Chapter 1: I live?
See, I am pretty sure I was dead.
I am pretty sure 230 miles per hour on a motorcycle without any protection gear beside a helmet would immediately kill a man upon impact.
But here I am, alive, and staring up at what to be a popcorn ceiling of a small room.
I layed there, simply stunned. One moment I crashed head first into the road the next I woke up in a room that does not look like a hospital.
After sometime laying there and seeing my life flashed before my eyes on repeat I finally decided to sit up. Surprisingly I was able to function properly.
I then looked around and finally something caught my eyes. That thing is my hands…it is?
The hands were small, and pale, it is also smooth like a child, unlike mine which was larger and more aged.
Immediately pulled off the blanket to check out what was going on. It seems that something is indeed wrong.
"What in the actual fuck?"
My legs! They were not my legs, they were small, like children as well.
Immediately my stomach tied itself into a knotts and I felt like vomiting. I feel sick. What is going on?
Rushing off of the bed I ran around like a scared rabbit searching for something.
Rushing out of the room I bursted through every door I can find until I stumbled upon the bathroom.
There my fears were confirmed.
What was staring back at me from that mirror was not my reflection but of a boy who was not even the same ethnicity as me. The boy has dark greasy black hair, eyes with deep dark circles and swollen eye bags suggesting the lack of sleep, he has pale skin (not in a healthy sense) that seems greyish and a face of a malnourished child.
I immediately took off the shirt and almost cringe.
Lord help me, this body is honestly sad. The boy was skin and bones.
Then the next things came to mind. If the boy looked this monerish then where is the parent? I might have to call the CPS.
After I got over my shock I took my eyes away from the mirror and began to explore my environment. The house honestly looks very old and run down. Everything looks like it is from the 60s or 70s down to the wallpaper.
When I got to the living area I was thoroughly disgusted. This place is a mess. Nobody seems to care whatsoever.
Being a surgeon who is also an obsessive clean freak, this site makes me want to punch the person that is responsible.
Beer bottles, foods of some kind, magazine, clothings, and…is that a bloody fucking cockroach!?
Jesus I might pass out from rage.
With great disgust I turned away and to the kitchen, telling myself I would take care of that mess later.
Walking to what seems to be the kitchen I found the leftover of what seems to be some cold canned beans, a half eaten potato, and the remains of what seems to be a small meat pie.
My pride said no but the body was screaming at me.
With great struggle I sat down on the table and began devouring the food.
Bland was an understatement for the food that I'm consuming and that is the reason that I know that I am currently living in a British household.
After I finished the food and washed all the dishes thoroughly I resumed my quest to explore the house. But when I stumbled upon a calendar, hanging loosely on the wall of the fridge.
"...you gotta be joking."
Horror dawned upon me as I realised the predicament that I am currently in. the year was 19 fucking 68…Jesus christ help me.
That information struck me like a rock, and it probably had more impact on me than the bike crash that ended my life. 1968? It cannot be, there is simply no way I time travelled back a century from my current timeline. I was supposed to be in the year 2068 not 1968.
I sat on the ripped and brokenken couch of the house as my life flashed before my eyes once again.e again.
Everything I knew crashed upon me.
As a scientific man I have to juggle the idea of time travel as amusing conversation and small talk but never in my life have I even thought of something. So bizarre, let alone it happening to me.
And what is strange is that I wasn't even in my own body.
Shaking my head I stand up shakily before straightening myself. I've seen strangled things in my rather long life so I'll just chuck it to the back of my head and worry about it later.
Continuing with that train of thought I feel myself getting more confident and comfortable.
Opening the front door I went out into the street and began to explore it.
Seeing the street confirmed my suspicion of where I am currently at. The style of the building architecture and the car could only be one place
"Great Britain,"
The place I lived in looked poor, like one of those working class slums in those old movies. This is usually the place where factory workers or miners lived
And judging by the area that I seem to be in, my parents seem to be the lowest of the factory worker class.
The more I walked around, enjoying the polluted air the more I became amazed at the situation.
One moment I was a successful Cardiac surgeon, living in the nicest part of downtown Jacksonville making millions and the next I ended up as a malnourished boy in a factory slum in Britain in Goddamn 1968.
And when you think you see everything.
The sky began to darken and so is my mood it seems.
As I continued to walk seemingly endlessly I began to think. And when my mind is working independently something bad is going to be brewing.
As I continued to wonder I Stumbled upon a hospital.
Like a moth to a flame I walked into the hospital like it was a bad habit.
Approaching the receptionist I knocked on her desk. The woman then looked up at me, her eyes annoyed, seemingly by my intrusion of her reading time.
"Yes?"
She asked, mildly annoyed.
Ignoring her hating spirit I looked around before leaning on the desk.
"Do you have any volunteer jobs I can do?"
The woman looked like she was about to reject me but then she paused.
"I heard the pathology department needed some help with the cleaning up, yes, that should be it, you can volunteer in the pathology department."
The woman then picked up a phone and dialled in a number. I grimaced. This would be extremely illegal in the 21st century but it is the 1960s so nobody really cared enough and allowed a child to clean up corpses. I was nothing new to corpses, many of those are the result of my action anyway…
"I got you the job kid." the woman called out, cutting off my train of thoughts. She then took a piece of note and wrote something down. It seems to be instructions.
After she wrote it down she handed it to me and then shoo me away.
Walking out of the hospital I take a look at the piece of paper in my hand. It had the direction of the pathology department and the instructions on who to meet when I got there.
…
How did I find myself, at 9 in the afternoon, bringing dead bodies to the Goddamn Mortuary?
As I pushed the cart containing a pieced together body after they dissected it I found myself within the cold and dark mortuary.
I hate every moment of it.
I wasn't scared by any means, after all if you have watched a living person barely surviving after half their skin has been taken off by the bloody cartel you would be nearly fearless.
As I pushed the body into the mortuary I sighed.
For the sake of getting a better life…
1 hour into working I have already gotten over the shock that I have been in since I got here. The smell of dysentery, the sight of dead bodies, and the dead, stressed out and sleepless eyes of the people in the hospital calmed me down.
It feels like home.
That then got me thinking about the future. Now that I am here I might as well make the best of it.
After a bit of thought I know that I would need to display my skill to the right people to get me.
Since education was for free in Britain around this period I know I would be able to get an education.
What I would need is the ability to attend a good college, preferably Oxford or Cambridge or Harvard, the current best in the world right now.
Which would need me recommendations paired with a solid resume.
Working here would help me make connections with the right people and therefore get me to the college that I need to be to become a surgeon once again.
Around 12 am I was told that I should be going home by one of the nurses working there.
As I made my way out of the hospital one of the nurses ran and tapped me by the shoulder.
"Dr. Hall wanted me to give you this." The nurse handed me 10 pences and smiled.
"He told you to take the bus home and have a good break, you worked very hard today."
Looking at the pences I nodded and thanked her.
Walking out of the hospital I followed the path back to where my house is.
I have grown numb to sleeplessness.
From working for a 72 hour shift to having to engage in the middle of a hostile environment during my day as a JTF2 soldier I and sleep has had a very toxic relationship.
As I walked home, or at least where I remember my house is, I began to think about the future. I could not control what happens in the future but one thing that is certain; This life is gonna be hella fun if I have something to say about it.
Arriving at "my" house I tried to open the door but it was locked. There was no doorbell so I had to knock, but after 10 minutes of waiting I gave up.
It seems I was locked out of my own house.
…
Yeah the parents are shit.
With that in mind I walked back to the hospital. After I arrived there I quickly found an empty waiting spot that was ambiguous from attention and began sleeping there.
Life was shit, but I've dealt with worse.
…
The next day I woke up at the hospital. Stumbling around I tried searching through the hospital for a toothbrush and toothpaste.
Asking at the reception area I was able to purchase a toothbrush and a small sample of toothpaste. Brushing my teeth and doing my morning routine in a hospital washroom was commonplace for me. Suddenly as I wandered around the hospital a thought struck my mind.
Immediately I rushed to the reception desk and asked for the date. The woman was initially confused but relented and gave me the date.
"...July 29 1968,"
Hearing the date calmed me down a bit. It is summer and therefore I do not have to worry about school.
I walked back to the pathology department and see the nurse that gave me the money yesterday,
"Good morning ." I greet and she looked back at me, surprised.
"Snape? What on earth are you doing in the hospital this early in the morning?"
Shrugging my shoulder I replied nonchalantly.
"It's summer Mrs and I am bored at home, the job is very exciting for me."
Nodding her head the nurse then told me that there are several bodies that I can bring to the mortuary and after I finish the job I can go back to her to check to see if there are any other jobs I can do.
After I get rid of all the bodies into the mortuary I find myself out of a job in the pathology department.
Mrs. Johnson decided that it would be better for me to go general service, they might need some help with taking care of some things.
With that recommendation and a note from her I make my way to the general service department.
Arriving I knocked on the desk and the nurse behind it looked up at me.
"Can I help you?"
She asked, not really bothering to sound polite.
"Excuse me, I have volunteered today and…" handing over the note to the nurse I watched as she read it before she nodded.
"Ah yes, go to room 280, I need you to move patient number 08 and 10 to room 290. After that come back and I will give you something else to do."
Walking to room 280 I walked to and saw patient 08.
'Poor thing,'
Was my only thought upon gazing at her. She was an old lady, looking around 90-100, the old woman was shrivelled up, all skin and bone. Her skins are like dry leaves, wrinkled and greyish, filled with liver spots.
I pulled her bed out, and before I moved her I checked around to see if she was comfortable.
As I moved around her I saw her looking at me. Her eyes, they held so little light, akin to a campfire in a storm.
I smiled back in the most gentle smile I could've given. This woman has been through a lot. 2 world war, the depression, the Spanish flu of 1918-19, she was a fighter…or just a lucky person.
"Good day Mrs."
I greeted, expecting no reply. Indeed no reply came, even though her eyes still looked at me.
Moving down I took the end of the bed and dragged it out the door.
The next patient was an old man, he must be a victim of the war, a leg and an arm of his was missing.
One look at him and I knew the man probably suffered from the last stage of skin cancer.
After I transferred the people I went back to the nurse and recieved my next task.
It was boring and mundane work but at least it kept me from going insane from boredom.
At the end of the day I was back to working at the pathology department. There I met , an old gentleman working in the pathology department and someone who is kind enough to allow me to watch him dissect some body.
Of course when it comes to cutting a human open I have already done it many times. The goal of this is to get interest and provide me with more work. This would be very useful for my resume in the future.
While we were cutting up the body I struck up a conversation with .
We talk about the dead body, and I got to feel like working on a patient once again.
"You have a terrific understanding of the body lad. How do you know of this diagnosis and symptoms?"
"I read,"
He looked surprised but then laugh,
"I didn't know the library up town had books about stomach cancer?"
I laugh awkwardly and shook his head,
"If it is a personal matter then I don't mind kid, but you sure have a talent for the medical profession,"
Our conversation delved deeper and we bonded. is a competent and knowledgeable pathologist.
After the autopsy was finished I took the body along with several others to the mortuary before washing my hands and preparing to go home.
It should be around 8 by now.
As I walked out of the hospital I found lit up a cigarette before he noticed me.
With a smile he gestured for me to have one.
Even though I know it's bad for me I still do not really care, every surgeon I know is either a heavy weight smoker or alcoholic and I was, for a time, part of both categories.
Taking the cigarette I popped it in my mouth and lit it up.
"You know this may kill you right?"
I asked him with a hint of humour.
"No solid studies really back that up and it feels good after a long day of work."
Hearing him, a doctor, speak like that really solidifies that fact that I am in the 1960s.
But he was right, it felt good after a stressful day of work, and that's all that matters currently.
The nicotine entered my system and I started to feel the relaxing effect.
"Hit the spot doesn't it?"
Doctor hall ask with a smile,
"Yeah," I replied. Gosh I miss smoking.
Then I remembered something and couldn't help but gave a low chuckle.
The body that I am in is currently 8 or 9 years old or looked around that rage, and yet, a doctor handed me a cigarette and I smoked it with no hesitation.
"Severus, you are quite mature for your age, you know that?"
"Yeah," I replied slowly before I take a deep breath of cigarette into my lungs.
"You tend to be pretty mature when your parent fail to protect your childhood,"
"Or I could just be a 60 year old man living in an 8 year old body."
gave a chuckle.
"Sure lad, sure…" silence descended as we smoke.
Then spoke,
"I like you lad, you ever thought of going into medicine?"
Taking a puff of my waning cigarette I stared at the darken sky and replied,
"Well either that or working in the factory,"
Turning around I look at him a smile,
"Yeah, medicine, I would love to become a doctor."
"Then work under me as my apprentice."
You can watch me and learn, I can also link you up with other doctors, you'll have a solid resume for university.
"Thanks doc,"
I said with sincere gratitude, before taking the last puff of my cigarette, drop it, then stomp on it.
"It's late kid, you should go home."
said. Nodding, I take my back off the wall and step away. Waving the man goodbye I make my way back "home".
When I arrived back at the house I knocked on the door and after a while of waiting the door opened and a man faced me.
Is this supposed to be my father?
While I'm more skinny than a walking life size skeleton model the man was Kim Jong un comparable.
And the smell of alcohol coming off of this man made me want to puke and triggered memories I thought long forgotten in my mind.
"Ya fina come?"
The man asked drunkenly.
"Sure," I replied nonchalantly.
What happened next caught me by surprise. Without any warning he grabbed my shirt and threw me into the house.
"Ahh!"
Landing roughly on the floor got the air knocked out of me. Wincing I. Pain I stood up and prepared to fight.
"Disrespectful cunt! You and that whore,"
Now my blood boils, if he wants to fight I will give him a fight.
"Of yeah? Disrespectful you say you smelly stinking swine? How about you man up and throw hands?"
With that I rushed toward the man as he attempted to grab me.
Ducking up his hands I fake a lot of legged takedowns before switching to a back take.
Jumping up I linked my arms around his neck while wrapping my legs around his waist, performing a standing rear naked.
"I'm a 2nd degree black belt don't play with me,"
I yelled into his ear as I tightened the choke hold.
After around 10 seconds the fat man was completely out. Cold, falling backward.
Scuffling off the man I fixed my clothing before.
Taking off my shoes I walked calmly into the house. After knocking what seems to be my father out cold on the floor, getting kicked out of the house was natural, but before that I need to get some stuff that this kid has.
Upon my arrival to the kitchen however I found a woman laying on the floor, her head bust open and under it was a pool of blood.
"…Shit"
Immediately, I rushed toward the woman and checked her vitals.
Judging by the pool of blood and her weak pulse, she must have suffered head trauma within the last few minutes. Turning her to the side, I elevated her head using my jacket to minimize swelling.
Then I sprinted to the living room and picked up the home phone.
"911... no, this is bloody Britain! What's the number?!... 999!"
I dialed the number frantically, and the call was answered almost immediately.
"999 emergency, how can I assist?"
"I need police and an ambulance to—" I suddenly realized I didn't know the house address. My brain went into overdrive. Recalling the street signs I passed, I remembered it was called...
"Spinner's End, the last house, number 27. Please hurry, a woman around 30-45 suffered a blunt head injury, likely from hitting a counter edge. The suspected perpetrator, a man of similar age, is unconscious on the floor after trying to assault me. Please send help!"
"Our nearest police and ambulance will be there in around five minutes. Please wait patiently."
"Five minutes?!" I almost screamed into the phone.
Five minutes could be the difference between life and death. She needed immediate help!
Rushing back, I checked the woman's breathing. It was short and weak, but she was still alive. I needed to disinfect the area. Looking around, I found nothing suitable. The alcohol content in the bottles lying around was too low to be effective.
Gritting my teeth, I kept pressure on the wound with a clean cloth to reduce bleeding as much as possible. Then my eyes widened with a sudden realization.
I rushed to the unconscious man. His breathing was slow and steady, the alcohol and chokehold ensuring he stayed out cold for a while longer. His pulse was stable, confirming he wasn't in immediate danger.
When the police and ambulance arrived, I directed them inside. The paramedics took over the woman's care, while the police handcuffed the man. As they worked, I relayed the events as calmly and clearly as I could, detailing everything I knew.
I was taken by the police into the police station and was positioned there until morning.
I was taken by a police officer to visit my "mother" who was in the hospital in critical condition.
When I made it there however and requested to see her the nurse that met me gave a sorrowful expression and I immediately understood.
I was a cardiac surgeon, and I saw that expression on my own face every time I failed to save a patient.
She then informed me that since my "mother" lost too much blood and also suffered a lot of trauma to her body and her head that caused internal bleeding she sadly passed away.
After that I told the police if he could leave me alone for which he agreed.
Walking around the hospital my mouth itches for a smoke.
I wandered and ended up in front of the hospital to which I found a girl crying. Curious, I walked to her.
"Excuse me," I ask to catch her attention and was surprised when a pair of beautiful almond shape green eyes looked back at me.
Surrounded by tears those eyes shine like precious emerald, bewitching all that stared into them.
"May I sit beside you?"
I asked which the girl, hesitant at first, agreed.
I sat down and relaxed my back against the chair. What on God's green earth is even happening anymore? First I get transported to the past, then I got flung around like a rag-doll, quite literally, then I knocked out a grown man, tried to save a dying woman…I should've just stayed dead.
"A girl crying on a bench outside a hospital is not a pretty sight, no?"
I asked the girl while glancing at her from the corner of my eyes. When I saw that I got her attention I continue my digging,
"Something unpleasant?"
I asked and watched as she nodded.
"Let me guess…family?"
She nodded again and I stay quiet, waiting,
"My mother,"
The girl finally spoke,
"She is very sick, she has been in the hospital for many days now yet she is still not better."
'Poor girl,'
I thought. I was then reminded of when my own mother died. When I was in my last year of general surgery residency my mother suffered from a heart attack while driving a car.
She was quite frail and an old lady in her sixties, and has been working hard her whole life.
The car crashed and since the rescuers weren't able to get there on time she died.
Despite being a doctor I could not save my very own mother. The news of her death devastated me and turned me into an obsessive workaholic. Soon after my father also died, alone and in his bed, also from a heart attack.
"It must be hard, but hey, your mother will be fine, doctors are skill professionals that are trained to keep people safe. If anything is of comfort, your mother is definitely in good hands."
She nodded and I realised her tears had now dried. Grabbing a handkerchief from my pocket I handed it to her.
It has been a habit for me to always carry a disinfectant handkerchief ever since I entered residency to clean my hand after washing.
Even though this handkerchief was just a clean cloth the habit stays.
Using it to blow her nose. Feeling better she look back at me,
"Thank you…uh,"
"Severus please call me Serverus." I know the last name when I briefly caught a glimpse of a journal on the young boy desk after waking up as him,
'Journal of Severus Snape'
"Thank you Severus, my name is Lily, Lily Evans, Nice to meet you."
Then I saw it. Her smile. It was just a smile but something in it made me feel some emotion, emotion I haven't felt since a long time.
Smiling back I replied,
"Well it is lovely to meet you Lily, I volunteer at this hospital so if you ever need someone to talk to when your here, please feel free to find me, not that I would help to see you here often."
Lily smile died a little as she look at me confused,
"Why not?" She asked as I gave a bitter smile,
"Hospitals are a place for the sick and unhealthy, the atmosphere is damp and dark, not really a place someone like you should confine yourself to too many times."
I replied. Lily looked at me before asking a question of her own.
"Then why do you volunteer here?"
"Well…" suddenly my tongue stop at the spot. Why do I want to be volunteering here? Why do I want to work at a place where, I myself have stated it to be dark and gloomy and sick?
"Good question Lily, it is because,"
The sight of my mother body flash my mind and and the news of my father's death, and the face of countless patient I failed to save cross my mind,
"I want to save people. I want to be able to save people who are suffering, who are sick, who are in pain and hopefully make them feel less pain."
I replied in the best way I can.
Lily stared at me for a moment before she nodded,
"You are a kind person, Severus,"
That caught me off guard. Me? A kind person?
Just when my thought trail off I saw the police officer, he was gesturing for me to go back.
Nodding I turn around to Lily and wave her goodbye,
"Well I'll have to go now, maybe we will see each other again somehow, until then."
With that I walked away, desperately reminded that I needed a smoke.
When we got into the vehicle I asked the cop for a smoke. This was a gambit as I was desperate for a smoke.
The police hesitantly handed me a cigarette and lit it up.
Thanking him I took a deep puff of the substance and felt the nicotine rush.
"Gosh that felt good."
I drawl out my ecstasy and felt my back relax against the seat of the car.
When we arrived at the station I stepped in and was taken to questions.
I re-accounted everything truthfully without hiding any details. After that I was taken to talk to a child protection service worker to deal with my case.
My father is most likely going to jail for murder and my mother is dead, therefore that left me alone without a guardian.
I was informed that neither my parents have relatives so now I am, presumably an orphan.
I was then taken to a local orphanage run by the local church. The process of admitting me was quite simple on my end, as I was considering a complete and total minor I was force to stay at the orphanage while my paperwork is taken care of by the social worker.
In the meantime I was working in the hospital almost everyday to get my head out of the gutter. I would be the first to admit that I am a workaholic. If anything I am in the extreme version of the spectrum.
If I don't work my mind would slowly go insane. My apprenticeship under has been going great. He introduced me to a general surgery department surgeon named , yes, he is the husband of , the nurse that I met on my first day.
I also met the local resident of the general surgery department, the 3rd year general surgical resident named . He was a cool dude and we bonded quite nicely.
When I asked him if he wanted to be a general surgeon he denied and said that he wanted to be a cardiothoracic surgeon, more specifically a cardiac surgeon.
I then knew he was one of my people.
was an enthusiastic and passionate surgeon. During one of his free time I asked him if I was able to show him my suturing skills that I learned from McManson.
This was a front ofcourse, learning from McManson was just a front so I can have an excuse to show my skills.
Needless to say he was impressed. With my over 20 years of experience I expected nothing less.
I began to be mentored by who recognized my skill. Since I was very young (in this body) I was only allowed to watch the surgical processes and was also provided with more advanced medical resources like books and material.
Lily was also a person who was involved in my life. After that first meeting we often meet regularly.
I later found out that she does not have many friends which still doesn't sit right with me considering that she is one of the kindest, most gentle girl that I have known.
When we went back to school I aced every subject I could get my hands on.
I briefly mentioned to and that school was becoming way too easy for me and they suggested that I request for a grade skip. I suggested that they could write me a letter of recommendation and they agreed.
I was able to approach the principal and after some testing I was boosted to year 7, by passing primary education.
Being in secondary education I was able to get my research opportunities.
Everything was going perfectly well. I was able to bypass most of the education requirements for secondary education and by the age of 10 I was in college/sixth form.
Things were going smoothly and everything has been smooth sailing so far.
Until one fateful day.
After morning church service I was ready to go to work when I found a letter right in my bed in the orphanage.
Suspicion came over me as I took the letter and saw a strange seal over it. Breaking the seal, I examined the letter and was left in shock at what I just read.
𝐇𝐎𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐓 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐘
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙈𝙧. 𝙎𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙚,
𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙃𝙤𝙜𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙒𝙞𝙯𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙧𝙮. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙥𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩.
𝙏𝙚𝙧𝙢 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝟭𝙨𝙩. 𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙡 𝙗𝙮 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝟯𝟭𝙨𝙩.
𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮,
𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙖 𝙈𝙘𝙂𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙡𝙡
𝘿𝙚𝙥𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨
What the actual…?!