Benjamin – Delta Zone #2 Level 80 – 99
As I came closer to the tear in the fabric of reality, the moltenous warmth from the active lava flow nearby, steps up from an ignorable nuisance to minor annoyance as my [Robe of the Spell Bourne] fails to alleviate the magmatic flows radiant heat.
In the months since all of me have sworn off human contact….again…
We’ve taken to getting my equipment from the random rewards from clearing siphons instead. Unceremoniously negating any potential dependence on trade relations with my fellow man and the Outpost’s altogether.
So having enacted pathological avoidance for a couple of months, I’ve taken to traipsing about the active volcano that is Delta Zone #2 in my downtime.
It was about three or four months back when I first noticed humans starting to enter the barren neck of the not woods I used to call home, AKA Gamma Zone #23.
Initially I thought to help them, though none had helped me, well except for that red head Judy, but that was only before she tried to use me and then magically murder me so that doesn’t really count now does it!
Moving on…
The triumvirate decided to try and help said humans, however as soon as they saw my face they tried to bloody shoot me with magic and shit before turning tail and running away. If one of me was forced to pinpoint the exact moment when they fled though, it was about when their decidedly hostile actions failed to generate the desired reaction of ‘Oh my god you shot me, here’s all my stuff’.
Sure, I could have killed them…but I have found that while any me could justify it initially, my stat increases have apparently altered my perceptions of, well everything.
For starters, where the memories of my past life remain turgid, bundled messes of emotions and imagery that lead me to view and react to the world in a certain way. Well turns out when you have crystal clear memories that you can easily delineate from the emotions you were experiencing at the time, it garners any of your selves pretty fucking good introspective abilities.
You know like how when you hear a song or smell a certain scent and you can almost relive the feelings or images of the associated memory?
Well the new memories post gaining the [Mind Vault] passive from my drastic increase in wisdom, have none of these automatic sensory associations. Oh sure I can recall the situation in detail from the position of a twig to the direction someone was looking when I smelled something. However it is just information available for access separately as opposed to not being able to remember a specifically stressful event without feeling the same emotions again in the here and now.
Thus when I look back on my altercation with the people who decided to wake me up with a sharp pointy thing to the back, I can clearly see that while they were not exactly reasonable. They were not the ones who dumped a bunch of corpses in front of people and expected to remain on friendly terms.
So when the people who ran away in distress at not being able to put a dent in me made a reappearance with a bunch more people whilst I was on my way to the next siphon. Rather than execute every mother fucking last one of them, for their right to bear arms as an angry mob. The instead triumvirate elected to venture into the higher leveled zone and leave them with their delusions of scaring the big bad monster away with their show of ‘force’.
Besides they all stank too much anyway, though that is probably more to do with my ridiculous attributes if I’m being completely candid.
Also.
While I’m on the subject of attributes and their effect, any of me can’t simply not celebrate the fact that I’m supersanic now!
You know how in superhero movies or webnovel’s when the character gets exposed to radioactive whatchamacallit or increases their stats to a certain point and is all like ‘I have entered the realm of the gods’ without having to adjust their mind or do any training what so ever?
Well this system elevation thingo isn’t like that at all.
To maneuver at supersanic speeds I have a price to pay.
When stuff is hurtling past at bullshit speeds, my increased intelligence has been a boon for sure…but only up to a point.
Strait lines are hardly an obstacle for one mind to handle, but turning or altering my bodies trajectory to try and do anything more complex than going from point A to B requires one of my minds to manage my body while the other interprets terrain.
Still, this leaves me with one free mind to commit Sudoku and the like, but to say its taken a bit of getting used to is more than tincey wincey bit of an understatement.
So as I‘m nearing the lava that’s cooled to form a divot where my [Dimensional Sense] tells me the siphon is situated, a musk stanking 3 meter tall black and fiery mane’d cat monster tries to ambush me in a flurry of movement.
Thus two of my minds enact the power of jolly cooperation to whip my body around and disintegrate its head mid pounce with my fist of love and peace.
Subsequently the minds confirm I didn’t sprain my enhanced groin before going about the business of breaking down the black cats body with the gathering profession’s assistance. My other mind busies itself with acknowledging the kill notification and measly manamote’s before rejecting the proffered trait offhand before checking my siphon pilfered gears durability:
You have slain Fire Touched Lynx level 94, experience awarded.
11,426 Manamotes acquired from Fire Touched Lynx.
Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb the Lithe trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.
Robe of the Spell Bourne
Level Requirement: 97
Attributes: Increase in physical and magical defenses by 15%, +31 Intelligence, +18 Vitality, +21 Wisdom, +151 Maximum Health, +1371 Maximum Mana, +31% Power to all spells
Durability: 13/301
Description: A mana synthesized robe embroidered with basic defensive runes, journeyman enhancement and empowerment runes. A randomly generated yet rare magical item rewarded to Benjamin for successful participation in the cleansing of Dimensional Siphon#139.
Necklace of Gravity’s Tithe
Level Requirement: 89
Attributes: +19 Intelligence, +51 Maximum Mana, + 22% effectiveness to all gravity based skills
Durability: 91/157
Description: Description: A synthesized necklace of gravidic enhancement, inscribed with journeyman enhancement and empowerment runes. A randomly generated yet rare magical item rewarded to Benjamin for successful participation in the cleansing of Dimensional Siphon#42.
Ring of Kol’Dao’s Remit
Level Requirement: 92
Attributes: +11 Intelligence, +39 Maximum Mana, - 12% mana cost to all skills
Durability: 52/113
Description: A synthesized ring of mana conduction, inscribed with journeyman enhancement and empowerment runes. A randomly generated yet rare magical item rewarded to Banjamin for successful participation in the cleansing of Dimensional Siphon#69.
Ring of Gel-Tan’s Easement
Level Requirement: 94
Attributes: +13 Intelligence, +37 Maximum Mana, + 25% reduction in friction for all skill generated effects
Durability: 34/121
Description: A synthesized ring of friction reduction, inscribed with journeyman enhancement and empowerment runes. A randomly generated yet rare magical item rewarded to Benjamin for successful participation in the cleansing of Dimensional Siphon#13.
Huffing at [Robe of The Spell Bourne]’s flat lining durability and the fact that I’m out of respectably durable robes, I take it off to deposit it in my [Lesser Dimensional Pocket] whilst promptly willing out:
Juggernaut’s Tungsten Plate Mail
Level Requirement: 96
Attributes: Increase physical and magical defense by 39%, +32 Strength, +9 Dexterity, +26 Vitality +562 Maximum Health, +94 Maximum Mana, +7% Boost to all defensive skills.
Durability: 361/361
Description: A synthesized set of tungsten plate mail armor, inscribed with journeyman enhancement and empowerment runes. A randomly generated yet rare magical item rewarded to Benjamin for successful participation in the cleansing of Dimensional Siphon#158.
Donning the angularly brutalist black plate mail that by traditional earth standards should have me glued to the spot. The fit of the armor itself feels more akin to a form fitting Styrofoam facsimile for all the impedance it seems to offer my movement.
Yet as if to remind me of the fact that it is indeed still tungsten, as I make toward the dimensional siphon’s aperture once more, whilst the armor rasps and clanks in a decidedly ‘it’s not me, it’s you’ fashion.
Ignoring the judgmental suit of armor, I pass through the corridor of unreality and enter the siphon to hopefully score me a new robe so all of me can regain some decency and decorum as a mage:
You have entered Dimensional Siphon#168
To leave you must cleanse this subspace pocket of all hostile entities. You will be rewarded accordingly for your efforts.
Willing away the notification a mind inspects the stony tunnel I find myself in while my other mind’s go on danger watch and trying to figure out what tasty wheat really tasted like respectively.
Discovering nothing out of the ordinary I make my way out of the tunnel and onto a decidedly tropical looking artificial island that even has coconut trees and little crabs scurrying about its visible shoreline as the warm and salty, faux sea air finds my nose.
Seeing no point in having a sun baking holiday when there are perfectly good monsters to kill and loot to loot. A mind steers me away from the facsimile of waters edge, and into the ever thickening ferny undergrowth, before the me on lookout notes what I think are gibbon hoot’s in between the susurrations of the bird life’s communicative calls.
After about a minute of traipsing through the coastal jungle at a respectable inhuman pace, a me hears what it thinks are syncopated footfalls to my left while the mind in charge of motor control comes to a halt.
The closer the lockstep footfalls get the more all of me are convinced that they’re sentient’s which perks our interest immediately.
It’s not like I haven’t run into sentient beings before in these things, but after I stopped running into those beast tamer guys and their cthulu puppers, who by the way refused to engage in any form of banter apart from screaming out occasionally ‘FOR THE GREAT AND MERCIFUL ONE!’… many me’s have mostly been just killing mindless beast that these siphons seem to generate till I get the clear notification.
So when I hear alien non frenzied zealotry for the first time, I cannot help but grin in anticipation of more information about why aliens want to invade nu-earth so much.
“Thissss habitat issss mosssst agreeable, issss it not?”
“Yessss if the planet hassss more zonessss like thissss it will be perfecccct for my nexxxxt clutccccch.”
With my yearning to know more intensifying, the triumvirate elects to forgo further stealthy observations and make myself known as a mind demands in my best toff’ish British accent.
“Halt! Who goes there?!”
The two what appear to be bipedal lizard people, level their weapons at me and they hiss in unified reply.
“SSSSubmit or die!” “SSSSubmit or die!”
While their two crocodiles just plain *HISS* at me in attempted menace.
Feeling completely unthreatened by the two reptilians and their two pet reptilians, I counter.
“Take me to your leader!”
They give me what I assume is a lizard person approximation of a scowl before they repeat.
“SSSSubmit or die!” “SSSSubmit or die!”
While their two crocodiles just *HISS*…again….
Having gotten nowhere and possessing no collective desire to engage in a protracted prisoner arc from which all of me would probably die of boredom, a mind offers.
“Last chance guys, leader or we have a problem.”
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Seemingly amused by my rejoinder they hiss/chuckle before one threatens.
“Densssse sssscccccalesss intelligencccce defficcccent, your head ssssha-“
And I get bored and the air splits with a boom as a mind moves me to between the two while another mind obliterates the left one’s head with and outstretched fist. Meanwhile my newly donned and judgey armor starts to releases a clang of protest:
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Scout level 52, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
326 Manamotes acquired from Silaurian Initiate Scout.
Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb Lesser Hibernation trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.
The one to my right and the two remaining enlarged crocodiles are still playing slow motion catchup when a mind rejects the offered trait and parts some more air, whilst another me takes consecutive turns at using my tungsten booted foot to cave in the slow motion pets’ heads:
You have slain a Lesser Silaurian Crocodile level 53, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
You have slain a Lesser Silaurian Crocodile level 52, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
295 Manamotes acquired from Lesser Silaurian Crocodile.
301 Manamotes acquired from Lesser Silaurian Crocodile.
Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb lesser Cold Blooded trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.
Groaning internally at the constant shitty trait choices I turn to the lone survivor who has made the transition from arrogant alien to. ‘oh fuck I didn’t mean it bro’ quite successfully.
Due to the fact that its head has limited expressiveness and still manages to convey its burgeoning terror, all of me kinda feel sorry for it and the situation it now finds itself in.
Letting the surrounding gusts of air settle again while the Silaurian looks like its mind is in overdrive on how not to die as its forked tongue plays over its sharp teeth. One of me internally groans at having found another low quality Siphon.
Thus far I have only discovered two types of siphons, one where there are lots of low level enemies and one where there is six 99 level enemies. However with the advent of beings that just don’t scream rhetoric at me, I might have to add more nuance to that rule of thumb. But given that the things I just killed were in the low range it means I’m gonna have to search around a bit to clear it, and all while getting sweet fuck all experience.
Failing to let the annoyance at my new work load creep into my voice, the Silaurian flinches when one of me demands.
“Alright Silaurian…dude?... I’m feeling lenient! This is your last last chance. Take. Me. To. Your. Leader.”
I know it’s probably incredibly rude despite the auto translate bullshit the system is practicing that enables us to communicate, yet despite my minds lack of manners or maybe because of them It get a much more promising reply than before.
“M-mosssst ccccertainly oh g-great one. Pleasssse f-follow thissss humble ssssearvant.”
Considering that I thought today was just going to be another mindless clear fest of nearby siphons, all of me can’t stop a smile from manifesting beneath my black and angular helm, whilst one of me nods in ascent before supplying.
“Lead on.”
Obviously relieved to not have its head turned into paste, the Silaurian bobs its head deferentially and leads me further into the center of the artificial island. And while we travel in near silence through the palms and lush undergrowth, the lizard humanoid intermittently sends fearful glances back at me to confirm that. ‘yes indeed the black armored thing that killed my buddy and his/her pets is still real and following me’.
Having no desire to loose whatever effect I’ve had on the being with small talk, I not so quietly clank along behind him and keep a mind alert for potential ambushers.
After what feels like a good twenty minutes we break through the undergrowth to come upon what looks like an explorer’s camp, with four smallish canvas looking tents centered another larger one.
Looking furtively at me, the Silaurian bobs its head while hissing.
“Pleasssse w-wait here great o-one, I will anouncccce your arrival to the ssssccccale princcccessss.”
Further intrigued by the monarchic title, the triumvirate figures that a little standing about never hurt anyone leading one of me to nod at the cowing being, who promptly scurries toward the small camps perimeter.
It doesn’t take long for a ruckus to break out in the camp as I hear raised voices from within the center tent.
“Ssssccccout Gol-Vhu bearing urgent newssss for t-the ssssccccale princcccessss’ssss earssss and for her earssss alone!”
“What buissssnessss ccccould a lowly sssscout have that issss sssso important that it issss for the princcccessss earssss only?”
“P-pleasssse I mean no dissssresssspect h-honored Legate bu-“
“Enough nonssssense ssssccccout I will have your he-“
“Let the weakling passss Pwv-Jal.”
“Assss her highnessss ccccommandessss.”
“Sssso ssssoft ssssccccale, what information issss sssso important that you would interrupt my sssslumber and in doing sssso rissssk your tail?”
“H-honored princcccessss an elevant of g-great power hassss entered the ssssiphon and wissshessss to cccconversssse with you!”
“What makessss one sssso weak think that they can judge an elevantssss power?”
“N-normally you would be ccccorecccct your h-highnessss, but thissss being movessss fasssster than ssssight and sssstrikessss harder than a Ssssvatnoassssaur.”
“Ssssuposssse what you sssspeak issss true, where issss thissss being now?”
“I-I would never dare to misssslead one of the r-royal bloodline your highnessss. Assss to the beingssss whereaboutssss, I brought him to the edge of the campssss ccclea-“
However before the scout could finish his brown nosing, an explosion of flame erupts from the side of the large tent, leading to a well done reptilian going tumbling out of the newly made smoldering canvas hole.
One of me winces at my unwilling guides reward as almost immediately after, the lizard person all of me can only assume is the princess, screeches.
“KIEEEEEERRRRRK! I’M SSSSUROUNDED BY SSSSWAMP RODENTSSSS AND INTELLIGENCCCCE DIFICCCCIENTSSSS! TO ME MY GUARDSSSS.”
The commotion in the camp intensifies with clanking weaponry and pounding footfalls.
All in all It takes just a little under 30 seconds for an impressive looking formation of heavily armed and armored bipedal reptilians to storm out of the camp as they escort a robed figure toward me. And when the processions got to within about 20 or so meters of me, one of me raises a gauntleted hand to waive in greeting.
Instantly they began to move slowly to form a defensive formation around the robed figure while two more armed and armored Silaurian’s make a b-line straight at me like they’re moving through syrup.
One of my minds idly mused that what I view as being slow was probably quite fast and had more to do with my enhanced attributes than anything temporally related.
Still not letting a prime opportunity to establish dominance be put to waste, one of my minds moves me toward the two, likely swiftly, charging Silaurian’s whilst it feels the air give way and boom in complaint. Meanwhile, another of my minds observes their relative positions, my speed of travel and strongly advises my other mind that coat-hangering the lethargic lizards is the simplest and most effective plan of attack:
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Warrior level 52, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Warrior level 55, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
451 Manamotes acquired from Silaurian Initiate Warrior.
502 Manamotes acquired from Silaurian Initiate Warrior.
Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb Lesser Hibernation trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.
Now almost certain that its noodle appendage hath forsaken me with these piss weak trait drops, one of me watches as what remains of their heads scatter shots toward their slowly defensing allies while their headless bodies are jerked away from me as if remembering that they should have moved.
As the scene plays out in slow motion one of my minds mules at the fact that I will have to wash my new armor sooner than I had anticipated.
And as I start to wave at their lethargically tailed asses, its at this point that the now blood splattered defenders eyes go wide whilst it screeches in warning.
“LOOK OUT! ITSSSS ABOUT TO ATTACCCCK AGAIN!”
Barely containing my mirth a me replies slowly, to the now gore painted and alarmed defenders.
“I. come. In. peace.”
Having just witnessed me decapitate two of their allies, they’re apparently having no part in any potential diplomacy, owing mainly to the larger of the lizard being clad in shiny gold plate mail and wielding an ornate inscribed polearm hissing in rebuke.
“IT LIESSSS PRINCCCCESSSS! KILL IT WITH FIRE!”
One of me was about to argue before an impressive ball of fire springs into being in the robed figures clawed hand.
The triumvirate votes to keep at least one alive for information and either the big one or the robed one will likely suffice. Thus, one of me casts a quarter strength [Lesser Repulse] on the fire mage to send her flying and she releases an alarmed shriek as she lands in their camp.
Pleased to see that the weak push one of me gave her also canceled whatever spell she was cooking up I then cast a maximum increase [Lesser Field of Gravity Manipulation] on the remaining Silaurians. And while they collectively screech as their bones and bodies are compacted downward, every one was brought to the artificial jungles floor.
Yet unfortunately for them, not a single one managed to walk like a dinosaur:
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Warrior level 51, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
...
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Warrior level 56, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Honor Guard level 58, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
….
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Honor Guard level 60, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
…..
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Honor Guard level 62, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
One of me wills away the slew of kill notifications, to find that the big polearm wielding one was still conscious and quite annoyed, by way of its decidedly uncomfortable grunts and hisses in protestation at its current predicament.
The triumvirate figures now is as good a time as any to commence an interrogation and one of me walks up to the mildly writhing oversized lizard being and queries.
“You guys are obviously intelligent to some degree…So I’ve been wondering… Why do beings like you keep coming in through the siphons and trying to invade and kill humans?”
At this it stops it’s struggling momentarily to wheeze out a pained approximation of a chuckle before supplying.
“Issss i-it not every warriorssss d-dream to claim m-more territory by conqqqquesssst?”
Failing to find fault with his reasoning at face value, one of me opts to approach from a different angle.
“Who provided you with the means to travel to the siphon?”
Apparently I was an extraterrestrial comedian, because he starts to laugh again before wheezing out.
“If you sssswear a-alliegencccce to clan ember ssssccccale of the A-Ash’Kur Dominion, then we can provide a g-great warrior ssssuch assss your sssself, t-the meanssss to do the ssssame.”
All of me engage in a collective daydream for a moment, in the possibility of travelling the galaxy as a minion of some alien, to kick ass and take names.
Strangely enough all of me realize I’m genuinely considering it before one of me catches myself scratching my helmeted head absentmindedly with a tungsten clad finger. The scraping squeeks bringing me out of my whimsical fantasizing.
A me shakes our head at the epiphany that on the one hand, that while the me’s are so intelligent attribute wise, we are still clearly susceptible to the offer of mindless purpose. And just like that, the delusion of living for someone else’s cause dissipates completely.
My other mind that’s gone back on danger watch reports that my skills field is about to end and that there’s was a larger than last time glowing ball of something forming in the center of the now defunct camp.
Shrugging at the end of the chance at continued reasonable conversation, one of my minds situated me next to the spread-eagled large Silaurian while the air parted obediently as another mind put it out of its misery with my magical tungsten boot:
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Legate level 79, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
4309 Manamotes acquired from Silaurian Initiate Legate.
Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb Lesser Cold Blooded trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.
Huffing at the mocking timer one of me looks to the direction of the camp where the miniature sun has begun to levitate a bit higher, before it lazily starts to waft its way toward me as its creator cries.
“DIE WELL, ABOMINATION!”
Slightly hurt at the accusatory name calling, one of my minds moves me to within skill range of the ember sphere and I cast a maximum [Increase Gravity] on it, which turned out to be not my brightest moment to date. except that conversely, it also was.
When the sphere of burny not goodness impacted the ground, the resulting explosion almost threatened to push the me on motor control back a little bit, as the pressure wave washed over me. Immediately following which, the fiery explosion expanded outwards to encompass me like the heat from opening a furnace whilst being a touch too close.
Reflexively closing my eyes against the blasts heat, all of me was more that a little relieved that my eyes managed to not evaporate despite the searing heat that lingered.
And just like that one of me is taken back to when I was trapped back in my foster parents car on a 40+ degree day, since I apparently fabricated the story about Jack and the burns he’d left me with. Resulting in me needing a to be kept a closer eye on.
However like unlike most parental minding exhibited in the television shows of my none too frequent mental escapisms, my caretakers had elected that the watching was best done from the safe remove of the local gambling establishment. Where they would be better equipped to have a flutter on the dogs in the air conditioning.
Another of my minds acknowledges the other mind and the memory sensorium it’s experiencing, whilst my unencumbered mind tentatively opens my eyes now that the worst of the blast seems to have abated.
The mind in the now, is a little alarmed to find my armor still glowing white hot from residual heat and it consoles itself with the fact that my skin does not seem to be cooking to it just yet, despite the hotplate like sizzling and hissing the metal continues to release.
My other minds rejoin the now, having weathered the internal maelstrom, and one of them one of them churlishly points out that my hair is probably toast…again…leading to all of me cursing in unison.
Seeing through the heat haze and remnant smoke that half the Silaurian’s camp still seemed to be singed slightly, but intact. One of my minds takes me there while my armor incendiary armor groans in concert with the airs protests at being plowed without any of me buying it a drink first.
Upon arrival a me finds the half-naked form of the lizard that created, what by rights should have vaporized me, before a me nudges the lightly brazed and smoking caster with my foot.
As it screams when my grill/boot contacts its arm, all of me wince in sympathy momentarily, before hardening our resolve against the beings suffering who had just tried to flambé us.
Crouching down next to it as my armor hissed and groaned, a me queries.
“Crikey lizard lady…Didn’t your parents ever teach you that its rude to interrupt two peop…er…beings…when they’re having a conversation?”
It’s breath is ragged as it holds up its non branded arm to shield its eyes against my armors radiant heat before it hisses out shakily.
“M-my clutch m-mother will come f-for you a-abomination…. sss-ssshe will not hibernate till your planet issss crusssshed in her mighty clawssss.”
The triumvirate is frankly impressed with the amount of conviction and single-mindedness the lizard thing has shown as one of me shakes our head in bemusement before another queries.
“So anyway…How do you things keep coming in the siphons to invade?”
It grabbed its blue glowing necklace before it started to cackle hissterically for a close to minute until it chokes out.
“The great clan E-ember Sssscale, of the boundlessss A-Ash’Kur Dominion…Hereby layssss cl-“
Seeing that the conversation was going nowhere and it was obviously suffering from burns and broken limbs, a me puts it out of its suffering with my now realistically temperature’d fist:
You have slain a Silaurian Initiate Ember Weaver level 76, no experience awarded due to level disparity.
219,861 Manamotes acquired from Silaurian Initiate Ember Weaver.
Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb Lesser Sun Collector trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.
One of me Ignores the carbon friendly offer of the trait and whistles at the disproportionate amount of manamotes the thing had, whilst another me shakes most of the gore from my gauntlet and rises to find two groups of angry looking scouts and their pet crocodiles converging on me and the ruins of the camp.
Sighing resignedly.
All of me recognize its probably time to get back to work and move on to the next Siphon.