Yes. I'm alive.
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January 5, 2023
Chapter 4
Cathedral
Ward
"What is going on?" James voice was laced with concern.
Lisa had developed nerves of steel during her time as an undergraduate. When you have professors hard to entertain, you'd have no better choice but to harden your heart for your thesis presentation. Yes, had her past self would be in her shoes, she'd melt into a mound of sweat.
Because while Jean ordered her to summon him, Lisa strongly disagreed with the decision. If the Fatui were to become aware of James' existence, that would likely make him a target. Why wouldn't they be curious about him, just as anyone would be?
If they'd be willing to sacrifice their public face just to get their hands on some sky-fallen "artifact", then what kind of a person would warrant such an order? Some power-crazed psychopath who abuse their power? Such a description wouldn't be a far-fitting label for the Fatui, but they don't cross any lines without schemes laid in advance.
"Uhh, Lisa?"
And if Jean would have known what Lisa has learned, she would have hesitated to allow a potentially unstable killer to make contact with an infamous faction. That's a formula for conflict. The possibility that James might take some sort of disagreeable action against the Fatui brings great anxiety to Lisa. After all, local norms would mean nothing to a foreigner, and Lisa doubts she has the time to explain what he shouldn't do.
Time is ticking.
She felt obligated to go against her orders... but Lisa can't keep James like some detained criminal. Regardless of the truth behind his words, he has the right to see to his belongings and have a say in this mess.
"James... promise me you wouldn't cause trouble."
"What?"
Whatever happens, happens.
Mondstadt
James had no time to be enamored with the sight as he broke outside of the cathedral's giant doors.
He had no time to appreciate the giant statue, no time to sightsee the wonderful architecture, no time to stop and take a breath of the fresh air. And no time to stop for the guards who saw a suspicious figure running like some lunatic out for blood.
In a way, he was out for blood.
"Hey! Stop!"
"He's running for the gates!"
James hopped over the fence and jumped down the ledge tens of meters high up and somersault on the brick floor to soften the landing. The guards who chased stopped on the edge and stared with bizarre looks, as he kept running and jumping using strange yet amazing movements you'd see in circus acrobatics to maneuver through the city.
"Should we... go after him?"
"You think we can?"
Parkour was one of the talents he developed in the rims. It all started jumping over and behind sandbags or barricades for cover, and doing so through many battles, he developed some moves that served him well.
"James! Wait!"
Lisa jumped past the guards and deployed her glider. As she falls like a feather, she could see from the distance how far James is already close to the main gate.
By the Archons. He's fast!
It was mightily impressive for someone donned in full armor. Bystanders cleared the way and screamed at the sight of an armored figure seemingly bulldozing through the cobblestone streets, but he swerved left and right to avoid ramming anything and anyone.
He stepped outside the castle gates - the guards standing by looking stupefied - as he saw the commotion from a distance with his eye implants. That prompted him to run. Faster. As fast as his bionic augmentations can let him. There were no obstructions this time to slow him on the open dirt path and grass patches.
"Excuse me! Excuse me! Get your ass on the side! Move!"
The loud outlandish scream has stolen everyone's attention, more so the language being alien to the ears who had heard. Outermost to the crowd, the ordinary people turned to see a white figure fully armored running at great speed thought inhumane. Those who took notice split from the crowd and gave way simply from fear as one would meet a maddened bull, an action others followed too as the figure nears.
James slowed his running and walked through the path that the masses made. They gawk like children seeing a dog for the first time as he slow-jogged through. His bionic ears pick up chatters of curiosity judging from the tone. He didn't like public attention, but he got something that concerned him more.
"Fucking primeval shits. Oi!"
As he nears, he sees the familiar people from earlier, colleagues or friends of Lisa, whoever they are, standing in a line looking at him with complicated expressions. He took notice of the other party - from their uniform alone, they are of another group or faction. Whoever they are or whatever hole they came from, he didn't appreciate that they are salvaging his only possible escape on this planet and plundering his belongings.
His bloodstream flowed with rage at the thought of his ship ripped apart by vultures.
"HEY FUCK OFF! THAT'S MY SHIP!"
Jean stepped to intervene.
"N-no, sir. Please!"
She stepped between with placating gestures. The knights sensed trouble with the sudden appearance, pressuring the public to disperse. The present captains - Kaeya, Albedo, Eula - tensely stood, chest stiffly breathing, expecting the worst for their alien guest. Without ideas or initiative, they could only leave this matter to their leader.
"Lisa! Just give us a moment and wait..." She knew her words are meaningless, but mentioning her name should hopefully have an effect. Jean did not expect him to be here without Lisa following.
She regretted having to summon him. Having contact with the Fatui is dangerous, even for innocent travelers, hence why she wanted him stand by his side as a way to represent herself as his guardian.
The presence of a Harbinger was unexpected.
She cannot place blame if he were to do what she believes he'll do.
If he chooses to bring violence upon the harbinger... then that's it for him.
And what will she do? If the Knights of Favonius sided with him, there'd be political tensions for supporting an aggressor against a harbinger. Meanwhile, if they play as a bystander, the delegations might use that to smear their name and accuse letting an aggessor loose. In that regard, it should be obvious which side would avoid conflict with her city.
She would be ashamed if she were to resort to... inhospitalities to their guest.
"Step aside." Dottore shoved the blonde woman aside, drawing ire from everyone, as he eyed the man with an intense gaze. The foreign design of the armor tickled his curiosity. The glass visor. The odd trinkets. The white platings atop the coal-colored weave. It was a full body armor with no holes to offer, offering no gap for any blade or spear to molest. He's never seen such an armor before. The design are begging to be studied.
Dottore must have it.
"Stop staring at me like that."
James felt the scrutinizing gaze of this masked weirdo. The way this person was deeply boring his red eyes in his armor was unsettling, as it made him feel he was only a mannequin meant to be displayed for window shopping.
Psychopaths. He's met a lot of people. He knows that kind of stare.
"Hey, asshat. That's mine." James pointed at Dottore's hand, holding a silver and white trinket that is the healer mech serum. "I don't know who the fuck you are but you can't just be taking my stuff."
"Hmm... Curious. That language. I can recognize some words. I vaguely recall my linguistics professors who similarly spoke such things as a demonstration." Dottore boasted. "They claim it's a primordial tongue that takes roots since the arrival of man, and our modern tongue is but a result of centuries of divergence from the original... a bastardized version no more."
He sighed mid-sentence, stopping to his thoughts and cupping his chin. "Ugh, If I knew my fate would lead me to meet you, maybe I wouldn't have dropped their subject before I was expelled. But... if it is true as they said... just what does that make you?"
James switched to many vision modes to inspect the guy. His archotech eye could see through many things, and nothing can escape past his gaze.
Suffice to say, this person wasn't completely organic.
"... You know what - fuck this. You know it's not yours. Just give me my shit back, creep."
James tried to grab his item back from The Doctor, and the stomach-dropping act has made Jean's body cold. The Doctor summoned two floating lances, both short and stout with glowing blue tips. James, who was suddenly in question what those was, was rammed and knocked off his feet and sent flying through the air by the powerful acceleration and force of the impact.
James crashed to the ground, his EVA suit's chest plates chipped and scratched. The crowd gasped in shock and some quick-witted people started to run in panic, and soon others follow. The Favonius guards on duty drew their weapons, but they waited for orders from the acting grand master with cold sweat in their face. In response, the Fatui soldiers formed a semi-circle behind The Doctor, brandishing their weapons menacingly.
"The fuck." James managed to push himself to his feet, feeling his body sensors and artificial combat glands flood him with combat hormones and nanites. He had learned that sub-spatial storage often meant that someone had obtained something from the Archotechs.
Which means this wouldn't be easy.
The Doctor chuckled, amused that the impact had not knocked James unconscious, that his armor managed to withstand the attack. He wanted the armor intact and its wearer alive, but it would be inconvenient to carry an unwilling, conscious subject.
"You!" Jean stepped towards the other captains, resisting the urge to summon her sword and gesturing for them to do the same as she held out a palm facing down. "What did you-"
"As you have seen, he was reaching for this... weapon." The Doctor waved the trinket. "I'm merely acting in self-defense."
Jean gritted her teeth, her eyes kept switching between the floating devices, James, and The Doctor. "He was just trying to get his belongings back from you!"
"Fools. Only he knows it's true purpose. I can't take any chances. And you." The Doctor gestured to one of his personal guards. "Take him away."
The Doctor was intrigued by the odd machines, curious trinkets, and the mysterious, live subject in front of him. Of many segments, he at the time was the nearest in Mondstadt, and he tasked to collect samples from the flying lizard when he was informed of its appearance. But when the loose dragon was somehow taken care of by an odd traveler with an odd fairy, the news came a little too late for the curious Dottore who thought the trip to be a waste.
Though that mattered little, when he had stumbled upon something even more valuable.
A muscular Fatui soldier clad in violet, standing eight feet tall while wielding an electrohammer cackling with lightning, approached James.
James stood his ground, analyzing the enemy soldiers and noting their armaments and physical characteristics. Few of them armed with launchers of some sort, some kind of staff, and few rifles. He saw no signs of cybernetic enhancements - at least on the surface if their masks might be integrated to an extent - but obviously they all had undergone some sort of gene modification.
He felt vulnerable without a gun. While competent throwing a punch, he preferred zipping around the battlefield with a jump pack to ambush the unsuspecting. He could have mastered the blade, but melee has its own set of risks. Friendly fire, getting kidnapped, narrowed spatial awareness. Close combat is incongruent to his skills as a gunsmith and a shooter, and his role as the colony's crafter and engineer.
So as one of the most important members of their colony, everyone had insisted on buying him a melee skilltrainer to be more than good enough to escape any scuffle. He did have close calls that led to a development of his trigger-happy attitude, and such experiences have made James adopt a combat dogma.
Always fight like a cornered rat, because you might get cornered anyways.
All-in.
All-out.
Always.
He psycasted a stun at the enemy soldier, who froze in confusion. A psycast stun sustains for three seconds, usually, and James wasted no opportunity to launch himself forward at high speed, using his momentum to twist his body and deliver a powerful punch with his cybernetic fist to the soldier's neck. The impact broke snapped the cervical spine with a loud crack.
The Electrohammer Vanguard lost his grip on his giant hammer, fell on his knees lifelessly. James glanced around at the witnesses' reaction. Everyone stared with disbelief - even the usually analytical Doctor.
James learned that surviving on the rims meant you had to be somewhat of a bloodthirsty psychopath. He didn't like to mess around... but there were times when he liked to send a message. He prepared a fist - he twist his body back and he threw a powerful punch to the head of the kneeling, breathless body as its skull explode into fragments and pulverized the flesh into bits. The victim's mask thunked behind.
Blood spilled from the ripped-open neck.
The headless corpse lay motionless on the ground, a gruesome sight for all to see. As the masked enemies stared at the body in shock, James saw an opportunity. In a flash, he grabbed a pebble and, and threw it at The Doctor with lightning speed.
The rock hit The Doctor square in the head, causing him to flinch. James noticed a brief flash of white-blue light, as if a force field had absorbed the impact. He had seen bullets bounce off the shield belts of some users before, but he didn't see any bulky device around The Doctor's waist.
Could be an implant.
"You bastard! How dare you?!" The Doctor scowled at James's audacious attempt to attack him, a proud Harbinger! The soldiers snapped out of their shock, raising their weapons at James as they absorbed the fact that their comrade had been killed ruthlessly, and what had been done to their superior. The Snezhnayan diplomats and non-combatants, fearing a conflict, thought it best to run and seek safety elsewhere.
They chose the right option.
"Do you have any idea what you-" The Doctor threatened.
Wasting no second, he dashed forward.
It was his best interest to retrieve his items. As precaution of crash landing on a place unreachable from his colony, they had provided him the necessities to survive long term - with enough to even kickstart a small colony. Components, medicines, drugs, materials, etc.
Weapons included.
The Fatui soldiers charged forth ready to die for their duty. An Anemo Boxer took the vanguard and crossed his arms to summon a bluish force field with a Fatui insignia. James assumed he couldn't punch through that - but it didn't matter as he dashed left.
"Fools!" Dottore's floating lances charged as they shot beams of light. "Guard the crates!"
The light bullets James assumed to be charged munitions caused him to distance from the group. Few shots hit as it chipped off his armor plating.
Dottore jumped on the crate pile to gain high ground as the skirmishers surrounded. The Geobracers' shot giant, yellow shining projectiles as the Pyroslingers joined the firefight burning the field with fireballs, keeping their frustrations clouding their aim as none of their shots land.
One did hit James to the shoulders - and it did nothing as the ball of flame dissipated. Pointless as it was, they insisted firing.
He'd laugh if he had the moment. His EVA suit is built to handle extreme radiation including heat. He was expecting bullets, but with their firearms, he had less concerns. The main problems are those floating charge lances he assumed are combat drones, and those rock throwing psycasters. Sure, he could just charge in, let his suit take the torture, punch the guy, but then he'd get ganged by the others with whatever abilities they've yet to demonstrate.
But would it matter if they'll have time to react?
He picked the closest target - the guy with the gauntlets.
His eye implant highlighted a path for him to dodge everything, as James weaved through the projectiles. Before the Anemoboxer would cross arms, James threw a hook to the solar plexus and an uppercut to the jaw with his other arm. The Anemoboxer fell to the side as Dottore aimed his weapon at James. James leapt back, narrowly dodging the shot that hit the spot where his foot used to be.
Despite not being a melee specialist, James compensated with his speed and cybernetics, weaving his way through the enemy soldiers and throwing as many punches as he could. His Archotech eye assisted him greatly in his streak, with its internal subpersona AI showing which steps to take, where to hit, and where to move.
As if an angel of death was guiding him through the fray step by step.
However, James was caught off guard when a Cryogunner froze the surroundings. He dashed away and ran around erratically, dodging the ranged attacks. In the brief assault, James managed to incapacitate or unknowingly kill most of the Fatui soldiers, leaving only a handful standing.
It was insulting to Dottore.
Dottore had devoted his life to close the gap between man and god through alchemy and engineering. He was a genius beyond compare and had yet to meet anyone who could challenge his pioneering achievements. Through countless hours of research and development, he had "single-handedly" uplifted Snezhnaya's military might with his many contributions.
His soldiers, the finest that Snezhnaya had to offer, who were bred, modified, and armed to be the best they could be, were a reflection of his research and applications.
Yet all of this meant nothing to the single man who stood before him.
"Cease this nonsense!" Dottore demanded, summoning more of his floating lances in all manner of variety. They number like dozens, floating above their user, undulating like bees. The Doctor waved an arm and the lances bombarded the field with loud and destructive bolts. He no longer cared if he could capture the subject alive. This farce had gone on long enough.
An explosion behind him pushed James off balance, but he instinctively recovered with a forward roll. He could feel the force of the explosion behind and the ground quaking beneath him. He kicked the ground forward and sprinted at random directions with inhumane speed.
James fought a walking armory before, but this one wasn't comparable to the worst he has fought. The explosive projectiles were foreseeable in his eyes, as if they're attack patterns designed to be predictable in a videogame.
Colorful explosions shook the world.
James thought his options.
A direct approach would be suicide given the heavy fire. He could tire out his enemies, make them come for him. But since they're guarding his belongings with their lives, he doubted they could be baited. They're ignorant of the crates' contents, but they knew that he needed it.
Retreating and waiting for nightfall to strike would be a viable option, but it would mean facing whatever dangers and troubles before then. He was alone and he doubted that he could simply ask Lisa and her friends for help.
He had no choice. He had to retrieve his belongings ASAP then find his own place to build a base and solidify his foundations.
While running, he noticed one of the brown and yellow-coated psycasters limping on one leg. The staff-wielding man prepared an attack.
James thought of a plan.
The Geobracer shot a yellow melon-sized projectile at him. Rather than dodging, James ran towards the rock's trajectory and caught the oversized crystal with a pained huff.
James threw the rock at Dottore like a baseball.
Hard.
Dottore aimed all of his weapons at the incoming rock. While confident that his invisible elemental shield will hold, the rock flying to him blocked his sight of James, and James knew of this blind spot. The lances shot and shattered the projectile into dust - revealing James behind who dashed through the air with a jumpkick.
Dottore's chest felt the force of the armored foot as he was thrown off the crate pile. His back loudly thudding on the crashed metal craft. He tried to recover from the impact, while James grabbed one of the black armored case. A Cryogunner close by sprayed icy mist thinking to freeze James, but he was able to escape with the crate in hand, albeit feeling his cybernetics slightly strained. The joints and in-betweens of his EVA suit must've been frosted, but that mattered little.
He didn't need to run far anyways.
James flipped the case cover open to reveal an R-15 Charge Rifle inside, already primed and loaded with 6x24 mm Charged cartridge. He pulled and shouldered the gun then dropped the case that thudded on the grass.
He sprayed at full auto at the remaining Fatui skirmishers. From the Fatui's perspective, all they heard were ungodly and otherworldly noises - they all failed to recognize the carnage brought upon them. The supersonic pulse-charge munitions all exploded upon contact as it all tore bodies apart.
It was a massacre.
What finished the fight was a few seconds to empty half the magazine.
He stopped firing. None stood. None survived. All of them either downed or dead in a growing pool of blood. Some had their legs or arms torn off. Some both. Some had their heads blown into nothing. Some were reduced into an unrecognizable... sight.
The green field was now painted with dark red, bodies, and death.
"And that's why you wear armor," James said matter-of-factly, with no trace of mockery or belittlement in his tone. He simply stated his opinion with boredom, indifferent to what he had done. He thought, These people had the luxury to look fabulous, but not the luxury of personal protection.
Then again, armor effective against charge munitions was hard to come by, and it was a reasonable assumption that any local may not have even seen charge firearms before. But as he looked around for anyone who might still be looking to fight, now they know. From a distance, he saw the crowd and the Mondstadt knights and captains standing in silence, no doubt unsure of what to make of the situation.
James can imagine what was going through their minds. Their reaction was not different from tribals first time shooting a gun. But that wasn't his concern right now. He had a more pressing matter to attend to with the last remaining opponent.
Dottore was rummaging on his legs, recovering from the pain. That kick was powerful, as was his crash on the metal surface. He hissed in anger with a feral scowl, baring his teeth like a wild animal. His floating lances could barely stay afloat... and barely able to aim.
James grabbed one of the spare magazines inside the case, the one with a blue label. Ion rounds. Essentially EMP ammunition, they're effective against electronics, mechanoids, and energy shields.
Perfect against a guy made up of weird gizmos.
Ion rounds were designed to destroy electronics or robotic beings, not to kill organics.
After switching magazines, he aimed the rifle to destroy, if not disable, the lances. They were interesting, and he saw fit to take them as trophies as intact as possible.
As they hit, the bullets made blue pulses and sputters of lighting, as they all fell one after another, shot after shot. Dottore's eyes lost confidence as his devices lay motionless, dropping on the ground like chandeliers cut off from the ceiling with heavy thuds.
His lips twisted in fear as James aimed the strange firearm - the same one that tore his soldiers apart.
"You... you! Do you know who I-"
James shot at controlled burst. Dottore's personal elemental shield received everything. It flickered out of near failure, then shattered like plates where some rounds hit his shoulders - the burst ripped a spot on his clothing that burned his skin, and the electrical burns stung.
"No! I order you to stop! I am a Snezhnayan diplomat!" The Doctor demanded, forgetting James' foreign tongue out of dread. "The Fatui will- No! No! Stay - Agh!"
He continued to fire round after round at the harbinger, tearing holes in his outfit and reducing him to a pitiable sight. With each shot, he twitched in seizure.
James did not stop shooting, wanting to take no chances.
"Ack! Agh! Stop! I order you to-" Dottore let out a raspy gasp as a round struck his head, burning and shearing off a part of his skin. As he slumped to the ground, his strange mask fell from his face, revealing a defeated and teary expression. "You... dare..."
After another pull of a trigger, and nothing came out.
A whole mag, and he's still not dead. James thought with little regret, his rifle ran out of ammo. Charge munitions weren't cheap, material wise. Mmm... ah it's not like I need a gun anymore to finish this guy.
James approached the wreckage of the ship, towards Dottore who was lying on his back on the hull of the crashed vessel.
Suddenly, James stopped when he heard a raspy gasp. He saw a Pyroslinger lying on the ground, bleeding profusely from their wounds. His uniform is ruined with the torn holes. The person's right leg had been blown off and their left shoulder was ripped apart. The man's breath were shallow and labored.
He was dying.
The sight reminded James of just how deadly pulse-charge munitions can be and the importance of wearing good armor.
The man's visor with a glowing red eye met his.
James sympathized. He knew what it was like bleeding for hours until death. The only difference between him and the poor sod was that his colony had spare resurrector mech serums. James granted the man peace, as he kicked down the Pyroslinger's head into paste. They were all soldiers, doing what they were told. Ending their prolonged suffering was the least he could do.
He brought all his attention to the man who started it all.
"No... stay away... stay away! I yield! I yield!"
Step by step, Dottore, a mere segment and one of many, felt his life drain out of his soul. He did his very best to stand, his body begging to run away as far as he can. His instincts yelled for him to stand, but his legs struggled to even bend. As a segment with a consciousness fitted inside an artificial body, a full body prosthetic, his physicality is levelled above the standards even for Vision users... but there was something about the bullets that ruined his internal parts.
The best he could do was limp on one leg as he leaned on the sheet metal, strong as a baby striving for balance.
"No no no! Get away from me!"
But before James took another step, a figure stepped in between the two. The one that blocked James' sight of Dottore, was one of the people he met earlier inside the cathedral.
Jean Gunnhildr.
In her mind, she worries about the potential political consequences if a harbinger were killed in Mondstadt. The Acting Grand Master was already dealing with the difficulties of handling aggressive diplomats from the Snezhnaya, and the thought of the entire nation turning against her home filled her with dread. The Acting Grand Master struggled to maintain a friendly demeanor, suppressing the urge to draw her sword.
Her mind was in a dilemma.
James was innocent. That, she believed. He was rightfully fighting for his belongings against an organization known many misconduct. The Fatui was in the wrong, but the way they were all subjected to brutality... the way how some were executed... how James massacred them all leaving but one. Her mind replayed the fight again and again to remind her fighting should be her last, desperate choice. Beads of cold sweat dripped from the Acting Grand Master's forehead and chin, her intense gaze failing to hide her fear.
After a few seconds, James decided to take a few slow steps back - much to Jean's brief relief - to gesture that he didn't want to fight her. Especially not to the people who treated him right. Or at least, not to the people who would think twice making an enemy out of him. Unknowing what to do, he decided to wait for Lisa to arrive before taking any action.
"Speaking off." He muttered.
Lisa broke through the crowds, panting and heaving. Her fatigue and tired breath seemed to have replaced by disbelief the moment she saw everything. Her eyes dart around the scene to make sense of what transpired.
"W-what did you..." The corpses. The battle-torn fields. The blood puddles and torn bodies. And the particular harbinger injured beyond recognition. "... do?"
End
Edit (March 29, 2023) - so yeah. Adjusted some stuff. Nothing plot breaking. It has something to do with my note in the edit I wrote last chapter.
April 16, 2023 - edits edits and edits. I shortened some sentences especially in the fight scene. I reworded some stuff. Added some stuff... and
and some other stuff. Had to make careful considerations.
It's not a complete rewrite, but I rewrote some stuff for the sake of readability. I avoided rereading this because... well, it's like listening to your voice recording. It's cringe. But after some while, I decided to reread it and reworked for self improvement.
Oh god why did I write a lot of stuff in fight scenes where it's supposed to be concise? I mean, fight scene are fast paced and making it wordy and all just...
Eh.
I should just let go of it. This is a test bed for me after all and yaddi yadda.
April 26, 2023 - slight edits... again.
Edited most parts around the "all-in, all-out" part.
Edit: Some of yall think there's something off about one of the top harbingers being beaten by some random guy with a space gun. But then you gotta remember. Dude got clones of himself. So you can rightfully assume the one beaten ain't the strongest for believability's sake.
Ugh. Feeling burnt out.
So what upppppp.
And just so anyone knows, the Dottore in this story is currently the guy you see in the manga. The lances and appearance are basically what's shown in it. Anyways. My brain is burnt pretty much. It's hard writing fight scenes. Had to use ChatGPT to revise some stuff. AI is just so cool.
I know it's been a while since the last chapter... and I think I failed my exam. I know I promised weekly chapters in the prologues. But yehhhhh I procrastinated a lot playing Rimworld. I failed to keep my promise. I failed to keep up with my streak. I failed in my consistency.
Sigh.
Sorry.
Speaking of Rimworld, just know that the time I'm building and writing the concept for this story, I was playing version 1.3. So do understand that 1.4 content wouldn't be shown in this story, but might only appear as references. Until a looot of mods I'm playing with are to be updated to 1.4, and the anticipated vanilla vehicles expanded to be released, I'll stick playing 1.3.
And boy. A 5K chapter. That's a new record for me.
Sooo... what do ya'll think? Ya'll been silent and reviews feeling dry. I wanna improve as an writer and I was kinda hoping for criticisms since I posted this story.
Anyways. Bye.