Scene 1: Inferno of Valour
The night is alive with chaos as the creatures attack without warning, their snarls and growls filling the air like the rumblings of an approaching storm. Soldiers falter in fear, disoriented by the ferocity of the ambush.
Screams of terror erupt as one soldier is decapitated, the sickening crunch of bone and flesh snapping under the creature’s powerful jaws. His body drops lifeless to the ground with a dull thud, blood pooling beneath him. Another soldier’s cry is cut short as a beast tears out his throat, the wet gurgle of his last breath mingling with the savage growls of his attacker. The metallic scent of blood mixes with the earthy smell of the forest.
Two more soldiers fall, their cries of agony echoing through the trees as the creatures' claws rip into their flesh. Panic ripples through the ranks, threatening to unravel them completely as they struggle to comprehend the sheer brutality of the attack.
King Solomon (furious, commanding): "Hold your ground! Do not panic!"
Despite his command, the suddenness of the attack has already rattled the men. Solomon watches, his heart wrenching, as his soldiers fall. Rage surges through him.
King Solomon (angry, with fiery determination): "No more! Not another one of my soldiers!"
Gripping his sword, Solomon steps forward. His T-shaped longsword gleams under the moonlight, ready to unleash destruction. With a loud cry, fire bursts from his body, rising in rings from the ground and swirling around him like a storm. The flames climb higher, consuming his sword, transforming it into a blazing inferno. His eyes glow with the intensity of the fire coursing through him.
The whoosh of fire fills the air as Solomon swings his sword with mighty force. The sound is like a roaring furnace, flames spreading out in a great wave. The fire rolls forward like an unstoppable ocean, the heat singeing the leaves and bushes in its path, setting them ablaze.
The beasts scream in agony as the fire washes over them. Their skin sizzles, and the sickening sound of burning flesh fills the air. They writhe for a moment before disintegrating into ashes, the wind carrying their remains into the darkness. The only ones left standing are the two beast-men behind the horde, their eyes wide with shock and their expressions frozen in disbelief.
Kaezan stands amidst the cheering soldiers, his heart pounding with adrenaline and awe. He watches as the flames engulf the beasts, their screams echoing through the night.
Kaezan’s inner thoughts: “If this is what we face tonight... what will come in the days ahead? I must become stronger. For my father, for the king, for our kingdom... I can’t let them down.”
Kaezan (louder, rallying his fellow soldiers): “We fight alongside them! For our kingdom, for our future!”
The soldiers, stunned by the raw power of their king, stare in awe. For a moment, silence falls, broken only by the crackling of burning remains and the faint rustle of leaves.
Soldier 1: “Amazing! So this is the King’s power.”
Soldier 2: “That was… so, so coooool.”
Soldier 3: “You dummy, that’s actually hot!”
Kopaik (awed, voice trembling with admiration): "My king... you are exceptional."
The soldiers, emboldened by the display of strength, cheer, their fear replaced with renewed hope.
King Solomon (serious, voice firm): "Kaedan, I want them alive."
Chief Kaedan (grinning, determined): "Leave it to me, Your Majesty".
Kaedan, gripping his sword, charges forward toward the two beast-men, who now advance with swords drawn. Their roars echo in the forest, but Kaedan, quick and agile, does not raise his sword to clash with theirs. Instead, he plunges his sword into the ground. The crackling of fire as flames form around his fists follows the thud of the blade sinking deep.
He sidesteps their initial strikes with ease, the sound of their swords cutting through the air. Clang! Their blades clash against each other, but Kaedan ducks beneath their strikes. With a sudden burst of speed, he drives his flaming fist into the stomach of the first beast-man. The impact thuds, followed by a loud boom as fire erupts from his fist, sending the creature flying back. The sound of its body hitting the stone is like thunder, the rock cracking under the force.
Without pausing, Kaedan turns and delivers the same fiery punch to the second beast-man. The crack of his fist hitting the beast’s stomach reverberates through the clearing, the sound echoing off the nearby trees. The second beast-man flies through the air, crashing into another large stone with a crunch.
Both creatures lay unconscious, their bodies smoldering from the fiery attacks.
Kaezan watches, awe mixing with pride as he sees his father’s skill.
Kaezan (whispering to himself, voice filled with admiration): “Incredible... both of them. Father’s strength and King Solomon’s flames... they fight for us, for our kingdom.”
He clenches his sword tightly, inspired by their bravery. The heat from the fire warms his skin, but it is their courage that ignites a fire within him. He feels a surge of resolve.
A silence settles over the clearing, the chaos fading into a haunting quiet. For a moment, only the crackle of dying flames and the distant rustle of leaves can be heard. The soldiers, victorious but shaken, exchange glances filled with both relief and the hollow echo of loss.
As the eerie silence of the forest returns, the soldiers begin the somber task of covering the bodies of their fallen comrades. The once vibrant clearing is now a scene of devastation, marked by the lifeless forms of those who bravely fought for their kingdom. Soldiers work quickly, laying the bodies on wooden carts draped with cloth, their expressions a mix of grief and resolve. Kaezan's heart aches as he watches, the weight of loss heavy in the air.
Amidst this sorrow, King Solomon and Chief Kaedan ride side by side on their horses—Solomon atop a majestic black steed, Kaedan on a gleaming white one. The soldiers follow on sturdy brown horses, Kopaik on his grey mount leading the cart.
King Solomon (voice steady but filled with emotion): “Today, we saved many, but the cost has been steep. We must honor those who fell by ensuring this never happens again.”
Chief Kaedan (nodding solemnly): “You are right, my king. We must strengthen our defenses and prepare for the shadows that loom over us. The threat of Develious is still out there.”
King Solomon (grim, voice low but firm): "But it won’t be enough if we don’t act swiftly. Develious lurks, waiting to strike again. We cannot afford to be caught unprepared next time."
Chief Kaedan (nodding, more pragmatic): "The soldiers fought bravely, but it’s clear that something darker is at play here. I’ll have the council gather at first light, and we’ll make a plan to fortify the kingdom’s borders."
King Solomon (voice hardening): "Good. But fortifications alone won’t be enough. We need to understand these creatures—where they come from and what drives them. We must outthink them, Kaedan, or this will be just the beginning."
As they speak, the two beast-men they captured are tethered in fiery sealing magic, three rings of flames encircling them—one near their chest, another near their abdomen, and the last near their intestines, restricting their movements. The beasts stumble along, their expressions a mixture of anger and disbelief as they are forced to follow. The soldiers ride in silence, their hearts heavy with the memory of those lost but resolute in their duty to protect what remains.
The group slowly makes their way back to the palace, the flickering flames casting shadows on their path—a stark reminder of the battle they have just endured and the uncertain journey ahead.
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Scene 2: The Prince’s Chamber
Prince Salvini's chamber is dimly lit by the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the curtains. The room is large and elegant, with intricate designs carved into the wooden furniture, but the air is heavy with tension. Queen Marissa is embracing her son tightly, her face etched with worry. Helena stands nearby, her eyes wide with shock, unsure of how to process what has just unfolded.
(Prince Salvini is visibly shaken, his breaths uneven as he clutches onto his mother, trying to regain composure.)
Queen Marissa (whispering, her voice trembling): "Oh, my dear boy… You’re safe now, you're here with me. Everything will be fine, I promise. No one will hurt you again."
(Helena steps forward, her eyes darting between the prince and the queen.)
Helena (hesitant, her voice low): "Your Majesty… I… I don’t know what happened, but the prince seemed... lost. It was as if he wasn’t himself. His eyes—they were distant, not like how they usually are."
Queen Marissa (gently stroking the prince's hair): "Shh… it’s over now. We’ll figure this out. We’ll protect you."
(Prince Salvini feels the overwhelming weight of his mother's concern. He takes a deep breath, slowly feeling his mind settle. He pulls away slightly from his mother's embrace, looking at her with newfound calmness.)
Prince Salvini (soft but reassuring): "Mother, it’s alright now. I promise. Please don’t worry too much. I need you to stay calm for me."
(Queen Marissa looks at him, her eyes glistening with tears, but she nods. She wipes away her tears, trying to compose herself.)
Queen Marissa (trying to smile, though her voice is shaky): "You’re strong… just like your father. I’ll be calm, for you."
(Helena steps back, visibly relieved that the prince is regaining his composure.)
Prince Salvini (gently): "Helena, you should rest too. I’ll be fine now."
Helena (softly, nodding): "As you wish, Your Highness. But if anything happens—"
Prince Salvini (smiling faintly): "I’ll call for you, don’t worry."
(Queen Marissa glances back at her son one more time, concern still lingering in her eyes.)
Prince Salvini (reassuring): "Please, both of you, go to your chambers. I’ll be alright. I need some time to think."
(Queen Marissa looks at him for a moment longer, then finally nods. She takes Helena’s hand, and the two women leave the chamber quietly. The door closes softly behind them, and Prince Salvini is left alone.)
(He walks over to his bed and sits down, his mind racing. Thoughts of Hamza flood his consciousness. His hand subconsciously drifts to the spot where the mysterious writing had appeared earlier.)
Prince Salvini (thinking to himself): "Who is this boy? Is he… somehow connected to me? Or worse… is he using my body?"
(He frowns, the weight of confusion settling heavily on his chest.)
Prince Salvini (murmuring, his eyes narrowing): "Every time I sleep, he awakens… at least that’s what I’ve started to imagine. But I need proof. I need to test this theory."
(He stands and begins to pace, his brow furrowed in deep thought. After a few moments, a plan begins to form in his mind.)
Prince Salvini (determined, speaking aloud to himself): "Yes… I can’t control the more powerful combat spells yet, but I can manage a simple trick spell."
(He walks over to his side table, picking up a book of spells. He flips through the pages, scanning the incantations.)
Prince Salvini (finding the spell he needs, muttering): "Here… this should work."
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Prince Salvini (hesitant, thinking): "But what if I'm wrong? What if this is just… madness?”
(He clenches his fists, forcing the doubt away.)
(He raises his hand and begins to chant softly, his voice steady and clear.)
Prince Salvini (incantation): "Flamma circumvolans, somnum prohibens, vigilia in ignibus teneor."
(A soft glow surrounds his hand, and suddenly, flames flicker to life. They spiral around his fingers before expanding to form a ring of fire that encircles the bed. The flames burn brightly for a moment, casting dancing shadows across the room, before they fade away, leaving behind no trace of their presence.)
Prince Salvini (nodding to himself): "Good. So, if I sleep now, the spell will wake me—or him—every hour. This way, we’ll know for sure."
(He walks back to the side table and picks up a book and a pen. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he begins to write, his hand moving quickly across the page.)
Prince Salvini (writing in the book): "I am Prince Salvini. Are you using my body? Who are you? Was it you who wrote on my hand? The writing was erased by sweat, and I couldn’t understand it. As far as I can tell, whenever I sleep, you take control of my body. If that’s true, then I’ve cast a spell that will wake me—or you, or my body—every hour until I undo it. This way, we can communicate through this book."
(He pauses, thinking for a moment before adding more.)
Prince Salvini (writing again): "This is the only way we can speak to each other, it seems. If you’re out there, if you’re reading this, answer me."
(He closes the book gently and places it back on the table, his heart pounding in anticipation. He lays down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts racing.)
Prince Salvini (thinking to himself): "If that boy is real… and if he really is using my body… then this will be our first true communication. No more guessing."
(He closes his eyes, though sleep does not come easily. His mind churns with questions, uncertainty gnawing at him. But at least now, he has a plan.)
(The room falls silent, the tension of the night finally starting to ease as Prince Salvini drifts into a restless slumber, waiting for the spell to do its work.)
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Scene 3: Whispers of Concern
King Solomon entered his royal chamber, the room radiating power and grace. The deep red curtains cascaded from the ceiling, framing the large bed adorned with luxurious furs of lions, their manes preserved in rich gold thread. Swords of polished steel hung on the walls, each one a testament to battles fought and won. A grand study table, filled with neatly arranged parchments, quills, and inkpots, stood by the window overlooking the royal gardens. The soft rustling of leaves from the trees outside added a serene touch to the otherwise majestic room.
Queen Marissa, seated on the edge of the bed, stood up immediately upon seeing her husband.
Queen Marissa (relieved): "Oh darling, you're back. What’s the situation?"
King Solomon (somber, yet firm): "The situation is severe. Many of our soldiers fell on the spot, dead before they even had a chance to react. But we captured two culprits. There’s hope we might learn something from them."
(Queen Marissa’s eyes softened with worry, but she approached him with a gentle touch, her hands running softly across his shoulders, offering silent support.)
Queen Marissa (calmly, with affection): "You’ve done all you could. You’re a wise and strong king. We will mourn the fallen, but their sacrifice will not be in vain. You carry this burden for all of us."
(King Solomon let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of his responsibility lessen slightly at her touch.)
King Solomon (glancing at her, concerned): "Is there something else I should know? You seem troubled."
(Queen Marissa hesitated, biting her lip gently, before speaking.)
Queen Marissa (softly, hesitant): "Nothing special, but…"
King Solomon (raising an eyebrow): "But what?"
Queen Marissa (sighing, her worry evident): "It’s Salvini. Earlier, he just… broke down. He started crying loudly, out of nowhere. I don’t understand what’s happening to our son."
(King Solomon's expression shifted to one of deep concern. The tension in his shoulders returned as he processed her words.)
King Solomon (determined, yet tense): "Let’s go see him, dear."
The two left their luxurious chamber, walking through the dimly lit hallways of the palace. Their footsteps echoed softly, the flicker of torches casting long shadows as they passed. After taking two turns, they finally arrived at Prince Salvini's chamber. The door creaked slightly as King Solomon opened it, the soft glow of candles lighting the room.
Prince Salvini lay on the bed, his chest rising and falling gently in sleep. His face, though peaceful, still bore traces of recent distress. The king and queen entered quietly, careful not to wake him.
King Solomon approached first, standing beside his son. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Salvini’s forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as he absorbed the innocence of his sleeping child. He then placed his hand gently on Salvini’s brow, feeling the warmth of his skin.
King Solomon (whispering, with love and concern): "Rest well, my son. Whatever burdens you carry, we’ll face them together."
(Queen Marissa stepped forward, her own heart aching for her child. She knelt by the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from Salvini’s face and kissed him softly.)
Queen Marissa (softly, motherly): "Sleep, my darling. We are here with you. Nothing will harm you."
(The room felt warmer, filled with the unspoken love and protection of his parents. After a few more moments, King Solomon nodded toward the candles.)
King Solomon gently extinguished each flame, one by one, the room growing darker until only the moonlight bathed their son in a soft glow.
(The two of them left the room quietly, closing the door behind them as they made their way back down the hallway, their minds heavy with worry for their child, but their love for him stronger than any fear.)
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Scene 4: The Fire’s awakening
The dimly lit room of Prince Salvini is silent, the only sound being the gentle rhythm of his breathing as he sleeps, his chest rising and falling in peaceful motion. Suddenly, flames burst beneath the bed, spiraling upward and encircling it like a protective barrier. The fire twists and transforms, taking the shape of a glowing, ethereal hand that reaches out and touches the prince’s chest.
With a gasp, Prince Salvini’s eyes fly open, and he sits up, breathing heavily. But this time, it is not Prince Salvini who has awoken—it is Hamza.
Hamza blinks, disoriented, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings.
Hamza (to himself, confused, his voice hushed): "Where am I now? I was just in the healer’s chamber… and now I’m here? What is happening?"
He rises from the bed, steadying himself. His eyes fall on a jug of water on the side table. Walking over, he pours some into a glass and takes a long drink, the coolness soothing his parched throat. He exhales deeply, trying to collect his thoughts.
Hamza glances around the room, noticing the lavish decor. The deep red curtains, the rich furniture—it’s all foreign to him. He steps toward the window, pushing it open slightly. The garden outside comes into view, the night air crisp as he breathes it in.
Hamza (talking to himself, softly): "This place... it feels so real, yet it's so different. I was in the healer’s chamber… how did I end up here? Is this reality or some twisted dream?"
He stands by the window for a moment longer, then turns back to the room. He notices a study table nearby with a book lying open and a pen placed in between the pages. Hamza walks over and sits down in the chair. Curiosity pulls him to the book, and he opens it to the exact page where the pen was placed. His eyes scan the words written on the paper.
It’s a message, a message from Salvini.
Hamza (reading aloud, voice low and serious): "I am Prince Salvini. Are you using my body? Who are you? Was it you who wrote on my hand? The writing was erased by sweat, and I couldn’t understand it."
Hamza’s thoughts race as he processes the words. So that’s what happened... I thought sleep might swap us, but I didn’t realize it was this frequent. Every time he sleeps, I’m the one awake. How strange...
Hamza continues reading.
Salvini's words echo in his mind. "As far as I can tell, whenever I sleep, you take control of my body. If that’s true, then I’ve cast a spell that will wake me—or you, or my body—every hour until I undo it. This way, we can communicate through this book."
Hamza frowns, taking in the words. So, it’s confirmed. This isn’t just a fluke—our lives are intertwined. But how?
He looks at the book again, a deeper realization dawning on him.
Hamza (softly, wondering): "Magic… spells… Could it be? As I suspected I am in a world full of magic. Potions, elixirs, and herbal books... this is unbelievable. This isn’t anything like my world."
He leans back in the chair, his mind racing. He knows they need to figure this out together. He grips the pen tightly, his thoughts whirling, and then begins to write.
Hamza (writing in the book): "My name is Hamza. I’m not from your world. The best way I can explain it is that I come from a place very different from this. I was about to die in my world—a giant boulder was falling towards me. The next thing I knew, I was in your body, in the mountains, and then there was an explosion. It’s strange, but I was seeing you in my dreams back in my world too."
He pauses, touches the locket around his neck, and continues writing.
Hamza (writing again): "The locket you have… I have the same one. Back in my world. So, maybe you’re right. Maybe we can communicate this way, through this book. I think you should know, you come from a magical world—something I’ve never experienced. Let’s figure this out together."
Hamza closes the book gently, placing the pen between the pages as Salvini had done before. He stands up, glancing around the room once more, still feeling a sense of unease.
He makes his way back to the bed, his mind drifting to thoughts of home. The familiar faces of his friends—Ahmed, Bilal, Ammar, and Faraz—flash before his eyes. He remembers their laughter, their talks, and the lessons with Ustad Imran, his carpenter teacher. Those memories feel distant now, almost like a lifetime ago.
Hamza (softly, his voice tinged with nostalgia): "I wonder if I’ll ever see them again..."
He lies down on the bed, letting the weight of exhaustion pull him under. His eyes close as the memories fade, and soon, Hamza drifts into sleep, once again letting the strange world envelop him.
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Scene 5: Whispers of Doom
(King Solomon and Queen Marissa are walking down the dimly lit hallway toward their chamber. The air is heavy with silence, but the weight of the earlier events lingers between them. As they walk, King Solomon suddenly stops, turning toward the queen.)
King Solomon (softly but firmly): "You should go ahead and rest, Marissa. I may be late tonight. I need to check on the prisoners we captured earlier. Kaedan is already down there, waiting for me."
(Queen Marissa's eyes fill with concern, her hand gently resting on his arm.)
Queen Marissa (worried): "But, Solomon... is it safe for you to go alone? Those beasts—they’re dangerous. Let someone else handle this."
(King Solomon gives her a reassuring smile, placing his hand over hers.)
King Solomon (calmly): "I’ll be fine. They’re sealed with magic—they can’t harm anyone, not anymore. Besides, I need to see this through myself. I’ll be back before you know it."
(Queen Marissa reluctantly nods, though her worry is evident.)
Queen Marissa (softly): "Just... be careful."
(She squeezes his hand before turning and entering their chamber, leaving King Solomon alone in the hallway. He watches her disappear behind the door, then takes a deep breath and continues down the corridor, his footsteps echoing as he descends a set of stone stairs leading to the dungeon.)
(He dim light grows fainter as King Solomon moves deeper into the underground cells. The air is damp and heavy, and the only sound is the distant dripping of water. He finally arrives at the dark cell where two soldiers stand guard outside the last cell, spears in hand. Inside, Kaedan stands with his arms crossed, his expression serious, and two more soldiers stand behind him, swords drawn. In front of them, two beastmen—one tiger-faced, the other wolf-faced—are bound in fiery sealing magic, unable to move freely.
(King Solomon steps into the cell, and everyone bows their heads in respect.)
Kaedan (gruffly, with a smirk): "Ah, Your Majesty. Just in time for the fun."
(King Solomon’s gaze shifts to the prisoners, his eyes narrowing with cold fury.)
King Solomon (his voice icy, laced with contempt): "Have these vermin decided to open their mouths yet?"
(Kaedan shakes his head, his tone dripping with disdain.)
Kaedan: "Not a peep, sire. Seems they think they can outlast us."
(King Solomon’s lips twist into a cruel smile, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.)
King Solomon (mocking, with a dangerous edge): "Oh? Are they playing tough, huh?
King Solomon (Questioning Kaedan Sarcastically): Should we accept defeat…Kaedan?
Kaedan (being humbly Sarcastic): “Defeat, on your hand…it doesn’t…suitsss you my king.”
King Solomon (Chuckles viscously in a serious tone.): "Then let the show begin."
Without hesitation, Kaedan steps forward, his powerful frame towering over the tiger-faced beastman. With a swift and brutal motion, he punches the beastman square in the mouth with his right hand, then immediately delivers a left hook to the wolf-faced one. Blood sprays from their mouths, teeth clattering to the ground. The beastmen spit blood, groaning in pain, but before they can recover, Kaedan lands another devastating punch, this time to their stomachs. They double over, gasping for breath, but the sealing magic prevents them from collapsing.
King Solomon (coldly): "Speak up, you fools. Tell us what we want to know."
(The beastmen remain silent, their jaws clenched in defiance. Kaedan’s patience wears thin. He cracks his knuckles again, readying for more violence, but this time, the wolf-faced beastman winces, his resolve breaking.)
Wolf Beastman (whimpering): "Okay... okay, I’ll talk."
(The tiger-faced beastman snarls in defiance, his eyes wild.)
Tiger Beastman (furious): "Shut up, you fool!"
Kaedan growls and, with a single, devastating punch, knocks the tiger-faced beastman across the room. He then casts a spell, fire wrapping around the beastman’s mouth like a gag, silencing him. The wolf-faced beastman shudders in fear as Kaedan steps closer, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him forward.
Kaedan (growling): "You’d better start talking before I tear you apart."
(The wolf beastman’s nose starts bleeding as Kaedan slams a fist into his face. He gasps, trembling in fear.)
Wolf Beastman (breathing heavily): "It’s too late for you now... too late for all of you."
King Solomon (narrowing his eyes): "What do you mean?"
(The wolf beastman grins through his pain, his voice filled with malice.)
Wolf Beastman (spitting the words): "You fools. Develious is on the move. Your world is finished. The border between Develious and Marth is weakening. In ten years, it’ll shatter completely. Beings far more powerful than us are already crossing into your world. We’ve built an army. We’ll kill all of you—tear you apart limb from limb. Your children, your women, your homes—none will be spared."
He starts laughing maniacally, even though he’s clearly in pain. Kaedan’s face darkens with fury, but King Solomon steps forward, pushing him aside. Grabbing the wolf beastman by the collar, the king punches him with such force that the beastman’s nose shatters, blood pouring down his face. King Solomon grabs his arm, crushing the bone with a sickening crack.
King Solomon (furiously): "Where will you attack? Speak!"
(The wolf beastman, now barely able to breathe, croaks out in agony.)
Wolf Beastman (gasping): "All five nations... we’ll strike them all at once."
At these words, rage erupts within King Solomon. Flames ignite around his body, his fury manifesting in raw power. With a final, furious punch, he sends the wolf beastman flying into the cell wall, causing cracks to form. The beastman slumps to the ground, unconscious, blood pooling beneath him. Silence fills the room.
(King Solomon stands there, chest heaving, the fire slowly fading from around him. His face is tense, eyes wide with the horrifying realization.)
King Solomon (whispering to himself): "These Bastards…they’re preparing to strike us again, after so many time, After 5 centuries, they are on us again."
(The weight of the threat presses down on him as he stares at the fallen beastmen, dread creeping into his heart.)
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Until next time