Review Replies:
ASL: Sorry ;-;
Reta nolem: gadankadga oh wow, good luck with re-reading all this XXD
AstoriaPhoeinix: Sorry XXD
Percy: Heh, thank yoouuuu. That means a lot! I went over the last few chapters and noted down everyone's injuries. It means a lot that the effort I put in to pick up from where I left off was noticeable! My Maths exams has been cancelled, which is stressful 'cause now I have no idea what we're gonna do about that. I'm in England and I don't think it's too bad from where I am down south, although we're all in quarantine. But overall, I think we're doing okay. I hope everything's alright for you as well!
pichusoup9: Heh, thanks, that's appreciated.
Potato: Awwww, thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter ::) So sorry updates are so far between right now
jessicanightmarewolf: dgjkajga thank youuuuuu, that means so much. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
idontwritetoomuch: Thanks! All of that to you too!
AquaEclipse: Pfft, yeah
TheAmberShadow: That's a really cool idea and I kinda wish I'd thought of it XXD But no, it's only Jesse that isn't healing properly. Sparklez and Stacy are just seriously injured. Pfffffffffft Snomeo XXD / Warden appreciates his efficiency / Hehehehe, I love Mevia- and she gets the spotlight in this chapter! / Chills XXD / Honestly, it's kind of pure luck that they defeat him dgjka. And the fact that Romeo makes the mistake of letting Jesse live (although I have a headcanon that he doesn't actually like killing people) and doesn't react fast enough when Jesse punches him with the Golden Gauntlet the first time. / Yeah, I'm on online classes as well T^T I wish you the best of luck!
ThePlayaJam765: Radar deserves defence and love T^T / I haven't abandoned the story at all ;-; Just writers' block T^T
Cyfallist: Thank youuuuu, I hope you enjoy!
GuardianWitchDemiGhost: Hehe, yeah, Radar and Lukas are awesome. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!
littleclevergem123: And now I've updated again XXD
ArizaLuca: Hehehehe, thank XXD
Northern Goshawk: Thanks! And that's a spoiler ::)
ChibotleKentucky: Yeah, I'm alive XXD
Edit: So I forgot to put a warning for swearing, so uh... Mevia has a potty mouth ;-;
Movie Mode
Episode Ten: Giant Consequences
Chapter One Hundred and Eleven: Game Settings
The mansion's lab was not the most impressive lab Harper had ever seen. That wasn't to say it was lacking- no, it had all types of machines and equipment, and Stampy had theorised a little while ago that the cables and redstone trails near the back were what powered the whole mansion. Harper might have fiddled with it to find out, had she had the time and not been afraid of accidentally cutting off all the power.
But no, it wasn't the most impressive lab she'd seen. It was just a few notches down from the one she had hidden away in Crown Mesa, which was a good few notches down from the one she'd had before she split off from the others with the Redstone Heart. The best lab she'd ever had was, without a doubt, the one she'd built over the course of a decade in Crown Mesa, the one she'd used to build PAMA. Of course, it had been compromised when it started to take control of people, and Harper had to be incredibly careful when gathering supplies and building her new lab. The thought of all that hard work, lost, still made her chest ache.
"Where's Olivia?" Stampy asked, as he passed Ellegaard some pliers. She blinked, momentarily glancing up from her work, before focusing again.
"She's with Magnus," she said, "She's too hurt to be around all this machinery."
Stampy cocked his head slightly, "I, uh, I- I thought you two hated each other."
Ellegaard paused, a somewhat startled look crossing her face, "I- huh?"
"You and Magnus," Stampy said, cheeks flushing a bit pink, "I- I really thought you two hated each other when I first came here."
"Oh."
"Ye- Yeah."
Ellegaard was quiet for a moment, staring at the mess of wires and circuits in front of her. After a moment, she spoke, "I don't… hate him, we just… have a tendency to argue sometimes."
Stampy seemed to relax a little, glad she wasn't angry at him for prying, "Ah. So you trust him enough to look after Olivia?"
"Of course," Ellegaard said, and returned her attention to her work, "He cares about her too. And Axel."
Harper's lips twitched slightly. Ellegaard glanced at her out the corner of her eye.
"What about you?"
"I- sorry?"
"With Jesse. And his 'sister,' I suppose. And the one with the glasses, I think. They seem to like you." she turned to face the other inventor properly, "Are they… well. Are they yours?"
Harper hesitated, heat rising up her neck, "I… well… I care about them. I certainly care about them."
She fiddled with a few of the circuits, rolling the subject over in her head. After a moment of silence, she looked back at Ellegaard again.
"Would you adopt them?"
Surprised crossed Ellegaard's face, "I- huh?"
"Axel and Olivia," Harper clarified, "Officially, I mean. If you could, would you adopt them?"
Ellegaard was quiet for a moment, "I… I think so."
"With Magnus?" Stampy piped in, almost making the engineer jump. She shot him a look that made him shrink away.
"We're not married or anything."
Harper's lips twitched, "You act like it."
Ellegaard went a bit red and huffed, "Oh, like you're one to talk."
Harper blinked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, come on, you can't act like there's nothing there."
"Nothing… ?"
Ellegaard shot her a rather unimpressed look, "You and Ivor."
Harper blinked slowly. Then something in her brain clicked and her cheeks flamed red.
"I- we are not-"
Ellegaard laughed, "He's head over heels for you! I've never seen him splutter so much. Besides," she leaned her elbows on the worktop, grinning at her, "You two have practically already adopted those kids."
Harper shuffled her feet, hunching in on herself a little. Her cheeks were burning. "I- well- we're just- uh-"
She spluttered a bit; she supposed that's what years of total isolation end up doing to you. You forget how to hold a proper conversation. Particularly when embarrassed.
Ellegaard chuckled and rubbed her shoulder, "I suppose that makes two of us, huh?"
Harper huffed a little, still bright red, but cracked a smile. They returned to the x-ray, Stampy starting to chatter away about something or another. Harper couldn't help but debate her own question.
Would she adopt the kids, if she was able to? If they wanted her to?
With Ivor?
The thought made her feel a bit warm. She'd never been that bothered about being a mother (although she supposed she had been, once, in a smaller way, when they found a little red-haired girl stealing parts of their machines), hadn't truly given it much thought- but these kids…
She wanted to keep them safe.
That much, she knew.
The x-ray gave a low, mechanical hum. Ivor printed off the sheets, taking the pictures of Stacy and Sparklez' broken fractured spines and scribbled notes and annotations in red ink. The two YouTubers were quick to settle back on the couch, although Sparklez found, with a rather hoarse laugh, that he couldn't walk at all.
Ivor felt the presence behind him- and for a brief, terrifying moment, he thought the room had dropped in temperature- before Reginald cleared his throat. The potionologist turned to find Hadrian standing next to the Captain of the Guard, his wrists still chained but his ankles freed. He looked rather nonchalant, for someone in chains.
"He wanted to speak to you," Reginald said. Ivor raised his eyebrows and looked at Hadrian.
"Does it involve murdering my son?"
Hadrian opened his mouth- maybe to say something like 'he's not really your son'- but he seemed to catch himself. Instead, he said, "I think you should poof the two with the broken spines."
Both Ivor and Reginald stared at him. The potionologist blinked slowly.
"... If you're only going to suggest murder-"
Hadrian huffed, "I am not suggesting murder."
"Really? Are you certain?" Ivor leaned closer, not bothering to keep his glaring scowl at bay, "Because it sure sounds like murder to me."
The man made a rather obvious effort to avoid rolling his eyes, "There's respawn."
"We don't know if it's stable."
"Listen," Hadrian said, with fraying patience, "There's a certain time frame where respawn will fix every injury- even broken spines and paralysis. But if we wait too long, then the injuries will become permanent. Just ask Mevia."
Ivor's eyes narrowed, "Why should we be willing to risk the respawn faulting out?"
Hadrian shrugged, "Just something to think about."
"Hm."
Reginald hesitated, "It… could be."
Hadrian raised his eyebrows. Ivor shot the guard a frown.
"You're listening to him?"
"He's insane," Reginald declared, ignoring the way Hadrian rolled his eyes at that, "But he's not stupid. I believe this may be something to consider bringing up with the other Old Builders. To see if it's possible."
"Oh, it is," Hadrian assured him, "There's always a main point for respawn. Somewhere you can turn it on and off, adjust the settings, pick the respawn area- that sort of thing. We usually just refer to it as the Games Settings, considering we don't normally use it for anything other than the Games."
"What else do you use it for?" Reginald asked, a little warily. Hadrian shrugged.
"If there's a chance of someone dying," he said, "Like if there's a risky surgery going on. Or someone's dangerously ill. That kind of thing. We don't need to use it for that very often."
"Seems like a waste," Ivor hummed, "Prioritising it for the games when it can be used for things like that."
"We decided to keep respawn to ourselves," Hadrian said, firmly, "Because of the sort of stuff people could do with it if it got into the wrong hands."
Reginald raised his eyebrows, "How do you mean?"
Hadrian huffed, shooting him an irritated look, "Surely you're not that dim."
The guard blinked, then scowled slightly, "Hmph. Indulge me."
"Torture," the man snapped, "Imagine the things you could do to someone if no matter what you did to them, they didn't stay dead? Not to mention over-population. And there'd be an increase in reckless and dangerous activity."
Reginald and Ivor glanced at each other.
"... He's not wrong," Ivor muttered, a tad reluctantly. Reginald hummed, brow creasing.
"Perhaps."
"If you're so worried about the respawn glitching," Hadrian drawled, "I could configure its settings if we can find them."
"No," Ivor glared, "Absolutely not."
The Old Builder rolled his eyes, "I'm not going to do anything to it. You could have Mevia, Harper or Otto come with me if you're that worried."
"Why shouldn't they just do it themselves?" Reginald asked. Hadrian glanced at him.
"Because I'm the one that built the majority of the respawn. I know it better than anyone."
There was a small pause where they let this sunk in. Ivor pressed his lips together and glanced down at the x-rays again. Sparklez couldn't feel his legs.
"We'll keep it in mind," he grunted. Hadrian simply hummed.
"Alright."
Reginald led him away. Ivor huffed a sigh and sat down the x-rays, massaging the bridge of his nose. If they could make sure the respawn actually worked… but it would mean trusting Hadrian. At least to an extent. Even if they sent someone who had a good idea of what he was doing with him.
It was true that it had never failed Jessi while she was in the mansion (his stomach curled sickeningly as the thought of why), but she had also told them that the lights had never once flickered and that the sun had never once gone down. It had all been at a stand-still.
Ivor wasn't willing to put his trust into the respawn. He wasn't willing to put his trust into this blasted mansion.
And he certainly wasn't willing to put his trust into Hadrian.
But…
But if it did work…
If Hadrian wasn't lying…
Then they'd be able to help Sparklez and Stacy.
They might even be able to help Jesse's arm.
Ivor put down hard on the flesh of the inside of his mouth. His fingers tapped a rhythm against Stacy's x-ray. Against her shattered spine.
Shattered, he realised.
Fractured, yes.
But also shattered. A few discs in the small of her back.
Ivor was good with medicine. He was good with potions. He was good with injuries. He could even perform surgeries, although he certainly wouldn't call himself incredibly qualified.
But he didn't think he could fix this.
"It's up there?"
"Yup," said Clutch, climbing back down from the attic ladder, "It's definitely up there. Looks nearly identical to the one back at the Games."
"Well then," Otto smoothed out some creases in his robes, glancing over at his old friend, "I suppose we're doing this."
Harper shifted her weight and frowned, "Can't the Gladiators do it if they know what it looks like?"
"Oh, we can turn it on and off," Clutch shrugged, "And we can tell if it's on or off. And we can, like, maybe look at it and see if there's something obvious wrong. But that's about it. We can't, like, fix it if it's broken or anything."
"Is there something wrong with it?" Otto asked. Clutch let out a long breath, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Oh, man, yeah, that's hard to say," she admitted, "It looks like ours, but there's something… I dunno, off about it. I definitely wouldn't want to go about trusting it. This is someone's life, after all."
Otto nodded, giving her a small smile, "Of course. Thank you, Clutch."
"Anytime, sir."
She trailed away. Harper turned to Otto.
"We worked on the respawn," she said, "We should look at it."
"Hadrian knows it better than anyone," he said, gently, "You know this. Besides, he and Mevia have modified it within the last few years. And who's to say that this respawn is anything like ours to begin with? Our best chance with it is to let the experts look."
Harper huffed, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. There was an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. "I don't like this."
"I know."
"He tried to murder Jesse."
"I know."
"What happened to him?"
Otto was quiet. He looked at her and gave his head a small shake. "I'm not sure."
Harper sighed. She rubbed her eyes. "I never thought he'd go that far," she mumbled, "Not even when we were all fighting and hated each other and…"
She trailed off. Otto reached over and squeezed her hand.
"Neither did I," he said, quietly. Harper didn't say anything for a moment. She squeezed back.
"Is… he still going to therapy?"
"Hadrian?" Otto raised an eyebrow, "He is. Once a week, usually. Are you?"
Harper gave him a strained smile, "Little hard when you're basically living in the apocalypse."
"Ah," he said, and tugged her into a one-armed hug. Harper leaned into him a little.
It was another moment before Otto spoke.
"We'll send Mevia with him," he said, and gave her a gentle squeeze, "She'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."
"Yeah," Harper mumbled. She closed her eyes. "That'll work."
Mevia muttered a swear, peering down into the mess of tangled wires. Hadrian knelt next to her, tugging at the sparking guts to get a better idea of what was in deeper. His brow was furrowed in concentration; they'd taken off his handcuffs so he could work. She watched his movements closely. Like she'd been told to do.
She almost found it laughable. How things had come to… well. To this.
Her cheek stung a little. Even though it had been ages since he'd slapped her. Even though it hadn't even hurt that much.
Hadrian leaned closer to the Game Settings, absently flicking a few switches and adjusting a few wires. They worked in silence, but it wasn't a comfortable silence. It wasn't quite tense either. Mevia might even say it was… awkward.
They hadn't talked properly since it had happened.
They certainly hadn't been left in the same room together
Sparks stung the tips of her fingers and she jerked her hand back with a whispered curse. Hadrian glanced at her, before reaching into the toolbox they'd been given and handing her some gloves. She took them silently and tugged them on; he turned back to the mechanical guts in front of them.
They worked for a few more minutes. Finally, Hadrian gave a quiet grunt.
"We can reset it," he said, "That'll bring it back to its default settings."
"What are the settings on now?"
"No idea," he muttered, shifting further into the machine so that he was elbows-deep in mechanical guts, "But let's say it was a good idea not to put our faith in it."
"Bet that's disappointing," Mevia mumbled. Hadrian paused and glanced at her.
"... What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, you know," Mevia shrugged, unable to keep the frigid ice out of her voice. Something bubbled in her gut and twisted in her chest. "Trying to murder a child and all. Shame that the respawn didn't falter, huh?"
Hadrian stared at her almost blankly for a long moment. He pulled out of the Game Settings and frowned. "Are you mad at me?"
"Mad at you?" Mevia laughed, a bitter, cold laugh that made his frown deepen, "Oh, I wonder why you'd think that? It's not like you tried to kill a kid or anything, right? It's not like you slapped me."
The anger bubbled over, spewing from her tongue like scalding foam. Hadrian's eyes flickered to her cheek, then away. His face was hard to read, but she noticed the slight press of his lips and the small crease of his brow. After a moment, he turned back to the Games Settings, flipping a few switches and adjusting a few wires.
"I'll reset it," he muttered, "It'll take fifteen minutes."
Mevia looked away, something bitter creeping up her throat, "God, you're such an asshole."
"So I've heard," he fiddled with the settings for a moment longer, before pulling away. He watched the machine quietly whir away for a moment. "He dismantles the Games."
"Oh, so what?" Mevia snapped, and Hadrian shot her a startled look, "We never, ever kill people! We might send them to work in the mines and we might never let them actually win, but for god's sake, Hadrian, since when have we ever been okay with murder?"
"It was under control."
"And that's all you ever care about, isn't it?" she stood, almost trembling with rage, "Being in control."
Hadrian stood as well, his face darkening ever so slightly, "I suppose you want to be sent to a world of giant chickens, then?"
Mevia rolled her eyes, "Like we wouldn't be able to escape. I'd prefer that inconvenience over murdering a kid."
"He's fine, isn't he?"
"No," she glared, jaw clenching, "He's not."
Hadrian sighed and turned away, shaking his head, "As though I haven't been punished enough, huh? I've literally been in shackles, Mevia. Cassie murdered multiple people and she was given a slap to the wrist compared to what they've done to me."
"That's because you didn't do it onscreen," Mevia growled, "You did it under our noses."
"That's besides the point."
"It's not," she shifted to stand in front of him again, so he could see the anger on her face, feel her glare. Fury left her blood bubbling and boiling in her veins, dripped from her tongue like acid. "And what about Cassie, huh? Did she even run away or was that another one of your lies?"
Hadrian didn't answer. Mevia's scowl slowly faded.
"... You fucking asshole."
"Mevia-"
"What did you do?" she stepped closer, "Hadrian, what the hell did you do to her?"
"I did it because I didn't want to hurt her," he said, and met her glare with an only slightly weaker one, "She was better off in that world than she ever was with any of us."
"She was ten."
"I'm not the one that almost threw a chair at her."
Mevia grabbed the front of his suit and slammed him hard against the bookshelf; dust burst out and fell on them in clouds. Hadrian sneezed. Mevia's face was twisted.
"Don't you dare," she growled, "Don't you dare make me out as the bad guy here. You know for a fact that I wasn't throwing a chair at her."
"No," Hadrian grimaced slightly, "But it almost hit her."
"It hit the wall."
"Next to the doorway she was standing in."
"This isn't about what I did," her grip tightened, "Stop avoiding the goddamn question."
For a moment, Hadrian didn't say anything. She kept glaring at him. He didn't glare back.
Finally, he sighed, "Fine. Can we at least sit down?"
Mevia pressed her lips together, but pulled back and let him go. They sat on the floor next to the whirring machine, partly hidden within the floorboards. Neither of them said anything for a long moment.
"You remember what we did with her," he said, quietly, "When all of our fighting started to get bad?"
"You mean when we kept her in her room?" Mevia asked, raising her eyebrows, "She was little. We didn't want her around with us fighting like that. What of it?"
"You remember I started locking her in there?"
Mevia was quiet for a moment, "... Vaguely. Was that after I threw the chair at Isa?"
Hadrian nodded, "Cassie burst into tears. So I took her back to her room and… when I left again, I locked the door."
"That was probably the one thing we all agreed with," Mevia murmured, "Keeping her away from it."
Hadrian hummed quietly, "Apparently I have control issues."
"Really," Mevia raised her eyebrows, "Whoever could have guessed that?"
"Very funny."
"Did your therapist tell you?"
"Yes," Hadrian sighed, vaguely irritated. He tried to push it aside. "There was nothing I could do about everyone leaving. It was… frustrating. Even with all the fighting."
"You weren't in control?"
"That's one way to put it."
"Hm. What does this have to do with Cassie?"
Hadrian hesitated, but only for a moment, "I didn't stop locking her in her room after they left."
"You what-"
"I know," he grunted, "I don't know why I did it."
"You told us she wanted to stay in her room," Mevia growled, "I thought the door was locked from the inside. I thought she'd locked it."
"I know."
"What the hell, Hadrian?"
"I know," he snapped this, if only slightly, then sighed, "Xe said it was some… some coping mechanism or something stupid like that. A bad one, obviously."
"A coping mechanism," Mevia repeated. Hadrian scowled slightly.
"That was xer thoughts on it, anyway…"
"You talked about this with your therapist?"
"Reluctantly."
"What else did xe have to say?"
"I didn't agree to talk about my therapist."
"Too bad."
He very clearly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He huffed a sigh. "Fine. Fine. Xe said me keeping her locked up- keeping her under my thumb- was some kind of method for me to stop her from leaving too."
Mevia frowned, "But… you got rid of her."
"I did," Hadrian murmured, "I took her into the Network and… left her in the twin moons world."
They fell into a small silence. Hadrian leaned back against a chest, absently brushing dust from his clothes.
"I knew what I was doing was wrong," he said, quietly, "I wanted to… get her away from me, I suppose."
"You hurt her," Mevia whispered. Hadrian looked down.
"... I know."
Another silence fell into place. Mevia rubbed her eyes. She didn't feel angry anymore. Just tired.
"So, what," she said, finally, "You feel out of control here, so you decided to resort to murder?"
"It had made sense," Hadrian murmured, "At the time."
"You're really fucked up. You know that?"
"Yes," he said, simply, "I do."
Mevia grunted and they fell into silence. The Game Settings whirred quietly; Hadrian checked it to make sure it was resetting properly, but otherwise did nothing. Mevia watched him. After a long, quiet moment, he glanced at her again.
"I don't have my meds," he muttered. Mevia paused.
"The… ones that help you sleep?"
Hadrian nodded, "They're in the cabinet. Back home."
Mevia stared, "Have you slept at all since we came here?"
"I've passed out for a few hours," he grumbled, leaning back against the shelves again, "Twice. First time was only for twenty or so minutes."
"Hadrian, why the hell didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eye. Mevia huffed quietly. Without his glasses in place, she noticed, for the first time, the bags under his eyes.
"If insomnia is caused by a fear of sleeping," she said, carefully, and ignored the look that earned her, "Is it worse than usual because we're in a place where we don't have a lot of control?"
Hadrian was quiet for a moment. He sighed. "I suppose you could put it that way."
Mevia glanced at the Games Settings, "You're right, you know."
"Hm?"
"About none of us having any control here," she clarified, "But I guess you could say it's giving us control by showing us what's going to happen."
Hadrian's brow creased, "I've been wondering that. Why are we here?"
"What do you mean?"
"We were clearly the 'antagonists,' Mevia," he said, a tad sarcastically, "And this seems to be from Jesse's point of view. Why give them a disadvantage by bringing us here as well?"
Mevia seemed to consider this for a moment, absently tapping her knee, "I'm… not sure. Maybe it's trying not to play favourites. Or maybe it thinks something good will come out of it."
"What is it?"
"Wish I knew."
Hadrian grunted at that. She looked at him again.
"These aren't excuses," she said, quietly, "Okay? You're still fucked up. What you did is still fucked up."
"I'm not trying to make excuses," he muttered, "I'm…" he faltered, then huffed, "I apologise for hitting you."
She stared at him, a little surprised. Her lips twitched ever so slightly.
"You better be."
The machine bleeped, alerting that it had finished resetting. Hadrian gratefully shifted over to it, peering once more into its mechanical guts. He flipped a few switches.
"You think they're going to go through with it?" he asked, not looking up. The air felt a little lighter now- less tense. Less awkward. Mevia leaned back against some shelves, surprised by how relieved she was.
"Maybe," she said, "It's not like they're used to respawn. You gonna apologise to Cassie?"
Hadrian paused, "Is… that a necessity?"
"She probably won't forgive you, but she might like an explanation," Mevia said, raising her eyebrows, "You know. Tell her you didn't actually hate her or anything."
He hummed, tugging at a few wires, "I'll… think about it. I won't be surprised if she doesn't want to talk to me."
"You did make her resort to murder."
"Unintentionally," he mumbled, and pulled back from the machine. He flicked a switch and the whole thing lit up green. "There. We should be good."
Mevia stood, stretching, and trailed over. She looked down at the glowing machine.
"It's… almost exactly like ours."
Hadrian frowned, "I noticed."
Mevia shook her head, "Ever wonder what's over that wall?"
"Oh, all the time," he closed up the Games Settings and stood, "And every other blasted thing in this mansion. At least it can't kill us anymore."
She snorted, "That's one upside. We'll check on it once a day. Just in case."
Hadrian nodded and started packing up the tools. Mevia looked at him.
"You… could ask Ivor about sleep potions."
He snorted, "I tried to murder his son, Mevia."
"Still. It might help."
He stood again, handing her the toolbox. He looked at her for a moment.
"... Maybe. We should go now."
Mevia nodded, brow creasing slightly. She glanced at the Games Settings, before following Hadrian to the attic's ladder. She tugged off the gloves.
It wasn't an excuse.
But it was something to keep in mind, she supposed.
And that was my attempt to actually humanise an antagonist and explain instead of excuse his actions. Did I get that across? That it was an explanation instead of an excuse? I better have, it was said, like, three times. And now Ariza can update her story dkgjakgj
Since I'm in quarantine, I'm just... gonna binge cartoons. 'Cause I like cartoons. When I'm not doing college work or writing, anyhow.
Hope everyone is staying safe! Remember to wash your hands and stay home.
I'll hopefully update soon XXD Hope you liked the chapter
