Surprise! This is the last chapter! I didn't mean to rush things too much, but I was very excited to reveal the conclusion to this story. I hope that this answers the questions people have had. The title of this 24th and final chapter comes from a film I watched with my sister over the summer - one of the saddest movies I've ever seen, but also a beautiful one.

Acknowledgements are at the bottom of the page. For the last time, enjoy this final chapter of Escape from Thunderhead!

LUCAS' POV

I screamed in terror as I tried to keep my balance. This wasn't an easy task, though; the ground was shaking in addition to falling.

"What's going on?" Kai all but yelled.

"I think this mountain's sinking back into the ocean" Otto replied, clearly trying to sound calm, yet failing miserably in the effort.

"Fuck!" the Raichu shouted. "Everybody, stay low to the ground!"

I did as I was told, moving into a spread-eagle position on the rocks. I kept my body as "low" as I could, simply because it was less likely I'd be bounced around this way.

"Why is it sinking?" I wondered aloud. "This wasn't supposed to happen!"

Sionne rolled her eyes. "Buddy, a lot of things weren't supposed to happen. That didn't stop them from occurring, though."

I couldn't argue with her there.

Our descent continued for an agonizing length of time. I could feel the air getting warmer as we approached sea level.

"Lucas, look at Janelle!" Sionne shouted eventually.

I'd been too focused on planking on the stone to pay attention to anyone else, but I looked up for a brief moment. Instantly, I regretted it.

The other Litleo was lying on the ground too, but it didn't seem to be by choice in her case. Her ankle was no longer swollen, which gave me a bit of hope at first. Maybe the battle had cured her, as implausible as that seemed.

But based on how motionless Janelle was, it did not seem that way. It seemed as though I'd been kidding myself about the extent of her injuries, and for the first time in a while I felt genuinely angry with Janelle Wilson.

"Why didn't she tell us that she was doing a lot worse?" I asked. "She should have stayed on the yacht!"

"Lucas, don't blame the victim," Otto told me. "It's never the right thing to do."

"I'm not blaming the victim here" I responded. "I'm merely wondering why she would deceive us like that. Why did she insist on fighting, even though she wasn't in any shape to do so?"

"None of that matters now" Sionne replied. "If she is to have any hope of survival, we need to get her to the hospital right away. Did you see her ankle?"

I grimaced as I pictured how nasty and swollen it had been. "I did. It looked bad."

"Well, it's worse now. Literally her whole leg was bleeding out when the battle ended, and all this motion can't have helped either."

No. It can't be.

And yet…it was true. It had to be; why would Sionne lie about something like this?

I didn't have time to respond, though, because it was at that very moment that the mountain sank into the ocean, leaving us floating in the frigid sea. Fortunately, the yacht wasn't very far away.

It was then that I saw it: A giant Pyroar carcass, bloodied and bruised. With all the air trapped in its chest, it floated on the surface with ease, though that wouldn't serve to keep it alive.

"Is that…" I began.

Sionne nodded. "I'm afraid that's Leopold. Or rather, it was once Leopold. He's gone; he was too heavily injured during the battle with Roy. They finished each other off."

In the midst of everything, I was too numb to fully process what it meant for the Village Elder to be dead. But I knew there was a saying in chess: "Trade when ahead, not when behind." According to that analogy, we'd had a material advantage over Roy's side, but that didn't make it okay to have lost Leopold.

But I couldn't care about that right now. I had to focus on getting everyone over to the yacht, including Zeraora, who was still semiconscious.

Well, we eventually got everyone to the ladder, where carrying Janelle and Zeraora up was a team effort. (We left Leopold's body in the sea; as far as I know, it's still there today.)

It was only once we'd all hit the deck that Otto got a chance to look at Janelle's bad ankle. This would be done without much fuss, because she appeared to be unconscious, but that wouldn't make it any easier emotionally.

It didn't take long to realize which way it seemed to be trending. With every second that passed, the Oshawott's face grew less and less hopeful. He didn't take any time to pray to Arceus, either; he was wholly focused on the situation at hand.

Finally, Otto looked up at me, a morose look on his face. His eyes were wide with sorrow, not to mention wet with tears.

Slowly, he shook his head.

That was when everything hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm not ashamed to admit that I fell to my knees and wept.

This was all a bad dream; it had to be, right? Maybe I'd wake up soon and find that I was back in Forrest County and had imagined my second trip to the Pokemon world. At least then Janelle would still live.

I cried. I cried until my eyes had no tears left to give, but no amount of weeping would change the situation. No amount of emotion I might show would have any effect on the cold reality.

I felt someone (probably Sionne) massaging my back. While this was a kind gesture, to be sure, it didn't make me feel too much better.

"We should have stopped her" I said, echoing a sentiment I'd expressed earlier. "Why didn't we?"

"It's not your fault, Lucas. It's my father's" Sionne replied.

"Yeah, but we could have tried harder. If we'd just put a little more effort into it, then she'd still be alive! I wouldn't be alone!"

Kai frowned at me. "You're not alone even now, Lucas. You still have us. Unless you mean…".

I knew then that I had no reason not to be honest with them. Now that Janelle was dead, it wouldn't do her any harm to let the others know the truth. (Which, let's be honest, they probably already suspected.)

"Yes," I told them. "We kissed once or twice. And we were closer than you guys knew. The day we were on that little island, when we walked on that black sand beach? I promised Janelle that I'd never let her go again. And…".

"You didn't break the promise" Otto said, trying to reassure me. "You're not the one who took her life. You stayed with her until the very end."

"You're just telling me that to make me feel better!" I growled, baring my fangs. "If you only walked a mile in my shoes, then you'd see it differently!"

The others looked warily at one another, not saying a word. Eventually, they all turned to me, and Sionne spoke.

"Look, Lucas. We need to get Zeraora to a hospital on the mainland, and keep it alive until we're there. The Mythical Cat is very weak, so we'd better get going now."

I glanced up at Sionne, and something about her looked…well, not necessarily more mature. But there was a quality about her that seemed more ominous, more battle-hardened. Since we'd just been through a battle, I guess that's not too surprising.

"Okay" I said. "As long as I don't have to be the one driving. Because let's be honest, I don't have the slightest clue on how to do this."

"I'll drive the boat," Otto promised. "I don't need to sleep. Just like…you know, just like Leopold."

A lump rose in my throat as I tried to accept that the Village Elder would never return to Chilly Waters. When we arrived back at that village on the outskirts of Fula City, we would have to tell the residents exactly what had happened on Thunderhead Mountain.

And it would be painful, not least because Leopold's successor might be Arkoon. The mere thought made me want to vomit.

After we set course for the mainland of Sinnoh, it took us over a day to reach our goal.

At least the sea was far more cooperative now. We did not encounter any storms, though the air was still thick with fog. But Otto claimed that the radar enabled him to see all that was important to avoid, and I had to trust the only Water-type on the ship.

As we sailed westward, I spent a considerable amount of time on the deck, looking out at the sea. Somewhere, amidst all the flotsam and jetsam, there was the body of one Leopold Pyroar, who had given so much (including his life!) for both his village and the world.

Moreover, regardless of what Otto said, I couldn't help but feel as though I'd broken the promise I'd made to Janelle. And that led me right into another problem.

It was going to be hard enough to explain Leopold's death to the villagers of Chilly Waters. But if I ever returned to Earth, there was another demise I would need to explain. At a minimum, it would require me to use all the money I had (and lots of money I didn't have) to hire the best legal team in the Southern United States.

They are going to make an example of me. They're going to wave me around and claim I belong in the loony bin. Well, I'll show them that they're wrong.

Ferguson: So you anticipated facing legal challenges upon your escape from Thunderhead Mountain?

Defendant: Of course.

Ferguson: And yet, you still came back to Earth. Why is that?

Defendant: Because I owed the world the truth. So many people live in alternate realities here, and I didn't want to contribute to that problem.

Ferguson: But you could argue that you did exactly this by claiming you'd been to the world of Pokemon.

Defendant: You can say that as many times as you want, Darren. I am not a liar.

Occasionally, I would check in on Zeraora. As a matter of fact, this was a ritual the three of us traded every so often, just to make sure the Mythical Cat was still breathing. Given how still it had been on the mountain, I wouldn't have been surprised to see Zeraora die as well.

I gulped every time I entered the room. To see Zeraora sleeping so fitfully, tossing and turning even though its body had so little energy…it reminded me of someone else, someone I'd left behind on Thunderhead Mountain.

Wherever her soul was now, if souls even existed, I hoped she could forgive me. That she could understand where I'd been coming from when I attacked Roy so viciously. We'd all had the same goal, after all.

Speaking of Janelle, her body lay on the deck, and I tried not to look at it. Not only was I afraid of how suspicious it would look to the authorities in mainland Sinnoh, but there was also the minor matter of what it represented.

A life cut short. Even if it had been to save the world, had it truly been worth it for Janelle when she wouldn't be able to see the fruits of her labor?

This was something I'd never know. I'd never be able to ask her how she felt about it, because she was beyond the veil, as it were.

When we finally arrived at the nearest port city, I was still on the deck, having been there most of the night. By now it was early morning, and I had barely slept.

Ferguson: What happened when you reached the coast of Sinnoh? Did the authorities question you?

Defendant: No.

Ferguson: What do you mean, no?

Defendant: I mean that they didn't question me, of course. I had thought they might do that, but when they saw Zeraora in our boat, anything we might have done wrong became irrelevant to them. And I don't think we did anything wrong.

Ferguson: Do you still think that, Lucas, after all this testimony?

Defendant: I have no reason not to maintain my innocence. We've come this far.

Ferguson: Very well. What happened to Zeraora upon your arrival?

Defendant: They were whisked away to the nearest hospital, where they were treated for exposure and dehydration. The doctors expressed their shock at how much the Mythical Cat had been through.

Ferguson: How about Janelle?

Defendant: We gave her as dignified a funeral as we could. Once we got back to Chilly Waters, we cremated her. Her ashes were spread in the Wind Festival's fairgrounds.

Ferguson: Okay. An odd choice of a place to spread the ashes. But it doesn't matter anymore. Let's cut to the chase.

JULY 2018

It was getting dark outside the courtroom. Judging by the disappearance of the sun behind the nearest buildings, and the fact that the lights had been turned on above the grand jury booth, nightfall would be coming soon.

The "good part" Darren Ferguson had been alluding to this whole time? Well, we'd arrived at it, for better or for worse. The man smiled from ear to ear as he saw his chance to lock me up for a long time.

"Do you understand why you are here, Lucas?" he asked.

I nodded. "Affirmative, Darren."

Ferguson looked a bit peeved at my choice of excessively formal language, but he didn't comment any further on it. Instead, he replied with, "Please tell me why you are here."

With a deep sigh, I looked up at the ceiling. Unlike most of the buildings in Forrest County, the courthouse was quite attractive on the interior. An intricate design had been carved into the wall, one I could barely begin to place.

I nearly collapsed right then and there. It wasn't just emotionally exhausting to be recounting the last year of my life in front of the grand jury; it was physically draining to stand up straight for this long. But as Ferguson had repeatedly promised me, we were almost there.

"Well, Lucas? Why are you here?"

I didn't make eye contact with the prosecutor as I responded softly.

"I have been accused of the murder of Janelle Wilson. If this grand jury indicts me, I will be charged with her disappearance."

"That is correct, Lucas Teller," Ferguson responded with a slight smile. "Give us one good reason why this grand jury shouldn't indict you."

"Because it didn't happen," I said. I didn't have the strength anymore to respond defiantly, to put up even a facade of bravado. Instead I spoke with the weariness of someone who just wants to go home.

Ferguson raised an eyebrow. "It didn't happen? Lucas, even if you're innocent, Janelle Wilson is still dead. And there's no way to bring back the dead."

"I'm well aware of that. I'm merely asserting that I didn't kill her. Because I didn't."

Ferguson paused again as he jotted a few things down. Eventually, he turned back to me and asked the following question:

"How do you see yourself, Lucas?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well? What do you think the media narrative is going to be about this case? Are they going to see you as a tragic victim who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or are they going to view you as a delusional young man who got some girl killed?"

"I know which interpretation I prefer," I replied simply.

"I'm not asking which interpretation you prefer," Ferguson responded. "I'm merely wondering what you think people will think of you."

"Well, that's obvious. There's no profit in saying I'm the victim. The so-called "murder" of Janelle Wilson is probably the most interesting thing that's happened in Forrest County since the Confederacy."

That got a few chuckles out of the grand jury, which were immediately shot down by Ferguson. "This isn't funny" were the prosecutor's exact words.

"Whatever" I muttered. "I just want this day to end."

"And it will be over soon, Lucas," Ferguson promised me. "Soon, you'll be able to head home and put this all behind you. That is, until your trial."

Until your trial.

I didn't want to entertain the thought of having to stand trial after all this. It was just too much. The last year, and the last day in particular, had pushed me to my limits; I did not know how much more I had to give.

I can't stand trial here. I just can't.

"What if I said I don't believe you?" I asked.

Ferguson raised both his eyebrows. "What is there to not believe?"

"I don't believe there's a reason to charge me with a crime. I've told you this repeatedly over the course of the day. You have chosen to ignore me every single time."

"I'm afraid not, Lucas," Ferguson responded.

That did it. I tipped forward, grabbing the podium with both hands to arrest my fall. I then looked back up at the prosecutor and the grand jury. I was well and truly at their mercy.

"Would you please go easy on me?" I all but whined. "I've got a life to go back to. I had to do this whole year of school with a tutor, and it wasn't the same. I want to go to college."

Ferguson shook his head. "I'm afraid that no college would be willing to deal with the legal liability. Even if you're ultimately cleared of all charges, it would be a source of notoriety."

"I'm well aware of that," I told him tearfully. "But just give me a chance! I'm not going to talk about the Pokemon world anymore, I promise! I'll sign an NDA if you need me to!"

"A non-disclosure agreement would not do any good, since the whole world knows your story by now."

"Whatever you want! Just, please let me go. Haven't I suffered enough already?"

There was a long, heavily awkward silence in the courtroom. During this time, I dared to look up at the grand jury. I don't know what I'd been expecting to see, but I was pleasantly surprised.

The grand jurors, who had put their notepads down a couple hours ago, were now scribbling furiously. I couldn't place their facial expressions, but I had to imagine that someone there felt sorry for me.

"Your Honor, Prosecutor Darren Ferguson?" a bespectacled woman asked.

Ferguson swiveled around to face the speaker. "Yes?"

"I really think we should let him walk. He's only eighteen-".

"- and eighteen, even younger than that, is still old enough to be tried as an adult for murder. That's in accordance with county, state, and federal law. That doesn't change a thing."

"But if he's telling the truth - and he's under oath - he's had more than enough tragedy already. Would it not be a travesty to throw away Lucas Teller's life just to appease the prison-industrial complex?"

"I've got a job to do," Ferguson snapped. "But I suppose that the grand jurors must be allowed to deliberate amongst themselves. That is also the law of Forrest County."

I gripped the podium in a bear hug. To be let off after all that had happened would be more than a relief; it would be a miracle. It wouldn't shock me if Arceus Himself were smiling down on me that night in the courtroom, though my guardian angel sure could have acted sooner.

The grand jurors began talking in hushed whispers, which I absolutely could not make out from this vantage point. They spoke quickly, but I still had ample time to wonder what conclusion they were going to come to.

The deliberation went on for what felt like hours as the summer sky outside deepened to navy. I would occasionally look up from the podium, hoping that my "Bambi Eyes" were working their magic.

Finally, it was over. But I wouldn't allow myself to take a deep breath; my forehead felt scorchingly hot, and my heart pounded like I was doing a 100-meter dash.

"What is the decision?" Ferguson asked the grand jury at large. "Are you going to indict Lucas Teller or not?"

I'm not going to lie; I crossed my fingers and said a small prayer to Arceus that maybe, just maybe, one thing could go right after such a disastrous day. That this story could maybe have a happy ending; okay, happy is a stretch, but I just wanted closure. Was that too much to ask?

"We aren't going to" the bespectacled woman from earlier replied. "We just think there isn't enough evidence that this young man murdered Janelle Wilson. He wasn't responsible for her disappearance either - he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

My knees buckled, and I was once again forced to catch myself on the stand. Standing back up, I waited for the feeling of relief to arrive, the sense of satisfaction that I'd managed to escape the worst possible fate.

But it didn't come. And it still didn't.

Instead, I simply stood there for who knows how long, trying not to weep. I didn't want to appear ungrateful to those who had decided to let me walk, but I also couldn't feel happy when I knew that the media would spin my case every which way.

Fox News would, of course, be ruthless. Their coverage of me would be deeply defamatory, which is what I'd come to expect from them. And people would probably come up with their own verdict - not guilty, but not exactly innocent either.

But no grief Fox & Friends could give me would be worse than the grief I already felt.

After the grand jury decided against indicting me, I was driven back home in the police car. The driver didn't speak to me, and honestly, I was okay with that. I had no desire for any conversation.

Once back at my house, I walked up to the front door with trepidation. Even since the last time I'd left it, so much had changed, and yet so much was the same too.

I rang the doorbell, and my mother let me in. She looked bewildered at first. "I thought you were an undocumented migrant coming through the southern border" she admitted.

I frowned. "Mom, you know I love you, but you've got to think more rationally sometimes."

"Get real, Lucas. The invasion from the southern border - that's just the truth. It's what's happening. What happened in the courtroom, though?"

"Well, they didn't indict me. I guess that's good."

"You're not going to be brought to trial?" my mother replied.

I nodded. "That's what not indicted means, isn't it?"

"I guess so. Though I still don't know why you decided to give them such a cockamamie story. Quite frankly, you're lucky to be a free man after saying that."

"Oh, shut up" I shot back at her. "I've been through enough already. So please, don't make my new life any harder than it has to be."

I pushed past my mother and into the living room, where my father was sitting on the couch watching - you guessed it - Fox & Friends. His gaze did not waver from the TV screen, but he occasionally nodded in approval as the anchor went into a tirade against illegal aliens.

"Hey, Dad," I said awkwardly.

My father didn't respond at first until I walked right in front of him, blocking his view of the screen.

"Come on, Lucas, you're ruining my show!" he complained.

"I don't care about that," I muttered. "All Fox does is poison your mind. So please - don't choose the network over your own son. Your only child."

My dad narrowed his eyes. "Tell me why I should care."

Those words hurt me more than I can say, but I was quick on the draw. "Because I've been cleared of all charges. They're not going to charge me with Janelle's murder."

"That's good, I guess," my dad said blankly.

Under most circumstances, I would have wanted more from him - an assurance, perhaps, that he still loved me. But the bar had been set so low that I'd take what I could get.

"Well", I mumbled, "I think I'll get ready for bed now. It's getting late, isn't it?"

My dad did not respond, instead pumping his fist at some of the red meat the Fox anchor was throwing out. I took that as my cue to leave.

Considering that I hadn't eaten all day, I wasn't nearly as hungry as I expected to be. Come morning, I would probably eat like a Rapidash, but right now, I was more than happy to hit the hay.

Sleep, however, was elusive.

I lay awake, looking up at the ceiling. There were no stars in the sky no matter how dark it got here. It was nothing like the sky above Chilly Waters. It was the purest form of darkness.

Each time I closed my eyes, I saw a different world. I think you know what world I'm talking about.

A world full of creatures that Earthlings might consider magical. A world full of wonder and adventure, governed by a series of Legendary and Mythical beings. A world where I'd made friends, including Sionne, Kai, Otto, and the late Village Elder Leopold.

I'd ended up there by what seemed like pure chance last year. When I'd returned to Earth, I hadn't believed that I'd ever see it again - and yet, lightning had struck twice.

The last ten months had been a living hell for me. Imagine going through such grief, mourning the loss of the person you care about perhaps more than any other, while most of the world believes you to have murdered that person. And you've got no support whatsoever - you have to find your own way.

That was the type of resolve I needed more than anything now.

Although I hadn't been allowed to attend my senior year of high school with my peers, I had still managed to pass the GED exam. Legally speaking, I now had a degree, so at least I had that going for me.

Far more problematic was the question of what I would do with that degree. The odds of me getting a job out of high school, even if the legal view was that I had done nothing wrong, seemed very remote. Who wanted to risk the legal liability?

More than likely, I'd remain at home for some time. Perhaps I'd manage to find odd jobs around the neighborhood, laboring in tasks that would pad my resumé, even if they didn't make me much dough. Maybe then, someone would trust me.

Until then, I had a lot of problems to work through. To be clear, some of them (like my lack of a social life) had existed before I'd been spirited away to the Pokemon world. Others had sprouted out of this series of unfortunate events.

I had lost my parents. It wasn't that they had died - if anything, it might have been preferable for them to be gone from this Earth. No, what was far worse was that I'd lost whatever trust they had in me. I was well and truly alone now.

The summer wore on, and the invectives against me on Fox News became increasingly intense. Much like I had suspected, they had come up with their own assessment of the situation, and it wasn't one that favored me. I would often wake up early and head downstairs to find that my parents had left the TV on, while the anchors continued slamming me for just about anything they could think of.

There were days when I didn't know if I'd be able to continue. Exactly what "not continuing" meant, I wasn't sure, but it didn't sound pretty. It wasn't an option I was willing to pursue…not yet, anyway.

Did I have a disorder of some kind? Almost certainly, though I never got it diagnosed. On more than one occasion, I considered contacting a therapist about it, but I had no money of my own to pay for one. My parents certainly wouldn't fund any counseling for me, not that I'd grown to expect anything more.

It all looked pretty bleak. Not just my future prospects in life, but it also became harder and harder to get out of bed every morning. Very often, I'd lie beneath the covers for an hour or more after waking, trying to convince myself that it was worth it.

When I did get up, I would sometimes go for long drives in the countryside. My car, for some reason, had not been confiscated upon my arrest. I wasn't going to complain, though, because it gave me something to do besides mope around about my fate.

As the air became brisker, I found more energy to get up early. I would walk out to the car as the sun rose and drive in its direction. I did not care about the eyestrain involved, because who knew how long I'd need these eyes anyway? It might not be much longer.

On one occasion, I drove by a ditch that looked rather familiar. I knew my way around Forrest County well enough to know that it was the same place. The same ditch that had been responsible for so much joy, and yet so much disappointment at the same time.

If I were to go back right now, would it be worth it?

I thought about this sometimes, and the question kept me up at night more often than I'm proud to admit. Indeed, it still keeps me up even now.

I go back to the ditch many days, and I like to imagine that if I wait long enough, the outline of a Litleo will materialize into view. She'll wave at me, and I'll wave back. And we might talk for a while about one thing or another.

Of course, I'm not delusional. I know that isn't going to happen. Even if I were to enter the ditch, even if it'll still take me back to another world, there's no portal that can take me to the other side in a different way.

But I stand there for several minutes, and I imagine that other people will be there. Sionne, for one; maybe Otto and Kai. Arkoon too, though I'm not sure I'd be eager to see him even now.

I stand at the ditch, sometimes for over an hour, and I cry. I cry at the knowledge that I lost the woman I can now admit I loved, that I lost the possibility of more years with her, potentially decades. Who knew that the girl I met on Tinder at age 17 would become someone who died for all of us?

When I can no longer bear all the pain, I get back in my car and drive away. I'll be back sometime soon, I promise myself, and invariably, I keep that promise.

I don't know what happens after you die.

Maybe it's just like before you were born. Your brain waves stop, and you'll never even realize you're dead. If that's the fate that awaits all of us, then I won't get to fall to my knees and beg Janelle for forgiveness.

In that case, it's up to me to serve as a proxy for Janelle's willingness to clear me of all charges. It won't be easy, but few things worth doing are.

Or maybe we aren't just meat computers after all. Maybe we do have souls that exist apart from our physical bodies. Maybe I will meet Janelle again one day, somewhere out there in the ether. And that fantasy I ponder by the ditch will come true.

We'll wave at each other, and she'll welcome me through the pearly gates. We'll reminisce about the adventures we had together, and maybe talk about what adventures await us in the hereafter. But if we're more than our brains, one thing is certain:

We will have much to talk about.

And that's the end. I was initially going to have a somewhat happier ending, but I prefer bittersweet finales - I'll admit that much.

I would like to thank some people. First of all, everyone who has favorited, followed, or even clicked on a chapter of this tale. Every little bit of support has helped give me the push to finish this thing.

I would also like to thank my family, for understanding my niche interest and being supportive of it. Without them, I wouldn't be the man I am now.

Finally, I would like to thank the FFN admins for breaking their radio silence on Twitter last week. Without them, I would not have finished this story; there were days I did not know if I could do it. So thank you.

As to what comes next for me, I do have another story idea. It won't be linked to this one, but it will be in the fandom we all love, known as Pokémon. Depending on how quickly I can get it outlined, it will be out soon. Hopefully. And if you ever want to contact me off this site, look at my username and let my Discord tag come to you.

Until next time, stay safe, stay healthy, and keep on being creative!

Sincerely, LucastheLion2967!