Jack vomited blood, some teeth, and the remains of his breakfast on the stone pavement, desperately trying to stand up. His legs hurt, and he was pretty sure that the last stomp had liquidated bones in his foot. His fingers got swollen and refused to obey him, forcing the trucker to use his elbows to lift himself up. He felt a trickle of blood coming down his jawline.
“One,” a mocking voice said, counting seconds.
How did it come to this? Just this morning, he went to Susie’s to grab breakfast and chat a little about the coming weather, when windows started shaking and strange freaks raced across the streets, firing at everyone. He dropped to the floor, praying to the Planet for his life, and saw Susie’s head coming clean off! Where was the constable!?
Oh… His fingers touched brain matter. There he was, lying in the middle of this makeshift trap. Unknown soldiers, all geared in gold and steel armor, had dragged him and the others into the street, laughing and cheering, drinking alcohol, and forcing people to amuse them. Some had to run across overheated coals, back and forth, until their feet burned to the bone and the poor lads fell down in the flame. Others, young men and women, served as pleasure toys for the conquerors, their pleading screams deafened by the sound of cracking flame.
Feeling desperate, Jack stood up, shouting at this scum to stop violating people and receiving only laughter in return. He half expected to be shot at once, but the leader of these raiders had given her men the order to construct an arena made of iron poles. She gave the citizens a choice. If they can as much as touch her, she’ll leave the people alone. Should they fail to do so or fail to stand up in three seconds, forty people would be hanged. Even now, the people were lined against the walls, standing on rubble with ropes around their necks.
Looking at the overweight woman, Jack, the constable, and others agreed. Surely it could not be this hard to touch this three-meter-tall bald woman with her flappy hand and columns of flesh for legs, right? The raider only smirked and grabbed two iron poles. Jack was the first to rush at her and the first to scream in pain. She simply disappeared, turning blurry and bringing a metal pole to his shoulder blade. For half an hour, they blindly rushed against the arena, desperately trying to touch her, crying out in pain as she thinned them out.
Laughter was the worst of it. She laughed, and her soldiers laughed, the mocking voices drowning out Jack’s screams. Laughter seemed to come from everywhere, making Jack’s hurt head spin.
“Two,” the raider sang, giving a chuckle.
“Don’t you worry, lasses and lads, uncle Jack was in a worse rumble. This? Ain’t nothing much,” he mumbled, fully knowing it to be a lie. He was a trucker, dammit! The only dead body he saw in his life was that of his elderly grandpa! And now here he is, surrounded by death and blood, his pants wet, his bones broken. And still he forced himself on his wobbly legs, raising bloody knuckles to try to win.
Because there was no one else. They were all alone, and Jack will be damned if he gives up before his body breaks. Strangely, he only heard the raider’s laughter now, but even this sound made his heart hurt. He must win! Just a touch!
Jack charged at the raider, looking tiny against this mountain of muscle and fat. Her fat mouth spread in a gleeful smile, and beady eyes looked at his feeble swing, so much slower than all before. This time she fully humiliated him, dodging just as his fist was about to touch her armor, granting him a false hope just before leaving him in despair at this missed millimeter. A hot pain brought Jack to his knees; her casual hit tore through the jacket, taking a chunk of flesh from his back.
“One,” the raider laughed again, tapping him against the chin with the pole.
I can’t do it anymore. Jack cried, trying to stand up. His back hurt, even worse than that one time when he threw it during loading. His legs simply refused to listen. And taps continued. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“You are boring. You bored me,” she chided, keeping tapping him. “What say you? I grant you life if you choke the life out of them? Nice deal, yes?”
He froze, remembering his own elderly mother back in Houstad City. If he dies here, who will bring her tea and massage her legs? Will anyone race her to the hospital in a time of need? He is just a civilian, after all; it’s the damned army’s job to fight and keep them safe, and there is not a single one of them in sight anymore. He paid his taxes; he has his dreams, and he might even do the hostages a favor by ending the suffering, he… Was a man. A human being.
There were kids among the hostages. What sort of vile being will he be if he raises even a finger against them?
“I…” He saw her leaning closer. “I say. Fuck you!” Jack forced one last smile and lunged, hoping to grab the raider by her leg. His fists only grasped the air, and the cruel woman laughed.
The mighty hand moved, preparing to make a swing that would slice his head clean off. The raider has finally grown tired of this mockery.
And it came down, tearing through the air like a helicopter blade. At least it will be… The strike never came to his neck, stopped dead by a hand in a black gauntlet. The first clenched, crumbling the metal pole, as the raider jumped back, shouting something in an unknown language.
“Two, bitch,” a voice growled, and Jack looked up.
A figure standing was just as tall as the raider, no, even taller! Armor of the darkest color reflected no daylight; twin crimson lenses looked at the raider, while an elongated helmet, sculptured after a wolfish head, showed an open mouth filled with sharp fangs. When the armored figure soundlessly stepped forward, Jack saw a golden symbol of the Reclamation Army on the elbow.
A Wolfkin! Jack saw news of their arrival to Houstad, but before he only worked with white-furred ones, pleasant sirs, and ladies who always held themselves with dignity. When they marched to war, their forms were clad in magnificent white armor, with cloaks billowing behind their backs. And this one right here was their wild cousin. Jack only heard rumors of their savagery; other truckers spoke in hushed voices that these monsters would often steal kids from cribs, eating them alive before wailing mothers, and cannibalize on any and all during certain seasons, leaving entire regions desolate.
“The hostages are secured, and trash has been taken care of, Wolf Hag Kalaisa!” an icy voice said, and Jack looked around to see a scene of carnage.
Raiders lay face down on the ground; some had their spines ripped off. Blood flowed from the buildings where their scouts kept watch; now black-clad wolfish figures rummaged across the roofs, cruel-looking rifles on their backs and their claws painted red. Several Wolfkins were busy treating injured civilians and liberating hostages from the ropes. A girl cried, trying to get to her mother burning in the flames, and one soldier snatched her, pressing her face to the armored chest and gently patting her on the head. The soldier reached into his pocket, gifting the child a toy, made in the image of Commander Outsider, whispering a promise that it would protect her.
The murder of over sixty people has happened so quietly that neither Jack nor the raider’s leader has noticed anything.
“Good. Appropriate some vehicles, treat the wounded, pack up our people, and keep your eyes wide open. We don’t want to get jumped on like these clowns,” the tall Wolfkin grumbled, and someone lifted Jack, carrying him out of the cell. “I want to save at least a thousand more before night comes!”
“Don’t you mean kill a thousand, Wolf Hag?”
“I know what I said. Besides, we can multi-task; Janine and Ygrite have taught us well. Give me a moment or two; I need to work out my anger.”
With thundering steps, Kalaisa walked to the raider, who grabbed a curved sword from the sheath on her back. Kalaisa simply loosened her own claws, making Jack tremble from their sheer length. And soon, Jack heard not laughter but screams of pain.
“You are a damn hero; you know it, pal?” said the soldier who carried Jack. “You distracted them long enough for us to sneak in.”
“I am no hero,” Jack mumbled, feeling that he was about to faint. “I even lost my trucker hat.”
“Are all normies this weird?” The Wolfkin smirked and leaned forward to sniff him. “Don’t ya worry, I’ll find it.”
****
Maria rushed through the forest, ignoring sharp branches that tore at her clothes, leaving bloody slices on her forearms. Trees around her village were changed during the terraforming; their branches carried long spikes capable of slicing the flesh of an unwary traveler to the bone. Back when she was a kid, she once ran into one such spike, earning herself a black eyepatch for life.
But now she didn’t care. Three soldiers of the provincial guard formed a triangle around her, helping Maria and two kids run while she pressed another, a boy barely two years old, to her chest. She didn’t even know him or any of these kids, but this morning the soldiers from the garrison arrived in panic, shouting for everyone to run. They barely managed to get a few people in the bus when a first strike came. A shell fell from the skies, cleaving through Old Ben’s house. The next thing Maria heard was the loud screaming of engines and blurring machines rushing back and forth along the streets, leaving bloody corpses and herding survivors to the square. It was her cue to grab some kids and rush into the woods, accompanied by a few soldiers.
Shooting and screaming behind them stopped, probably meaning that the Provincial Army in the village had given up their lives. Maria never even knew the names of those soldiers near her; she just ran, feeling her heart about to burst. A sorrowful chuckle left her lips. The teacher always said she should’ve taken better care of her form and cardio. Both kids endured the run far better than she did.
But I will endure. Get the kids to safety, then you can die, you stupid, useless girl! She cried, thinking of her cat back home, of the nice and small house she had poured her entire life into. I am sorry, Tisha; I am so sorry… Planet, please watch over him. Take my life; preserve his, please.
“Shit!” a soldier near her cursed, turning around.
With horror, Maria heard the ear piercing from before. Throwing just one glance behind her, she saw blurring forms driving past the trees, tearing through branches with ease, spikes harmlessly breaking against the riders’ armor.
“Run! We’ll distract them!” The soldier roared, turning his machine gun.
“I wanted to see my mommy,” another soldier whimpered, holding the weapon with unsteady hands.
“Hold it together!” Her comrade said. “Just a few more minutes. Hold, for the sake of the living.”
She ran. Maria never once turned back, not even after hearing an explosion of grenades or a wheezing moan that somehow came through this horrible sound. Not after the barking of the rifles died in the booming sounds of energy weapons. She ran, dragging and begging the kids not to fall.
Think, think! She pleaded with her brain. Maria was never smart. It was part of the reason she barely finished school and had to stay in her village. Something in her brain prevented the young woman from learning new words, making her forget things. But seeing a small cliff ahead, a smile flashed on her lips. She came up with a plan! And it’s a good one!
She almost pushed the kids down the ravine, making sure they landed safely, and handed the youngest to the serious-looking girl. Smiling weakly, Maria whispered, “Run to your left, okay? Just run and keep your heads down, and all will be fine. You’ll get plenty of cookies, and there are people to help you. Just be quiet, please.”
Maria stood up, turning back to where the lights flashed through the darkness of the forest. She waved her arms and shouted all the obscenities she had learned in her brief career as a waitress in the local pub. And rushed to the right, leading three hover bikes away from the children, praying to the Planet to grant her this one, small mercy.
Please. I ain’t smart. A spike hit her in the shoulder, drawing blood and scratching against the bone. The sound of screaming engines behind her grew louder, and a small tree cracked, unable to endure a collision with the vehicle. I am no one important. But please, Planet, please! Give me this! Grant me strength to save them!
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Her breath stolen, her blood turning cold from fear, Maria turned around, seeing the bikes almost upon her. Tears flowed from her eyes, and her knees gave in. Thoughts of how cruel blades would bisect her small body made her want to scream, and she pressed her hands together, recycling a simple prayer. What would her Ma say, seeing her now? Oh. No need to guess; she is about to meet…
A black body struck the side of the leading bike, toppling it aside. Its rider never had the time to scream; an immensely powerful hand tore his head clean off, throwing it aside. The two remaining riders wheeled their steel beasts, darting around the trees to take aim at the rising shadow. And at this moment, the forest spoke. Not with a rustle of leaves. Not with a creaking of wood. But with a roaring tornado of shots, which left fist-sized holes in both steel and bodies. The vehicles exploded in two balls of flame before utter silence came upon the forest.
Birds stopped their cries. Wildlife tried to get under the trees, afraid of superior predators. Even insects stopped making sounds. Trees seemingly surrounded Maria, almost as if the Planet itself had come to collect the debt. The one who killed the rider stood up, a monster like no other. Twin crimson lenses pierced her very soul; the newcomer stood taller than any person Maria has ever seen in her life. Streaks of shadow came from the armor joints, enveloping the figure in utter darkness.
Silly girl. She imagined hearing these words in the rustling of branches. You asked. You received. Pay up.
A tree spirit, a terrifying monster from the stories Ma told her, took a step toward her. Silently. Without breaking any stone beneath its leg. Without rustling grass. But tree spirits always hunt at full moons, and right now is still daytime! Everyone knew this!
Our girl. Trees promised her, and the helmet slid in two, one part on the chest, another on the back, releasing a cloud of darkness and allowing two dim yellow orbs to cast light at Maria.
“I understand,” Maria whimpered, trying to face the end with dignity. “I am ready to pay the price.”
The beast lifted its brow, looking almost comical for a second.
“We found some cubs, Warlord!” a voice shouted from the shadows between the trees’ trunks.
“No!” Maria crawled on her knees to the massive body, folding her hands in a prayer. “I am the one who offered myself! They have done nothing wrong! Please don’t harm…”
“You are safe, civilian; no harm will come to you,” the massive beast said in human body, lowering on one knee and reaching for her shoulder. Mighty paws tore the hem of her skirt, making a makeshift bandage. “Your home came under attack, am I right? Point me to it; I am freezing my ass sitting out here.”
Freezing? Maria wanted to laugh at this insanity. The summer was all around them! Despite her fear and horror, her body was wet with sweat, pleasant sunlight struggled to come through heavy leaves, warm and cozy weather dominated the region. And this furred giant seriously wanted her to believe that she was cold?
“There.” Maria pointed to the south. “Bad people came today, hurting everyone. There were so many of them…”
“How you tease me so,” the beast chuckled, tilting her head, streaks of shadow licking Maria’s chin. “All more fun for me. Hey? What is going on with you?”
Maria fell face down into the beast’s breastplate, her whole body shaking. She felt hot… no, hot was an insufficient word for a flame raging behind her eyepatch. Pain speared her body, making her contort and twist. The only reason her limbs hadn’t snapped was because her savior had gently grabbed her, pinning her small body down. Her throat went sore, a single tear came from her good eye before drying up on the skin.
“Scout! Hold her down; the girl is having a bad activation!” The one called Warlord spoke, and new paws took hold of Maria’s body. “I’ve seen it a couple of times before. Just keep her pinned, try not to get killed, and she’ll get fine in a few minutes.”
Fine? Maria wanted to laugh. Everything hurt. Her heart was about to burst, her lungs collapsed to the size of a nut, her fingers shook with the force of an explosion, and blood was dripping from beneath her eyepatch. A paw pushed its way into her mouth, keeping her jaws in place and holding her tongue. Maria was thankful for it; otherwise, she would’ve surely bitten it off. Someone turned her to the side, and she unleashed all the contents of her stomach.
“Is she going to be okay?” Asked a male voice.
“I don’t freaking know, male! I’ve never seen it before!” snapped a female voice. “Look! A light is coming from beneath her eyepatch!”
“Should we remove it?”
“Keep your paws away; it might be dangerous! Dammit, her heart is racing like mad! What in the Abyss is going on?”
Maria remembered something before darkness finally took over. Her Ma told her this story. When you ask something from the Planet, really ask for something, it will often respond. But this always came at a price. Often unbearable to pay.
Her missing eye’s eyelids opened wide, and a brilliant beam came out, tearing through the cloth and narrowly missing the scared Scout. Like a pillar of light, it struck the tree, bisecting it in two. In horror, Maria closed her eyes, containing the brilliant energy within. But even though her eyes were closed, she could see. And felt no emptiness in her eye socket.
The thoughts flooded her mind, bringing all the words she had been told and forgotten, rekindling long-lost memories, and allowing the young woman to see her Ma as if she were alive. She remembered everything—the happiness of being gifted a cat, the joy of eating her first ice cream, the embarrassment of her first poor grade in school. Both good and bad, everything Maria thought was lost came back, bringing something more along. Her muscles became swollen and strained, but it was a pleasant pain despite the tightening feeling in the chest. Bones pushed, elongating her body, and flesh followed, making her longer and stronger. With a crack, the thoracic grew twice its size, straining the gentle skin to the point of snapping and causing the soldiers to panic even more.
On this day, Maria gained power and became a new breed, breaking many theories that a human could only become a new breed in a mother’s womb or with outside interference and making it the first recorded event after the Extinction.
The person who stood up on wobbly legs hardly resembled Maria’s former self. A glowing orb shone brightly behind the closed eye; her hands reached all the way down to her ankles; the stomach rumbled, demanding sustenance. Mighty ropes of muscles bulged against her skin, still looking just as gentle yet somehow far more durable. The neck became thicker than her former waist; her hearts were beating like mad, pushing blood across the arteries; and Maria’s mind was clear. But through all this change, only one thing was on her mind, and the first words leaving her lips were:
“How are the kids? Are they fine? Not scared? Oh! There were soldiers with me; we must find them; what if they need help!? And my cat! We must help them all, we have to…”
****
“Take what you want; just leave people alone!” Jeanne stood before the walking mountain of muscle.
It all happened so fast. Just fifteen minutes ago, she and the village elder were discussing canceling the festival in the Planet’s honor. Yes, this year’s harvest was quite abundant, but it felt so bad to celebrate and rejoice when Houstad was hit so badly. She still remembered watching the news and seeing suffocated children being pulled from under the rubble. It gnawed at her very soul, and Jeanne, the abbess of the Church of St. Helene, had decided to act.
Truth be told, she wasn’t much of an abbess. She and one other nun were tending to the spiritual needs of eight hundred people, half of the population of a small village grown on the plains before the small church Jeanne called home. She never left this place, not once in her life. Ever since the former abbot found a crying infant on his doorstep, she dedicated her life to the faith the moment she grew old enough. Occasionally she and the nun went to help with harvest, preferring to earn their keep rather than live on donations alone.
But everything changed today. A host of violent-looking thugs had arrived, thankfully not harming anyone. A few members of her flock, unbelievers included, rushed into the church, bringing their kids, and she welcomed them all to hide in the vast catacombs, left from the times of Extinction. Even now, the nun was guiding them through the secret passages toward an exit located forty kilometers from the village, leaving just her, the village elder, and the constable to greet these lost souls. There were still people in the village, and it was their duty to keep them all safe.
“Nice place,” a bald man softly hummed, looking at the icons and the gilded symbol of a planet above the praying altar. The man pushed past her, touching an icon depicting how the world was turning from barren wasteland back to green. “Ah. Not actual gold. Keep this shit.” His eyes found her. “I am Caikhatu. My people have noticed a large crowd running in here. Fear not; as the new khan of his place, I will sell no one into slavery nor touch a single girl. Any of my men and women who dare will burn.” He looked at the rich fields outside. “Siding with Mad Hatter was worth it, after all. Look at these plains! Just like home, only richer! A worthy place for a village!”
“If it is a peaceful life you desire, then disarm yourself, and I shall vouch for the Dynast before you. The state welcomes all,” Jeanne replied calmly, ignoring the scary-looking woman dressed in a coat made of flayed human skins. Seeing a small face on this horrid tapestry, she pressed her hands together. “May the Planet guide you to a happier life, little one,” she said with tears in her eyes.
“I am not little, heretic.” The woman clad in a cloak came closer, amulets dangling from her neck. A hand ending with talons for fingers came from underneath the cloak, reaching for the abbess. When the constable stepped forward, the woman slashed, leaving deep wounds on the brave man’s face.
“These are my people you are harming, Jiguur.” Caikhatu frowned, reaching for the sword on his back. “Attempt again, and I will gift your wretched body to the Sky.”
“Threaten me, are you!?” The woman turned with enough speed to slap Jeanne in the face with the wicked cloak. Eyes filled with rage found Caikhatu’s calm gaze. “Wretch of Iron Lord. Forgotten you about the gifts Brood Lord Khan has laid before you! Forgotten you about obedience to the Khan of Khans!”
“You will address my master with the respect he so richly deserves…” Caikhatu choked, clawing at his own throat, when Jiguur lifted her head. The flesh on his neck bulged, closing around the throat as if an unseen collar had closed around the bone. The man’s body rose in the air, helplessly dangling with his legs.
“Fool and fool you are! I only give respect when it is deserved. You!” The mad eyes found Jeanne. “Do you know of God?”
“We believe in the Planet in this humble church,” Jeanne said, lowering herself and tearing a piece of cloth from her garb to help stop the constable’s bleeding. “There are many different faiths in the Reclamation Army.”
“Heresy all!” Jiguur roared, pointing a finger at Jeanne.
Abbess never fought in her entire life. The closest thing to a brawl she experienced was when a drunkard slammed his fist in her face, knocking Jeanne unconscious. But what hit her in the chest was far worse. She heard the crack in her shoulders and felt one arm go limp. A cry of pain left her lips when the unseen fingers grasped her sides, breaking her ribs. Some force lifted her into the air, pushing her belly in like a wooden plank. A silver necklace wrapped itself around her neck, lifting her head like a hanging rope and robbing Jeanne of all attempts to breathe.
Jiguur came closer, still pointing her clawed finger at the abbess.
“Fool you are, shaman,” the woman spat at the floor. “Many faiths? How come you have no gifts, then? Look how the Sky has treated me! Gift after gift I was given, as my deity courted me, earning my loyalty. Where is the power of your deity, weakling?”
“I have no need for strength, for I wish no subjugation,” Jeanne has managed to say, feeling the necklace’s hold loosen. “Treating others the way we want to be treated ourselves, building a world of understanding and peace—this is all the Planet asks of us. To create a world where everyone…”
“Words of the meek, infirm, and impotent!” Jiguur laughed. “Small wonder the Sky has unleashed a tornado upon your lands. The strong rule, the weak obey, and your sheepish faith won’t save you now. Tell me about the pretender! Tell me about God! Where is the one tormenting the Sky’s avatar hiding now?”
“I have no idea…” The necklace wrapped around her neck, and a single movement of Jiguur’s eyes sent both the mayor and the constable splattering against the walls.
“Burn you will, but utter a word of untruth, and I will see your people exterminated with cruelty seen only in legends! Your false gods…”
The roof exploded, sending down wooden beams and stone chunks. In a flash, Jiguur threw Jeanne aside like a doll, lifting her clawed hands to stop the rubble from collapsing on her. Jeanne flew across the room, preparing to feel the stone altar against her back. Something—no, someone—has stopped her flight. Two armored hands grasped the woman’s body, and a gigantic shadow of steel made a spin in the air to gently diffuse the impact carrying the abbess as they descended. The floor shook when steel greaves connected with the wood, and a giant Wolfkin, clad in pitch black power armor, lowered Jeanne onto a bench.
Jeanne only ever saw them on the news. Unlike their more cultured kin, the Wolf Tribe were supposedly rude and arrogant people; some of them were involved in the recent massacre during a robbery. Not a single member of their tribe had deemed it worthy to answer journalists’ questions, icily telling them, ‘No comment.’ But when a helmet came from the being’s head, showing a very strange, elongated head with almost silken-like fur and glowing amber eyes, Jeanne felt peace for a moment.
“False gods?” The warrior asked, her voice dignified and calm. “If they are false, who sent me upon a path of bringing retribution for your crimes, shaman?”
“You dare!?” Jiguur shrieked. The wood beams around her splintered into tatters, carrying a hail of wood at the Wolfkin. “I am a priest of the Sky! The sole true deity in this world gazes through my eyes! For insulting me, you brought down a divine punishment!”
The sharp splinters of wood and pieces of stone struck the warrior, and she paid them no more attention than a normal person would to a morning rain, only raising a hand to shield her eyes. Tongues of flame came from strange devices in her wrists, covering the strange woman in flames. Jiguur laughed like mad, bringing her hands together and collapsing the entire flame into the soldier’s face.
“You threatened to burn my fellow citizen?” The voice asked from within the flames. Jiguur’s eyes widened in worry, and she twisted her hands, wringing out an invisible rag. The gorgeous power armor on the warrior shuddered but held the assault. “Experience it yourself.”
Almost lazily, the Wolfkin pointed her hand at the priest, and Jiguur raised her hands in front of her face when the flamethrower spat a roaring blue inferno at her. Jeanne had no idea if Jiguur’s power failed or something else happened, but the flame wall hit the shrieking, in pain woman, carrying her outside. The suffering body turned black before disappearing into ashes, leaving not even a bone behind. The flame lingered on the wooden doors for a few moments before disappearing all together, almost snuffed out by something.
Caikhatu and the others fell to the ground, the power that held them suspended in the air had been dissipated with Jiguur’s demise. Outside, there were screams and shouts, and then the sound of a dozen legs announced the coming of the raiders. Caikhatu’s warriors charged inside, pointing weapons at the Wolfkin, only to be stopped by Caikhatu’s risen arm.
“I…” He coughed, struggling to stand up. “Have no desire to die. None of my warriors touched even a hair on the locals. Jiguur, she is not ours…”
“Yet you brought her.” The Wolfkin came closer, claws coming from her paw. They closed around the raider’s head. “My pack has surrounded this place. Do you yield?”
“I…” Caikhatu licked his lips. “Do not know the word’s meaning.”
“Do you surrender?” The Wolfkin rolled her eyes.
“Yes. Spare us, and our loyalty is yours.”
“And what is it worth?” The Wolfkin let him go, turning her back on him. She walked toward Jeanne, carrying the woman to the constable’s side. “My name is Ashbringer. Honored shaman, honored citizens. Please rest and relax. We will take care of everything. You are safe.”