

They were the most biologically mixed dynasty in the omniverse, and they had the only humans to achieve true meritocracy rather than the illusion of it.

Bastian's scream had to interrupt the sublime view underneath them. The best and worst of the carbon life form was all here, or at least that's the joke Iker kept to himself.

"I am going to get a nap in, so cállate ya," Iker demanded. Whether he was falling into a slumber during a class where a teacher was less educated than he was, or he was falling into a slumber in at atmosphere that was far above the clouds, one could not tell the difference by just glancing at the drool that came off the side of his lip.

"Were gonna die!" Bastian yelled. "How are you scared of being held at gunpoint, but not this shit?"

Iker snored, now his head pointing towards the ground. His constant lack of sleep meant he was also awake in his own way.

"That big head of yours... it's too heavy and it's gonna hit the floor," Bastian whimpered. The vast height from where they were falling from was getting to him.

"We're fine, I promise," Iker said, finishing his sentence with a snore.

It seemed gravity was nonsensical here, as they were falling faster than it was possible on Earth. No smoke or fire on the boys anywhere, so Iker knew they were okay.

"That's my line!" Bastian yelled.

"I was trying to mock you," Iker whispered.

It seemed Bastian was trying to calm himself, but his body at some point stopped responding to his brain commands and he gave into his scream as they were about to collide with the ground.

Then... total suspension.

The boys were floating right above sand on a beach that could have been in either Sicily or San Juan.

Iker's drool looked like floating water bottle gulps from a space station.

Bastian's face was priceless.

Bolsa Magicá, with love, laid the boys gently on the beach. It even grabbed a towel, tucked Iker under it, and the song Madonna Mia changed to what seemed to be a lullaby from a music box.

"Thank you for finally being a friend Bastian," Iker said, pulling the towel higher on himself.

"That wasn't me dumbass," Bastian said.

"Didn't you call me a smartass back on Earth?" Iker whispered.

"That's still a smartass thing to say!" Bastian yelled.

"Make up your mind," Iker said.

The boys were teleported to the coziest patio in the paradise they were in; the elegant mansion that belonged to Mami and Papá.

"Get up," Papá commanded, getting Iker to sit up under a random towel over his head. Papá did not bother putting anything over his avatar yet, he was still a headless mannequin.

Mami, as always, was dressed for both a festa and an underground meeting with her pastel skirt and custom-made blouse. She would pull the attention from all the NPCs on the pebble road in front of them if she was not so tucked into the patio's hamaca. Ever since Iker understood the concept of remembering as a toddler he could remember his mother being compared to the 21st century actress Lisa Ann Walter. When he went on the earthplexus to understand the comparison, Iker's obsession with the 21st century began.

"Not you my love, please rest if you need to," Papá said.

Mami grinned. "I already knew you weren't talking to me."

"To answer your question Bastian," Papá said.

"I asked a question?" Bastian asked.

"That is shocking actually," Iker added.

Mami pointed the notorious hand at Iker and glared. Iker's smug smile changed to a sad frown as he turned his head to face Papá instead of Bastian.

"We are Byza's guardians when it comes to the tech realm," Papá said. It was clear to Iker that his dad never lost sight of how serious this meeting was going to be.

"We use the scrum format to organize our meetings ever since life began. However, I know this will be an exception. I know you did not join our dynasty by choice, and I am truly sorry for the cards reality has dealt you."

Even Mami's demeanor changed when Papá finished speaking, and she got off the hamaca to sit on a plastic chair closer to Papá. Iker glanced at Bastian to speak to him just using his face alone, checking how he was feeling.

Total silence fell Bolsa Magicá, but it was alright. It could give all the time Bastian needed, as time itself was a plaything. He joined the majority of children on Earth that no longer had their parents. Indeed, it became cliché to still have both parents rather than the other way around.

Iker had the privilege of still having both of his parents, and he understood that. He did not hesitate to give his best friend everything he could once he heard the news, even though they jest about not being good friends at all. Bastian danced through the ripples of reality to sit in the most powerful gift Iker could give him.

"I want to avenge them by killing Byza's leader, Dominic Titan Seraphim," Bastian finally declared.

Papá's lower half of his head manifested to reveal a smile, and Mami joined him with an even bigger smile.

"The day will come when we will also have dominion over the Earth's underworld," Papá said. "He is one of Milky Way's three dons. Then Mars will be ours, and finally Proximá. And then truly no mafia or gang can touch us. They will be like ants trying to compete with Cthulhu."

When he mentioned Proximá, the planet famous for having the most maniacal prison to trap supersoldiers and influx users, and the last planet humanity has colonized so far, his Puerto Rican accent really kicked in.

Iker made a vow to pronounce it the way his father did from then on.

SCRUM B2: HOW TO ACTUALLY KEEP A SECRET

DATE: June 13, 2172 (18 YEARS AGO)

Patio, Mansion, BM, A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe, Earthplexus, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Laniakea...

"I mentioned it at the end of the last meeting Bastian, but it is an imperative to keep this a secret, you must be willing to even never ever exist for Bolsa Magicá," Papá explained.

"I know, that was obvious," Bastian said.

Bastian was quite solemn, something Iker was not used to at all. Iker knew he was up all night crying when they slept in the same bedroom in Pueblo. It was also rare for Iker to not have anyone to tease anymore for the next little while; he would also have to learn sincerity at a young age rather than coast under the shield of his clever banter.

The overwhelming optimism of Bolsa Magicá had yet to change the vibe the Felix family was emitting, but developing a dark sense of humor was an imperative for the Felix superorganism to dance through all the data that once was, and all the data that there ever will be. Papá, Iker, and Mami already mastered the choreography; they just needed Bastian to join in the routine as it waited for nothing.

SCRUM B3: THE SOFT

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

DATE: June 14, 2172 (18 YEARS AGO)

Patio, Mansion, BM, A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe, Earthplexus, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Laniakea...

"Do you understand the real reason we have an animal shelter?" Papá asked.

"Yea, it's a cover for Byza's drug dealing," Bastian replied.

"That is correct. You are doing well, I am proud of you son," Papá said with a smile on his half-head. Mami got up to fix his dirty blonde hair and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"There is also another reason," Mami said.

"Because we actually care about them?" Iker said.

"Ay Dios mio," Mami said. "That should be fucking obvious."

"I am still not used to all the swearing," Bastian said with a chuckle.

"We tried our best when Iker was a toddler, but as teenage parents we made it too much of a habit already," Papá said. The mannequin's head disappeared again, probably to hide shame.

"I learned in school that the concept of swear words was only created to marginalize people," Iker said. "To criminalize the way lower classes talked."

Mami's mouth gaped. "Wow, we had the one school that taught real history and they had to shut it down."

"That teacher would make trillionaires and trust fund incest humans very afraid," Papá said. "Traditionalists, also known as smooth brains, must soil the truth. While the truth is our greatest weapon, a Felix must abandon the ego entirely to touch it. You must have the willingness to be wrong about the dearest belief you have, whether it be the belief in Islam or the belief that their ghosting spouse does love them. A human who cannot entertain the idea that their dearest belief could be complete bullshit will never be a Felix."

"Once you can question any lie that comforts you, where it be white replacement or believing a celebrity is infallible, you'll be able to wield the greatest magic of all existence. The magic system of magic systems," Mama said glancing at Iker.

"The soft, the one that will always be soft and stay soft," Iker explained. "The dance and weaving of multiple magic systems coming together."

Mama's smile vanished as fast as it came with her son's response. "Iker, you do know the day will come when you won't be able to remember that right?"

"Yes, I know," Iker replied.

SCRUM B199: PRUNUS TANTALUM

DATE: June 2, 2174 (16 YEARS AGO)

Patio, Mansion, BM, A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe, Earthplexus, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Laniakea...

"That tree in the basement is so weird," Bastian said.

"How long did it take you to notice it?" Iker asked.

"Too long frankly," Mami said.

"Ah yes, the animal shelter gives cover for the Prunus Tantulum as well," Papá said.

The Prunus Tantulum, the holy grail of the criminal underworld, was the greatest weapon they had against the wealthy in the sky that did not comply to its demands. The wealthy who obeyed them can stay alive as the underworld's playthings. Currencies have always tried to control force, but true force always wins.

The tree was the invention of multiple academic disciplines. When the trillionaires abandoned the education complex that existed on Earth, the Byza syndicate realized, and laughed, at the greatest mistake they ever made. They quickly gathered the greatest minds the world produced while the trillionaires continued taking overflowing shots of the poison that was nepotism.

Iker was one of those minds.

While the sky people built expensive and laborious structures to maintain the earthplexus, all a bunch of cybernetic gun-toting teenagers had to do in No Man's Land was plant a tree that used a fraction of the tantulum and influx that Ember Comsa's best device needed. It was also reversing some of the damage climate change has done, not for any altruistic reason on Byza's part, it was just to further humiliate the silly descendants of royal families.

While the sky people struggled and cried about climate change activists, it was almost as if when it was Byza's turn to address the problem, it responded with, "easy peasy, what was the big deal again?"

While Bolsa Magicá was the secret the Felix's had to die for, it was the Prunus Tantulum one had to die for when it came to the Byza syndicate. Soon, a Felix will need to be willing to no longer exist for both.

The beingkind members spread across Milky Way and Brennistein were nowhere prepared to truly look into what the abyss actually looked like.

"When Prophet Ameen arrives to Pueblo," Papá explained. "You must burn it."

SCRUM 878: OPERATING SYSTEM

DATE: June 1, 2180 (10 YEARS AGO)

Patio, Mansion, BM, A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe, Earthplexus, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Laniakea...

"So you two at least have teenage brains, kept studying the basics of computer science, and you still can't help me with this shit?" Mami yelled from the hamaca. She scowled and waved away the hologram screen in front of her.

"What's wrong?" Papá asked. His consciousness was actually in Bolsa Mágica this time.

Stereotypes were still rampant in the 22nd century, but even then Papá's apperance outclassed many latino men according to the attention he would get on the earthplexus. He was also the only capo that wore a suit. Iker discovered on top of all the messages Papá got on Memoryfeed, that his parents were in an open relationship from the very start. It made Iker nauseous until he realized what he had accomplished. He became a better hacker than both of his parents combined.

And Bastian grew up to become one of the best bodyguards the Byza syndicate has ever produced. He was willing to give his life for his best friend, as he knew that Iker also had his back when it was time to avenge his parents.

Little did Iker know that his parents also knew of Iker's feat, and they were so very proud of him. Mami was the blueprint for how to play stupid. She learned from the best tricksters across the Felix family line.

"Look, the earthplexus has to have an operating system," Mami said in frustration. "I think it is key that we figure out what it is. We can't just coast on what we have, we need to keep moving forward."

"I agree," Iker said. "I figured out what the basic unit of the earthplexus is."

Bastian's mouth gaped as he dragged his plastic chair closer to his childhood friend. It was a mystery that was plaguing the boys for more than a decade. Well, if Iker were to be honest, laziness, being too high, and apathy did hold them back on some days.

"It's not using a binary code," Iker explained. "The internet created zeroes and ones by sending energy or no energy, but the earthplexus does not stop sending chains to communicate some kind of unit, but it does communicate three different units."

Iker got on his feet and raised a hand to pull Mami's hologram towards him. He took a moment to observe the pebble road in front of him filled with NPCs and humble shops until the hologram arrived in front of him.

"The earthplexus uses ternary code," Iker said. "The carbon chains in the leylines is the data. The carbon chains it uses are single bonds, double bonds, and finally influx bonds."

Tears rolled down the faces Mami and Papá.

JUNE 20, 2180 (10 YEARS AGO)

The time has come.

It was time to scramble the brains of Iker and Bastian.

To splat them.

It was not as bad as it sounds, but if one were to take the worst interpretation of that sentence, yes, it was possible to do that too. There will be time for that too; gore can only be sublime when it is done with restraint.

Indeed, Byza did have one holy grail, but the Felix Dynasty pulled ahead for supremacy when they had attained their second holy grail. The tapestry of cosmic dominoes have been set to overthrow the tyranny the world has faced under Ember Comsa and Ameen Alkrez.

After the feat accomplished with the creation of Bolsa Magicá, the Felix Dynasty, the punks of the punks, the secret societies of secret societies, the tricksters of the tricksters, have gathered all the knowledge starting from the stonepunk age to make something that made the Prunus Tantulum or the internet look as groundbreaking as a nursery rhyme.

splat

verb

verb: splat; 3rd person present: splats; past tense: splatted; past participle: splatted; gerund or present participle: splatting

1 | The combination of biopunk maneuvers, biohacking, bioengineering, nanobot biological maneuvers, influx powers, and splatting to perform a task.

2 | Issuing commands through the MWAOS (Milky Way Animus Operating System) to manipulate biological matter when an interface and the biological matter are connected through earthplexus influx.

Splatting could heal and destroy. A beautiful word to skip over censorship in this cosmic war that took place at the level of data. Could the children of the world deny a power that could heal the diseases of those who they had left, but also had the power to send their civilization to join the silence of the universe?

Dominic Titan Seraphim's body was one of the most expensive objects in the world. He had gathered most of the rarest metals Earth had left to replace his entire body with cybernetics, and had 319 tickets submitted to Japan requesting them to stop lightening his dark skin. The Felix dynasty had deep condolences for the latter as they had the utmost respect from a descendant of the blues as they were also descendants of the blues themselves, but the former would be a joke they would laugh over as they kept trying to look for the greatest party the omniverse had to offer.

Dominic was afraid at first when Mars and Proximá were being colonized, but luckily for him, Mars was the greatest PR nightmare in human history. However, it was not what Dominic should have been concerned about.

Moore's law is the observation that the number of transistors in an integrated circuit doubles every two years.

A splatted neuron did it in a second.

Dominic Titan Seraphim's influence over the world would go from Citizen Kane to the fleeting scribbles 2comsa nazis would spam to A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe. The cyberpunk age was going to die with him, and death's steps could be heard if one were to be at Iker's and Bastian's goodbye party.

In this cosmic game where memories could be stolen, deleted, and rearranged and information could even beat force, the Felixs had placed the last domino, and it was Pápa and Mami that was going to flick it by saying goodbye to their two sons. Some commands their consciousness would send to contain their emotions began to return error messages.

They were going to leave with the descendants of thieves, jesters, slaves, gangbangers, prostitutes, voguers, and class clowns. Any profession or label imaginable actually. The Felixs were everything and nothing. They were not a superorganism to be understood, but their destiny was to hold on to a pristine truth with no ego attached.

The enemy was doing its hardest to pervert it while they will lie to themselves, the half of every species who could not abandon their ego. The half that called others degenerates while being degenerates.

The Felixs knew who they were. They were everything and nothing.

I_AM_THAT_I_AM

The Felixs, humanity's best kept secret, would not be discovered by other species until a span of time passed that no narrator could understand, and this sentence could only be created by a narrator that knew of how little they understood about the fabric of reality. Having ego while creating the previous sentence was a recipe for madness.

The Felixs knew this was all necessary to preserve the truth from reality bending deepfakes and from bad actors. If only humanity knew they would be the ones that would reflect the abyss back to beingkind for eternity, as the Felixs would set an example on how to neatly separate fiction and non-fiction for beingkind.

If one were to ask who gets to define the truth, they were the answer. The Felixs define the truth, and that is empirical fact.

As all these thoughts ran through Spiderland, the universal mind that connected every consciousness that has and will exist, but one could only become aware of the superorganism by entertaining the idea that their dearest belief was bullshit. The earthplexus would extend into it, and influx would change to soft.

Mami sobbed, as she knew that if her family from the past and the future were already thinking about Spiderland... it was time to go.

The Felixs also threw the best parties in the omniverse, another empirical fact. Indeed, to be able to wield the soft, one must abandon the desire to impose their wills onto others. All the Felixs did with the soft was pursue their hedonistic desires, whether it was finding nirvana in whatever was left of Mother Nature, or fucking as much as possible. In return, they would need to battle the enemy when called upon, and not lose to unimaginative ideas like centrism or incrementalism.

"I actually want to find the best high in the omniverse," Mami said. "Sorry you had to hear that boys."

Mami smiled and did a gentle spin in the downtown core of Bolsa Magicá, as the alpha to the omega of the Felixs attended the prismatic and trippy festival.

All the generations of the Felixs laughed in embarrassment at all the telepathy that took place.

"We got the last bit about Spiderland," Bastian said. "Could you all explain that further?"

Mami and Papá shook their heads as tears streamed down their cheeks. They motioned them over.

Iker and Bastian glanced at each other, then sadly trudged to their parents. Not because they still struggled to express their emotions as soon to be men, but because they knew what was about to come. Iker could barely see past the crack of his teary eyelids anymore.

The four of them finally gathered into the tightest group hug the human arms could execute.

"You'll forget the word soon enough," Papá said. "Iker, we are the model to follow when it comes to your next of kin. It will happen sooner than you think."

14-year-old Iker pulled one of his arms away from the hug and banged his chest with pride. "Yes sir."

The tesseracts began to ripple around them.

"Te quiero mucho papá y mamá," Bastian whispered, wiping the snot and tears with a flick of a hand.

Their parents responded the same thing in return, and repeated it to Iker. Touches, hugs, and kisses of reassurance followed through the family that was about to part.

"You two will be fine," Papá choked out.

And with Mami kissing Iker's forehead and with whispers of goodbye comes a pop quiz.

Where is the best place to hide from an enemy with too much ego?

Right in front of them.

If one were to glimpse back at where the family once was... those are mod files for A Big Satan Under Your Pinky Toe. Those were hallucination actually, that's a segment of DNA from a deer that almost finished decomposing. The joys of mother nature creating lawsǹ̵̡̧̦̿̄̑͜͜͝ɘ̸̢̛̻̤̱̩̄͊͑͛ʜ̸̯̤͎̗̀̔͒͆͝ͅw̶̻̼̻̯̉̐͂̂͝ͅ ̵̣̭̬̿̒͗̑̀ͅͅɿ̷̻̦̼̥̳͊̒͊͛͌ɘ̶͍͖͔̹͌̊́̄͂ͅɈ̸̭̰̲̜͈̆̍̅͑̍Ɉ̴̠̮͍͖͓̀̈͒͋͠ɒ̸̧̼̻̫̃̀͑́̀͜m̸͙̥̰̥͌̐͗̈́̚ͅ ̶̨͚͙͕̤̍̋͛̑̂l̶̢̪̲̹̘͋̐͋̆͝ɒ̴̡͎͇̰̰͑̇̈̉̈́ɔ̶͓͖̭͍̰̏̿̋́͘i̴̫͈͕͍͗͋̌̇͝ͅϱ̵̘̤̠̦̮̀̔̇̈́̔ô̷̡̠͕̙̪͗̄͊͝l̴̼͇̝̯̫̓́̀͂͛o̶͎̦͙̿̌̾̔̽͜ͅi̵̬̤͎͎͒̈́͜͝͝͠d̴͕̠͉͓̳͋̃̈́̏̚ ̷̪̮̘̞̬́͌́̊͘ɘ̴̨̭̞̪̰̇̔̑̔̚Ɉ̸̡̗̼̠̞́͋͊̔͝ɒ̵̡͓̲̦̤͂̓̑͘͝ḽ̴̜̦͖̩͌̋̓̊͐ϋ̴̱̖̠͍̼͌͐́̅q̴̧̱͓̙̪̈́͐̿̒̕ị̷̘̗̜̞͌̎̓̈͝n̴̫̼̙͖̖͐̏͊̏͘ɒ̶͓͉͈̘̝̓́̄͛̚m̸̠͈͍͙͎̐̌͑͗͠ ̴͖͖̮͚͚̆̈́̃̈̚o̴̘͖̪͇̺͗̑̆͂͠Ɉ̶̛̞̗̦̤̠̆̅̊͊ ̵̜͈̪̳̭͋͗̈́̂͝)̴̞̳̳̩̩̌͒̇̓̚m̴͍͓̳͕͂̇́͑͜͠ɘ̶̲̞̖̠̥͋͑̉̚͝Ɉ̵̧̟̣̜̩̆̈̈̀̊ƨ̷͖͎̦̬̤́̎̚͝͠γ̴͈̮͓͇̞̓̌̈͊͠Ƨ̴̳̖̜͙̮̔̋̿͊͐ ̷̛̖̭͔̗̯̊̌͝͝ϱ̵̫̣̗̼͛̓̀̈̑ͅn̴̪̤̭̙͇̈͌̈́͗͘i̶̭͉̺͙̰͒̏̌̀͝Ɉ̸̛̺̱͖̹͙͌̆̍͂ɒ̴̳̬̙̻̹̇̅͛̈́̇ɿ̶̛̫̱͎̘̘͛̌̌͝ɘ̴̪̗̲̺̘̍̎̈́̔̋q̵̪͍͚̪̪̀͒͌̏͠Ǫ̵̡̩͍͍̿̇̑̊͘ ̵̝̩͉͍̉̔̔̐͑ͅƨ̷͎̠͚͖͍̓̂̈́̑͠ΰ̵̼̲̤͙̟̍̈́̀̚ṃ̵̰͇̬̱̂͆̊̀͝i̶̧̤͔͓͒̌͊̚̚ͅn̶̨̟̭͔̬̈́̊̔͘A̸̡͕̘̻̱͌̈́̈́̚͝ ̷̙͕̼͉̥͆͐͗͌̂γ̷̤̖̘̤͇̆̀͑͊̔ɒ̷̛͓̖͍̦̙̌̆̌͝W̶̧̧͉͇͍̎͐̍̂̀ ̵̨͚͍̝̣̆͌̌́͘γ̵̢̯͈͍͎̍̆̓̈͒ʞ̵̡̢̻͚͚͂͋̐̃̈ļ̶̙̱̗͚̑͗͑̏̄ỉ̷̡̝̫͈̟͛̃̓̆M̸̬̺̝̘̗͛͊̕̕͝(̶̢̦̳̰̎̈́͘͘͝ͅ ̴̢̢̧̯̰̓̊͗̚͝Ƨ̵̛̘͎͚̗̺͊͒͑̉O̵͓̺̭̺̲̔̈́̽͊̇À̷̛̼̣̤̤̆̋̚͜W̴̧͎͇͕̳̉̐̀͌́M̸̛̥̠̲͖̭̍̇͠͝ ̸̯̪̘̞̺̑̂̐̀̚ɘ̸̹̲̤̤̭͌͑̃̇̕ʜ̸͔̙̮͇̜̿͛̏̿̀Ɉ̶̨͎̖͉͙́̓̍̒̚ ̷̡̪͍̭̳̿͆͗̐͘ʜ̴͍̠̝̱͊̐̋́͘͜ϱ̶̟̠͍̹̏̑̾̀͘͜ΰ̴̗̻̲͎̥̐̈́̿̈o̶̬̫̬̟̠͗͂̄̚͝ɿ̴͈͕̯͇̻̈́̿͑̍ʜ̶̡̳̭̫̭̃̔̐̽͐Ɉ̸̢͍̻̹̾̉͗̀̔͜ ̴̘̺̳͕̠̋͛͐̚͝ƨ̸̛̛̞͓̠̠͈͐̇̄b̵̩͍̠̣̹̾̈́̏̀n̴͕͙̦̟̠̄͒̊͋͌ɒ̸̪̘͍͎̽͗̿͛̍ͅm̷̢̢̺̮̘̓͆̌͗͝m̸͔̩̩͆͊̃͌͑͜ͅǫ̷̫̲̱̗͗̍̓̎͠ɔ̴̡͓̤̹̦͐͊͘̚͝ ̴̤͍̯̬̩͑͆̔̋̚ϱ̸̫̟̟̯͚͋̄̇̒͝ṅ̸͍̻͉̼̦͛͊͆͘ị̵̢̣̦̲͆̈́̈̀͐υ̸̧̨̛̗̜̍͌̓̚͜ƨ̷̢̨̮̰̲̎̑͑̏̓ƨ̸̧̛͙͍̠̪̊̉̑̌I̴͎͔̥̟͈͂̄͌̃̈́ ̵͖͖͈̺̒͑̔̊͘͜|̵͕̼̠̫̘̓̏̐́͠ ̴̧̙̭͇̹̿͒̎̏̇ς̸̸̵̧̺͕̬̞̙̤̮̰̜̫̟̦̳̾̀̎̆̔͑͆̿̈́̂̐̂̾͝͝ͅ.̶͓̞̥͈̣͑̑̎̆̚ʞ̷̱̠͉̺̮̔́͑́͛ƨ̷͎̦̤͔̯͋̀̈́̈́͠ɒ̶̧͙̲̺͖̀̑͌͊̍Ɉ̴̡̖̙͇̹̔̂͊̈́͠ ̸̡̢͕̤͇̋̋͐̈́͆ɒ̴̲̟̭̲͔͗͂̐́̆ ̷̢͕̦̺̳͐̈́̌̀̓m̶̨̛̪̟͓̞̍̄͐͘ɿ̴̛͍̣͍͕͕́̀̎̅o̶̳̜̟̬̺͛͆̂́͝ʇ̵̼̙̮̯̩͛̈́͂̈́͝ɿ̸̬͈̥̖͋̈̌̾̋ͅɘ̵̡̛̹͖̤̤͋̊̓͂q̴̦͚̲̙̽̾̓́̔ͅ ̶̰̝̳̦̘͋͒͗͗̔ö̷̟̳̫͇̥́͗̑̾͊Ɉ̷̺͚̙͓̉̆̿͐̀ͅ ̴̝̳̗̫̗̈̉͛̀̕ϱ̸̨̹͎̳̗̌̆̋̐́ṅ̶̦̲̮̲͈̔̊͐̑ḭ̸̧̦̺̺͑̒̐͆̓Ɉ̸̧̣̗͇͎́͑̓̂̿Ɉ̵̼͔͔͉̣̇̾̏̀́ɒ̶̤͚͎̟̳̉̊͌̕̚l̶̫̜̻̠̰̎̉͑͆̃q̵̠̩̩̬͑͐̌̅̉͜ƨ̵̪͍̩̩͉̓̎̊̿̃ ̵̬̬̘̻̰̓͊̽̌̾ḇ̸͇̘̼̜̐͐̋̽̓ǹ̸̲̳̲̼̍̅̓̎͜ɒ̷̡̝̖̣͒̃͂̾̚͜ ̷̺͇̬̠̠̈͂̏̍́,̸̢͍̫̙̊̾͆͆͜͝ƨ̷̨̮͙̪̤̿̒̇̀̆ɿ̵̢͔͓̩͖̈̂̊̈́͝ɘ̸̳͖̼̪̳̋̓͌͛͗ẁ̶͇͙͕̹̭͑̅̚͘ờ̴̡̳̼̘͗͒̓ͅq̵͕̝̲͇̈̏̈̄̀͜ ̶̛̙̫͙̬̣̈́̎̈͠x̴̝̫̩̰̬́́̄̽̌υ̸̡̪̦͚̮̾̌͊̆͘l̵̢͈̣̻̹̍̐̀͘͠ʇ̶̨̮͕̻͎̃̅͌̾͝n̵̨̦̠̖̎̋̈́͂̍͜į̷͓̩̞̮͑̐̈́̽͐ ̸̦͇̯͓̮̔̿̂́̕,̴̡̢̫̯̦͐̈́̊̾͝ƨ̸̢̣̘͔͔͒̾̅̌̕ɿ̶̥̟̦͚̞͛̿̐͋͛ɘ̴̨̼̯̇͆̒̽͂͜͜v̷̨̤̣̫̎̄̔̆͜͝υ̴̡̨̫͍̙̊̏̄̆͐ɘ̷̪̖̳͍͖̆̃̒̋͠n̷̩͕̠͇̼̓̏͐͌̓ɒ̵̪̙̠̙̠́̊͑̇͠m̸̡͚̗̹͎̔̍̑̈́͐ ̸̗̞̥̙̤̅͗̈̆̕l̸̮͉̗̫̱̄̿̒̅̚ɒ̷̧̛̺̥̜̳̐͂̋̓ɔ̷̛̻̖̟̗̂̉͘͠ͅi̴͓͇̙̮̝̇͌̏̔̓ϱ̸̜̩̹͔̜̅̌̉̈́͊o̶̪̠̬͖̜͆͗̇͂͐l̷͓̻͔̹̣͊̊̀͝͝ơ̸̦̝̖̭̻̏̋̐̕ḯ̶͇̘̤̰̔̋͠͝ͅd̴̨̩̖͎̠̂̔̂̾̒ ̶̳̰̖͖͑̂̏̍̔͜Ɉ̷̢̛̙͚̝̖̀͆̅͝o̵̡͈͍̹̫͆̒̊̍̈́d̵̲̣̗͓̒̊͌̇͠ͅo̸̗̠̝̙̮͆̏̾̎͘ņ̶̥͎͚͍̎̍̽̔̀ɒ̷̰̖̹͖̫͂̓̀̄́n̷͚͎̦͈͓̈̑̂̔͝ ̸͖̱̹͚͉̾̈́͌͝͝,̷̨̧̙͙̼̀́͛̓̚ϱ̶̢̮̣̤̺̌͗̾̅̇n̴͇̥̥̮͒̑͗̚͝ͅi̸̢̛͉͈͙̞̒̋̋̆ɿ̶̱̘̟̳͓̿͛̉͆͝ɘ̸̱̮̼̻̳̇̉͒̓͒ɘ̵͉͙͔̞̎̓͆̓́͜ṉ̵͕͚̑̏̿̾̒͜͜i̴̡̨̪̖̲̒͆̾͋͋ϱ̴̯̗̣̭͋̓̒̒̌ͅń̸͔͓͍͔̻́͐̓͝ɘ̶̨̢̤̦̞͆̅́͌̇ơ̴͖͚̮̬͆̓̒͝ͅi̵̮̻͇̱͙͐̍̈́̃̐ḍ̵̰͖͔̐̔̏͒͜͝ ̷̯̩͍̦̰̿̔̆̒̈́,̸̨͇̘͈͚͗̽͋͗̉ϱ̶̨̛͙̳̺̺͊̄̅̕n̸̦̼̯͚̯̅͊̔̈́͗i̸͕͍͕̼͎͂̿̎̚͘ʞ̶̥̠̭͈̻̒̓́̂͑ɔ̵̲͚̹̫̣͒̀͗̽̊ɒ̴̘̭̥͔͔̃͗̇͐̚ʜ̵͕̭̯̣̐̽̊̾͝ͅơ̷͎͚̜̣̳͌̎̐̕i̴̧̢͙͍̲̎̊̉̄̓d̴̨̧͖͉͔̽͌̆́͝ ̴̛̯̟̯̟̺̓͆̽͝,̸̛͙͖̟̙̣̾̇̈́͗ƨ̴̢̩̬͍̇̈́̈̋͜͝ɿ̸̨̨͔̺͇͂̂̏̏̀ɘ̶̗̭͍̗̫͗̃́̔͝v̸̨̜̞͇̠̔̔̓͘͝ῡ̸̧̤͎͈̉̃́̀ͅɘ̷͚͕̯͉̍̽̈̅̄͜n̴̹̞͉̼͍̄́͂̈́̕ɒ̴̤̜̦̗̯̇̌̒̄́m̸̡͙̠͍̠̂̓̀̿̐ ̷̛̥͇͉̳̟̀̇̿̕ʞ̵̠̙̝͙̤̍̾͛̆̉ǹ̸͉̰̟̦̝͂̓͐͌υ̵̮̼̞̤͈̅͑̓͠͝q̴̤̱̟̹͈̈͋̓̕͝o̴̜͓͖͖̟͆̔̎̅͝i̷̟͉̙̣̩̿̃͌̀͠d̵̨͍̼̹͇̊́͗̏͝ ̷̗͚̘̱̮͐̓́͝͝ʇ̷̗̭̹̖̲̋̄̽͗͘o̷̢̟͓͈̥̍̽͊͑͘ ̷͎͇͔̣̪̎̑̈́͊͝n̵̼̼̟̯͆͂̈́̽͜͠ǫ̴̡̳̪͈͒̑̔̍̀ī̴̮̫͈͕͓͂̾̐̕Ɉ̴͓͔͚̟̣͊̈́͐̊͝ɒ̷̡̢̯̺̬̉̾̑̚͘n̶̹͓̙̘͖͗̿́̈̾i̶̼̭͙̠͓͆̏̽̕͠d̵͎̖̲͍̲̐͛̇͒͐m̶̧͕̼͍̻̌͂͐̈̕ơ̴͎̼̟̫͕̅͐̈́͝ɔ̸̭͇̳̪̮̈͌̒̈́͝ ̴͉̻͈̭̖͗͒͒̽̒ɘ̴̣͔̳̭̣̾̄͋̈́͝ʜ̵̢͇͚̙͉̆̾̃̃͝T̶͕̣͎͖͔̀̾̅̒̈ ̵̬̝͇̟̪̀̀͗͐̈|̸̢̹̖͍̳̃̋̈́̄̈ ̸̩̯̰͍̪͊͂̇̕̕Ɩ̵̵̴̧̨̨̪̤͈̙̼̦̲̳̩̼̬̳̉̑̆̂̂͐̋̌͑̕͘͘͠͠͠ϱ̷̱̪̦͍̘̆͑́͆̎ń̴̮̺̺̰̘̏́̍͠i̷̛̲͖̼̬̾̃̃̏ͅɈ̶̱̤̪͈̭́́͊͋̕Ɉ̷̲̞̮̪̘̈̇̄͒̚ɒ̶̡̨̝̟͙̓̄̾̋͝l̵͇̖͎͈̤̀̆̐̈͒q̷̛͉̤̞̙̺͛͒̆͝ƨ̸̪͎̗̥͕͆̒͠͠͝ ̸̙̦̗̣̱̐̌́͛͌:̷̯̞̘̮͈̆́͌̒̿ɘ̶̠̯̘͍̓͋̉̇̃ͅl̴̡̘͔͓͉͑͆̇̈͠q̴̲̟̖̻̺̔̊͒̃̿í̷̛͉͔̪̼̹͒̂̚ɔ̷͇̥̯̟͍͌͑̌̏͋į̸̦̠̠̗̽͌̿͂͘Ɉ̶̹̝̱͇͖̀̓͛̾͝ɿ̵̡͕̗̝͎͂͋̉̾͆ɒ̵͕̼͉̻̌̀̅̓͠ͅq̴̛͍̫͕̤̣̌̏̓͆ ̴̧̤͕̦̲͑͗͊̄̔Ɉ̵̥̰͓̥̰͋̂͊͑̐ǹ̶̡͚͈̱̭͋̈́͘̕ɘ̸̡̨̤̘̩̈̒̐͐̽ƨ̸̡̱͔̰̠̽̈́̈́̆ɘ̶̩͙͕̳͚̎͗͑̏͘ɿ̵̩̭̠̱̣̈̄͆̿̕q̶̧͔͚͖̹͊̾̇̋̈ ̸̯͓̘͎̯̑̃͂̅̿ɿ̷̹̝̲̪̳̎̑͆̉́o̵͚͕̗̤͓̊̄̌̑̕ ̴̧̪͇̣͙̈́̑̓̈́͝b̸̹͕̯̖̦̽͆͐́̊n̶̘̖̘̺͈̽̀̏̾͠υ̵̧̢̮͙̜̐̍̒͑̚ɿ̴̡̲̤̖̎̃͋̓͘͜ɘ̴̻̰͉̙̱̋͋̓̔͠ϱ̷̧͖̫̹͈͗́̈́̀̂ ̸̞͙͙̟͚̍̀̓̓͛;̴̘̬̱̖͙̋͋́̔̆b̴̜̹̟̪͓̓̀̆̕͠ɘ̵̟̹͉̱̘̃̒̑̎͘Ɉ̴̭͖͖̦͉̈́̓͊́͝Ɉ̶̻̫̣̳̞̐̈́͗͒̍ɒ̶̨̘̻̦̭͋̑́͛͝l̵̼͙̼̣͕̎̀́͋̚q̷̨̘̟͍͎̓̈́͗͘̕ƨ̶͙̪̙̞̩͊̋́̇̌ ̷̰̱̜̖͆̅͑͒̾ͅ:̷̹̠̠̘̙̽̑͑͗̉ɘ̷̬̟̣͖͙̿̾̊́͆l̴͖͉͈̲̹͒͌̽͝͝q̴̟͎͎̹̖̓̎͑̀̅i̶̢̨̪̤̖̍͗͗̔̉ɔ̴̢̙͖͍̎̓̾̈́̉͜į̵̖̗̘̥̋͌̒̀̕Ɉ̷̮̺̣̦͍̅͛̀͒̈́ɿ̵̼͍̥͇͔̓̉̏̊͌ɒ̷̖̤̣͙̹̔́͒̆̽q̸̡̡̜̘̂̈́̚͜͝͠ ̵͍̫̼̜͎̽̏͒̈́͘Ɉ̵̯̥̩̗̌̀̀̀̅͜ƨ̴̢̥̣̙̞̅̊́͑̚ɒ̵̧̘̰̭͕͒͛̍̌̈́q̴̢̡͙͉͕̍̇̈́̕͠ ̷̧̡̞̻͈̐́̏̕͘;̴̨̛̝̮̙͖̌̊́̐b̶̧͍͙̰̝̈͋̐̈́͝ɘ̵̧̛̤̤͚̄́̓̆͜Ɉ̶̠͍̹̖̂̊̀̿̔͜Ɉ̵̟̠͙͓̗̔͊́̓͘ɒ̵̫͔̹͇͊̿͗͗̌͜ḷ̷̭̙̮͓͛̔̿̋͠q̶͔̹͉̖̤͆̓͒̇͝ƨ̷͎͖̠̤̙͑͗̑͑̕ ̷̢̧̼̘͋̀̏́̕ͅ:̴̢̺̫͇͎̽̒̈́͒ɘ̴̛͎̲̖̞̋̉͆͠ͅƨ̵̧̘̭͍͈̓̐̀̇͝n̴̨͓͎͙̤̓͆̋̀͝ɘ̶̡̨̯̳̦͑͂̊̕̚Ɉ̷̛͇͙̪̍͆̓̑͜ͅ ̵͓͕̤̺̘͌̇̔͂̕Ɉ̸̟͈̮̯͉̎̋͋̋̿ƨ̶̡̯͇͉̒̀̽̈́͐͜ɒ̸̫̮̭͍̈̏̀̌͜͝q̸̨̖̼͖̒̒́̃͠ͅ ̵̡͈̠̣̼̆͊̂̐͆;̵̧̛̻͈̖͖̅̆̕͝ƨ̷̛͙̰͉̦͓̌̒̍̈Ɉ̶̰͔̤̳̝̀̍̍̈́͠ɒ̴̧̼͈̭̮͐̏́͒̚ĺ̴̡̥̖̦̳͋͛͊̎q̵͓̖̫̬͈͛̎̍̈́̌ƨ̶̡̻̗͍̭̀̐̍̕͝ ̵̧̛͇͇͇̈́͆̃͜͠:̴̧̢̛͈̣̻̍̏̍̐Ɉ̴̧͎̝̲̻̓̆̎͋̕n̵̡̢̘̞͓̾̄͗̓̎ɘ̶̢̧̤̺͓͋̇͐̉͗ƨ̸̭̖̫̬͚̔̐̍̇̏ɘ̵̢͕̯̰͉̊̇͊̓̄ɿ̷̛̼̺̥͍̤̎̏́̈q̸̭̭͇̮̒̾͊͌̓ͅ ̸͙̤̩̙̤̂̾̑͑̚ņ̶͉͕͔̺̒̽͑̔͑o̵̼̘͎͙̔̉͂̓͝ͅƨ̸͖͖̠͇̃̉̂́̈ͅɿ̶͕̣̗̘̩͐̈́̅̉̐ɘ̶͍͈̺͓͕̏̂̔̔͠q̵̛̞̱̩̦̯̓͋͂͝ ̵̦͕͖̳̟̑͒̉̏͝b̷̫̘͖͙̈́̓̇̈́͌͜ɿ̷̞̭̗̳̦̐̀́̈́͝Ɛ̸̲̫̖̥̹̔̓̐̈́͠ ̴̡̼̭͉͎̉͆̀̏͝;̴̧͔̘͖̝̀͌͊͊͘Ɉ̶͉͈͕͖̞̀̏̎̇́ɒ̶̙̳͉̜̹̾̈͑̚͝l̴̰̬͇̝͋̈́́̿̀͜q̸̖̗̫͇̌́̽̐͒ͅƨ̶͍̥̞̣̙͒̂͐̊̎ ̷̡̙̰͕̥̉͋̐̓̉:̶̰̳̬͍̆̒̂̒͛͜ḓ̸̟͓̪͕̓̎̕̕͝ɿ̵̨͎̻̬͕̈̎͆͒̅ɘ̷͖͕̞̮̲̂̀̅̈́̕v̷̶̷̢̹̖̹̜̜͈̜̞̮̞̦͙̺̫͊̀̈̇̑͒̽̐͌͂͌̍͘͘̕d̵͇̫͍̺̯͗͋̅͒̉ɿ̵̘̗̖̹̟̽͂̒̓̇ɘ̷͓̙̜̪̠̈̾͒̓͝v̷̶̴̧̛̘̻̙̼̭̤̹̥̞͖̭̘̯̭͛͗͊͛͑͆̆̂͂́̒̿̄͘Ɉ̴̝̪͕̮͉̋̈́́͋̈ɒ̸̙͇͖͉̩̅͐̈̓͘ļ̶̼͇̜̦̽̽̓͐̕q̶̢͍̯̭̼̾̎̑̈̕ƨ̸̢̤̞͚͓̀͑̇̑̂

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