Only the terror in her father's eyes kept Kallen obedient. She wanted to rage and scream at him for his betrayal. Instead, she quietly accepted the knightmare lessons, focusing on honing her skills so she would finally be able to defeat that ineffable white knightmare.
The training did help, even as it angered her to know that she had fought the white pilot at such a disadvantage.
A particular strong kick sent the heavy bag swinging, and she wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. As long as she focused on improving her own strength, the advantage Britannia would gain was minimal.
It was practically training sponsored by the enemy! She would be a fool to reject it.
The words felt hollow.
"Hello," interrupted a young voice.
Kallen paused, glancing around the gym before her gaze finally sank to a young girl with pink hair and mature red eyes. "Hello?"
"Your form is inefficient," she critiqued. "You need to twist your back foot to get a full pivot. All your energy is being driven into your knees. You will injure yourself eventually. And when you punch, stop having your heel leave the ground, focus on driving the rotation of your hips instead."
"I'm sorry… Who are you?"
The girl blinked. "You are Kallen Stadtfeld."
"Yes? And you?"
"The Knight of Six." She tilted her head. "We should spar."
"Aren't you like eight?" Kallen asked, bemused. "I can't spar with you."
"Fourteen, actually. I think Charlie wouldn't like it though if I marred your pretty face. It is always tedious when he is put out."
"Charlie?" Kallen mouthed.
"Unfortunately putting an unrepentant traitor into a knightmare is out of the question. It's a shame, I do hate the simulators. They are so limited."
"Are you some sort of knightmare prodigy?" Kallen asked, grasping on the one thread that made a modicum of sense.
"A crippled prodigy and therefore a pitifully average one. That's the problem with distinctive styles. They throw you in a machine that is your complete opposite so it isn't painfully obvious. It's not fair at all."
Kallen stared as the girl abruptly wandered off. She didn't talk like an eight year old. But she definitely didn't speak like any fourteen year old Kallen had met either? Was she a very short woman with a warped humor instead? Or maybe this was a fourteen year old's idea of a prank.
The girl, hands on her hips, turned around. "Are you coming or not?"
Grabbing her thin jacket, Kallen raced after her and away from the area of the palace she knew. There was absolutely no way she was a Knight of a Round, which meant she was either a servant or, judging from the way she carried herself, royalty.
"So how is Lulu?" the girl asked cheerfully, breaking into a half skip.
The only person she had ever heard using that nickname was Shirley. "You mean Lelouch?"
"Yup. Isn't he cute? Bismarck told me he looked so surprised when he heard the announcement. I wish I could've seen it."
"He's fine?" Kallen floundered for a better reply.
The girl laughed. "You're blushing."
"We're not dating!" Kallen snapped.
"I didn't say you were." Her eyes crinkled, and she skipped ahead. "How are you adjusting to the palace? It has to be a considerable shock."
"I would rather be home," Kallen said bluntly.
"If only we could all get what we want," she said, a strange note of melancholy to her voice. "Is there anything you need, my dear?"
How old was the girl—woman?
"You just need to ask."
Stopping, Kallen crossed her arms. "Can you get me out of this shithole? No? Then there's nothing you can do for me."
"Temper, temper," she tutted, although her eyes betrayed her amusement. "A shithole is a new way to describe the palace. I was always fond of 'a den of vipers'. When you're nothing, it most certainly is a shithole. But when you sit at the top? Well, you have the privilege of creating shit."
"Is that supposed to be inspirational or something?"
"I have been told in the past I have a way with words." She sniffed. "But let's go. Dawdling in hallways creates too much palace gossip. That is the real beast here."
"And where are we going?" Kallen asked.
The strange woman hummed, not answering her question, simply setting a new brisk pace.
"Is it—" Kallen groaned. "You said I could ask, right?"
"So there is something you want? Well, one that is perhaps possible."
"I—I need to talk to Lelouch," Kallen admitted. She needed to ask him if it had all been a lie. She needed to know why he fought against Britannia. She needed to know what he would do now.
The woman stopped before a rather plain door, her expression contemplative. Finally, she nodded. "I will put in a word for you if you behave."
"Beha—?"
Kallen's stomach fell to the floor as the door opened, revealing the Emperor sitting behind a desk. Her feet stumbled backwards, but a strong grasp captured her hands, pulling her into the lion's den.
"Your Majesty," the woman greeted, crossing her arm before her chest in an aborted knight's bow.
"Anya," he acknowledged. "You brought her."
The Emperor's gaze swung to her, and Kallen's knees locked under the weight of his gaze. His health was clearly failing, but he had not lost his power yet. With great effort, she forced herself to meet his eyes and stare defiantly.
She was biding her time, not broken.
Anya sighed. "Respect, child." Her leg lashed out, sweeping her feet from beneath her.
Stifling a pained cry, Kallen barely caught herself before she kissed the ground. Her forearm throbbed from the impact, and she twisted her head to shoot the woman a bitter glare.
"Mar—Gentle." The Emperor sighed. "Her father is going to complain if she returns to their rooms covered in bruises."
"A little fall never hurt anyone." Anya's hand dug into her shoulder. "Now, kneel girl. He is still your Emperor."
"He is not—" Pain erupted as Anya dragged her shoulders back and drove a knee against her spine. The Emperor watched impassively. "I'll kneel," Kallen rasped. "I'll kneel."
The pressure abated, and Kallen glared venomously as she adopted the proper form.
"See, she can behave," Anya said cheerfully. "Her father is far too lenient."
The Emperor massaged his forehead. "You are worse than Bradley sometimes, you know that? I asked you to invite her, not ambush her."
Anya pouted. "She wouldn't have come."
"Next time I will give the task to Gino."
"But I haven't grilled her about Lulu yet!"
"Then maybe you should try the soft approach instead of terrifying her."
What in the world was happening? People did not argue with the Emperor, much less strange women in overly familiar tones.
"You can just fix her anyway," Anya said. "There is no real reason to go through this entire farce. She is a good pilot. Just put her to work and be done with it."
Kallen flinched. Something about how simple it was in Anya's mind set alarm bells ringing. Her father's fearful eyes surged to the front of her mind. The Emperor had ways of forcing her compliance.
"Do you wish to unnecessarily antagonize Lelouch?" the Emperor countered. "Besides, it would be a poor way to repay Stephen's loyalty. He should be allowed some leeway."
"Why am I here?" Kallen interrupted before their bizarre argument could escalate further. She cringed under their reproachful looks and hastily added, "Your Majesty."
Raising a hand, he silenced Anya as he studied her for a minute. "Your training will continue under Anya's tutelage. A more appropriate etiquette instructor will be found for next week."
"I can teach etiquette," Anya protested.
"You have no etiquette." The Emperor glared at her before continuing. "Your father may use the remaining evening to educate you as he wishes."
"And if I refuse?" Kallen asked.
His smile terrified her. "When you prove yourself a good daughter, your father will finally attain the rank of an earl."
"Play nice for a week, and you may have a chat with Lulu," Anya chimed in.
"He was rather concerned about your absence."
A week. She would play along. If Lelouch truly was Zero, then perhaps he could fashion a miracle to save her from this hell.
If not, she would find out exactly how the Emperor intended to deal with her unrepentant treason.
"A letter, Ms. Kaguya," the servant announced.
Setting down her tea, Kaguya accepted the letter on the platter and stared at the crisp handwriting with no hint regarding who had sent it. "How did it come in?"
The servant fidgeted. "One of the maids passed it to me."
She wanted to ask whether the servant was Japanese or not, but such questions could be dangerous, if wrongly interpreted. Only in the rare visits to the Sakuradite mines could she escape the overbearing presence of her Britannian minders. They were looking for any excuse to condemn her for treason.
"Is it safe?" she finally settled on, making sure the lilt of her voice implied childlike concern. They could never suspect that she was something more than a stupid child who didn't need to be watched too closely.
"Of course it is," the servant dismissed. "Why would anyone attack you, dear?"
Kaguya rolled her eyes. Why would anyone attack the so-called Princess of Japan?
Setting aside her unease, she covered her hand in a handkerchief and broke the emerald seal. Inside, was a letter: typed. The envelope suggested the sender came from affluence. The printed pages suggested a low-ranked commoner.
Curiosity piqued, she carefully unfolded the letter and flipped to the bottom of the last page. There, typed in the same plain font, was a simple name: Nunnally.
She leaned back, a smile tugging at her lips. There was only one Nunnally who would think to write to her.
Kaguya remembered her from the childhood haze of memories. She had always been unassuming, hiding in her brother's shadows. It was a shame that her father's nationalist sentiment prevented her from befriending either of them. That would have served her well now.
Still, there had been no mention of Crown Prince Lelouch's younger sister during the announcement.
"Some green tea," Kaguya ordered the servant as she reordered the papers.
"Yes, ma'am. Who is it from?"
"A student. I imagine they're interested in securing one of those coveted internships." Kaguya laughed mockingly. "They couldn't even be bothered to write it out properly."
"Most unseemly," the servant agreed. "I will bring your tea, ma'am."
Sighing, Kaguya settled back in her armchair for a rather lengthy read. The beginning was a standard greeting, oddly respectful. A royal had no need to take such a tone with an Honorary Britannian.
"Your tea," the servant announced.
Kaguya waved her absently away and grabbed the cup. Then, things became interesting. Nunnally wrote of the invasion, contradicting the ludicrous story the Emperor had televised. Her stomach churned uneasily. If she was caught with such a treasonous letter in her possession…
The Emperor hadn't recognized her when he announced Lelouch as his successor. Nunnally remained legally dead, without any power to her name.
And there was the reason for the letter. A plea for help.
She feared her brother would be a puppet king.
"What does she expect me to do?" Kaguya asked quietly. To the world, she was just a naive little child filled with romantic fantasies. Her guardians handled the finances of Sumeragi Industries. No one should think she was capable of anything.
Then she had to suspect her as a member of the Kyoto House. No plea would convince them to assist the next Britannian Emperor. Already plans were being laid to take advantage of the future Emperor's lax security. Their European and Chinese liaisons had loosened their purses, weapons flowing more freely than ever. Vengeance guided their hands; they all wanted the Heir Apparent's head, a symbol of Britannian infirmity.
Even Zero, the self-proclaimed symbol of justice, was mobilizing. It would be a race to see who could behead the Crown Prince first.
Had Kaguya been asked, she would've advised prudence. A sudden declaration of an heir suggested the Emperor was frail. Their focus would be better focused there than on a boy still confined to school. A young boy who could maybe be persuaded to sympathize with their plight.
She sighed. It did not matter. She had not been asked. Tohdoh was the only one who seemed content to watch for a little bit longer. Already, he was being called a coward for it.
Why had Nunnally written to her? Surely, she was not that naive.
My brother was unable to protect Suzaku from Bismarck's men. They are close friends, and the incident upset him greatly. He only calmed when he had the opportunity to request that Euphemia intercede on his behalf. I imagine he may regret that decision soon as he remains blissfully unaware of their mutual affection.
Suzaku…
Kaguya groaned, massaging her forehead. He always brought trouble. First running off to become an Honorary Britannian soldier. Now, wooing a princess? What an idiot.
Viceroy Cornelia would personally behead him if she caught him looking at her sister with ill intention. If her cousin was a smarter man, she would praise him for this plot. The sister of the Goddess of Victory tied to their side.
Unfortunately, her cousin was an idiot. The fools were in love.
Kaguya frowned, restarting the paragraph. And Crown Prince Lelouch was only so in name, a puppet to the Emperor's Fist.
So Nunally was not asking out of naivety but pure desperation.
The sakura blossom in our backyard has wilted in its walled garden, much to my and my brother's great distress. I understand you have some knowledge of such matters, and we would welcome such assistance with open arms. Do not ponder the problem too long for I fear its time is short.
"Huh." Kaguya pulled out her lighter and set the bottom edges aflame.
The servant would be suspicious, but she would only be able to report groundless theories. The content would condemn far too many.
Finishing her tea, she stared out the window and across the city of Tokyo. If she were to take Nunnally's request and unsheathe her claws, then she would need concessions of some sort.
They knew nothing of each other, only vague childhood impressions. She needed assurances. But if she pursued this gamble, Japan could have a relatively bloodless liberation. Zero's promise was far more substantive and compelling: the destruction of the Britannian Empire.
Her fingers steadily drummed on the windowsill as the maid returned and exclaimed in dismay over the ashes.
Smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt, Milly avoided her parents' eyes as they waited for the family meeting to begin. She was surprised that it had taken nearly a week for it to happen, but then her grandfather had been busy, fielding Viceroy Cornelia and the Knight of One.
She wished she could've done more for Lelouch these past few days. Unfortunately, she didn't have the protection of a Knight of the Round. Even attending her classes had proven impossible this week, as she was accosted in every hallway by those seeking Lelouch's favor.
Not to mention the endless rumors swirling around her.
Finally, her grandfather entered, his cheeks sunken and back bowed with fatigue. He attempted a weak smile at her before collapsing in the free armchair.
"Father," her father began before trailing off awkwardly.
Her mother, having no compunctions, leaned forward. "Has our gamble paid off, Father? The boy is in our debt."
Her grandfather's lips thinned and gestured at the teapot in the center of the coffee table. When her mother made no move to accommodate him, Milly stood and poured him a cup. Clearly, things were not as simple as she had hoped.
Sheltering Lelouch had been an act of treason, and with his mother dead, he lacked a power base to draw on and protect himself. If the Emperor decided to punish her family, there was nothing Lelouch would be able to do to protect them.
Her grandfather's hand trembled slightly as he accepted the cup. He inhaled deeply, still not answering the question.
"That was the plan," her mother said crossly. "We would shelter the boy and tend to his sister so he would be in our debt. You argued at the time that he could claim the throne."
"No," her grandfather said, shaking his head warily. "I said there was a slim possibility. After the Emperor's death, announcing his survival would've endeared us to people like Viceroy Cornelia. Now, he is everyone's enemy. I only… wanted to protect her children."
Her mother glanced at her. "Well, this is a fortuitous turn of events. We should tie him to our cause."
"Absolutely not," her grandfather snapped. "We committed treason and for that I was drugged in my office so the Knight of One could have a personal chat with me. Either this is some elaborate scheme to oust the Emperor's enemies, or the realization of his own mortality has the Emperor scrounging up the dredges of his affection for Marianne. If it is the former, we are dead. As for the latter… Do you think he would take it well if we moved to force Lelouch's hand?"
"There is no need to be so unsubtle." Her mother rolled her eyes. "Milly and him have been close for ages. If she confesses her love—"
"He would be baffled," Milly interrupted. "There is nothing between us. Or between him and anyone else for that matter. He has never been interested in anyone."
"Not even him and that redhead?"
"Shirley?" Her brow furrowed. "Maybe? She's been pining after him for ages but— I don't think Lelouch would be cruel enough to drag her into court life if he did love her. He knows how difficult it was for his mother, and Shirley is…"
Her mother shook her head. "No, the one who was eating ice-cream. Minor nobility…" She snapped her fingers. "Ah, that's right. The Stadtfelds. They're quite wealthy. They made a fortune acquiring land rights during the establishment of Area Eleven. Although most of that was through some subsidiary…"
"I get it. You're a gossip hound," Milly groaned. "You mean Kallen. She's nice enough, supposedly sickly. I think Lelouch just enjoys riling her up. She's quite entertaining."
"A perfect beginning—"
"Mom!"
Her mother sniffed. "Fine. We have to depend on the brat's goodwill."
Cringing, her father stared at his wife. "He is the Crown Prince."
"Yes, he is. So the question is what do we do about it. Even if this is because the Emperor actually cares for him, he said nothing about his sister, and that girl's medical expenses have been draining our coffers dry."
"Actually," her grandfather interrupted, "Lel—Crown Prince Lelouch has been paying for them since he was fourteen."
"Yes, your discounted price because you bought out the doctor first."
Her grandfather flushed. "It is not that expensive. He would pay us back in full if I let him. He argues with me every year over the damn tuition payment. I was not going to take advantage of him, and our finances are comfortable enough."
"We are destitute," her mother announced. "I have to wear last season's cast-offs."
"Wait," Milly interrupted before they could once again descend into familiar bickering and return to her mother's attempts to marry her off. "Why do we have to do anything? Lelouch is going to be the Emperor, right? Even if the Emperor is scheming—"
"There have already been five foiled assassination attempts," her grandfather revealed. "The longer he stays at this school, the more his life will be in danger. All of our lives are. Viceroy Cornelia has suggested this is a way to draw out Marianne's killer. The Emperor has always had a skewed sense of safety, so I cannot even begin to guess whether His Majesty intends for Lelouch to die or truly thinks this will secure his safety for the future."
Milly's mouth dried as she tried to formulate a response. Yes, the announcement had come as a shock. Yes, she had known not everything was alright when the Knight of One's forces had dragged Suzaku off against Lelouch's wishes. But the future had to be different, right?
The Emperor held everyone's loyalty. By making his heir clear, the people had no choice but to follow Lelouch... right?
"Emperors die," Milly whispered.
"Milly?" her mother hissed.
"I mean—" Milly swallowed. "Grandpa? You don't think Lelouch will reign long as the Emperor."
"I don't know if he will live long enough to be the Emperor. His Majesty has many children and none are happy to lose their fighting chance for the throne, especially to someone who hasn't proven themselves…" He paled. "Shit."
"Father!" her father protested. "Your granddaughter is here!"
"I washed your mouth too often with soap for you to reprimand me," her grandfather snapped.
Milly was scared to ask, but she had to for her friend's sake. "What is it?"
"The Emperor is challenging him to build a name for himself, to overcome everything his siblings will throw at him. If he survives—"
"If?" Biting her lip, Milly shook her head. Tears burned in her eyes. "We have to help him."
"The last time we played with royalty, we lost everything," her father protested.
"Not everything! We have the academy. But do you think some angry royal prat will care about collateral? They'll actually take everything from us this time if we don't do anything."
"We could sell him to one of his siblings," her mother suggested. "Viceroy Cornelia might even let him live as a puppet on the throne. She does not strike me as a person who desires dealing with the minutiae of ruling."
"And then they'll stab us in the back," Milly cried. "We are threats to them. Lelouch is the only one who has a reason to care about our wellbeing."
"She is right," her grandfather declared, silencing the room. "I failed to protect Marianne, and so I accepted our humiliation as my punishment. We have another chance this time."
"Why should he be the Emperor?" her mother pressed. "Prince Schenizel is far more qualified."
Her grandfather grimaced. "He has experienced the ills of our society. Our country has to change, and he would facilitate that."
"What in the world is wrong with it?" her mother asked. "Do not answer that. I knew when I married into this family that it had strange notions, supporting a commoner girl for Empress being one of those, but—"
Her grandfather's voice cut in like a blade of ice. "Do not speak ill of her. I am the head of this family, and you accepted my superiority when you swore your oaths to my son and his family. I have not interfered in how you raised your daughter, but my leniency does not extend beyond that."
Milly flinched as his gaze swung her way. She had never seen this side of him. He always had this genial air about him— No, that was not true. In her distant childhood memories, whenever she visited him in his labs, there wouldn't be an ounce of compassion from him to his employees.
"If you wish your friend to survive, you must take things more seriously, understood?"
For once, she couldn't muster a smile. "Yes, m'l—Grandfather."
"George," he continued. "Your mistress will be put aside."
"Mistress?" her mother shrieked. "What mistress?"
"Quiet, she does not exist anymore. There will be nothing more. As for you, Elisa. Your budget will be increased. In turn, you will focus your socialization on gathering intel and securing allies. If you can secure invitations to more glamorous events, we may be able to convince Sir Waldstein to allow his charge to attend."
Ice pooled in her stomach as she bowed her head in acquiescence. Her grandfather was once again a lord, in all but name.
Lelouch stared out the clubhouse window down at the endless sea of students camped outside. The weekend had only encouraged their numbers to grow. A few students last night had broken into the lower floor of the clubhouse and had to be physically thrown out.
He had been mistaken in thinking that his fanclub was overbearing before.
"Your Highness," Rivalz greeted formally as he stepped inside. "Sir Waldstein."
Lelouch glared at the old knight, imperiously raising an eyebrow. "May I have a moment with him?"
Bismarck crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Take all the time you need."
"Alone," Lelouch ground out.
The man took one step back and then steadfastly stood at attention.
"How is Shirley?" Lelouch asked, giving up on persuading the man to leave. "Would you tell her I am sorry for whatever I said to upset her so much."
"Yeah, she really did just snap out of nowhere," Rivalz said. "I guess it makes sense, what with her losing her father. And then the announcement. No wonder she's all out of it this week."
"I only wish I knew how to help." It was his fault that her father died. He should have been better.
"Hey, bud—" Rivalz flinched as Bismarck cleared his throat. "Your Highness. Just hang in there. She'll come around. You'll see."
Lelouch cracked a small, insincere smile. "What about you? Are you sure—"
"You're my best bud! Or Highness," Rivalz hurriedly added at the vaguely disapproving noise from Bismarck. "Ugh. It just doesn't roll off the tongue. Doesn't matter. Of course, I'm going to help. So remember tall and scary guy?"
"That does not narrow it down," Lelouch answered dryly. His smile felt more honest. His friend had chosen to stay, wanted to stay. Of course he was undoubtedly doing it for his own purposes, much like C.C.
But—
Rivalz was a very poor liar.
"He had that super hot chick with him with beefy arms. Yeah, you know who I'm talking about. Well, apparently he hit a bit of a rough spot in his finances…"
And so had Lelouch. He had a small nest egg that he had been building, but most of the money he earned gambling had always gone to caring for Nunnally. As Zero, he had liberally stolen what was needed, but that wasn't an option here, especially with him cooped up at school.
"…but he is right panicking. Never forgets a face you know, so he recognized you on TV right away and is in a big pickle. So I offered him an alternative payment plan—"
"What?" Lelouch asked.
Bismarck took a step closer. "A mobster?"
Rivalz cringed, staring desperately at Lelouch.
"Answer me, boy," Bismarck snapped.
"The mob?" Rivalz laughed nervously. "What would give you that idea?"
"Because privacy is an illusion," Lelouch said bitterly.
"Why would you associate yourself with such riff-raff?" Bismarck demanded. "Meeting them, especially, is beneath your dignity."
His nails bit into his palm as he glared up at the knight. "I was exiled, Sir Waldstein. Tell me, what dignity was I supposed to have? I was declared dead by the Emperor. My corpse was shipped to Japan."
Bismarck scowled. "Self-respect—"
"Is a farce. It is a privilege to those who are afforded choices. I carried my sister through the devastated countryside and flattened towns. I went to bed every night hungry. We stole food like little street-rats because that is what it took to survive."
"That was then," Bismarck interrupted. "You found shelter with the Ashfords. Mobsters would only endanger that."
Lelouch laughed coldly. "Do you know how hard it is to find employment without proper documents? No documents and you are a Number. Documents, though, are followed by background checks and then Clovis would announce my survival to the world. Illegal and semi-legal activities are the only options left to make a living."
"You had the Ashfords," Bismarck insisted.
"Do you have any idea how expensive my sister's treatments are? Ashford had already subsidized her care, but I was not going to burden them further with my own problems. We already put them in so much risk."
"Mobsters… You could have been seriously injured. There are things they do to young—Were you?"
Lelouch flinched, failing to smother the instinctive response completely. He knew how close he had come on occasion. Mobsters did not like to lose to uppity school children. Too many had tried to reclaim their money. More had tried to force him into their employment.
"Excuse me," Bismarck growled, marching outside of the room.
The door swung shut.
"What was that?" Rivalz asked.
Lelouch sagged, the weight of everything bearing down on him.
Rivalz studied him intently for a minute. "Lelouch… What you said—"
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does. I knew you didn't like talking about your past, and then I thought it was because of the prince thing. But I never imagined anything like that."
"Rivalz. Drop it." An old familiar anger was rising in his chest, screaming at him to burn everything down. Even Zero could not master such rage. Down that road lay madness, even if it would be easier to destroy everything and wipe the slate clean.
"But—"
"I said drop it!" Lelouch yelled. He took a deep breath. And another. Trapped in his father's web, he could not afford to blindly thrash and become entangled even further until it choked the life out of him.
He had to remain in control of himself at least. He needed…
"Keep making contacts with our old business partners," Lelouch ordered. "If they pass to you information of potential terror attacks, reward them generously."
The school was such a lucrative target. He couldn't allow the thousands of semi-innocent school children to die because they had the misfortune to have attended classes with him.
"Lelouch… This is why Shirley demanded the truth. We don't know you."
"I loathe Britannia," Lelouch whispered. "I want to see it burn. Sometimes, I don't care who would be in the way because everyone feels so terribly guilty."
A new chapter. :)
For people curious as to why I haven't been updating recently, a lot of irl things are happening. I have things handled enough to finally spare the focus for writing, but I wouldn't expect any updates on more serious works in the near future.
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / MFKuCGYxcT