Chapter 23: Tragic Failure
Shuyin sat on the floor of his cage, watching as the warrior monk climbed an impossibly tall ladder to change the monitoring spheres near the cages for new ones. "Why bother to record me? It's not like I can do anything interesting in here?" he groused. When the monk didn't respond, Shuyin raised his volume a notch. "If this war drags on much longer, I think I may die of boredom."
The monk cast an irritated glance toward the prisoner. "Bah! The only reason the war's dragging on is because Zanarkand refuses to surrender."
Shuyin got to his feet. "If you'd stop attacking, there wouldn't be a war! Someday your precious weapons will end up destroying you."
The monk removed one sphere and replaced it with another, placing the used one in a bin bound for the review office. "Not as long as they stay under our control - which is why you're under lock and key, remember? Vegnagun's supposed to be under wraps because it still has a few kinks they have to work out. It can't tell friend from foe, or they would've used it on Zanarkand already. But now that you know where it is and almost figured out how to use it, you're probably going to be executed. Oh, by the way, that summoner you were trying to talk to? She asked about you. I guess you two are an item - or at least you used to be. She's going to be executed for heresy once they have all her information on Yevon. So, whether it was for Vegnagun or your girl, you failed. Guess you're sorry now that you came all this way just to rot in here, huh?" He replaced another old sphere with a new one.
Shuyin's eyes narrowed on the antagonistic man. "No, I'm not sorry! I didn't do anything wrong!" He grasped the bars of his cage, but the warrior monk only snickered, tucked the review office bin under one arm, and walked away. "I know you're listening! If she was your girl, what would you do? How can you blame me for trying to use your weapon? It was the only way to save the summoner! What would you do if you were me? Let me out of here!" Shuyin watched the man exit the area. "I want to see her," he added in weak disappointment, still clutching the bars of his cage as he lowered his head between his arms and slumped back to his knees. Lenne was to be executed. His own fate didn't matter, but he was running out of time to save her.
Shuyin's cage suddenly jerked and dropped toward the ground with uneven, jarring falls. The recently placed sphere dropped out of its nesting socket to the floor. And a ronso come through the same exit the warrior monk had used. "Zen ..."
The ronso used a keycard to open the door. "Find Lenne. Help escape." Scooping the cracked sphere from the floor, he secured it in the pouch at his hip.
"How did you—"
"Talk later. Find Lenne." The ronso passed the keycard into Shuyin's hand and ran back to the exit to stand watch. "Hurry!"
Shuyin didn't have to be told again. He ran straight to the other section of the confinement chambers and ran down the path between the cages, searching for her.
"Shu?" When Lenne saw him running toward her, she stood and grasped the bars of her cage. "Shuyin!"
"We have to hurry. We're both up for execution if we can't get out of here." He didn't know where to find the cage controls, and he didn't have the patience to look for them. So, he placed the keycard between his teeth and jumped up to the hanging cage. Pulling himself up hand-over-hand, he reached the lock, flipped the card into it, and opened her door. "Zen's waiting at the exit."
Lenne looked down and whimpered at her distance from the floor. "I can't jump that far."
Shuyin was about to argue but remembered her fear of heights. "Get on my back." He pitched the key to the ground so he wouldn't be distracted with it.
"What?"
"Climb on my back! Hurry!"
Lenne grabbed onto his arm and neck and swung herself around to his back.
Shuyin lowered himself to the bottom of the cage once more. "Shimmy down to my ankles. Then you should be safe to drop the rest of the distance to the floor."
Lenne did as he instructed until she was hanging onto his ankles. Then she released his feet and dropped to the floor.
A second later, he touched down behind her. His fingers were killing him, but she was free. Grabbing her hand, he started to run to the ronso when he saw the ronso running toward them instead.
"Men with guns! Run!" Zen shouted.
Run? Where? Shuyin uttered a curse and looked up at the sphere monitors but held fast to Lenne's hand as he turned around and ran down the opposite corridor. Then, he took whatever other passages presented themselves.
It wasn't long before Shuyin realized they were back in the maze he previously got lost in. But being in them once before didn't help with navigation. All corridors on the lower levels still looked the same. "There's got to be a loop around here somewhere that can take us back toward an exit." Shuyin stared at the intersecting, identical hallways, not knowing which way to go. "I think Vegnagun was that way."
"Vegnagun?" Lenne asked.
"Bevelle's ultimate weapon. It really does exist, and I found it. Maybe we can use it to get out of here and stop Bevelle's army from hitting Zanarkand again."
"What? No!"
"You said if we could destroy their weapons, more people wouldn't get hurt, right? Well, if we destroy the temple and their army, then people who want to live in peace won't have to get hurt."
"I can't let you destroy this temple," she argued.
"The temple's joined forces with the Founders! They're the ones that attacked Zanarkand!"
"I know, I know. Maester Renuta grilled me about a rumor that Yevon was planning to build an army of aeons. He said Bevelle wanted no part of it. They're content with just doing sendings and white magic, so they've sided with the Founders about the creation of aeons being a sign that Yevon's magic has gone too far. Since Yevon wouldn't compromise, Maester Renuta did. He doesn't want an aeon in this temple, and he wants Yevon to stay away from it. Do you know why? He said this temple was built on top of the entrance into Spira's bridge. That's where we are. That's why a dungeon and a jail are down here."
"Men with guns come!" The ronso became impatient with their conversation when they needed to flee.
Picking up on Zen's urgency, Shuyin tugged Lenne's hand. "We have to get out of here! Vegnagun is the only thing that can help us escape and destroy the traitors!"
Lenne refused to budge. "Didn't you hear what I just said? If we're inside the ship's hull, the Heart of the Farplane is right beneath us! So there's a portal to the negative realm somewhere around here as well. If you fire something as big as Vegnagun near the Farplane, it could destroy more than the temple! It could destroy the entire city, possibly the entire world. The Farplane is what keeps us alive. I can't let you destroy this temple."
"I won't aim it at the Farplane! I'll aim it at the guards trying to kill us!"
"No more talk!" The ronso pushed them apart. "Zen distract guards. Shuyin and Lenne go another way. Guards pass. Then, Shuyin come back and go up to temple!" Without waiting for their responses, the ronso ran back in the direction they came from.
Still holding Lenne's hand, Shuyin ran in the opposite direction. Lenne struggled to keep pace with the professional athlete. Both looked over their shoulders as the sounds of footsteps echoed through the halls behind them. Coming to another intersection, Lenne and Shuyin pulled in opposite directions, but his tug was stronger, causing her to fall—a fall that would cost them precious time. Still, he helped her stand before fleeing down a different corridor with her.
"Too fast ..." Lenne was breathless, lagging behind again. "And haven't we been this way before?"
Spotting the opening that led to Vegnagun, Shuyin pulled her in with him and pressed her shoulders to the wall inside the door. "Stay here," he whispered, catching his breath. "If you stay here where it's dark, they won't see you, and you can watch for guards. If they come in here, slip out behind their backs. Don't wait for me. Find Zen and the exit."
"No!" she hissed and grasped his hands as he tried to walk away.
"We have no other way out!" he hissed back. "This is a dead-end!"
"You don't know how to operate that thing!"
"I'll find a way. I have to." His eyes pleaded with her to trust him.
"Shuyin ..."
They both knew that if he was caught, there would be nowhere else for him to run. The blitzball player jogged toward Vegnagun once more, checked over his shoulder for the summoner's position by the door, then entered the enormous robot shell. Once more, he climbed the ladder past the gun's inner workings to the control center at the head. This time, he knew what to do. Sitting down, he struck the opening chord to the song he chose last time. His previous program settings still displayed on the control panel's monitor. Vegnagun disconnected from its power source and prepared to use its laser, aiding him in automating as many controls as it could. The entire room went pitch black, and steam began to rise from the weapon's monstrous face. The song that came from it was eerie, dark, and unbalanced. Then, Vegnagun's mouth opened, its gates parted, and the inner workings of the large gun barrel came to life, gathering energy.
Lenne could stand it no longer. Running onto the platform behind him, she spread her arms. "You must stop! That's enough!"
Shuyin stopped playing, rose from his seat, and leaned over the edge. "Lenne ..."
She stared up at him, pleading for him to give up this idea and come back down when she suddenly heard something in the hall and looked over her shoulder with an anxious gasp.
Footsteps ... The same thundering footsteps of the Bevelle guards that had chased them through those endless halls were coming. Shuyin dropped all of his plans with Vegnagun and jumped over the side of the large machina weapon's head to slide down a long horn and run to her. They collided in each other's arms, and as he embraced her, he could feel her tremble with fear.
The overhead floodlights came on in the room, and the warrior monks entered, raising their rifles. They offered no warning this time.
Shuyin glared at them, fully willing to shield her from those bullets with his own body if necessary. But when he faced her with determination, she sadly averted her gaze. That look ... When she looked away ... That was when he knew. His eyes opened in recognition of her disappointment. He had no sword, and she had no aeons. They were trapped, and not even his death could save her. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she tried to smile, but Shuyin felt he had completely and utterly failed her.
The guns fired, one after another. Bullets ripped through their bodies without mercy. Lenne was the last thought on Shuyin's mind as he fell to the cold, hard floor. His watertight lungs were unable to withstand the multiple puncture wounds that stole his breath away. He felt cold ... so cold, as his heart raced irregularly, then slowed and struggled. He whispered her name and reached toward her, but she wasn't even close enough to touch. Lenne shed one final tear, but then her fingers relaxed, and she sighed her last breath. Shuyin had so many things he wanted to say to her. Instead, he was forced to watch her die. And it was his fault … all his fault. He had destroyed the only person worth saving. He hated himself. He hated everything that led to this—Bevelle, Yevon, Zanarkand ... everything. So much senseless death and destruction ... None of them deserved to live if Lenne had to die, not even himself.
The monks approached with caution as his stubborn lungs and heart fought to hold onto life. But as they tugged on his body and turned him over, his vision darkened, his limbs became numb, and his hearing faded. Everything faded into nothing.
))((
Zen crept close to the door where he heard the execution squad fire their shots. He saw the bodies of the couple being examined for confirmation of their deaths. The ronso had to stop himself from charging forward and ripping every gunman limb from limb. But when they began discussing disposal of the bodies, Zen turned and ran back in the direction he came. He ran out of the Bevelle dungeons and out of the temple before stopping to catch his breath. His heaving chest didn't hurt half as much as his grieving heart, but he removed the small sphere from his pouch and turned it over in his large hand. It wasn't much, but it was the only evidence he had of what had happened to them. The Bevelle rescue mission had failed. It was time to return home ... if there was anything left of it.
))((
Yu Yevon, his daughter, and his son-in-law approached the ronso village in Mount Gagazet, where their black dragon aeon faithfully guarded the entrance. Yevon was as surprised as his daughter to see how the boy's spirit manifested back into reality. But the normally regal, stern man now appeared pale, gaunt, and unwell. But he bore a strange look of determination all the same. After bowing before the black dragon, he gave its smooth black scales an appreciative stroke. "We are eternally thankful for your service and protection," he told Bahamut, then waited for him to step aside so he could enter and find Elder Kinan.
He listened to the elder ronso's report on what had passed since Zanarkand's refugees took shelter among the beast-folk, and thanked him multiple times for sharing this burden as friends and allies. "You have sacrificed your own safety for our sake, my friend, but I cannot ask you to continue to put yourself in harm's way. I would speak with my people and take them home now."
"Zanarkand is defenseless. Not safe," Elder Kinana disagreed.
"I've come across an ancient spell that will protect Zanarkand and its people … and all of Spira. Bevelle must be taught a lesson so that this never happens again."
"Ronso here if Zanarkand tribe needs to stay or come back again." Having made his final offer, the elder himself led the high summoner into the hidden caverns to reunite him with his refugees.
Yevon scanned each face in the huddled clusters of refugees as they gathered in one large group. They were tired, hungry, cold, and frightened. Misery was a horrible way to live. "Citizens of Zanarkand," he addressed them with gravity. "Words cannot express what we have been through in the past few days, first escaping death from the attack upon our fair city, and then, for some of you, escaping death again at the hands of Bevelle's machina in the grasslands. It would appear the Founders have instructed Bevelle to annihilate us."
He waited for the whispers and murmurs to die down a little before continuing. "Ronso scouts report that their army is camped at the base of these mountains and ready to march on Zanarkand again—to finish what they started. I beg of you, brave people of Zanarkand, come. Come outside and look upon your city as it stands now, but remember it the way it used to be. Recall every precious moment that they stole from you so that we will have the fortitude to rebuild once the threat of Bevelle is gone."
Yevon opened his arms and gestured to the cavern entrance. The refugees willingly filed out of the cavern, past the vigilant ronso, and followed their leader back along the mountain pass to gaze down at the city they once called home. It was an emotional moment for everyone, including the black dragon that watched their backs every step of the way.
The high summoner watched Bahamut as he blinked tears from his golden eyes. He knew that though he had the size and strength of ten ronso now, the Fayth's heart was still that of a small boy. Watching the dragon's sorrow only made Yevon more resolute. Turning aside, he looked to his daughter and son-in-law. "Do you still have the terms of surrender?"
"Yes, father." Yunalesca held up a scroll that they updated in the temple after she reported to him about what happened in the battle.
"Then you know what you must do." He turned his attention to Zaon. "Take her and Bahamut to the ronso village. Await my cue. When it is safe, the three of you must approach Bevelle. Do not negotiate. Hand them our terms, and they will either accept them or face the consequences."
Yunalesca nodded in tearful agreement and hugged her father. Zaon did the same, then tapped Bahamut to follow them up the steep path toward the ronso village. Yunalesca shook her head at the idea and dismissed the aeon instead. Bahamut was reluctant to fade back into the realm of magic when he was needed in the real world, and he roared in protest. But he had no choice. He could only obey.
))((
The boy's spirit returned to his tomb. Sitting up separate from his body, Bahamut looked around the empty cavern and gazed down at his ghostly arms and hands. A sense of dread washed over him at having been banished during such a vulnerable outing for the Zanarkand's last survivors. What was Yunalesca thinking? If Bevelle was camped at the foot of the mountain, preparing for another attack, those people still needed him! Leaving his body behind, forever sealed in the stone, the boy's spirit ran out of the cavern.
Time and space are different for spirits. And before Bahamut could blink, he was out of the village and down the mountain slope at Yevon's gathering. He felt a little dizzy from being able to fly like that, but he supposed he'd get used to it with practice.
With his daughter and her guardian on their way, the high summoner addressed his people once more. "I promised I would protect you to the utmost of my ability, and I shall keep that promise to you now. I must create a new aeon to defend Zanarkand," he informed them. "It will be the most powerful aeon ever created, and it will serve as a living armor for me, so that I may fight Bevelle's army alone."
A murmur went up among the crowd. One man against an entire army?
"I am willing to sacrifice myself to give you this new aeon. But I need your help!" The man looked as if he were about to become overwhelmed with emotion as he summoned his magical staff. "Those among you willing to dedicate your lives to the defense of Zanarkand show me your faith! Kneel, and send me your prayers! Sing! Sing the praises and memories of your home, family, friends! Mourn for what Bevelle has so brutally taken from you!"
Bahamut suddenly realized what the high summoner intended, and his fear for the refugees being attacked by Bevelle shifted toward their charismatic leader. "No! Stop!" he yelled at the crowd, but none heard him. "Don't listen to him! He's going to turn you into Fayth!"
One-by-one the survivors of the city knelt before the high summoner and prayed. They prayed that he would be of strong courage for his sacrifice. They prayed he would protect them, that Bevelle would be punished, and for the safety of their lost loved ones. They sang a traditional song in defiance of the crimes committed against them. And as they sang and prayed, Yevon cast his sleep spells giving their weary hearts and minds peace.
"Wake up!" The boy's spirit ran toward the people and tried to shake them back into consciousness, but his ethereal hands passed right through them. "He's not telling you the whole story! You're going to die!" He turned on Yevon. "You can't do this to them! I'm their guardian! Lady Yunalesca, please summon me back!"
"Sleep and give me your dreams, so that I may save our city," Yevon spoke in soothing, sorrow-filled tones. "Lend me your souls to save Zanarkand, and I will give you eternal life. Give me your pain, your anger, and your hate, so that I can punish Bevelle for what it has done to us." People began to slump from their kneeling positions to lying on the ground, and the high summoner began to dance with a spell so rare and powerful that few people in all of Spira knew that it existed. And even fewer were capable of performing it. As the citizens of Zanarkand slept, they became imbued with mysterious, ancient magic. Their song continued from a realm beyond reality as their living bodies were lifted in glyphs and encased in stone, sealing their fate toward one, and only one, permanently fused purpose. Then, Yevon's powerful spell lifted the stone and secured it with magical seals into the wall of the mountain behind him.
With a cry of anguish and anger, Bahamut threw himself at Yevon and grabbed his arms and the wand, attempting to disrupt the casting. But once again, he found himself passing through his target instead of interfering with it. He was helpless in this form, even more helpless than he had been alive.
With the last of Zanarkand's survivors transformed into Fayth, Yevon began a new dance. As his body rose in the air to start its own transformation, his long, black hair was loosed with waves of a magical wind, and his entire body blackened with the collective desire for revenge on Bevelle. His lavender eyes glowed brightly, and the tendrils of hair became snake-like tentacles full of venom. Finally, the rest of his body twisted and condensed into a mass of raw anger until it was no longer even remotely human. His eyes, the windows to his soul, transformed into a glowing glyph upon his new form to seal his unholy magic upon himself, forever. Then, the high summoner used his rare magic to draw upon the souls of the Fayth, using their energy to create a massive shell as hard as the mountain itself.
As Yu Yevon's new aeon form slid into his new aeon armor, the wall of the Fayth began to glow with powerful magic. Below the mountain, an eternal gloom enveloped and settled over the remains of Zanarkand. The waters blackened, the standing ruins faded, and pyreflies began to rise all around. The city was now officially dead, but a new, ultimate aeon—destruction incarnate—flew toward the mountain pass.
Bahamut stared at the wall of the Fayth in horror but felt helpless to do anything but watch the new aeon go.
))((
Within the heights of the mountain pass, Zen raced around the Bevelle army as it began its hike from the grasslands. He had been running and skirting that army all night, so he was breathless by the time he arrived in his village. But when he barged into Elder Kinan's cavern, he was surprised to see Lady Yunalesca and Lord Zaon among the other ronso elders gathered for an emergency meeting. All of the ronso glared at him for such bold rudeness, and at any other time, that kind of intrusion would have been deserving of chastisement for disrespect. But this time, he gritted his teeth in an angry snarl and offered the sphere from his pouch to his uncle. "Summoner Lenne and Shuyin are dead."
Elder Kinan was at a loss. "Dead? Zen and Shuyin free Summoner Lenne."
Zen shook his head in apology for his failure. "Shuyin captured. Tried to escape, but Bevelle temple guns ... " He paused in barely controlled anger. "Both dead!"
Lord Zaon was sharp enough to pick up on the disturbing news from a different angle. "The temple? Lenne was killed by our own temple?"
"Temple in Bevelle no longer temple of Yevon. Temple of Founders. Temple of traitors! Temple attack Zanarkand!"
Zaon exchanged a wary glance with Yunalesca. "That's how they knew about the aeons in the water gardens."
"They must have turned against my father right after he went down into the ship's hull to speak with the captain's spirit in the Via Infinito about fleeing her orbital confines set by the Founders," Yunalesca suggested.
"Did she break free?"
"I'm not sure. Perhaps. Perhaps that's why the Founders took their own initiative with Zanarkand." Yunalesca stood and began to pace. "This changes everything. It leaves us no choice but to treat the temple at Bevelle as our most dangerous and immediate enemy. The demands for surrender must be made to Maester Renuta, as well as the Bevelle governors, and the Founders." She stopped before the ronso leader. "Elder Kinan, as soon as the temple is taken back into our possession, we will require some of your strongest warriors to transport the statue of the Fayth who gave his life to guard that temple in Lenne's place. Will you help us move him?"
"I will." Elder Kinan looked down at the sphere that his nephew gave him and played it to see Shuyin rattling the bars of his cage and yelling at his guards. With a sad sigh, he walked to the back of the room, opened a chest, and carefully placed it inside. "Ronso elders of future should never forget. Ronso elders should always remember what happened to Zanarkand."
His nephew interrupted again. "Bevelle army comes. Little brother of Summoner Lenne alone now. Zen guardian of Bahamut for Shuyin and Lenne."
Yunalesca cast a glance to Zaon. He gently shook his head, advising it would be better to say nothing about the boy's fate right now.
The elder ronso nodded in agreement with Zen's apology and suggestion to save what he could of the situation. "Strong winds guide you."
Zen turned to leave when his sensitive ears picked up a distant song. It was a haunting song with incomprehensible words, not the words of an ordinary song, but of a magic spell being woven from within the mountain itself. He thought he imagined it but then noticed the astonished expressions of the other ronso, too.
"Song comes from mountain. Song comes from Zanarkand." With a palpable sense of unease, Elder Kinan pushed past his nephew to go outside. Dozens of other ronso were doing the same. Elder Kinan and Zen walked, jogged, then ran across the treacherous pathways between the mountain slopes toward the ruined city. Some ronso from the village followed to see what was happening. But they all stopped in their tracks upon seeing the new shape of the world behind them.
A titan of an aeon soared over the skies of Zanarkand with a cry of anguished victory. And about a hundred shining spirits surrounded by swarms of colorful pyreflies united in a song where the survivors once looked down on their former home. The spire that led to the ancient ruins clouded over, and the entire column and wall of half-twisted human bodies began to fill with a dense concentration of glowing, magical particles being drawn from the plane of another dimension, in which they now existed. It looked like one of the pillars between the sea of clouds and the sky in the Farplane.
Zen ran all the way back to the refugee cavern and raced through the tunnels to the refugee camp. Not a single human remained, but he was more stunned to see Bahamut's entombed body in the cavern floor beneath a magical seal. Dropping onto his knees, the ronso bowed over the magical puddle of stone. A low growl rumbled deep within the ronso's throat, but then the growl escaped as a roar of rage and frustration. Three friends and an entire city lost in one day. It was unforgivable.
Yunalesca had followed the ronso into the cavern and spoke behind him. "This boy must be laid to rest in Bevelle's temple once this ordeal is over."
The ronso spun and rose to his feet in one fluid motion. "Summoner Yunalesca murdered Bahamut!"
Yunalesca bravely stood her ground. "He volunteered to protect his people when they could not protect themselves. Now, he must help us reclaim the temple at Bevelle, or the rest of Spira could follow Zanarkand's fate."
"He was just a cub!"
"With a courageous soul and powerful magic! You have no idea how important that temple is. If we let the Founders have it, it could be the end of us all! …We need to move the boy's Fayth to Bevelle once it has surrendered, or all is lost."
Zen's pale green eyes widened in sadness and dismay at the boy's death, however peaceful he looked. While the other ronso bowed to mourn the loss of the neighboring city and its dead, Zen bowed to the lost boy and cast the only remaining Zanarkand summoner a hateful glare. Then, he drew his lance and charged out of the hidden caverns and down the mountain pass toward Bevelle's army.
Ronso returning from Yevon's final summoning of the Fayth saw where he was headed, drew their weapons, too, and followed.
))((
The army of Bevelle heard the unearthly song echoing from the mountain top and froze in curiosity and fear. What could create such a ghostly sound?
"It's a song from another world!" one of the front runners exclaimed.
"The Farplane must have been opened!"
"But, I thought they sealed it off! How could it open here?"
Zen stopped a short distance from their front line. He was only one ronso with one lance against an army of hundreds and their warships, but he shouted down at them, mourning his lost friends as if he were an army to himself. "Zanarkand is now City of the Dead! Mountain and ronso witness to their slaughter and sacrifice!"
"Bevelle never cross mountain again!" Elder Kinan roared, and his warning was echoed by dozens of ronso warriors dispersing among the peaks as the sun rose in the bleak sky.
The Fayth continued to sing behind them, and Yevon chose that moment to rise over the mountain and reveal his new aeon. The army of Bevelle, having never seen anything like it before, fled in terror. The first wave of black magic sent shock waves across the land and pulled everyone to the ground. Then it pushed them back, sending them tumbling down the mountain pass back toward the grasslands. The second wave of black magic obliterated everything in Bevelle's army, turning it into pyrefly dust. Finally, with Bevelle's army disintegrated, Yevon flew over the grasslands toward Bevelle itself.
))((
On the mountaintop of Gagazet, Lady Yunalesca turned to her husband and wept, seeing what her father had become. But after she came to terms with her grief, she squeezed the document in her fist and lifted her eyes to Zaon. Then, summoning her staff, she drew some magical glyphs in the snow. "Bahamut, it's time."
The boy was drawn away from the singing Fayth and hurled back into reality. As pyreflies solidified around his soul, shaping his massive dragon form once more, he landed with ground-shaking force.
The summoner tearfully acknowledged him and led the way down the slopes toward Bevelle for the final showdown.
