Chapter II:
"Faster!" Lin barks at her.
Korra releases a frustrated growl and swings the wooden sword again at the pole. The wooden sword is surprisingly heavy. Korra's arms burn in protest from the heavy weight of the sword. The sword cracks loudly against the side of the wooden pool. It carves a small dent into it. Korra pants as sweat drips down her face. She bends over, breathing heavily. Sweat drips off of the tip of her nose and onto the dirt ground. With a shuddering sigh, Korra lifts herself back up.
"Better. Do it again," Lin commands.
Korra groans in protest. She grips the leather handle of the wooden sword tightly. She straightens her back and twists her torso. She pulls her arm back and snaps it. The sword whooshes through the air and cracks against the pole.
"Very good," Lin says. "You may stop now."
Her shoulders scream from the overuse.
It is evening. Korra has been training since the sun rose in the sky. She hurts like she never has before.
A bell rings sharp and clear. Korra's stomach grumbles in acknowledgement. It is feeding time. It is probably Korra's favorite part of the day. She straps the heavy wooden sword to her leather belt.
The wooden sword represents so much. It represents freedom and respect; something that Korra craves with every inch of her being. Although the sword Korra owns does not represent the same, it gives Korra hope. The rudis would soon be hers. Soon she would be free.
Korra follows Lin to the barracks. Lin is a very ornery woman, much like an old cat. She has graying hairs and sports a scar on the right side of her face. The scar is a faded pink, like a tired sunset. Two slashes go from her chin up to her cheek. Her long hair is pulled into a tight bun. She walks with confidence and tilts her chin up. Korra decides that she has a superiority complex.
Lin does not talk much, except to scold or encourage Korra. From what Korra has gathered, Lin used to fight in the arena. Lin never had been a slave, either. She chose to join the arena freely. After buying herself out of the contract with her lanista using the winnings she earned in the arena, she herself became a lanista. So far, she has not trained any winning gladiators. None of Lin's students have been freed by the shackles of slavery. Every single one of Lin's students has been slaughtered in the arena and forgotten by history and time. This only fortifies Korra's determination.
Lin specializes in training female gladiators. No one else in the school specializes in the art of the gladiatrix. It does not matter whether they are bender or non-bender, Lin trains them all the same-with harsh criticism and vigorous training. After each of her student's first match, Lin gives them a training regimen to follow which always includes cross-training with the male gladiators. Lin also is not around to guide her students after their first match, since new female gladiators are always flooding in.
Lin and Korra walk out of the arena. No matches were held today, there were no sponsors for one. So, that meant the gladiators can practice in the arena itself, rather than the small training circle a little outside of the arena. Lin stops a moment and looks around as if she were determining where to go. She then turns right and opens a wooden door that leads to a staircase.
Korra cannot help but look at the beautiful stone in awe. It has been a little less than a week, and every time the Colosseum manages to take Korra's breath away.
This is where the eating hall is, along with the barrack dormitories. At the top of the stairs is a hallway leading to it. Both Korra and Lin enter the eating hall at the same time. The gladiators hum with activity. They sit in four different sections. One section is full of pale warriors with dark hair and amber eyes. Some of the men release a flicker of flame to heat their drinks. They must be the firebenders. The section next to the firebenders are a mixture of tan and pale fighters with brown and black hair. Earthbenders. The third section is full of tan people with bright blue eyes. Korra's pulse races. Waterbenders. The final group is a mixture of all of the ethnicities. Non-benders.
No airbenders, though. After the cruel rule of the Emperor Sozin and his offspring, there were no airbenders left. The last known Roman to airbend was Aang. He was to be put to death for witchery but was aided by a woman to escape. No one knows who the woman is, or if she still is alive. After a violent revolution, the firebenders were overthrown. The earthbenders took their place as the leaders of Rome.
Lin goes to sit with the other trainers. Korra glances around the room once more and decides against sitting next to anyone. Instead, she sits at an open table next to the waterbenders. The gladiators at the table would not have allowed Korra to sit next to them, anyways. She must survive her first battle to earn that honor. Other new gladiators sit alone as well, they are scattered across the rooms like leaves in the wind.
A wooden plate is set in front of her by one of the workers. The plate is filled with creamed barley. Sprinkled on top are dried apricots. A goblet filled with ashes and water soon follows the plate. No meat is present at the meal. Gladiators are vegetarians, apparently. Korra's stomach grumbles and she begins to eat. She quickly scarfs down her meal. She picks up the goblet and looks down at the drink flecked with gray. Korra takes a sip of the mixture. It tastes like smoke and has a bitter aftertaste. Korra grimaces at the taste, but continues to drink anyways.
Korra sets the goblet down with a thud. She releases a loud belch as a second plate of food is placed in front of her. This time it is barley with dried cherries on the top. Korra nods her thanks to the worker and begins to eat her second helping of food.
The barley is tasteless but it fills Korra's stomach. After finishing her second helping, Korra leaves her plate and goblet at the table. She stands and leaves to the barrack bedrooms. She turns to enter the female dormitory. She nods at the guard standing in front of the doorway. Not only is the guard there to protect the female gladiators, but he is to prevent them from escaping the arena.
Korra walks into the dormitory and spots her bed immediately. Her bed is in the corner of the room, right next to the arch. Korra reaches the arch and rests her elbows on the base of it. It is a smaller arch than the main ones. She peers outside and inhales deeply, enjoying the smell of stone, sweat, and wood.
It is only the end of Januarius, and so much of Korra's life has changed. Korra stares at the moon, contemplating, until it is covered with dark and angry storm clouds. A thunderclap bellows like a drunken man. It starts to rain heavily. The raindrops hit and splatter against Korra's skin. Korra lifts the raindrops off of her skin with a flick of her hand and sends them back outside. She steps away from the arch and climbs into the bed. She unties the sash holding up her tunic and tosses it on the ground. She pulls her tunic off over the top of her head.
The door opens again and two pairs of female warriors walk into the room. A few of them groan.
"Fucking rain," one of them grumbles.
Korra steps into bed with nothing but a loincloth and a mamillare . She covers her knees with the blanket and leans her back against the cold stone. The cold stone soothes her hot back and Korra lets out a sigh. Her bunkmate clambers up to the top of the bunk.
It rains through the arch and onto the stone floor. The pitter-patter of the rain soothes Korra. She beckons the water to come to her, and it obeys. She presses the water against her arm and wills it to heal. Korra has been doing this after every day of training.
"You really should not be doing that," Her bunk mate mutters.
"Why?" Korra asks.
Another voice joins the conversation. "You will not become any stronger if you do that."
Korra rolls her eyes and continues to heal her aching arm.
"You are an idiotic donkey," Her bunk mate sighs.
The other woman speaks up. "It is fine. Let the novicius think she knows everything. She will learn on her own."
Korra shifts the water to her other arm and begins to heal it.
"Mind your own business," Korra grunts.
The bed above Korra's head shifts and a loud sigh is released. "Fool," Korra can barely hear the remark
Before Korra can respond, an argument breaks out in the front of the room.
"Listen here, you earthbending swine, keep your shit to yourself!" Someone growls loudly.
"Fuck off, you firebending dirt bag!" The earthbender responds just as loud, on the border of yelling.
A pounding on the door echoes throughout the sleeping chambers.
"Quiet down in there! Unless you ladies are interested a night in the cell, I would keep your mouths shut!" The guard yells through the door.
Everyone in the room grows quiet immediately. Even their breathing slows. No one wants to spend a night in the cell. Going into the cell means that you are a prisoner, and a prisoner is lower than a slave. A prisoner is meant to be shamed and can gain no honor. A slave, on the other hand, can gain honor. Nobody wants to be lower than a slave.
Being in a cell also meant dirt for food and rocks to sleep on. It is better to just go along with what the guards and editors say. Besides, each and every one of the gladiators had sworn a sacramentum. So by law, they have to obey. It is either that, or be executed.
Korra pushes herself off the wall and slides into the covers of the bed. Her eyes flutter shut gently. She pushes the anger out of her mind and focuses on sleeping.
The rhythm of the rain lulls Korra to sleep.
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The next morning comes far too early, and Korra struggles to open her eyes.
Despite healing her arms the night before, Korra's biceps and upper back ache. It burns slowly like a sunburn underneath the skin. Korra groans as she stands up and stretches. Seconds later, the bell sounds with a dominant ring.
Korra puts on her tunic that is on the floor. The tunic is beginning to smell. Korra wrinkles her nose at the smell of old sweat and grime. She pads across the cold stone floor barefoot, as she always does. The rest of her roommates follow suit or are ahead of Korra.
Breakfast is the same as dinner and once again, Korra avoids sitting next to anyone. Occasionally she shoots glares at gladiators at nearby tables. They return them without hesitation but Korra does not fear them. Instead, she breaks eye contact and focuses on scarfing down her food.
Lin walks over to her Korra shortly after finishing her meal.
"What are we to do today?" Korra asks.
"Not much training," Lin says.
"What? What do you mean 'not much training'?" Korra says a little indignantly.
Lin gives Korra a warning look and Korra shuts her mouth, but not before glaring at the floor.
"You are receiving your tattoos today," Lin says.
Excitement washes over Korra's irritation. Tattoos are common amongst the gladiators. Nearly every single one of them has a tattoo, if not more. Those who do not have the ink markings are gladiators-in-training, much like how Korra is.
"Really?!" Korra exclaims.
Lin nods. "Yes. Now stop asking questions and follow me."
When they reach Katara's medicine den, Katara greets them with warmth.
Korra bows deeply to the old woman. Korra enjoys Katara's company very much. Judging by her ability to waterbend and her sparkling, bright, blue eyes, Korra assumes that she too is from the Northern Tribes. It does not hurt that Katara always treats Korra with a respect no one else does in the arena. Except maybe Lin, but that is only when Korra does something right. And it is not often that Korra does something right, so respect and compassion are hard to come by.
"Is Korra here for her markings?" Katara asks.
Lin nods. "I am going to help Varrick train his non-benders for the upcoming match against our rival school while Korra receives her markings," Lin says as she walks out of the den, her gray hair and tunic fluttering in the wind.
"Now, where do you want your tattoo?" Katara asks.
Korra blurts out. "My bicep. I want a blue and white armband," She says without a second thought.
Katara chuckles at Korra's outburst. "Which arm?"
"I want the stigma on my right arm," Korra says.
Katara nods and grabs the needle. Korra sits down on a wooden bench while Katara washes off the skin of Korra's bicep. The water is cool.
Korra did not expect the tattooing process to be painful. But Spirits! It hurt like a bee sting. Korra closes her eyes and grinds her teeth. Her jaw throbs as each needle enters her skin. Korra opens one eye to look at the needle entering her skin.
The needle enters, Korra flinches, but after Katara takes the needle out she rubs a mixture of ash and blue dye into the opening.
"Most people cry when they are marked," Katara notes.
Korra grunts in response and closes her eye.
The process takes at least four hours, if not more. Korra nearly passes out a few times, especially when the needle enters the soft side of her arm. But Korra does not cry. Her eyes sting from her pushing back the tears.
"I am finished," Katara says, pulling away.
Korra looks down at her right arm. A beautiful blue and white armband with a triangular design decorates Korra's arm. Little blue circles are placed within the centers of the white triangles. Korra breathes out in awe.
"This is beautiful," She whispers.
"Now, your stigma is going to hurt for a few days, perhaps a week. It is like a flesh wound, so you must protect it. After it heals initially, it will begin to itch. You must not scratch the skin, otherwise it will not heal and it will ruin your marking," Katara explains.
Korra smiles and nods excitedly. She pulls her hair up into a wolf tail, leaving two sections of hair to frame her face.
"Thank you so much!" Korra beams.
"It is my job, my dear. Oh! And Korra?" Katara asks.
"Yes?"
"You really should not heal your aching muscles. How do you expect to get any stronger without giving your body time to build muscle?" Katara says knowingly.
Korra's eyes widen. "How did you know I do that? Did that stupid, good-for-nothing, earthbending dirt tell you?" Korra demands.
"No," Katara responds calmly. "I see many things. I understand. I know more than you would care to understand," Katara says cryptically.
Korra leaves the medicine den confused yet assured. Katara is there to protect and help Korra. The young gladiator knows that for sure.
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Lin growls with frustration. It has been a few days since Korra received her markings.
"Damn it, Korra! Swing that damn blade faster!" Lin yells.
Korra glares at Lin and swings at the straw dummy with all of her might. The wooden sword feels foreign in her hand. It does not belong there.
Lin glances between the straw dummy and Korra. Lin is clearly upset. Her temple throbs haphazardly and her jaw is clenched down tight. She pinches the area between her eyebrows and lets out a sigh.
"Alright. I did not want this to go this way but, I do not think the sword is meant for your hands," Lin says.
"What else is there?" Korra says as she wipes sweat off of her brow.
"You could be a retiarius. A retiarius is a net fighter," Lin explains impatiently.
"You must be kidding me. How can you fight with a net?"
"If you had let me finish my sentence," Lin says sharply. "You would know."
"Sorry," Korra apologizes.
Lin waves off her apology. "You would fight with a trident."
Korra's eyes widen in awe. A trident?! That would be awesome!
"Can we try that instead of the stupid sword?" Korra asks.
"Yes," Lin affirms. Lin takes Korra's wooden sword. She motions for Korra to stay where she is standing. Lin walks over to the weapons stand and sets down the wooden sword. Instead, she picks up a wooden trident, a wooden dagger and a net. She pases the trident to Korra first, then the dagger, then the net.
"The trident is awesome but, what good is a net?" Korra asks as she hooks the dagger through her belt. The trident and net remind Korra of the Northern Tribes and of waterbending. Already, Korra can tell these weapons suit her much better than a simple sword.
"It is to entangle your enemies in the arena. If you manage to get that net over the top of their heads, they will not be able to attack you. That allows you to go in for the kill shot," Lin explains.
The thought of killing yet another person sends a chill down Korra's spine. Her throat becomes dry and when Korra swallows, it feels like sand.
"Do I, um, have to fight other people?" Korra asks.
Lin glances at Korra knowingly. "For your first few matches, no. I would suppose you could fight beasts."
The pressure building up in Korra's chest subsides. She lets out a small sigh of relief, hoping that Lin does not notice.
She does.
"It will only be for your first few matches, Korra. After that, you fight other people," Lin says.
"Do I have to kill them?" Korra asks quietly.
Lin lets out a sigh, "That depends on the crowd. If they are thirsty for blood, they will vote for you to kill your opponent."
Korra nods absentmindedly. Korra understands having to accept her own death with dignity and grace. It is her duty to do so, and she is not afraid. She vowed to do so upon entering the arena. To die gracefully is part of the gladiator's duty. It is the only way to retain any sort of dignity in defeat.
But to end another person's life? Korra does not want to force another gladiator to fulfill those vows. Korra shudders without meaning to as she remembers the man in the cloak that she killed not too long ago.
"What about bending, is that allowed?" Korra asks, desperately attempting to think of something else.
"Bending is indeed allowed. However, it is not allowed when you are fighting a non-bender. If the crowd spots you bending against a non-bender, the punishment is death. So, with a non-bender you may only fight with the weapons that are given to you in the beginning of the match. I swear on the Spirits that I already explained this to you," Lin utters.
It is true. Lin already had explained this to Korra. Infact, Lin went over absolutely everything Korra needed to know in the arena and out of it.
"Yes, I am sure you did. I must have forgot," Korra says sheepishly.
"No matter," Lin quips. "Get back to work."
Training seems to go better after receiving the trident and the net. Korra's spirits lift as she twirls around the trident with ease and skill.
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Korra screams awake from a nightmare. Her roommates stifle groans. None of them say anything, though. They just shift in their straw beds and quiet once more.
Korra glances around the room quickly to check for anything that might be trying to kill her. No gladiators or animals, Korra confirms. She lets out a breath of hot air and tries to ignore her quivering body.
Outside the window, the sun is beginning to rise. Korra's mind fills with dread as she begins to realize that the threat is not in her dreams but is waiting for her outside in the arena.
Today, the first day of Februarius, Korra is to fight in the arena. Korra shudders at the thought.
Korra can vividly picture in her mind the way a beast could tear her in two like a straw dummy. Korra wipes her sweaty palms against the bed and pulls her knees to her chest. She closes her eyes tightly and breathes deeply.
The dreaded bell rings. Korra rises from her bed. Her knees shake but do not buckle. She grips the side of the bunk bed to steady herself. The other women look at Korra in pity. Korra's face burns with shame. She does not want to show weakness in front of her peers. She does not want to be weak.
She must be strong.
Korra lets go of the post of the bunk bed and stands up. She takes slow steps towards the door and descends down to the eating hall. Breakfast seems repulsive and Korra pushes her food away. Lin walks by and pushes the bowl back towards Korra.
"Eat," Is all Lin says. Lin is nervous too, Korra can tell. The hairs on Korra's neck raise as she attempts to stomach her food.
Korra shoves the barley in her mouth. It feels like mud. It tastes like dirt. Even the fruit tastes like sand in Korra's mouth. Korra can barely swallow her food. The gladiators at the other tables glance over to Korra. They know it is the new gladiators debut. All of them are to fight in the arena today.
They will either survive or they will die.
Not only is Korra's life on the line, but also that it seems like absolutely everyone in Rome will be there watching. Even the Emperor. Even his family. Even the Sato family. Kuvira, Opal, Wing, Wei, Huan, Bataar and Asami will be watching. They will either see Korra succeed or watch her die trying.
It would be embarrassing to die in front of everybody. Korra thinks to herself miserably. With my luck, that is exactly what is going to happen. Spirits, I am fucked.
Korra rises and leaves the table to go to lavatory. The lavatory is outside of the dining hall. Korra walks briskly to it. When she reaches the bathroom the reek of waste fills her nose. She quickly lifts the stone to the side and relieves and cleans herself.
The stench of her own waste mixed with others is too much for Korra's stomach to bare. The contents of her stomach empty out on the floor with a disgusting splash. Korra almost runs out of the lavatory and back into the dining hall, panting from exhaustion and fear.
The bell rings. The day in the arena is about to begin. Korra's stomach drops as she recalls her nightmare. The novice gladiators assemble in a line and march out of the dining hall, down the stairs, and to the arena.
Beyond the confines of the marble building, Korra can hear the roars of people, just like she could on the first day. Except today, the thundering of people is much louder than before.
"Alright!" Lin shouts over the sound of people. She looks in the line and points to a tan non-bender. "You!" The man points a finger at himself as if to ask, "Me?"
Lin rolls her eyes. "Yes, you! You are fighting first, Varrick's orders! He asked for the 'short, chunky tan one' to fight. So, here we are! Grab your equipment, get suited up and head out there!" Lin shouts.
The tan man pales with fear as he begins to put on his armor. He carries a long, six foot spear and a small shield. He wears a helmet and a chest plate-nothing else besides a loincloth with a short gladius strapped to it. The helmet looks strange since it has two large eye holes that make the man look like an insect. The guards pull open the gate with a lever. The iron gate lifts. Varrick seems to appear out of thin air and motions for the man to go fight. The man enters the arena and the crowd's cheering is near deafening. The portcullis shuts and Korra steps right next to it to peer into the arena.
The opposite portcullis opens and a massive bear enters the arena with a roar. The ground below where the gladiator stands is now wet. Korra does not blame the man one bit. That bear sure is terrifying.
The man shakes his head and he jogs to the center of the arena. His knees bend and he lifts his shield to cover his chest. He raises the spear up and waits. The bear and the man walk around in a circle. The bell rings. The match has begun.
Suddenly, the bear charges with astounding speed. Its claws kick up the arena's dirt. The man leaps out of the way and makes a slash with his spear. It seems to do nothing against the massive bear. The bear only hisses with annoyance and turns to take a swipe at the man. The man blocks the bear's blow with his shield, but he is thrown back by the attack.
The man falls to the ground and rises immediately. He takes a few steps back, draws his arm back and releases the spear into the air.
The spear whistles and howls through the air and it lands in the side of the bear. The bear howls with pain and is enraged. The man draws his small sword as he begins to realize his error.
Without the long spear, he has nothing keeping the bear away except a toothpick of a sword.
"And that is why we do not throw our spears!" Varrick says cheerfully and full of underlying snark.
The bear takes no break and charges at the man. The man stands his ground valiantly and swings his sword. The bear tackles the man to the ground, ignoring the gladius. It roars in the man's face. Then, without hesitation bites his face off. The bear moves to the poor man's neck and tears it out.
Blood spurts everywhere and Korra looks away and closes her eyes.
"Well, that's the end of that!" Varrick says as if he is not surprised.
The trainers usher the bear back into the holding chamber with a crack of a wip. Someone drags the man's body out of the arena. Korra looks down at the passing corpse.
"Korra," Lin says.
Korra's stomach drops. She really wishes it would stop doing that.
"You are up," Lin says.
"Yes…So it seems," Korra whispers slowly. She grabs a two-handed trident instead of a single-handed one. She grabs no net but grabs two daggers instead. Lin puts on Korra's arm armor. A helmet similar to the one the man had worn is placed on Korra's head.
"Spirits give me strength," Korra murmurs.
"Good luck out there, kid. And remember, no bending," Lin coaches her. Her eyes are guarded.
"I will try to make you proud," Korra swallows.
The portcullis opens and Korra steps through.
The sun is blinding, the crowd, deafening. She quickly steps into the middle of the arena. In front of her is where the Emperor sits in an elevated chair. His family surround him.
Korra catches Kuvira's eye and Kuvira nods once. Korra grins, showing her bright smile. Too bad the helmet blocks her smile. Her gaze travels through the family and the Sato's as well. Korra can see Asami trying to catch her attention but she decides it is better not to be distracted by the black-haired beauty. She ignores the way Asami looks deflated.
The other portcullis opens. The same bear enters the arena. Dread fills every inch of Korra's being.
Hold your bladder, hold your bladder, hold your bladder! Korra thinks to herself.
The bear roars as if it is ready to fight again. The bear seems confident, even cocky about the upcoming fight.
The bell rings and Korra bounds forward, trident in hand. She stops ten feet away from the bear and shifts the trident to her right hand. She fumbles to grab a dagger. The bear claws the ground and charges. Korra throws the dagger and it lodges in the bear's chest. It does not stop running.
She leaps out of the way, stabbing the trident upright into the ground and pivoting around it. She swings around the trident and kicks the bear in the head. The crowd cheers madly. She pulls the trident out the ground and assumes an aggressive position. The bear and Korra make eye contact. Korra can see the fear and pain within the bear's eyes. The bear's eyes look up, pleading for an end. The bear snorts out of its nose and charges forward, the moment of understanding vanished into thin air.
"Mea culpa!" Korra shouts as she thrusts the trident forward. The bear tackles into the trident and it pierces through the backside of the bear. This does not stop the bear from toppling over Korra. The bear's weight crushes Korra and the bear's claws scratch her sides as post-mortem revenge. Or so Korra thinks. The crowd becomes silent.
Korra groans in pain as she feels her blood trickle against the ground. She struggles to get out from underneath the bear. The bear groans. Korra gasps in surprise.
It is still alive! Spirits blast it!
The bear's maw attempts to bite off Korra's face. She raises her arms up to protect her face and the bear instead bites Korra's armored arm. The bears teeth lodge into the metal and become stuck. The bear tosses its head from side-to-side violently, lifting Korra up from the ground and tossing her around like a ragdoll. Korra uses her free arm to punch the bear in the nose with all her might. While she punches the bear in the nose, she wrenches her arm free, pulling the bear's teeth with it. The bear staggers back and wavers. The crowd hollers with approval.
With her final dagger, Korra thrusts it in the bear's neck. The bear collapses to the ground and offers one final breath, then is unmoving.
Korra retrieves her trident and raises it up in the air victoriously.
The crowd cheers. Korra smiles as her spirits are lifted as high as the sky. This feeling is what it means to be a gladiator. Roses and coins are thrown into the arena.
Korra spots Kuvira clapping stoically in the crowd, which is an expected reaction from a woman like Kuvira. Asami, on the other hand is jumping up and down excitedly in her seat, cheering loudly.
I won! Korra thinks to herself with a hint of pride.
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Rudis- The wooden sword that symbolized a gladiator's freedom from the arena.
Lanista- The owner of a gladiator troop
Gladiatrix- A female gladiator (Also known as an Amazone(s))
Januarius- January
Mamillare- An ancient bra
Sacramentum- An oath sworn by gladiators to die honorably and heed their trainers orders. Violation of this oath resulted in execution.
Stigma- A predecessor to the modern tattoo
Novicius- A gladiator who has not fought their first battle
Retiarius-Translates into "net fighter" which is a type of gladiator that fought in the arena.
Februarius- February
Gladius-A Roman short sword
Mea culpa- Translates directly to "my fault" but is used in circumstances in which the party using it feels guilty or remorseful.
A/N: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THOSE KIND SOULS WHO REVIEWED, FOLLOWED AND FAVORITED MY STORY. YOU GUYS HONESTLY ARE THE BEST. PEACE OUT ~Chemistry God