A/N: Just so things make sense, you should remember the coffee shop scene in chapter thirteen.

…and that is a big expectation considering how sporadic my updates are, but there you have it.

Thanks to everyone for the comments.

Karina001: I wonder about that, too. I don't know which Allen should survive.

Freefan1412: Thank you! We will see much more of the older Allen, I think.

Synthetic Soldiers

Capítulo 18 – Uma xícara de café

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

"What is your dream, teacher?" asked Allen one evening, as he carefully placed the test tube alongside others.

Nea tilted his head and stopped studying the chemicals for a while, staring at the fourteen years old boy's face instead. What had prompted this? He usually made sure their interactions were quite formal. On the other hand, he should indulge the boy's personal questions every now and then, so as to create some sort of bond between them, even if one sided.

"I want… to find my brother," he declared. 'And kill him' was how the statement should have ended, but it would be better if he kept his murderous plotting to himself.

All in all, the mere search for a relative was a boring 'dream' to share and would successfully end the conversation. Or so Nea thought, until he noticed the boy was staring at him with eyes filled by surprise.

It was a little disconcerting.

"What is it?" asked Nea irritably, when it was clear Allen wouldn't resume his work without prompting.

"You have a brother?" asked him quietly. Hands that had been preparing field medicine by following Nea's handwritten instructions now rested in the table, making it clear the boy wouldn't be working from now on. "What… what is he like? What happened?"

The Noah hadn't expected Allen's curiosity. The boy was naturally nosy, yes, but Nea had managed to turn that inquisitiveness towards more fruitful endeavors, such as battle training and the study of sorcery, biology and sociology. He had created a wall of sorts between them: he would give the young exorcist knowledge and a companionship of sorts, but wouldn't speak of his feelings, cuddle with the boy, or any such family nonsense.

Making his decision, he smacked the side of Allen's head with a nearby book, and the boy squealed in surprise. "None of your business," decided Nea, "now back to work."

Allen seemed to visibly deflate, and he wondered whether he had done the right thing. He'd never say the truth about his damned brother, but he could always lie in a pretense of opening up to his apprentice.

The young redhead didn't seem inclined to resume his task any time soon, and Nea was about to reprehend him, before the boy spoke in a small voice.

"My dream…" he started, and Nea could already imagine the end of that phrase. Allen had said it so many times, already. "…my dream… is to find my father."

Well, look at that. He could swear it would be the old 'destroy the Order' thing. It seems like he doesn't have such a bad case of tunnel vision, he thought.

"Is that so…?" said Nea, staring intently at the boy.

Nea always worked with the young exorcist with the assumption that the boy wanted to terminate the Black Order and nothing else. Should he change his perspective and goals, the Noah didn't know what he would do with him.

"Yes… his name…"

And more than that…

"…was Mana," said Allen, imparting what he believed was a great secret.

…it seemed their 'dreams' were the same.

Now, Nea had an easy way to finish this night. He could engage the boy in conversation about family, about what they could achieve together, about how they would reach their goals. But he couldn't find it in himself to do it.

He didn't want to talk of Mana.

"Ouch!" complained Allen again, the book's hard spine once more hitting his skull. "What was that for?" he whined, and the somber air he had carried when speaking about his so called father was gone.

"Don't pick up my habits, brat," chided Nea in reference to them both looking for Mana, though Allen naturally wouldn't understand.

"Huh?" the boy said in confusion, tilting his head.

Nea's eye twitched, and the book-weapon flew.

"Ouch!"

"I said, don't pick my habits," he snapped once again, noticing that child, as years passed, acted more and more like him, even though Nea hadn't planned so. The similarities manifested themselves through words, actions, decisions and even small gestures, such as the head tilt to express uncertainty.

Allen's unconscious imitation of Nea shouldn't be a problem, the man pondered as he massaged the annoyed teenager's throbbing scalp in an attempt to appease him. But, and Nea didn't know why, the Noah felt nothing good would come out of it.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

Under the cloudy weather, a gentleman calmly made his way through one of the many abandoned roads. Both his clothes and his countenance were unaffected by the dreadful state of the area around him. One of his gloved hands carried an elegant cane, designed more as a display of wealth than as an aid in walking for the noble who looked admittedly quite young.

Usually, such a sight in the outside meant either a citizen had been unlucky enough so as to get lost or misplace his documents, or an Akuma donning a deceased person's well preserved corpse. The demons would always wear the skin of one of their victims, and were able to restore both the fake body and the original clothes to a perfect state after every transformation.

This person, however, was not a demon, much less an exile. He carried neither the desperation of a lost citizen, nor the ferocity of a killing machine. In a world of ordinary humans, exorcists, Akuma and Noah, he was a part of the smallest group, the rarest; a member of the family that had played with humanity for a very long time, before the tormented people actually managed to grow in power so fast they became, instead of mere playthings, actual enemies.

It was so tiring.

Tyki huffed and kicked a stone that blocked his path. Every day, he found more and more reasons to distance himself from the rest of his family. He had been like that ever since his genes awakened and he became a member of the so called evil noblemen. Once a moneyless vagrant who nonetheless enjoyed a life of debauchery and fun, he'd been recruited by the Noah few weeks after the first symptoms of the change, being informed by the other members of the family that he should rejoice: he was a part of the small group of rulers of the world, blessed with great power and one of the very few leaders of the dark side of the Old War. They presented him to a fantastic world of sorcery and riches, of depravity and dominance over the race he'd once been a part of… the human race.

Back then, the Portuguese man had looked around in fascination, thanking his fellow clansmen like a happy employee would his boss for a new job, before turning tail and immediately returning to his previous life, now a vagabond who had a trump card in the form of immortality, but a vagabond nonetheless.

It had been fun.

That had been two hundred years ago, however, in an era without walled cities, a precarious and still weak Black Order and much more peace. An era where the so called old countries existed and Portugal was more than a piece of desolated earth with a single city.

Tyki had never been a very anxious person. Life had always been about enjoyment, and his disregard towards troubles and responsibility had been something he'd taken with him even after discovering he could walk through walls and control soul consuming demons that he had once believed a fable. That's why it didn't take long for him to leave the Ark, only to have his so called family pursue him in every corner and street of the earth. It had been somewhat entertaining, and though being a Noah meant he would usually be appointed to annoying assignments here and there, his life had mostly been one of freedom.

Then countries closed themselves in the form of many fortresses, slowly but surely separating humanity in two groups in an attempt to exterminate the Akuma in their midst. It was a characteristic of humans, he would notice later, to develop in a pace that became faster and faster, until you couldn't accompany them anymore.

More than a hundred years ago, their patriarch, the Earl, had disappeared for the first time in thousands of years. With humanity's advances and the apparent death of their leader, the family had entered in a panic and basically disappeared from the map. Adam, the first Noah, had always proven himself able to destroy them all on a whim should he wish to. If he could be erased from history, what in the world could the other Noah do?

But the Earl returned, likely thanks to the Noah's eternal rebirth circle…

Yet it didn't take long for the clan to question whether it had been truly the Earl they were talking to. The man was absurdly different: he sometimes acted like his old self, and sometimes exploded or retracted in bouts of anger or fear, whose source they eventually learned the name of…

Nea.

Nea, Nea, Nea, the insane but still very powerful patriarch would cry and then whisper and then shout, but they couldn't broach the subject without risking their very lives. The Earl would disappear for weeks or months, then reappear looking worse than ever. He adopted a ridiculous costume but, whenever he was out of it, the effects of his desperation were clear on his haunted eyes, his hollow cheeks and twitching fingers. The problem stopped being the Order and became that single entity itself, Nea, whom the man seemed to fear as if he or she meant death itself.

From the 1760s to 1771, the decade of Allen Walker, the Millennium Earl was not only a danger to enemies, but also to his family and even himself. Whenever Allen Walker made a move, he would swear it was this Nea person instead, even though the boy had been born decades after the Earl's descent into madness. In an attempt to solve the situation, the Noah family started pursuing the exorcist too, fruitlessly. The human was almost impossible to find and, when they managed to meet him, he felt indestructible.

But the Earl had been too powerful, and the day when he killed the boy eventually came. Tyki remembered taking a brief glance at the slain body of their bothersome enemy, just before Road opened a door to have them leave, the Earl ecstatic with his victory. Every family member had imagined it was over, and so it was…

For a few years. Very, very short years.

Then the Earl declared Nea was still alive somehow and, decades later, Allen Walker apparently reincarnated somehow, and though they were inclined to believe that a lie – humans had achieved many things, but not yet immortality - the fact was that if the Earl was disturbed before, he now grew absolutely insane, and Tyki honestly wondered whether he could really be called an immortal, since it wouldn't be long before their insane patriarch killed them all in one of his frankly schizophrenic bouts of violence.

That was why he now walked amidst nowhere, mostly trying to occupy his time than to truly do what he used to… play human. There was no point in being what he used to be. Tyki the miner was dead, and so were his friends. The outside didn't really provide pleasant company, and the walls were so closely watched it wasn't like he could entertain himself for long before being approached by the guards and have to beg Road for a door out. He could cause quite some destruction, yes, but had to keep low as of late, lest he approached Nea… Allen Walker… or whoever that damn person was, and ended bothering the Earl.

Really, what was there to do now, anyway? The Ark was hell, and the Earth was separated between dangerous cities inside the walls and useless wastelands outside of them. He wondered whether this was merely an era he could wait to pass, or if the rule of the Noah had truly ended and everything would go down in flames, destroying Akuma, humans and Noah alike.

Yeah, it was sort of a pessimistic vision, and not truly approved by his family anyway. That's why he rarely talked to anyone other than Road or Sheril lately, the latter actually a politician inside the so called safe cities, though his activities would have to be cut short soon because people started noticing the high ranking minister never aged.

With those heavy thoughts in mind, he continued his tread. Opening a package of cigarettes and lighting one, he enjoyed his favorite brand. Something small seemed to move in front of him and he initially believed it to be an optical illusion created by the smoke, but then he noticed there was another person coming in his direction.

Tyki raised an eyebrow. He could vaguely see that it was an human shape – an adult, but something was off about them. He knew it wasn't an Akuma – he would be able to feel the Dark Matter even from this distance – so it had to be an exile, but…

He startled. All of a sudden, it was like a light had appeared in Tyki's 'radar'. As a Noah, he had a second vision of sorts when it came to his allies and brethren; it would activate on proximity, allowing him to feel an associate much before he met them.

And what he felt now…

Was exactly what he felt whenever another Noah was nearby.

For a moment, he pondered on whether this was some family member trying to drag his ass back to the Ark, but it would be quite atypical; they usually searched for him with Road's help, and he could feel their individual auras. Yet this one… this one was…

By the time they got close enough to see each other properly, his cigarette had fallen to the ground, forgotten. The man in front of him was as finely dressed as Tyki was. His skin was a warm, light brown, and his hair a straight, messy black. He stared ahead without a trace of hesitation or change of pace, and as he got closer, Tyki felt really strange, because it was as if… he was staring at another version of himself.

Granted, there were a few differences, but their build, facial structure and colors were quite alike, the greatest differences being their attires and the fact that the other's hair was shorter. Basically, they could easily pass off as one another, and at this proximity…

This was a Noah.

There was no way to deny that, not with this closeness, not with this strong feeling of kinship.

"…Millennium Earl?" he asked very hesitantly, because that was what this one's aura felt like; he could distinguish the individual presences of each clan member, and this one was quite familiar in its power, though with something different that made him waver.

The other man, who had been strangely mute and impassive until now, allowed his mouth to stretch into a feral smirk. "Not quite."

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

Komui finished analyzing the data collected by the interns. The objective of the Order's most recent search was to look for a pattern in Innocence accommodators. It was hardly an innovative project: the interviews and thorough investigation of friends, family members and acquaintances of the exorcists was something that was always done, despite showing little result. Only a single case of a family with more than one exorcist was recorded in history, and the attempts of forcing Innocence to accept an accommodators' relatives would usually end in wasted time and destruction – both of the experiment subject and the Order's premises. All in all, Innocence seemed to chose random people to synchronize with...

And it wasn't like the organization would discover a pattern of choice if one existed; not with Komui as the Head of the Science Department.

He carefully disposed of the sheets that suggested a predominance of Innocence manifestation to accommodators from less populated areas, leaving no evidence of them.

Finishing the analysis and writing down the usual conclusion of no association having been found, he left the whole report to be made later and studied the Order's latest development – a prototype of a device that should allow security guards to scan people's irises in order to identify them at the gates. In front of him were also the documents related to a new project of a closed circuit television system that should watch both the insides of cities and a certain perimeter around the walls. With a software that would easily record and automatically detect any sort of movement in the external environment, the cameras would be a strong defensive measure against any potential invaders.

Komui sent the first project back to the laboratory with the explanation that Akuma would very likely be able to imitate humans' irises with as much ease as they did the rest of the body, and until they actually could research one of the monsters to confirm or deny such a possibility, the development of machines that would identify a person through their eyes would be ineffective. Looking at the other proposal, however, he knew there was little he could do; the idea was truly useful, didn't need the employment of many security guards to monitor the images thanks to the intelligent software and would make it easier to keep the cities clear of invaders.

With a heavy heart, he approved the project that would surely cause many problems to the rogue exorcists who worked hard to infiltrate cities frequently, including his dear sister. His chest tightened in worry at the mere idea that this action of his had a chance of ending in Lenalee's capture, but he truly had no choice. Komui hindered projects that could hurt the group as much as he could, but if he wanted to remain in his position he needed to continue proving himself useful, and there was no plausible reason he could come up with for denying the development of such an useful technology.

He could only hope the implantation of the monitoring system would take a long time. Having finished his work for the day, he turned to more pressing matters.

"Some day I really want to understand how you do this," said the Chinese scientist, knowing ignoring a problem wouldn't make it go away.

"Heh, I've got my contacts," said the redhead hanging upside down from the high ceiling, held by a foot stuck in the chandelier. The teenager allowed himself to fall to the floor with ease, standing in front of the older man.

"Leverrier, I suppose?" asked Komui in a whim; he had a few suspicions about the man and his underlings in general.

The boy didn't seem to understand, but still looked good humored. "Nope. I don't talk to that guy."

It wasn't surprising that even without talking to Leverrier, Lavi already know about him. Komui wouldn't be surprised if the deranged exorcist had an extensive and detailed file on every person inside the Black Order. "How may I help you?" he asked finally, sitting back in his chair. Lavi occupied the one across of him, with the ease of someone who came here frequently.

"Yeah. So, I was wondering… with your recent promotion to Head Scientist, perhaps you have some sort of knowledge on the people who work or worked here?"

Komui interlaced his fingers, eyes narrowing in thought. "People? That's not what you usually ask of me, but I do have knowledge on most of the exorcists, if that is what you are looking for."

Perhaps Allen had sent Lavi to know something about an exorcist or other. A possible defector and ally?

"Great," said Lavi, as if expecting that answer. "I need the location of a certain man."

"Location? That likely won't do," said Komui without preamble, "I have data mostly about their families and the places where the people related to them can be found, plus health related documents, but I do not have clearance to know where exorcists themselves currently are – that would make no sense, since I wouldn't need that for my researching."

"Eh, surely you can do something?" asked Lavi in his usual friendly way, poking a pile of papers that threatened to fall. "It's not like I'm looking for a random person. He's a general, you see-"

"What?!"

"Hehe. Anyway, Allen really, really needs to see this person-"

"There is no way," said Komui with finality, "that I will investigate a Black Order general. I couldn't even if I wanted to!"

Lavi sighed and started folding one of the spare sheets over the desk. "Can't you come up with something? Say you found a pattern in your research that leads to the general, and request an interview with him?"

Komui took of his glasses and started massaging his temples. "I won't even ask how you know about the research," he said weakly, "and that would mean changing a general's agenda. Considering how much is demanded from them, asking for his presence would only bring an enormous attention towards myself and the project. It could even make our next interactions difficult. I don't care how good you are – you won't manage to talk to me should I ever become a suspect. The amount of surveillance on a potential traitor isn't something avoidable."

"They will allow you to interview him if you say there is a chance to find a correlation that will help in producing new exorcists," said Lavi with seriousness.

The boy was right, and he hated it. "That is true…" Komui admitted begrudgingly. "But I was trying to make the whole project seem useless. There are patterns, you see. We could reach a result, and then we will have more people being arrested and taken to forcibly synchronize. More people for you all to fight against, more… more Fallen Ones. Is this matter of such importance?"

"Yes," said Lavi, still handling the paper, "it is."

Komui sighed with resignation, before nodding and opening the folder with the files he'd recently received. "Alright. Since a mere interview would be denied, I will say I need to conduct experiments on him. I will also need to ask this of other exorcists, so as to avoid raising suspicions."

"Alright, thank you, Komui," said Lavi, getting up from his chair, leaving a detailed origami in the desk. Komui was relieved at the boy's departure – their interactions were always shorter than this, as they had to reduce the chances of being caught.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

Sitting in his chair of always, Nea had been slowly enjoying his tea. He didn't feel like drinking coffee today and, despite recent events, he felt quite pleased with himself. Just two days ago, he had an accidental meeting with a member of the Noah family. They could feel each other, yes, but only within a range of proximity; that had been an absolutely coincidence, meeting the third disciple of all people, and Nea delighted in the knowledge that the man had reincarnated just recently and wasn't quite in his prime. After a battle that mostly consisted of the older Noah throwing the inexperienced youngster around, Nea had the pleasure of opening a door in front of his defeated enemy's eyes – a door that obviously took to the Ark. He had stepped into it with a large smile, knowing it wouldn't be long before the astonished Joyd would run to his brother and inform him an unknown member of the Noah clan had not only attacked him for no apparent reason, but also had easy access to what was the place that served to the Earl as a safe house and storage of some of his most prized possessions.

If feeling Nea's presence had tormented Mana, then getting a verbal confirmation of his existence and threat would certainly drive him senseless. The very thought made his tea sweeter, and he sipped it in smug contentment.

Deep inside his pleasurable contemplations, he was surprised when someone sat in the chair across from him. He frowned – there were many free tables around, this person was beyond rude – before raising his eyes and contemplating the one who caused this disturbance.

At first, he only saw red hair. And to have a young person – a young man, red headed and sitting exactly in that place made him temporarily speechless. That shock quickly changed into deep irritation, however, not only at the inconvenient person who just decided to share his table without asking for permission, but also at his reaction at a mere hair color.

Feeling his previous ease had disappeared, he decided to down the rest of his beverage and leave. That's what he deserved, for mingling in such an useless place just in order to satisfy his ridiculous obsession. Nea started to quickly drain the hot liquid from his own mug. Having a red haired person sitting in his student's chair made him positively nauseous, and he resisted the urge to crush the boy, knowing that would erase any chance of returning here in peace.

"How many sugars, sir?" asked the waiter, ready to take note of the other's order.

The young man hummed in contemplation, before making his decision. "Perhaps seven."

Nea stilled.

"S-seven, sir?"

"Yes, please. I like my coffee somewhat sweet. Ah, and some cream. And chocolate – the warm brown, sweet kind, and add some caramel."

"Sir…"

"And a marshmallow or two. Ooh, is that honey?"

"Ugh," let out the waiter, before flushing and coughing embarrassedly in a closed fist. "Please allow me to bring a larger cup, sir, just so it all fits. One moment, please."

The waiter left, and Nea refrained from crushing his own tea cup with his tensing fingers. Just a coincidence, yes, and what a coincidence. It wasn't enough that he indulged in his pathetic memories by visiting this shop again and again – now circumstances seemed to consent to his masochistic wishes, setting a scenario that only made everything more real.

He wouldn't look at the stranger's face. Not anymore.

"Your drink is boring," remarked the intruder in the same way Allen had decades ago, and he could remember it so well he could see the scene perfectly. It had been a late afternoon, the departing sun coloring Allen's red hair locks exquisitely. His whole countenance had been warmed both by the natural light and his good humor. His clothes were the ones he used when ready to go on a mission, and though he was carrying almost nothing with himself but a few garments and a small bag, Nea knew Allen had been ready for a journey he definitely didn't approve of. To this day he felt the old annoyance bubble inside of him, tinged with regret. He should have just forced the boy to stay – shown him Nea was not only his teacher, but a master whom he had to obey. It would damage their relationship, but Allen would have lived.

"I know you think I'm making the wrong decision," continued the long haired stranger, "but it's been far too long, and we won't win without taking risks."

Nea had a small moment to wonder what this unknown lunatic was talking about, before he understood what was happening and the cup finally broke inside his hand, pieces falling to the table and hot tea scattering everywhere. Some drops were falling in the legs of his trousers, but he wasn't paying any attention. Instead, his eyes zeroed in the young man in front of him like a viper would stare at a prey, unwavering and ready to strike.

This boy…

"So please, don't be so mad at me," said he with a smile that was in the wrong face but he could still recognize.

The Noah's world spun wildly, and he wanted to puke.

"So please, don't be so mad at me", said Allen, looking peaceful in his decision, already made and unchangeable. "You are my mentor. My best friend. I owe you so very much, and you made this life of mine worth living."

Back then, he had expected the usually sentimental boy to cry. The exorcist had always been too mellow, rigid as a stone in front of the others but pitifully weak in front of Nea. Allen, however, never spilt a tear or even produced them – he had been in absolute control, sincere and tranquil.

"You are my mentor, my best friend. I owe you much and you made my life worth living," the same words also left this boy's lips, words no one else should have known.

Nea had been so angry at not being listened to. So they had had their last coffee together, Nea refusing to speak a single word and forcing upon Allen the brunt of his disapproving stare. He had hoped to move the boy, to make him go back in his intentions, but it never worked, and to this day he wished he had spoken more to Allen in what he hadn't known would be his last opportunity.

"Thank you so much for everything," Allen continued, very much like before, "I will see you soon."

Those words… the last he heard of Allen. The very last.

He heard them in his mind every day, but it couldn't be compared to listening them from a solid person, right in front of him.

"No," whispered Nea, despite himself, "you won't."

His breath was labored, hands still clenching the remains of the cup, dark red blood mixing with the tea in a color he was too disturbed to appreciate. And he felt an indescribable emotion at finally saying the words he had wanted to say to Allen. He had always wanted to tell that boy, his boy, that he wouldn't be able to come back, that he should just stay under Nea's protection and stop playing against the adults. Against Nea's brother, who would end Allen like a human who crushed an insect – without a thought.

"You are going to die," continued Nea in desperation, as if truly having a chance of travelling in time and speaking to the Allen of more than fifty years ago, "without accomplishing anything. So don't go."

Allen smiled, eyes misty with emotion.

"I should have listened to you back then. I'm so sorry, teacher."

And Nea felt such an enormous sense of accomplishment at finally managing to warn Allen. He wouldn't leave, he wouldn't confront the Millennium Earl and be reduced to a miserable, bloody corpse-

It was then that reality, cold and bitter reality got its hold over Nea once more. This was a mistake, and he was a fool. He shouldn't… shouldn't be feeling this relief. It was wrong. Wrong, because this wasn't Allen, and he wasn't telling his student anything.

Allen was still dead.

"Who are you?"

"Nea-"

He got up so suddenly the desk made a screeching noise as its legs scratched the polished floor, and the chair he was previously seating in fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

"WHO ARE YOU?!"

His wrathful scream made the other patrons' eyes widen, some in apprehension and some in fear. He paid them absolutely no mind. They didn't matter.

"Your skin… your eyes. I should have known," said the young man sadly. "Teacher, please control yourself."

He spared barely a glance at his dark grey skin, and was sure his eyes shone a hateful gold. People around then had gotten up, leaving the shop in a hurry, and he could already hear someone screaming for the police.

"We need to leave," said the stranger, "do you have the means, or should we do it the old way?"

A fist to the face was the only answer the redhead got. Fueled by raw dark matter, the strike that should have ruined his skull was instead stopped by the boy's left hand. It had grown considerably, metallic claws ruining a white glove and burning the Noah's hand.

"We can't do this here," exclaimed Al- the boy, the boy who for some reason had Allen's goddamned Innocence, before he dodged a flurry of spell cards from the Order's caster who had arrived quite fast. The chair he had been close to evaporated in a gust of slicing wind. "Do you hear me? We can't-"

"You want to leave with me, huh?" asked Nea, a deranged smile on his face as he easily deactivated a spell this time directed towards himself, making it crumble to the floor into pieces of burning, useless paper. "So be it."

The stranger seemed relieved at Nea's words, before his eyes widened when Nea's portal opened horizontally in the very floor beneath his feet. He fell to the Ark with a cry of surprise, and Nea jumped after him, the door closing behind them both with a slam, leaving the astounded humans and their commotion behind.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

A/N: So… yes. The meeting was mostly postponed to the next chapter because I needed to progress in other areas, and I think Allen's "talk" with Nea will be quite an ordeal to write, haha. As per usual, I'll try my best. Please leave a review.