Chapter 9: People are waiting in line (and i'm the one making them wait!)

Lower Wind Month, 11th-12th Day, 600 AGG

Ithit Veejanu was leading the remaining demihumans back to the Vahasi Republic. To say he was unexcited would be a massive understatement.

Well, he supposed things could have been far, far worse. The flaming angel floating ominously above them was a constant reminder of that.

"Rajan Veejanu," one of his clansmen, Belsnai, approached him from the side. "The less… woodland inclined of our fighters cannot keep up with this pace."

"We were told to leave with all due haste," Ithit shot down his request. "The angel's temperament was not one of mercy. We are already fortunate in surviving that damned Pallavi's expedition, and I would not have us test the grace of Isholranth any more than necessary."

"They will not be happy," Belsnai warned him before falling back, presumably to inform the beastmen lagging behind of his decision.

"They do not have a choice," Ithit muttered under his breath. A few bruises under his armor still ached; he hadn't had enough mana to completely heal himself while covering his allies from the suppressive fire of that cursed archer and his comrades.

'A pity that the teleporters Pallavi brought in had left right after warping her onto the walls,' he wouldn't be surprised if the angel was hoping some of them would die of exhaustion on their accelerated march back home.

Once again, he cursed his lack of influence on the Council. He had wanted to avoid the entire misbegotten raid, but there was no way he could afford to gainsay any of his senior Viziers, especially since he wasn't even a demihuman Lord.

Ithit felt the urge to break something. His clan hadn't produced a Lord for generations now, forcing him to bear the mantle of leadership solely due to his magical prowess despite coming from a branch bloodline. It wasn't that critical of an issue when dealing with his clan's internal affairs, but when it came to national politics…

He was sorely aware of just how much he was lacking. His clan was only tolerated for their consistency in raising skilled spellcasters for the Archives.

It was just as well. The path of a commander was not one he wished to tread, though the gods saw fit to disagree by forcing him to lead the beastmen army in lieu of the dead Vadh matriarch.

"Rajan," another one of his clan's druids spoke up. "It grows dark, and our warriors grow weary. We need to set up camp for the night."

"Is this acceptable?" Ithit shouted at the fearsome angel that hung above them like an executioner's sword. The cursed thing had impressive senses, better than most he knew, but it was better to be sure rather than dead.

The spindly four-winged angel slowly descended and the entire army came to a slow and chaotic halt, many beastmen bumping into each other as commanders tried to keep order from breaking down.

The angel turned its head—if one could call a roaring sphere of fire a head—towards Ithit and just… floated there.

He assumed that meant yes.

"You," he pointed at someone who seemed to be the commander of a group of feline Zoastia. "Spread the news that we'll be stopping here for the night."

"Asshole, you think you can tell me what to do?" the leopard Zoastia snarled. "Just wait until we reach Mahajarat. The Council will have your head for this failure."

Ithit rolled his eyes behind his wyvern-skull helm. As a direwolf beastman, he never got on well with feline demihumans.

"I was not the one in charge of this expedition," he cooly responded. "And even if I was, I see no reason for us to march ourselves to exhaustion because your pitiful throat was incapable of issuing a proper command."

"Hmph, bark all you like. We all know that you're done for," the leopard-man turned away from him and roared. "『We're camping here!』"

Unlike before, the army fluidly unpacked as his command was echoed by fellow commanders and Lords, rangers scouting out optimal sites for encampments in addition to nearby water and food sources as everyone else mostly stayed out of their way and stuck to building said encampments while staying alert for any monsters.

'It's good that we managed to make it all the way to the forests,' Ithit thought to himself and popped one of the last few Goodberry he had prepared into his mouth as he casted『Warp Wood』and 『Fungal Supergrowth』, rapidly creating shelters from the bounty of the forest itself. 'To camp in the open would be to invite trouble.'

With might of magic and arms, they managed to finish setting up camp in just over an hour. A deep exhale seemed to pass over the entire army as the day's events weighed upon them. Above the somber fires of the makeshift barracks, the harsh flames of the four-winged angel burned.

Ithit sighed as he took off his skull-helm in the privacy of his mycelium-wood shed after casting a 『Summon Nature's Ally 2nd』. The summoned Dire Bat flew outside, keeping watch under the cover of trees.

The Direwolf Orthrous pulled out his Lesser Vayul's Whisper and activated the item, requesting a communication line to the High Vizier.

『Varush Aanyaj, authorization sequence }$: -*(#!/-?-]_+}/- !&. Identification and authorization?』

『Ithit Veejanu, authorization sequence Shujyashi-Ekaut-Dyau-Theen.』

『What is it?』 If only the High Vizier was as competent as they were blunt, then this whole affair with the human kingdom would have already been resolved. 『What trouble has Pallavi brought upon us now?』

'You don't even know the half of it,' Ithit bitterly thought to himself. 『She's dead. Pallavi is dead.』

『... You're not lying.』Varush stated in a way that asked for clarification.

『A powerful—I know not how else to describe it—being with the likeness of the humans' angels showed up in the middle of the battle. And you know how Pallavi is. Or was.』

『I could imagine.』The High Vizier groaned in frustration. 『She didn't challenge them to a… you know?』

『She did.』If nothing else, the satisfaction he got from others suffering a small portion of what he had been through was an almost acceptable consolation prize.

『Gods. Are the Kshatra's of Clan Vadh with you?』

『No, they were told to stay behind by their new Rajan. I imagine a particularly messy Council session will be called in the near future.』

『Isholranth guide us…』Varush mumbled over the 『Message』. 『This… being. What were they like?』

『It's difficult to say.』Ithit admitted. 『I was lucky enough to avoid interacting directly with them, but seeing as they came to the aid of the humans, I would think that they don't have a very positive view of the Republic.』

『Our people farm and eat their kind, Vizier Veejanu.』Varush replied in a tired voice. 『Small wonder that the more brutal aspects of our culture would eventually cause such an enemy to appear. What of their combat capabilities?』

『They're capable of summoning at least several hundred of angels, many of which that I doubt any of us have seen, and even Pallavi's sword was incapable of leaving so much as a scratch.』

『... That is…』Even the High Vizier was at a loss for words.

『Ridiculous.』Ithit grimly finished for him. 『I would suggest that we immediately beg for mercy at the feet of the human kingdom, but I doubt the rest of the Council would agree so easily.』

『Indeed. A single incident will not be enough to dissuade them.』

'But you can, you damned fool!' Ithit seethed. Despite his unparalleled martial prowess and leadership skills, the High Vizier bordered on incompetent when it came to national politics. If only he had been able to reign in the Viziers before they decided to deploy Vadh then this whole disaster would have never occurred.

He didn't say that though. Shifting blame on others, and especially his superior, wasn't a winning strategy at the moment. 『There is one option we have though.』

『And that is?』

『We leverage our new Seventh-generation Sword Saint as soon as we can. Judging from their actions and behavior, it would not be a stretch to say they wish for an end to this war.』

『... You're playing a dangerous game, Vizier Veejanu.』Varush warned.『We live and die at the whims of beings like this.』

『Perhaps. This world was never 'safe' to begin with.』

『True. So we get them to agree to an armistice. What next?』

'How can you be this much of a fool?' Ithit grumbled in his mind. 'Your position is quite literally only protected by your personal strength.'『It's clear our colleagues on the Council would be inclined to, ah, disagree. In the face of such might, it is for the good of the nation that we take every step we can to ensure a smooth surrender, no?』

『You're not suggesting…』

『Hypothetically, if the other Viziers were to put the Republic at risk because they were conveniently unaware of the angel's strength, then would it not be our duty to prevent them from bringing destruction upon our nation?』

『That is ridiculous. You—This suggestion is borderline treason.』

『It was a mere hypothetical, High Vizier.』A knock sounded from the wall of his makeshift hut.『For the sake of all of us, I hope you don't wait until it's too late. I must go now.』

He cut off the call and quickly put the Lesser Vayul's Whisper away. "Enter."

Now the fate of the Vahasi Republic rested in the hands of High Vizier Varush, someone who was wholly unqualified for their position.

How frightening. Though if this situation allowed for the removal of the Viziers that actively suppressed him and his own all while increasing his own standing within the Council…

Ithit's smile was a toothy one. Perhaps this outcome was not so terrible after all.

"So how does it taste?" Yuriko leaned over the masterwork table, her chair tilting forward as she did so. "Personally, I think it's kinda heavy. And the juice thingy tastes really weird."

Draudillon nonchalantly shrugged as she took another bite of some unidentifiable meat. Conjuring an entire feast complete with a table, chairs, and utensils was hardly the most ridiculous thing she'd seen Yuriko do.

'When did I start getting used to this?' she wondered to herself, washing down the aftertaste of the food with the 'weird juice thingy' before wiping her mouth with a conjured napkin. "It tastes rather good in my opinion."

"Yeah? Just wait until you eat it over and over and over again," Yuriko ranted with a cute—no, no, a normal, yes normal—frown on her face. "『Heroes' Feast』conjures the exact same stuff each time. There's like, zero variety!"

"Hardly a thing to complain about. Magically created food usually tastes awful—woah," a rush of warmth suddenly permeated her body and mind. She felt… unshakeable was the best to describe it. As if someone was reassuring her that everything would be alright. "What was that?"

"Oh, the buffs kicked in," Yuriko unenthusiastically chewed on another chunk of the ambrosial meat. "You have to eat for a while for them to activate."

"Why didn't we invite the mayor as well then? Wouldn't it be more efficient to apply these effects to as many people as possible?"

"A-Ack," Yuriko coughed as she choked on her food. "I… forgot! Y-Yeah, that's right! I forgot!"

'Did she just want to spend time with me? No way. Don't get full of yourself.'

"Hm. You should try to use your mana more efficiently."

"R-Right…"

"Speaking of which, where did he go?" Draudillon got up from the table along with Yuriko, the conjured materials all popping out of existence as soon as they did so. "I haven't seen him since last evening."

"He said he was going to check on some of the surrounding farmlands after I asked where I could set up a table," Yuriko opened the door for her. "Oh! And he said that your Uncle wanted to talk with you."

"I see… That's to be expected, I suppose," she did up and flew all the way east without telling anyone after all. Hopefully, Martin didn't and wouldn't ever find out. Draudillon groaned inside, thinking of all the lecturing she was certain to receive when they returned from this escapade.

'Who am I kidding? He probably knew the moment people found out I wasn't in the castle.'

"Um, and if it's okay," Yuriko began fidgeting, index fingers pointed and pressed against each other. "Could I continue doing the whole resurrection thing?"

"I'm hardly going to stop you," Draudillon smiled. "I think it's a good thing you're doing, it's just—" she carefully thought over her next words. "—maybe I could come with you and watch for a bit? If that's okay?"

"But your Uncle," Yuriko frowned. "I don't want to make things harder between you guys…"

"You could have one of your summons bring him over to where we'll be," Draudillon suggested. "Whatever he has to say, he can say it to the both of us."

"Okay," Yuriko nodded and looked at her cautiously. "So I have them all at this fountain, and um…"

"I won't get angry," Draudillon wryly smiled. "Go on."

"I have the uhhh, I think they called themselves Kshatra's of Clan Vadh? The jerks from yesterday," Yuriko nodded to herself. "So I have them all sorta tied up at this same place too. Since that's where I put the most summons, and I didn't want them to cause any trou—"

"Yuriko," saying her real name filled Draudillon with the oddest warm and fuzzy feeling. "It's fine. I know you have them under control."

"Right, just didn't want there to be any surprises, y'know?" the angel sheepishly laughed as she stretched her arms out towards Draudillon. "So, uh, hop on?"

She 'hopped on' without further ado and the two flew the short distance to a plaza somewhere in the center of the city.

'Flying like this is nice,' without an immediate incursion to worry about, Draudillon could fully enjoy the sensations of being untethered to the earth: from the wind whipping through her hair to the warmth of the arms that bore her. Although, some things were nicer than others.

As they neared their destination, she could make out a large crowd corralled into a twisted, condensed line by angels of varying types. There were a few groups of soldiers milling about and helping with managing the whole mess as well. Set apart from everyone and everything else were Yuriko's new… Bafolk clansmen, fenced in by a mind-boggling number of summons from every possible direction.

"That's… a lot of people," and Yuriko was going to try to fulfill that many resurrection requests? "What tier of resurrection spells are you using?"

Draudillon herself was only aware of 『Raise Dead』, a Fifth-Tier spell, along with a few others that likely wouldn't be of any use here anyways. However, it didn't feel unlikely that Yuriko would have more effective higher-tier variants.

"Um, I've been using 『Resurrection』which is Seventh-Tier, and 『True Resurrection』which is Ninth-Tier," the angel replied as she carefully set Draudillon on the ground next to a group of those four-winged lion-headed angels. "Also 『Mass Raise Dead』—Seventh-Tier too, by the way—for people I'm pretty sure it'll work on."

"Gods…" hearing about it from Yuriko's own mouth was really another thing entirely, but… "Isn't that a ridiculous amount of mana?"

"Yeah, well, I ask some questions to get a feel for which rez spells I should use, but I'll probably end up spending most of my time regenerating mana like yesterday."

'How do you know they're answering truthfully though?' Draudillon kept that thought to herself. She should watch how Yuriko handled things first before casting judgment.

"I'm back everyone!" Yuriko waved at the convoluted line—gods, that was a lot of people—that waved back and cheered uproariously as the pair approached. "Okay, you guys know the drill! One person at a time, I'll ask some questions, and um, hopefully it works!"

Draudillon frowned. Were there really that many civilian casualties? From what Yuriko said, it could be implied that most of the soldiers were resurrected en masse yesterday, but there were still more people in line than she had expected.

"Draudillon?" Yuriko nudged her out of her thoughts. "I'm going to uh, head to the front there, so if you need anything just give me a shout. If anyone bothers you, the Cherubim Gatekeepers will beat them up!"

Draudillon snorted in amusement as the angel gave her a thumbs up. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

The dragon queen stood off to the side—just close enough so that she could hear the angel—and observed. She received quite a few glances and stares, but no one chose to bother her, surprisingly.

'I suppose I wouldn't bother me either if the chance to bring back my loved ones appeared before me. The summons are probably somewhat intimidating too.'

Maybe she could ask Yuriko if mother and father —no. Draudillon quashed that thought before it could mature. The Draconic Kingdom didn't need that kind of chaos now.

"'Kay, next!" Yuriko happily shouted as a man sobbingly hugged a dazed woman who Draudillon was fairly sure was nothing more than a few fingers seconds prior. The two tearfully exchanged a few words before profusely thanking their benefactor and walking away.

Draudillon smiled at the sight. Maybe she was just worried over nothing. It was a good, beautiful thing that Yuriko was doing. Maybe her people realized just how incredible a gift was being offered and wouldn't take advantage of it.

"S-Sorry," Yuriko looked down at her feet while a middle-aged woman clutching some trinket to her chest weeped before her. "I'm sorry. I… I can't bring her back."

One of the soldiers nearby gently led the woman out of the line, whispering words of comfort to her. It appeared even someone as powerful as Yuriko couldn't completely bypass the life-force requirement for resurrection.

'Should I end this?' Draudillon wondered to herself. It was true that the whole affair was good, but was it good for Yuriko? 'No, I should trust her. She did this for the better half of yesterday and decided to continue doing it.'

Several more minutes passed by in this fashion, with more resurrections failing than succeeding. Draudillon watched as Yuriko's smile grew more and more tired, more and more plastered on. Even still, she continued.

'You don't have to do this. No one would condemn you if you stop.'

"My grandfather," a messy looking man with a shopkeeper's apron was next in line. "His name was Tordera Barbero, an accomplished alchemist in his time."

"And he died within this city, right?"

"Yes, my Lady," the man pulled out a rugged pestle from his apron pocket. "This is one of the few portable heirlooms he left."

"It's fine, you can keep that," Yuriko cupped her chin. "I hate to ask this, but do you, hm, do you maybe sorta have any of his body parts? Sorry."

"I do not, my Lady," the man lowered his head. "Forgive me."

"A-Ah, no! It's my fault. It was a pretty messed up question to ask, right?" the angel bowed in apology. "Sorry, I'll just, uh, get to trying then, haha!"

"Tordera?" Draudillon muttered to herself. The name was a vaguely familiar one. He was indeed an accomplished alchemist like the man—his descendant—said, but surely he died years ago?

"『True Resurrection』," a flash of holy light appeared between Yuriko's hands before flickering out. "Oh. I, I'm sorry," the angel swallowed. "It's—it's not possible."

"How?" the man grew agitated. "He, of all people, should be able to be resurrected! He was the best damn alchemist this city had in the past few decades!"

"I-It's just not working," Yuriko cringed back, a look of guilt marring her expression. "I'm sorry. I wish it did. I'm really sorry."

"You're not trying hard enough—!"

"You shame us with your display," Draudillon couldn't take any more and regally strided towards the man. "Even high-tier resurrection magic is incapable of cheating old age, correct?"

Yuriko startled before nodding. "Y-Yeah."

Draudillon nodded in acknowledgement before turning back towards the man. "You would ask for the impossible and then insult our savior even after all they've done?"

"N-No, Your Majesty. But—"

"But nothing," she dismissed his objection. "She is here today to bring back loved ones lost in the recent tragedy. She is not here to resurrect every single person who has ever died. Leave, and reflect upon your actions."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the man slinked off with a saddened expression. Draudillon sighed. He didn't seem like the bad sort, but it was undeniable that people would change when confronted with such an opportunity. For better or worse, she could not say.

"You," she pointed at one of the soldiers. The summons might be too overzealous. "Keep an eye on him and ensure he refrains from attempting anything rash."

"Understood, Your Majesty!" the soldier proudly saluted and ran after the alchemist. Draudillon focused her attention on the line.

"I'm afraid I need to speak with the angel for a moment. It would be a favor to me if all of you could wait in the meantime."

Surprisingly, there weren't any dissidents as the mass of people murmured in agreement and assent. That was… heartening.

"Yuriko," she walked up to the somber angel and took her to the side. "You can't do this by yourself. You're going to burn out."

"I'm not working by myself; all these soldiers are here—"

"You know what I mean."

"Sorry…"

Draudillon exhaled. "I'm not mad at you. Just worried. When you try to accomplish a project on the scale of a city, you need a committee of people to help you streamline the process and handle all the details so you can focus on the important things. You should also think about compensation."

"Uwaaa… I don't know how to do any of that," a look of shame crept into Yuriko's eyes. "The most complicated thing I ever did was filling out spreadsheets. I don't know how to, how to um, tell people to do stuff. Or pricing things. I don't get that either."

"Then you just have to ask," Draudillon replied with an amused smile and patted her own chest. "Queen, remember?"

"I didn't want to bother you," Yuriko muttered and kicked a stray pebble. "You're always so busy all the time, so I was hoping you could take a break and relax for once."

"Th-Thank you," Draudillon coughed into a fist. "I appreciate it, I really do, but I'm their ruler. How could I possibly rest in this situation?"

"Yeah, haha…" Yuriko scratched her head. "That's a pretty good point."

"You, over there!" Draudillon nodded at one of the closer soldiers. "Take some angels and find us some clerics and diviners!"

"Yes, Your Majesty! But diviners? I've never even seen one—"

"Spread the word," Draudillon preempted his concern. "And they'll show up. Thank you for your service."

"Of c-course!" he saluted, back ramrod straight before dashing off alongside a flight of summons.

"Why would I need more clerics and divination specialists? A good number of my summons can already do some healing. Heck, they've been at it all—"

"Can your angels cast 『Zone of Truth』? 『Detect Thoughts』? Can they effectively leverage what they have to determine fact from fiction?" Draudillon challenged. "They're strong, there's no denying that, but they lack the flexibility of someone with a lifetime of experience."

"Right," Yuriko bit her bottom lip, deep in thought. "That's true. These guys haven't even been alive for a half a month."

"Indeed. Strength is valuable, but it can't show its true worth without finesse," Draudillon saw something out of her peripherals and snapped her head towards the newcomer. "Ah. One moment. I'll be back."

"Okay," Yuriko waved at her back and watched as she and her Uncle approached each other. "Have a good talk and, er, stuff!"

"Uncle," Draudillon crossed her arms. "You wished to speak with me?"

"You're a damned fool," he bluntly replied. "What were you thinking, coming all the way out to the east without telling anyone?"

"Didn't you thank us yesterday for coming to save all of you?" Draudillon quirked an eyebrow. "What's changed?"

"And you have my gratitude for that. But that was before I found out that you up and left the capital without a word. All of your courtiers and ministers are in a panic. I heard that even the Prime Minister is on his way back."

Draudillon felt a shiver run down her spine. That talk was not going to be fun. "There was no time to inform the court. By the time we received your missive, we already feared the worst."

"Hah…" Uncle grimly chuckled. "I agree. The city would have been turned into another farm if not for your timely intervention. Unfortunately, our nation has more concerns than just the beastmen."

"This has something to do with foreign affairs, doesn't it?" Draudillon narrowed her eyes in impatience. "Just come out and say it."

"Hmph. As you wish," he crossed his arms as well. "The vaunted Warrior-Captain of Re-Estize has died. Killed by Empire knights in Re-Estize lands."

"I… can't say I was expecting that," Draudillon admitted as she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "But doesn't it go against the Emperor's entire policy for the Kingdom?"

"Not necessarily. Eliminating their champion will allow the Empire to exert much more diplomatic pressure. I don't believe the Vaiself crown has any equivalent replacement."

"There's that templar priestess," Draudillon reminded him. "A lady from House Aindra if I recall correctly. As well as the leader of Red Drop, no?"

Uncle scoffed. "Both people who abandoned their duties to run off and play hero? I doubt it. Adventurers aren't allowed to intervene in political affairs anyways."

"Maybe. So how has this affected Empire policy regarding us?" Draudillon hesitantly agreed. 'Someone who's playing hero just might decide to break that rule.'

"Less aid, for one. The Emperor is massing a strike force against E-Rantel with the excuse—"

"What?!" now that caught Draudillon off-guard. "Is Jircniv insane?!"

"If you would allow me to finish, Your Majesty," Uncle tiredly sighed. "E-Rantel has been overrun with undead. There was a… ritual, just last night. A massive army of undead popped up in the middle of the city, and well, let's just say that my informant was fortunate enough to escape with his life."

"I—what? Gods," she rubbed her forehead. "So he's planning to grab the city using humanitarian aid as an excuse. How did this happen?"

Uncle's armor clanked against itself as he shrugged. "I wasn't able to receive much in the way of details. From the little I heard, it's likely that it was caused by Zurrernorn cultists, thankfully. It would be a fine mess indeed if the Empire was at fault."

"While we're busy fighting for our lives against demihumans, other people are busy killing other humans for power and resources," Draudillon bitterly laughed. "How tiring. How absolutely tiring."

"Such is the common state of man," Uncle dryly replied. "It does us no good to contemplate upon it."

"Right," she breathed out. "Anyways, I can't imagine the Theocracy letting all of this happen without doing anything though."

"Little news has left the Theocracy as of late. Although, they finally redeployed the Sunlight Scripture towards Fort Adelemus. It seems that you have received your wish after all, Your Majesty."

"About time," Draudillon grumbled. "They haven't been sending that many clerics or paladins lately either."

"Their feud with the Elf King, I'm sure. Speaking of which, are you sure about trusting her?"

"Who are you referring to when you say 'her?'" Draudillon carefully controlled her voice.

"She," Uncle motioned in the general direction of the preoccupied angel. "Is a walking calamity. She may be kind, and she may be generous, but she is not safe."

"I trust her," Draudillon steadfastly held his gaze. "I'm glad she's the one with that kind of power. I could think of none worthier."

"Hmph," her Uncle snorted and looked into the distance with a forlorn look in his eyes. "Perhaps that's why she has done what she's done."

"What?" Draudillon was baffled. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing of importance," the white haired warrior bore a complicated expression. "Your… Niece. For what it's worth, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you as often as I should have been."

"This feels rather convenient," Draudillon couldn't completely keep the bitterness out of her voice. "I'm suddenly your niece again when things are going well, hm?"

"There is no simple explanation for it," Duke Carthalo refused to meet her eyes. "I will not lie and say my personal feelings played no part in it, but there are far more reasons than you could possibly imagine."

"Then explain it," she bit out. "Or do you take me for a fool, Duke? Did you think years of negligence could be patched over with a simple 'I'm sorry'? We've barely ever talked since mother and father died. This isn't something you can brush over that easily."

"… I cannot."

"Then leave."

"Draudillon—"

"Leave."

"I'll inform the Prime Minister and your court about the situation. And thank you for saving my son," with that parting statement and one last meaningful look, the Duke left the plaza. Draudillon slumped against the Gatekeeper, the summon adjusting its stance to allow for a more comfortable position.

She numbly stared at the sky, her heart filled with a mixture of anger, regret, and melancholy.

"Fuck…"