The Woman Whose Eyes Opened Another's: Days Later

Hold your head high. Never let go of your pride. Even so, the life she wished to have would have to wait when she had official business to attend to in a fight that would not cease. The person who anticipated her arrival would share her sentiments.

The place was a maze that would have terrified any commoner stuck in here against their will, but the corners and many turns were a familiar pattern to her by now. She didn't mind being summoned to the private meeting chamber this afternoon, her usual headquarters for her assignments. Work had gotten boring since rumors of Jaegerists being struck down terrified even the most ardent of Eldian nationalists who loved their island to the point of calling upon other nations to fall.

Nation. Just as she got used to the idea of another nation where her mother's ancestors were born, another place with other laws and rituals, many were wiped out. Paradis, or New Eldia, would always be her home, but it was not the whole world as she and every other person here once believed. The cruelty extended to even further corners of the world, also referred to as a planet by some journals which dedicated themselves to the study of the place above the sky known as "outer space", and whatever beauty there was out there that remained, she hoped she could embrace one day.

She also needed a distraction. She wished she could spend more time with her former comrades, but this wasn't for happy reunions, not for the purpose of their mission, and definitely not after what happened. She had only seen the aftermath of the scene back almost two weeks ago. It would have taken more blood than she had seen since her childhood to make her queasy, but the knife… The despair and lost will to live flashed before her eyes as it had too many times before. She knew all too well what Reiner might have experienced. He was fortunate to have family in Esereso to embrace him. Communications made it clear he was safe at home, much to everyone's relief.

Maybe her current family, or closest thing to it, wasn't the one she imagined, but they all supported each other through each day. Kiyomi often recounted traditional stories from Hizuru, and Historia's little girl Ymir was an energetic bundle to watch whenever Historia and her husband needed help as they tended to the orphanage grounds, which had expanded and implemented new technologies to help bring up the children. A number had lost their parents when the Walls crumbled to pieces. Of course, among the living, there was one missing, the one she could consider the closest to a living relative, who wasn't present.

In the fine oak chair reserved for the acting monarch was Queen Historia, who was guarded by two statue-stiff guards. Who knew how long she had been waiting? She had summoned Mikasa's audience, which required Mikasa to abandon her duties on patrol around the royal grounds while the ambassadors convened and spoke to numerous representatives as another guard was sent, although not knowing about her presence. Very few knew that she was on the island. If she became known to the public, the chance of a normal life would shrink to an even tinier thread, if the most fiery of islanders even allowed her to live without a formal trial.

Mikasa took a seat closest to Historia at the front of the table. No need to maintain a distance even as a glorified servant. Her royal status wasn't a barrier to approach her. The cattle farming goddess- as much as she loathed that long-abandoned title- nodded solemnly at her presence. Her attention prior to her arrival had been fixed upon a framed artwork opposite her on the wall: a young brunette woman dressed in a white tunic standing upon a cliff, viewing a rising sun. Mikasa knew that while Historia was very attentive to ensure tax dollars went to bettering the island, she did occasionally indulge herself in the arts, commissioning works to decorate the lonely palace. There was no pattern to the decoration or any concern with how perfectly thematic a series of paintings was.

But Mikasa knew that the reason she had been summoned had nothing to do with admiring a portrait. Historia's face shifted to one of urgency. She looked like she was trying to hide some perplexion as her hand rested upon an enclosed packet that looked ready to burst if it had not been obvious that security had tampered with the seal already.

Mikasa would have immediately snatched it out of her reach if she was younger and more impulsive to react. Sometimes, a chair wasn't a chair, and more often than not, a packet was not a packet. But granted that everything was surveyed and inspected nowadays, there was likely no imminent explosion as part of an assasin's plot. Still, she wished she hadn't lost her sense of foreboding danger three years back.

"Mikasa, you have mail from the mainland," Historia said plainly as she slipped her hand into the packet and drew out a regular sized envelope. "It was sent via Esereso's administration of foreign affairs. It's addressed for the ambassadors as well, but you're the main addressee. There is a personal letter to you that was found during inspection."

Mikasa's chest became hollow. Her strong heart tightened as she maintained her cool demeanor. "Mail?" It looked more like a short novel based on the dimensions of the packet.

Historia's blue eyes peered at her. "It was written by Captain Levi," she said almost breathlessly, dropping any semblance of trying to be formal. Mikasa fought to resist the urge to snatch the package out of her hands, feeling like a cat being restrained from catching a mouse. Nobody else knew of her selfish action she carried out at the port. Her wish was complied with. She would have to find some way to thank Reiner later.

"Just how much does he have to say?" Was the first thing out of her mouth in her fit of elation. "I can't believe he repl- wrote anything."

"I guess all those years of being aloof took a toll on him," Historia smiled slightly, "but he never stopped caring about others no matter what happened, didn't he?" She sighed. "A few of the older orphanage children who returned to volunteer remember him, but it's not as if our current regime remembers him fondly."

"Yeah." Historia's words were a blur to Mikasa. "Do you know what he wrote?"

"I haven't pried. It could be a private affair," she said with a touch of melancholy from her experience years back. "But Mikasa, it appears that another person signed the letter addressed to you that we don't recognize except by relation to an ambassador. It's signed by a woman named Karina Braun."

Mikasa shook her buzzing head to make sure she heard correctly. "Braun? Reiner's mother?"

"A show of gratitude?"

"No doubt." She vaguely remembered a middle-aged blonde woman with Gabi at the Fort that day as they watched on for Reiner and Armin to escape those monstrous remains of Eren. She probably had no clue who she was outside of being a devil who invaded her hometown and not the one who took down Eren. Not that it mattered to Mikasa. Guiding her only child back home to her took more precedence and brought her more pride.

"Why don't you read it?" Historia urged. Mikasa wanted to chuckle. This was just like their training days in the girls' barracks, gossiping over the latest rumors around the grounds, feeling noticed by upperclassmen and ranked officers. She accepted the envelope and opened it as if it were made of butterfly wings.

The first thing she noticed was that it was not very long. She stifled a snort of amusement. That was typical of Captain Levi. It was also typed out. Maybe that was for the best with his hand injuries even if it seemed far less personal than she hoped. But she read it over privately first, and then she shared it with Historia.

"'It may explain some things about us all.'" Mikasa repeated after finishing. She questioned what this meant. Did she mean himself and her? No, because what would this Karina Braun, an ordinary civilian as far as she knew, have to include in this if nothing about her own son's life? And it involved the ambassadors as well. For one so direct and few in words, her former captain- having signed himself as just 'Levi'- he had certainly left her a whole project to analyze. Well, Karina as well, a complete stranger who had never met her outside of a crisis in brief passing.

The guards remained motionless. Whether they had their own thoughts and opinions on this matter, Mikasa held in no regard, and neither did Historia as she tenderly opened the packet and let the contents slide onto the table with a slight thud. Mikasa winced, wishing she would be less careless knowing that this was official business rather than a time to reminisce. Historia looked on and realized her error, going slightly red.

"S-sorry," she stuttered as she patted the clipped pile of paper to atone. "It's just that once when I read Ymir's only and last letter to me, it was as if I saw things through her eyes. I don't know if I want this to happen again- I'm not sure if the curse caused it or not. I don't want to pry on accident."

Mikasa cocked her head. Historia had never told her this. It sounded as odd a quirk as her headaches were. "Never mind that. I want you to read this with me."

"Are you sure?"

"The 'us' isn't about me alone. It's for everyone. I'm sure of it"

Historia closed her eyes and bowed her head. Was this another document to be made public? The last time she made a decision like that, she had been so young, but it led to so much. "If it's for our people's survival and understanding, very well."

Taking all effort to control her trembling hand, Mikasa flipped the first page.

…

We are not her Subjects. We are Ymir's children.

She couldn't decide how to react as the last words poured off the page. Time, which was not a straightforward event, stretched before her eyes, the weight of so much history and memories and lives that didn't belong to her kept her motionless in her chair, save for her shaky grasp she held on her temples. For the first time in years, she felt a headache, not caused by Ymir Fritz, but because of Ymir Fritz.

"Mikasa?" Historia asked as if from a distance, barely above a whisper. She must have felt not too different from herself. After all, she had the once active royal blood in her veins, a parasitic power feeding off her very ancestor directly. It was also the blood that was partially responsible for the birth of her very servant who sat by her. The long known fact from the royal records about the clan serving the King had altered, reformed, shaped in front of her, and Mikasa felt warm and cold simultaneously.

If it was just the King's family who had created the bloodline as a failsafe for future use, that was enough to cause her to shudder. But just how much had it really been the royal family, and not only him… Eren… tampering with people through time? And was the woman revered as goddess and devil in tandem the whole time, manufacturing everything by tying up all these people they knew and loved and hated into knots to free herself from the knot she put herself into? That had only been a suggestion on Levi's part. Still, this was a horrifying notion to entertain.

The scarf around her neck felt strangling like the creature which clung to Eren's spine. She shakily loosened it, being careful to avoid a small hole she had yet to repair.

"Historia…" Mikasa reached out to touch Historia's wavering hand used to get her attention. Her hand had grown much softer from lack of training since she was crowned.

But of all her carefully crafted set of dolls, children born as her subjects who begat many onto the earth, Mikasa had been chosen from among the clan, the most perfect among them to fulfill her salvation. She had known that since she beheld the face of the woman which overflowed with sorrow and relief when it was all over, something so beautiful while afflicted with weariness. But to take it this far….

Her body felt tight. Too many thoughts and her own memories flashed faster than one of those cameras brought to the island. It hurt so much. All this had been her purpose in life. She browsed at the papers in front of her. Words burned worse than the hottest flame. It hurt. She wanted to scream. At Levi, at Karina, at whoever thought this was a good idea. She wanted to push them away and retreat to her safe place to repose under that tree. She wanted to beg Eren, pray to him for an answer. He never hated her. But this truth, if it was really such, hurt worse than his lie.

A tear dropped down. It splattered on the paper, narrowly missing words to blot out. Who cared how much effort her former captain had put into preparing this for her if he and a woman who knew nothing of life outside of a small barriered prison-like city were going to suggest that not just she, but everybody were only puppets in the grand scheme of things?

"Mikasa, I'm here," Historia tried to soothe while masking her own shock. Her maternal side was showing as if she were soothing her daughter. "They- they only said it was sp-speculation on their part."

"I know," she sniffed. "But it makes sense. Did I really choose this?" She wiped her eyes. "Why couldn't Ymir just speak to me?"

"I don't like this any more than you do. But I'm sure you made your own choices. I know I did, otherwise I would not be waking from the same nightmares daily. Why would she want to make you think she was simply using you, any more than she could have been using me for making my choice to remain silent?"

"I don't know," Mikasa sighed weakly. "She didn't say."

Historia chuckled at this unintentional sarcasm. "This is why you should never be a goddess. You're expected to provide all the love and answers but never do because you simply can't."

Mikasa touched the packet. How was she supposed to reply to something like this? Was she supposed to thank Levi for terrorizing her with this new world of possibilities? How was he handling this? He never came across as bothered over this book from out-of-nowhere with a note from some previous holder- allegedly- of the Attack Titan telling him to read this book? Why didn't he just send the book to her too? She wanted to draw her own conclusions.

Yes, that's what she needed. She knew how to think for herself. Wasn't that what her other closest friend from childhood had told her to do? Of course, they had been in the most horrid predicament when he yelled at her, but come to think of it, she wanted his opinion on this too. He was the best person to ask to analyze difficult documents. It wasn't a sign of weakness to ask for help. After all, this was meant for everyone to read.

"We need to ask Armin's help," Mikasa said.

…

It wasn't until after dinner that Armin was whisked off to the private meeting chamber. He had more than a handful of meetings that afternoon, some of which he had taken over for Reiner in his absence. If he was tired or wanted to spend time with Annie, he did a good job of not showing it. He had grown used to the long and arduous hours that came with the ambassadorship. Rather he was more concerned about Mikasa when it was him alone who was summoned to do an ambiguous task. Mikasa did her best to recount just what she and Historia had read as Historia looked on.

"... and other than that, we're supposed to identify ourselves with Ymir Fritz," Mikasa concluded. She didn't think anything she said made much sense save for her last sentence. Armin didn't seem to think she had lost her mind, however. He stayed focused and nodded along, seemingly interested in this unexpected topic. He probably had to listen to so much diatribe and hostility from angry Jaegerists and their sympathizers that whatever she said sounded sane by comparison. And he could vouch for part of these ideas from his own experience.

"He told me very clearly, Mikasa: Eren told me that Ymir Fritz truly loved King Fritz, and she specifically wanted you because of your choice you would make. But Eren didn't know what that was. Unless he was lying to me at that moment, I don't think he directly manipulated you into doing anything for him- he didn't do this to any of us. I can't say anything about Ymir Fritz though, or how much of the events of our whole lives and our predecessors were tampered with." He looked off into the not-so-distant wall with a portrait of a ship on some calm waves.

It wasn't quite what she desired to hear, but Mikasa felt lighter than she had. "That's the hard part. We'll never know."

"If we want to brush that aside," Armin continued, "I have to say… I agree with their other observation about us Eldians and Ymir Fritz." His brown eyes gazed toward her. hey were a rather murky puddle with a deep thought at the bottom that Mikasa wished she could dive for. "Even if it's not what I would expect from Levi. Unless that was mostly Ms. Braun's contribution."

"Identifying with her?"

"Yes. I feel almost bad for realizing this now. Come to think of it, maybe it would have been useful if we utilized this if we knew this earlier. How much do you two know about the religious systems outside the island?"

Historia raised an eyebrow. "Other than some details about the Eseresoan faith and the spiritual practices of the Azumabitos, very little. Though last I checked, the one who was responsible for Zeke Jaeger's plot against us was rather fanatic about him even in his death. Not a religion, but on par with one."

Historia hated dealing with Yelena. Mikasa knew from experience, her mere presence in the prison cell driving the madwoman through the roof in ire, a method of torture so good that nobody had to lay a hand on her to gather intel. Maybe one day she would be extradited to the Marleyan mainland, but like a hot potato being tossed to and fro, it seemed nobody wanted to deal with the one who double-crossed each side of the sea with plots of treason and terrorism.

"Right. And what did we have- us islanders, at least those who had faith?" Armin nearly stumbled over these unnatural words to him, the brilliant thinker. "We had the Wall Church."

"Yes, largely funded through the nobles," Historia agreed.

"Some cultures, like ours, worship… or worshiped, tangible objects as if they are or were manifested by spirits or gods who protect or serve purpose to their people. One of the legends from Quao is that their god lived in the trees, and if one comes to tend to a tree in the springtime and it is the first to blossom, blessings of marriage will be upon the gardener. Quite a story even if it is unreasonable."

Mikasa winced. "Armin, you were able to turn into a monstrous humanoid with the explosive power of thousands of thunderspears. People are not unreasonable for worshiping what they know."

"I'm speaking by scientific standards. Plenty of research was done about the Titan powers by Marleyan researchers and evidently by the royal family. There's no way to measure the power of a supernatural being such as a goddess or a devil as one can't measure how much a tree will affect one's ability to marry. From learning about the outside world, it's almost natural that people will believe in a power greater than themselves ordering the world, even if the bigger and more powerful people themselves will take that to their advantage, centering it around themselves or another being." Armin's eyes glowed. "And I can see why. It's not exclusive to religion."

Mikasa wished he would arrive at his main point. He shifted slightly as if he read her mind. "What I'm saying is that as Eldians, from a positive perspective of outsiders, were called her subjects, merely tangible objects. What many of us never considered after the fall of the Eldian Empire was that this transcended beyond the tangible into something unmeasurable. We could say that ultimately, the powers were just from a monstrous centipede-like creature… but where did it get its powers in the first place? Onyankopon tried explaining to me once that in his faith, the Creator is the cause of the First Effect, a type of chain reaction that explains how everything began, also used as a proof of their faith. I'm sorry, I have a lot of thoughts," he concluded abruptly.

"It's alright," said Historia. "I think I understand from reading a lot of books growing up and returning to read in between the lines. Each and every one of us is like Ymir Fritz, having been pushed into becoming something she never asked to and willing to sacrifice her all to please others. Maybe that's how her life transcends and defines us. With the unknown power behind it all. What do you think, Mikasa?"

As a girl, nature was the closest thing to a god or goddess she experienced, one moment captivating her and the next horrifying her. She could say the same for some of the things she experienced with the Church of the Walls in their stringy charity while singing glorious hymns, but it wasn't nearly as powerful. And to think something so natural to them yet also near omnipotent and at first, outside of her little confined world, such as Titans walked among them once, only to begin evaporating into obscurity.

"It's not impossible," she said. "If only Dr. Jaeger had left behind more detailed notes on our ancestors' worship of Ymir, maybe we could work off of that too."

Armin nodded. "I'm sorry for rambling nonsense. We've spent so much time focusing on telling our side of the story that we barely bothered to mention her, only in passing. She lived the life of a slave, loved her master until her death, and then…" he suddenly burst into a mischievous grin like he had as a little boy. "And then, nobody agrees on who she was. Forget the goddess-devil distinction. If we're going to go along with this premise, she's either going to be the poorest, most tormented soul in humanity's history, or the most brutal mastermind to all of humanity. Well, in my opinion, she's neither. She did what she needed to do to achieve her goal, and I like that."

"And Eren's?" Historia asked.

"Well, having made himself the archetypal devil, I think he wanted to take all the blame upon himself and not her. That is, assuming he was telling me the truth."

Mikasa concealed a heavy sigh, not the first time that day. Armin's words provided indirect consolation without her begging for confirmation. She wished she could make a certain reality where this was a solid fact with a foundation as solid as diamonds where Eren could answer her, and Ymir could speak the truth. The idea alone made her spiral, and she had to shake her head to bring herself back from her fantastical wish and confront the reality she had been chosen for an intention between holy and profane.

She had never asked for this life, but neither had Ymir Fritz as a child. Maybe she had retreated to somewhere beyond death that horrible day to get away from centuries of watching her children go through pain and joy, but for Mikasa, she couldn't retreat and take the easy way out, not when her choices helped reshape the world into a desolate place, and definitely not when she had memories to hold onto. She had a mission to fulfill for both clans that ran through her veins, and the mother of all Eldians who walked this world. Although….

"Armin, we have to share her story," Mikasa said firmly. "But I… I don't want anything about myself to be shared."

"But Mikasa, your bloodline is the reason the curse was lifted!" Historia argued.

"If you don't mind, Historia," Armin interjected, "It's already well circulated among the surviving nations that I was the one who defeated Eren, so why break our narrative now? Exposing Mikasa would not suit your image well either."

"Was the bombing civilians not strong enough of a message that extending my invitation to invite traitors to the island that I am unsuitable for the throne?" Her tongue was unusually sharp.

"You two… when this is all over, I want to live quietly. The only people I want to be aware of me are my friends and… family. I don't want to be made into a public spectacle, Jaegerists or not. Perhaps this is how I'm meant to be like Ymir." She preferred this over being a tool to kill her beloved.

"I don't mind bearing the burden," said Armin, "and look at it this way. Let's use what we know about her story and mold parts of my life into Ymir's life. We were both tortured brutally as children, and one day, we were both made into colossal beings. Maybe she willed it, but if anything, I…" he trailed off, gazing at the portrait of the ocean for a moment to collect himself. "Do you understand how we could all use this? Any Eldian anywhere can be connected by this. It's not going to solve the whole conflict, but it could clear the way for creating a bridge between us here and the mainland Eldians."

Us here and the mainland Eldians. He didn't mean this in a derogatory way against his fellow ambassadors. He was a child of the island. This was the only place he knew as home.

"Your mind is as brilliant as ever, Armin," Historia remarked, though Mikasa thought she sounded slightly skeptical. "Although we would need a plan to implement this idea. How are we supposed to teach the populace about a long deceased girl with no concrete evidence that this version of her existed?"

"Of course. That's the problem with claims like this. I'll think this over." Armin reached for the packet. He realigned the pages and peered inside. "I'd like to review what they've written myself. With your permission, would we be able to alter our schedule tomorrow so the others can review it too, Historia?"

"Permission granted. We'll send for you when we're prepared." Historia motioned a bodyguard to escort him out. Armin gave a slight nod toward Mikasa. As he slipped out of sight, Mikasa made sure to meticulously fold her personal letter back into the envelope for safekeeping. She wished she could have had a more casual conversation with him, one of the only people from her childhood left with her. Part of her wished this was the only thing that she had received, a pleasant surprise, not one which made her question the purpose of her existence.

"How are you feeling?" Historia asked.

"Like a puzzle piece," she replied. Except the force that made her as its effect knew how she fit in, and she didn't. But she didn't want to talk more about world philosophies.

"Those first nights after she left me… Ymir, I mean- mine… I felt like that too, although I thought of her like one as well. And after we learned about the truth of the Titan Powers and how Marley utilized them… no answers. No ghost to visit me, no dreams where she said goodbye, and no more explanations for any of her actions. I accepted that she was gone. We were just little dust specks in the grand scheme of things with no god or goddess to cry to. We just had each other for a brief moment, and made no promise for anything afterwards."

And neither did Eren.

"And now that her namesake has been brought back to us," she paused, "I can only take it as a sign. There are too many coincidences. I can't brush Ymir Fritz aside. I can see their lives intertwine just like how ours did." Her voice raised, becoming vivacious and bold. "No. I can see myself in Ymir Fritz. If it's the only explanation I can cling onto, I'm going to dig my bloodied hands into it and never let go. Her life, my life, yours, my daughter's, everyone is part of her being, her story." Her resolve hardened, showing in her fierce gaze. "And whether she desired it or not, we'll tell her story as she lived as a human being."

The headache brought on by the woman in question's actions faded for the first time since that afternoon. Mikasa did not know if this too was a sign from somewhere beyond, but she appreciated it along with the relief of having her beloved companions console her for the role she had never wished for as the daughter of Ymir. It wasn't as if these two had made all their choices for themselves either. Neither had her Captain despite his many lectures otherwise. And Ms. Braun? What of this woman's life was of interest to her? If she had a guess about life in Liberio, it was not a happy one. She now needed to collect all of her thoughts and respond.

"Wha-" Historia yelped.

The room was freezing. At first, Mikasa thought that the high emotions were getting to her, causing her to chill up. But Historia looked stunned as well. There were no windows in here, and it was well into the spring season with no winter in sight.

"A sign from her?" Historia asked.

"I'm open to believe it. Anything after what I've seen."

…

The task to collect one's thoughts on a complex near otherworldly topic was arduous enough, but it was not helpful to have a talkative toddler nearby whose idea of helping was asking more and more questions.

"Auntie Mikasa, are the bad men dead?" Ymir Reiss, Princess of New Eldia and heir to the throne, poked at Mikasa and tried to climb on her lap.

"Yes, they are," Mikasa replied. It was partially a lie, but she didn't want to scare her with the truth or confuse her with how policymaking worked. She picked up the three-year old and gave her a pony ride on her lap which gave her a shriek of joy.

When one's whole world and sense of purpose shifts, isolation is never a wise idea. Historia had requested a carriage back to her private home to be with her daughter and her husband who had been moved back there when the security risk was dropped. She invited Mikasa to join her, though it was more of an insistence. After all, it was much more pleasant to be able to sleep in a home and enjoy a meal around a table rather than stone cold headquarters and whatever rations she survived on excluding the times she joined with the Azumabito. It was where a family lived, not soldiers. Historia was not bothered by changing schedules despite the headache it caused to her inner circle of security advisors in the military police. Mikasa was even more of a pain to conceal when traveling. Mikasa almost wanted to apologize for this, but the result was worth the hassle.

"There you are, Ymir!" Historia exclaimed as she popped into the room. "It's time for bed, little girl."

Ymir pouted. "I'm not a little girl! I'm not tired!"

"Alright, but if you don't go to bed, the night time Titans will get you."

Ymir's eyes widened, and she jumped off of Mikasa's lap. "Night night, Auntie Mikasa. The Titans are coming!" She darted after her mother as if off to battle. Historia shot Mikasa a smile to put her rapidly growing daughter to bed. A fun little fairytale to put a defiant child to bed wouldn't hurt her. As long as it didn't become her personality.

Mikasa returned her attention to her blank paper and pen dripping ink. It was tempting to instead create a portrait of how she felt since all words dried up like rain in the sun, but art was not her talent either. How could she possibly contain every emotion to a piece of a dead tree? She couldn't rely on so-called signs to convey the message she wanted either.

She looked around her room which had been set up for her personally by Historia. She disliked using servants and hired hands to take care of domestic affairs and raise her own child. She liked to be present to show she truly cared about others in the smaller, more menial tasks. Less of a Queen, more of a regular human being. She didn't want to have the story recounted to her of her little girl scraping her knee and being tended to, she wanted to be the one to console her and tend her wounds.

Sometimes, only being in the presence of another person was the only way to communicate the deepest sentiments and truths, to simply be there. And there certainly had a way to take passage back to the mainland even if it took some sneaky arrangements.

She needed to see Levi in person, and Karina Braun.