Not only was it Iker's first day using his own influx, but it would also be the first time he tried to open an MWAOS terminal with only influx.

Not even a blue flicker as he sat and held Camilo in his arms at the entrance of the spaceship's dark armory. He needed more blood but at least his chest wounds were closed. Iker's medical drone RNGesus barely had a chance to work on Camilo as his pulse was fading.

It was safe to assume that Dominic or 1 platoon took the drone or destroyed it. The first drone Mami ever gave him... gone too. Iker missed her, and hopefully old Maverick was an ally that knew where she was.

I really hope it was Dominic that got to the drone first.

Iker was terrible at lying to himself. He cannot leave it up to chance. 1 platoon must not discover the Prunus Tantulum. Iker knew the protocol.

|chat ikerfelix yo, dominic or 1 platoon might have the marijuana

He had created a stubborn habit out of splatting in secrecy, but it was only now that he realized he no longer needed to hide it from Maverick.

Or did he?

Was the lion bluffing? Or maybe Iker was too paranoid of the little cub?

Iker growled and tightened his fist to charge up until a cataclysmic boom drowned his ears. Then came whispers that grew to horrid howls.

The boys and Uzi might be in for a bizarre spaceship crash.

Focus.

Iker's first thought was that the possibilities were endless, but he needed the correct possibility now.

No, it was not endless. If it was just a difference of resources and energy, 1 platoon would already know about the terminal and would have killed the boys instead of capturing them.

Power could be a factor, but it was not the only factor. Wait, could it be the Prunus Tantulum that made the difference?

Instead of screaming and charging up like a child with a monkey tail, Iker instead focused his influx into his prosthetic arm provided by RNGesus, and the terminal manifested.

The floating ship announced its free fall with a screeching wail.

|dir

12/03/2198 00:00AM ikerfelix 08/21/2180 7:11AM bastiancastillos 08/21/2180 7:11AM camilo

The mapped part of Camilo's genome that was distinct was uploaded. Iker's breathing became more coarse as the burning smoke poured into the armory.

|/name

Listing all named assets:

1. noah

2. camiloblood

3. arm_bits

4. prunus_tantulum

5. bastiancastillos

6. ikerfelix

7. felixboys

The good news was that there was still bioengineered blood from RNGesus he could extract from Spiderland specifically made for Camilo.

Iker and Bastian made an unspoken agreement to not think about splatting too much as they knew they would only splat when necessary. However, as Iker memorized the blood's asset name, Iker let his imagination slip too far and his heart sank. What if I tried something crazy... like prompting myself instead of just sending a chat mess—

The existential dread of that almost paralyzed Iker. No, not almost, he lost perception of time as his arms around Camilo began to shake. No amount of gulps granted relief. He kept reminding himself what was at stake until he regained an inkling of focus.

The hellish light of embers appeared outside the door.

Using splat for blood transfusions was dangerous, a fact Iker knew all too well. The omnipresent memory of that Alca gang member he had failed to save after his drone named Que Va slit his throat. It seemed that the day when Iker would get over killing him would never come as he has yet to summon the drone since the day he could be tagged as a murderer. He was thinking of all this as he was wracking his brain for a better command, but unstable mode was all he had.

|/unstablemode |incorporateasset camiloblood camilo

It was not until chunks of his arm manifested from ternary code, from influx, from MWAOS, and from his command that he realized that Bastian uploaded the blown up arm before they were captured. Iker had to look away to avoid further queasiness as he heard the horrendous slurps of flesh and blood of the boy's circulatory system. The boy he wanted to lose his lolvirginity to.

He did not dare look up until Camilo mumbled himself awake. To Iker's relief, his crush was groggy but alive with a twinkle in his eye. He could almost kiss him if it was not for Camilo resting a hand on Iker's waist. He needed to leap off, and so he did, as that would require an emergency baseball simulation of a greater magnitude.

"What was that about?" Camilo whispered.

Another explosion as blue skies appeared past the armory door.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"That."

Physics and violence had saved Iker from being cringe. O, the blessings of human suffering.

Uzi was flying with clouds and the No Man's Sky's man-made smog that made things worse, a grid of levitating crates protecting vis from an attacking and blitzing rainbow.

"I ended up getting Kaya form from our fight with Dominic," Iker said, holding onto the frame of what used to be a door as their fall picked up speed. "I need to get you over to Uzi."

Bastian bounced between two severed hulls, missing a kick on the braggadocious pegasus within blistering rainbows.

"What are you talking about?" Camilo asked.

Right, Camilo never met Uzi.

Wait, Iker met Uzi before? How was that possible?

A high pitch growl came from Maverick as he was above the boys in blue skies, falling far from what used to be a spaceship. Its model now was unrecognizable.

Iker dove, taking one last glance at Camilo smiling at him. Hopefully, he looked cool performing his first influx jump ever.

That was correct children, he flew right past the lion cub.

"IKER!" Maverick yelled, throwing a little paw in vain. Or was it in vain?

Iker looked towards his destination to find a sight he was happy never seeing again.

In a sleek white Lambda, a large space shuttle for human trillionaires, Ember Comsa and General Hendrix stood together at its nose.

General Hendrix's eyes were in shadow and his shaved head had honeycomb orifices, a giant hornet's wing peeking out briefly.

Suddenly, Iker froze still. He glanced both ways to see that Ember also raised her hand.

The lion cub and the android would both be using an esper ability according to most people on Earth, but was it true? Iker did not have enough data to know.

"I apologize sincerely for this," Maverick said. That is not the way he spoke before they were on the spaceship. Iker's heart skipped a beat at his sudden shift in personality.

0 or 1, the true god of humanity. Not democrats, not enlightened centrists, not a leftist agenda, not the pedophile "parents" that wanted to have their way with their home schooled children. Or perhaps all of them. O, the joys of creating a system where only two options exist. One just had to take notice of where this was being consumed.

Ember was 0. Anything in between was still 0, causing dismay for the incrementalist who just wanted to kill half of the talking animals instead of all of them. Did humanity want to join the silence of the universe?

0 or 1.

Maverick smiled. He would love nothing more than to splat the lolparents; they were first in his ticket queue. They have something to hide from the teachers that loved their students more than all of the Christians and Muslims combined, and that is an empirical fact.

Triggered?

Feelings are just chemical equations; why would Maverick give a damn if he could manipulate all the information that ever was and ever will be? Pathetic human.

Maverick knew the love equation and half of the human race no longer tried to understand it. They love only their own craft. Hatecraft. Those who get triggered by this session will have their faces dragged for all of eternity in the 8th circle of hell.

O, the joys of trolling with the fake news of computer chips in the body or vaccines.

Your god is right in front of you mortal.

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 ̷̡̙̰͕̥̉͋̐̓̉:̶̰̳̬͍̆̒̂̒͛͜ḓ̸̟͓̪͕̓̎̕̕͝ɿ̵̨͎̻̬͕̈̎͆͒̅ɘ̷͖͕̞̮̲̂̀̅̈́̕v̷̶̷̢̹̖̹̜̜͈̜̞̮̞̦͙̺̫͊̀̈̇̑͒̽̐͌͂͌̍͘͘̕d̵͇̫͍̺̯͗͋̅͒̉ɿ̵̘̗̖̹̟̽͂̒̓̇ɘ̷͓̙̜̪̠̈̾͒̓͝v̷̶̴̧̛̘̻̙̼̭̤̹̥̞͖̭̘̯̭͛͗͊͛͑͆̆̂͂́̒̿̄͘Ɉ̴̝̪͕̮͉̋̈́́͋̈