The night was cold and the wind that was heavily whipping the structures of the city; this made the walk particularly difficult. As long as we remained near the hotel, whose surrounding walls partially protected us from the sea breeze, we were able to withstand the aggressive climate of the planet. However, by the time Bastila and I had set off for a suitable pub, we had, without even realising it, simultaneously hurried towards our destination.

The idea was definitely to avoid at all costs the potential seedy place, which Canderous had most certainly chosen, for a more respectable spot, where no one would want to make lowly demands on Bastila.

We were getting close to a pub that our hotel receptionist had recommended when he delivered my room card. According to him, it was a very recommendable drinking establishment, which attracted a population that was not necessarily wealthy, but was nevertheless quite respectable. As we approached the entrance, I felt a twinge of nervousness from Bastila, clearly struggling with the idea of a 'night out', which must have appeared particularly inappropriate to her. Theoretically, and in practice, there was no alcohol prohibition in the Jedi teachings. Of course, moderation and control of pleasures and impulses were nevertheless emphasised. But no Master would ever lecture Bastila if it came to light that she had allowed herself a single drink with a friend. We were in the middle of another moment of waiting, and we needed a break. I realised at this thought that in the blink of an eye, I had put my original plans on hold to spend some quality time with the Jedi, when these plans were supposed to come first. Mature, she said?

We had both stopped in front of the entrance. Bastila still looked hesitant, and I was struggling to shake off my fleeting thoughts. At that moment I felt like a teenager who had decided to skip school to go courting the girl he liked. My attitude was anything but wise. However, just as my reason was screaming for me to leave and go get information for our mission, I laid eyes on Bastila, who was now facing me, visibly waiting to see whether I would continue with my initiative or not. I let a few long seconds pass, during which I lost myself in her. That pale skin on which the electric blue signs of the local cantinas and pubs were reflected, a cold colour strangely mixed with the warm ochre of the light projected in the distance by the planet Pyr, observable in Manaan's austere night sky.

On the way to our destination, she had not kept her hair tied up, as she usually did but left it completely loose. In places it waved slightly, a sign that it had been released from its ties very recently and had not yet regained its natural movement. Brown tips were brushing softly against the young woman's trapezius, while others looked as if they were dozing on her shoulders; shoulders that were covered by a slim-fitting jacket this evening. In an attempt to remain as anonymous as possible, she had put on this sober garment which seemed to be dark blue - a refined and somewhat authoritative blue. The jacket rested on a rather thin textile top, this one black, which I thought had long sleeves and featured a roll neck. She looked especially smart on that cold evening, just what you would expect from a traveller visiting Atho. So smart that I was worried about drawing the interest of tourists and locals with this pilot's leather that certainly had no business being in the posh parts of the city. However, I figured if I seemed so out of place, Bastila would certainly have pointed it out - she hadn't done that.

With my eyes locked in the Jedi's opaline gaze, my decision was made. A deceptively naive part of me thought that we might be able to gather some interesting information over the course of this drink. So why not combine the useful with the pleasant? Or rather the pleasant with the potentially, but very uncertainly, useful. Of course the thought was totally absurd.

"Is everything all right?" Bastila whispered worriedly.

"Yes." I respond in a nervous tone. "I just got a little dizzy." I lied, trying not to reveal the thoughts that were running through my mind at that moment.

"Maybe we should go back, Corem." The Jedi suggested reasonably, in an almost grave voice, as she gently placed a hand on my arm.

"No." I retorted sharply, sounding almost pleading. "It's nothing, I feel much better already. The wind and cold must be shaking me up a bit tonight. Besides, I'm short of sleep."

I understood a split second after these last words that they could be interpreted as an accusation. Moreover, the woman seemed to tense up even more at this statement, which brought us directly back to our encounter on the Ebon Hawk. I had no intention of rubbing salt in the wound. It was just another clumsy remark on my part. So, in an attempt to bury my misstep, with a smile that managed to conceal some degree of urgency, I added to my initial lie:

"And I've hardly eaten anything since this morning. Here's our chance to get something to eat."

Bastila gave me a puzzled look. Obviously she was unconvinced by my arguments, but apparently did not know the right way to respond. With this story of dizziness, she was most likely looking for an excuse to skip this upcoming moment, and perhaps even to run away from me and from the feelings we apparently couldn't repress as easily as she might have hoped.

"Come on. If you don't want me to pass out here, let's go in!" I exaggerated, attempting to hurry the young woman before she could vocalise a possible turnaround. I gave the female Jedi a friendly grin, and she took a few seconds before finally agreeing, displaying a mock disillusioned look. We finally entered the pub.

We went through a kind of entrance hatch, where we could enjoy a delicious sensation of heat, chasing the cruel sea cold out of our clothes and generously enveloping our frozen skin. Bastila and I both breathed a sigh of relief, an uncontrolled sigh, like a reflex. We exchanged a knowing glance, smiled at each other again, and then stepped frankly into the pub.

It was a busy night. The room was crowded, all the way from the bar to the darkest corners of the place. I doubted at the time that we would be able to find something to sit on, but I was brought out of my reflection by Bastila, who tugged lightly on my sleeve, silently urging me to follow her, which I did unhesitatingly. The young woman struggled to move through the crowd. I was forced to follow the Jedi so closely that I sometimes involuntarily brushed the curve of her back and stroked her hands with mine. The Jedi did not seem to mind this physical contact, which she must surely have known was unintentional. And rightly so: although I could not deny a visceral desire to savour this fleeting promiscuity and to fully enjoy her presence so close to me, I did my best not to abuse these totally innocent bodily closenesses. The woman walked on towards a rather quiet corner of the place, where she had apparently spotted a vacant table. I couldn't help but smile contentedly at the sight of this happy available table, feeling relieved that we were going to spend a very informal time with each other. As we were about to settle down, I put a hand on the Jedi's shoulder, gave her a friendly wink and said warmly:

"Well done. What a sharp eye you have."

She responded with a humble and gentle smile, before we sat down. We needed a few dozen seconds to get used to the ambient noise, the gesticulations of the customers and the staff, the smell of alcohol mixed with the slightly humid heat of the room. At first sight, it was a repulsive environment. However, both Bastila and I appeared to be absorbed by the atmosphere and embraced it warmly. It was a completely different world from the one in which we had been living for more than three months. Since Dantooine, we had been flying from planet to planet, crawling through sites that were increasingly unwelcoming and hostile. And when we achieved our objective, our only refuge was the cold metal pile that was the Ebon Hawk. The damp heat, which was clearly not very flattering to the nostrils, was strangely pleasing. While Bastila and I were both deep in thought, watching the crowd, a man approached our table urgently, bringing us out of our musings immediately. We directed our attention to him, expecting him to announce himself.

"Madam, Sir, what can we get you?" The man asked in a cordial voice.

Bastila shot me an almost panicked look. She obviously hadn't thought about what she might be drinking, and she clearly wasn't in her natural environment. Her distraught expression, which I found endearing, caused me to laugh briefly without being able to contain it.

"I'll have a glass of Onderonian wine. Whatever you like." I addressed the waiter. The man bowed professionally and turned his face to Bastila, waiting for her to express her order. The Jedi glanced briskly between the waiter and me. Then she came to fix her gaze on me, brought her head close and whispered uncomfortably to me:

"Corem, I really don't know what to do."

I moved my face closer to hers too, in order to preserve the privacy she apparently needed at that moment.

"There is no obligation to drink alcohol if you don't want to." I whispered in an attempt to reassure her. I glanced quickly at the waiter who was patiently standing by. Then I returned to Bastila's eyes.

"I'll have what you're having." She finally voiced, as she straightened up.

"Fine Madam." The waiter replied before leaving our table to handle our order and those of other customers.

I straightened up too, and shot a look at the Jedi, a grin forming on my face.

"Do you think you can drink it?" I asked nonjudgmentally. The young woman stared at me with a look that I found oddly mischievous. She smiled soberly and crossed her arms, her eyes still on me.

"We'll see. If I don't like it, I'll give it to you. Remember to order something to eat when we are being served. You're not going to drink on an empty stomach."

Damn. I'd forgotten about that lie. Had she really believed it?

"Sounds wise." I replied, not leaving my happy silly grin. That one was probably going to stay on all evening. I probably looked like a complete idiot.

The waiter came back to us about ten minutes later, which might have seemed like a long time, but considering how busy it was tonight, it would have been unfair to blame him. So we took advantage of his presence to order a few snacks, officially so I wouldn't get sick from my supposedly empty stomach at the moment and from the potential two glasses of wine that awaited me. It took us about five more minutes to be served.

Under my impulse we toasted and each took a sip of our drink. I couldn't resist staring at the Jedi, wondering if she would be able to take more of the beverage. To my surprise, she took a second sip. Then I watched as she placed her glass on the tabletop and clasped her hands together behind it. She gave me another teasing look. The same mischievous look she had given a moment before. I eyed her in some amusement, but I couldn't quite contain my childlike impatience at the verdict she was about to deliver.

" Well." She initiated in an overplayed formal voice. "My dear friend, I believe I can go through with this."

I gave the Jedi a wide smile, which was a mixture of amusement, surprise, but also of the joy I felt at being there with her in such a pleasant and light moment. The unbearable cold in which we had been since our kiss was becoming a more and more distant memory as the evening went on and our exchanges became increasingly delightful. I raised my glass, as if to honour the young woman, and bowed my head slightly:

"Madam." I pronounced in an exaggeratedly ceremonial tone. Bastila let out a frank, but sober and elegant laugh.

She grabbed her glass again and imitated my gesture by bringing it up to her face. Instinctively, we each took another sip.

It was impossible for me to take my eyes off the Jedi. Of course, there was no longer any question of initiating anything explicitly romantic. But I could hardly physically tear myself away from her. At that moment, I no longer had the notorious Jedi in front of me. There was a woman, who looked like she wanted to release part of her pressure, who just wanted to enjoy herself for a little while. I had never seen her smile and laugh so freely before, just like a regular woman in a regular world. I was very much in admiration of her talents, of her work, of the prodigy that she was. And I could even admit that a part of me felt very proud to be in such close contact with the legendary Bastila Shan. Nevertheless, I treasured every moment when the Jedi allowed the woman she also was out of her cage. Tonight, Bastila Shan seemed to introduce this woman to me like a prison escapee, like a disciple who had run away from her cult. That's all it took for my heart to race.

My thoughts then led me to the Endar Spire. On the landing deck. The handover. I reviewed the images of my tumultuous encounter with this woman whom I had almost vowed to hate, and who was now sitting right in front of me, casually sipping her glass of wine, a soft contented smile on her lips. Then came to mind the memories of the swoop race, of how utterly despicably she had treated me that day. I discreetly lifted one shoulder and almost ritually sniffed the leather of the pilot's jacket I was wearing. At that moment I thought I was going crazy. Bastila Shan was turning me into an obsessive weirdo, looking for anything that might bring me back to her. I let out a suppressed laugh without realising it, which attracted Bastila's attention and fuelled her curiosity. She looked at me quizzically, but she was still smiling.

"What are you laughing at?" She asked playfully.

"Must be the alcohol." I lied.

"Sure." She responded sarcastically."Because of a couple of sips?"

I grinned broadly at the young woman. I let a few seconds pass and then resumed, in a delightful exhale:

"I am feeling good, Bastila. That's all."

We looked at each other for a brief moment, during which we both exchanged another smile.

"That's good to hear." She simply replied in her accented voice.

We remained in silence for nearly a minute after that. A silence that might have been uncomfortable. But it wasn't. It was obvious that this early evening was not a simple time of friendship. We both knew that we were engaged in a very ambiguous kind of interaction. You didn't look at a friend the way we were looking at each other tonight. You don't smile at a friend the way we smile at each other tonight. Bastila could try to bury our feelings as much as she wanted, I knew at that point that she could never completely erase them, that she could not make them disappear as she apparently intended. But did she really want to? The way she was now, she seemed to be worlds away from her dreadful Jedi Code. I didn't expect anything more than what we were experiencing right now. But these interactions had already, in my opinion, largely transgressed the cruel injunctions of the Code. Later on, she could always deny it and pretend that it was just a casual moment between friends.

It was far too late now.

I loved her. And I was sure she loved me too. All we had to do was ignore it until we finally found each other. Because, as my eyes blissfully drowned in hers, I harboured the deep conviction that we were bound to remain together.

What existed between her and me was far too strong and obvious, that I refused to believe that we could never experience life for each other. It was more than a single embrace outside a filthy cantina on Tatooine, it was more than a simple but wonderful kiss on a small cargo ship, and of course, it was more than just a Force bond, which she systematically used to shield herself behind. It was my chest that tightened every time I laid eyes on her, it was my heart that squeezed every time she spoke to me, it was that curiously pleasurable pain that came with every move she made.

Bastila Shan, in all her elegant and magnetic splendour, in all her natural nobility - sometimes leaning towards arrogance - in all the strength of her anger and her suffering, in all her humanity, her altruism, her benevolence, her compassion and empathy, her intelligence and her talents, had evidently dug her way into my heart and soul, where she had made herself comfortable for a stay that would never end.

The evening carried on in a similar tone. We were very careful not to talk about our mission in such a crowded place. So I decided to share with her some of the memories I still had in my mind of my years as a student: the courses I had taken, the exams I had passed, the messes I had made as a young adult. She didn't necessarily respond to my story, but she listened with genuine and sincere attention, laughing here and there at some of the anecdotes of student nights out, the glass of wine gently twirling in her slender fingers. Then, when I had finished mentioning these few fragments of memories, Bastila resumed our exchange by telling me in more detail the accounts of her first steps on Dantooine. She did so in a restrained voice and vigilantly, to avoid being overheard and attracting the curiosity of others. She opened up in a way she had never done before: her difficult arrival, the long months during which she mourned her loneliness and the absence of her father. Then she switched to some lighter stories, and somehow revealed to me that she had not always been as disciplined as she was now. I was astonished to learn that Bastila, as a teenager, had made a point of driving Vrook Lamar - her Master at the time - crazy whenever she had the chance. The man, who had a deep appreciation for his apprentice's talents, had apparently taken a lot on himself. However, the Council eventually decided that their collaboration might not be working ideally and that Bastila needed to be looked after by another teacher. She had been officially assigned to Master Vandar, but in reality, all the Masters of Dantooine had been involved in her training. She was an exceptional element, which had to be monitored in an exceptional way. We continued for approximately one hour. An hour during which I contemplated every gesture, every laugh, every breath of the woman in front of me. Unfortunately, we had to end the evening since we had the feeling that we were being watched by some of the clients. This was not necessarily a cause for concern. But we didn't want the famous Jedi to be recognised. We decided to pay for our order and then leave the place.

The damp cold and the iodine wind assaulted us violently again. However, we weren't willing to go back to the hotel so quickly, so we hurried to an alley sheltered from the cruel will of the Manaan elements. The town seemed deserted. All the inhabitants were probably at home, keeping warm. The tourists, if not all in the pub where we had been a little earlier, must have gone to their lodgings for the night. The alleyway we had taken led us into a sort of giant glasshouse, under which luxuriant flora that I assumed to be tropical was peacefully growing and developing. Both of us, caught by a furious natural curiosity, rushed in. The transition from the aggressive cold of the outside to the humid warmth of the huge glass structure gave me a brief headache, and a feeling of nausea knotted my throat. However, as we moved through the glasshouse, I adjusted to the new microclimate and returned to my original state. We walked at a gentle pace, enjoying the unusual environment and its soothing tranquillity. Bastila silently observed the surroundings, this unexpectedly dense nature. We continued on our way until we came upon what seemed to be a clearing. Thanks to the ochre light reflected by Pyr, we could perceive a vast expanse of dirt around which dominated a succession of colossal trees. In the centre of this area, we could hear small amphibians croaking in what seemed to be a freshwater pool, in which aquatic plants were proliferating abundantly. As I was getting acquainted with this new world, I sensed Bastila leaving the visitor's circuit and going towards the pool. She walked with a quick, almost hurried step. So much so that I almost lost sight of her as she approached her destination; Pyr guided us with its warm glow, but we were far from being like in daylight. And the only illumination that kept us from getting totally lost were the little red diodes that marked out the path of the visitors. Nevertheless, the colour of these diodes, very cleverly chosen, had the power to illuminate enough for us to find our way around while giving our eyes the opportunity to get used to the surrounding darkness. I left the circuit too and joined Bastila, whom I could see in the distance with considerable difficulty. I had to walk about a hundred metres before I reached her. The young woman was staring at the water, which was rippling as its small inhabitants agitated, probably in order to hide from the unwelcome people we represented for them.

"A remarkable place." I said in an ordinary voice.

"Indeed." Bastila replied in a similar tone, her eyes still focused on the pool.

I glanced at the Jedi. Then I decided to sit down on the floor, facing the pool. Bastila finally turned away and looked at me questioningly. I didn't do or say anything, I just sat there. The woman, after a few short seconds, followed my lead and sat down right next to me. We remained in silence for a moment. I watched the ripples on the surface of the water, while keeping an eye on what Bastila was doing. She had picked up a tiny stick from somewhere and was manipulating it between her fingers. For the first time since our moment in the pub, I felt her nervous, even anxious. I turned my face to her and asked with solicitude and concern:

"Are you all right?"

The young woman seemed to clench her teeth, her eyes resting on her small piece of wood. Then she answered:

"Yes." She replied, twirling the stick with her fingers. Then she stopped suddenly, came to find my gaze and added in a curiously determined voice, with a measured smile on her lips. "I'm fine."

We stared at each other for a moment without saying anything. I was confused, and I thought my face reflected that feeling. She must surely have noticed. But I didn't say anything. I knew very well what was going through her mind at that moment. The Jedi was waking up. She was coming to get the woman she had been tonight and throw her back in the cage. The idea caused a strong dissension in me, which I tried hard to suppress. No need to make a fuss, she was probably already in an intense inner conflict. I took my eyes off the woman and turned my attention straight ahead. For the first time in this pleasant evening, the silence, which filled both of us, was particularly oppressive and distressing. We were past the point of an innocent time between two people in love, enjoying each other's presence and existence. It was over. I felt an endless squeeze in my chest. This one was especially hurtful, truly unbearable. It triggered a chain of reactions in me, each one as uncomfortable as the next. A knot formed in the depths of my throat like a physical demonstration of my distress and anguish of the moment. I did my best not to let it out. But I was sure that I was not completely successful. However, Bastila did not question me about my sudden change in mood, something she must have sensed through our bond. She certainly knew what was going on with me. And she probably had to refrain from coming to my rescue. We were no longer supposed to talk about our feelings for each other. I just had to deal with it. I needed to bring up a new topic.

"Bastila." I called out. I felt the Jedi's attention turn to me.

"Yes?"

"What was it like to face and defeat Darth Revan?" I asked, looking back at her.

Bastila immediately frowned.

I suspected it would be a sensitive question. She had shared a lot of her life with me, since we began searching for the star maps. But there was one moment she had never really mentioned: her confrontation with the previous Dark Lord. At the time, I regretted bringing it up. We were already in a very uncomfortable atmosphere, why did I have to ask her about this event that I knew was painful for her? The Jedi turned her gaze to her small stick, which she twirled in her fingers again. I sighed quietly as I stared at the tiny piece of wood too, responding in some measure to the foolishness of my present initiative.

"Sorry." I announced, looking up at the young woman, who remained in her posture. "It's none of my business."

Bastila suddenly froze. Her eyes were still firmly sealed on the stick, but they seemed to be paralysed, and she didn't blink for a few long and worrying seconds. Then she gradually returned to her normal state, spun the stick again once, twice, three times, before dropping it to the ground in a nervous exhalation. She placed both hands flat on the ground on either side of her hips, and finally met my eyes.

"It's a painful memory, Corem." She pronounced almost sternly.

"I can see that." I replied gently.

Bastila let out another breath, equally nervous, but marked by a measure of determination.

"All my brothers are dead, while I am still here." The young woman struggled to say. I knew the suffering she had kept from this event. But perhaps I had not properly evaluated it. From an outside perspective, the death of the Sith Lord was more than welcome news, and Bastila had been elevated to the rank of a living legend. No one had a full appreciation of what that moment might have done to the young woman. However, in order to put things into perspective, I added:

"I understand your feelings on this, but your survival was a blessing - you put an end to the actions of a powerful Dark Lord, Bastila."

"In favour of another." She corrected me. She paused for a moment, taking her eyes off me. Then she returned her gaze to me.

"And I didn't kill Revan." The Jedi declared with a strangely defeated resolve.

I stared at the young woman in disbelief. I didn't understand. This was not the speech that had been broadcast throughout the Republic. Was there some hidden meaning behind her words? Was there a message I could not read? I frowned, trapped in deep thought. Bastila looked at me with what seemed like apprehension.

"You didn't kill Revan?" I finally repeated.

"No." The Jedi responded. "It was Malak." She finally clarified. Her eyes returned to the pool in front of us, then she added, "When we were about to fight, Malak ordered the bombardment of his Master's ship from his own cruiser. After the attack, I was the only one to rise."

I gave no immediate answer. I took time, for me to absorb the news and for Bastila to recover from this revelation about which she appeared to be embarrassed. Then I allowed myself to move very slightly and get a little closer to the woman. She watched me, looking uncertain, but didn't say anything. We were so close at this point that our shoulder were brushing, and we both could feel each other's warmth. As I moved one last time to find the most comfortable position, I gave a smile to the Jedi, who continued in a sorrowful voice:

"Disappointing, isn't it?

I raised my eyebrows and my shoulders in surprise.

"No. Quite the opposite." I said, my eyes locked with hers. "What else can you expect from a Sith?" I asked rhetorically. "I am truly sorry for your brothers. But, even though we did not know each other, I am glad that nothing happened to you that day."

Bastila watched me in amazement and perhaps even with a hint of emotion, which she had not been able to hold back.

"And it is pretty good news that you didn't have to remove a life yourself, isn't it?" I added reasonably.

The young woman kept staring at me, but her face relaxed, and I could see what seemed to be the beginnings of a smile on the corners of her lips. I followed Bastila in this attempt at relief, and offered her the widest, most genuine grin I could muster.

"It is a shame you are so reluctant to adhere to our Code, for you have the soul of a true Jedi." She looked me straight in the eye. "In my most difficult moments, seeing you follow such a noble path brings peace to my heart, Corem. I am very proud of you."

"Thank you." I responded fondly before continuing warmly: "But I don't deserve any credit, I only follow my teacher's lead."

Bastila could not hold back an incredulous chuckle, which surprised me somewhat, and retorted in an amused voice:

"You flatterer. Thank gods that you don't do that. It would be such a disaster. Between the two of us, you're the one who guides me rather than me guiding you. In any case, you should know that you are an inspiration to me."

I shook my head in disapproval, sighing in a deliberately exaggerated manner. I smiled at the incoherence of Bastila's thinking. She then seemed to be unsettled by my attitude, and spoke behind a nervous laugh:

"What? What's so funny?"

"It's crazy. You really don't understand how fundamental your efforts are in my life. How much I value our collaboration, which works so well. I told you before, stop picturing yourself alone with the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders. There's two of us. Just trust me some more and share some of your burden with me."

"I trust you with my life. These are my abilities I question." The Jedi retorted sharply. "I just want to protect you." She added in a tortured whisper, her eyes now staring at the pool.

I watched the young woman, now silent, curled up with her arms around her knees. I sighed softly. Then I allowed myself to place a hand on the Jedi's back, between her shoulder blades. My gesture seemed to draw her attention subtly. She turned her face slightly towards me, without catching my eyes, and made no further response.

"I feel very moved." I said. "But you can't protect me from everything all the time. No one could." Bastila turned her face a little more, indicating that she was listening carefully, though she still did not look directly at me. I continued, " So please try to take this weight off your mind, and accept that I may want to look after you too. It doesn't make you any less capable."

Bastila remained quiet, but she seemed to regain some composure. She exhaled long breaths, as if recovering from painful sobs. Then she turned her head and faced me at last, with her eyes locked in mine. She smiled slightly, nodded her head and uttered, "I'll try." I then removed my hand from her back and returned to my original position. I gave a brief laugh and, with an exaggeratedly raised eyebrow, I said playfully:

""It is a talent to find with the best partners, you know."

Bastila couldn't contain an open laugh at my words. We shared an amused, friendly glance, and then I saw the Jedi stand up and offer me a hand:

"Let's go. You promised me we wouldn't stay out late." The woman indicated in a mischievous tone."Do you think you can get up with that swollen head of yours?" She added, with a generous smile on her lips. I stared at the woman in amusement, then, as I grabbed her hand, I replied, pursuing the joke:

"We'll only know if we try."

I rose from my seat and joined Bastila at man's level. We both smiled at each other again, and the young woman spoke up: "I guess you can." We finally set off again and reached the hotel only fifteen minutes later. We said our goodbyes and went to our respective rooms for the night. I couldn't say about her, but it was obvious that my night was going to be filled with images of that evening.


I know that this kind of scene may seem a bit strange in such a universe, but why not, after all!

Thank you for your reading!