Kingdom Hearts: Echoplex

by RpgBlaster

As you open the book and delve into its pages, you are immediately transported to the mind of our protagonist. a young teenager awakens from a seemingly eternal slumber. However, instead of finding himself in the familiar surroundings of the real world like an hospital, he is surrounded by a background with nothing but pitch black nothingness as he float. But he is not alone.

37. Chapter 37 (Judgement of the King)

Blizzard's eyes snapped open, the familiar, albeit still unsettling, sensation of waking in the Dream World pulling him back from the depths of slumber. He sat up, his muscles aching from the uncomfortable position, and glanced around, taking note of his surroundings and a lingering sense of disorientation washing over him..

He glanced towards his side, and saw Chirithy sitting on a nearby branch, its small body tense as if he was preparing himself for any sudden attacks.

Blizzard sighed, letting out a long, tired, yawn.

Blizzard: Morning.

Chirithy looked over with a slight, yet very visible annoyance.

Chirithy: I would have slept better, thank you very much, if I wasn't forced to be constantly on guard. It's hard to relax with the thought of those mushrooms.

Blizzard: Yeah, sorry, but I didn't exactly have the greatest of nights either. It's not easy sleeping with all that weird stuff going on.

He got up and began stretching his limbs, trying to work out the kinks from sleeping outside.

Chirithy: What exactly are you referring to? Did you have... a dream, or are you simply trying to be dramatic for no reason?

Blizzard paused, his mind racing. He didn't want to share the details of his dream, not yet. He still needed time to make sense of it all. All of it felt... wrong. He found himself questioning what had really been said.

The words lingered, a mocking tone still echoing in the recesses of Blizzard's mind, and the claims about Chirithy felt like a splinter buried deep within his skin, irritating and impossible to ignore. He felt a sense of disquiet start to spread, a sensation he didn't like at all, settling in his heart like a cold, heavy stone. It felt like some terrible sickness slowly spreading throughout his veins, he was not okay with it.

He closed his eyes briefly, a grimace of irritation twisting his features as the image of The Lunatic's smug face flashed through his mind, his face always contorted with a playful arrogance, and it pissed him off.

That man... what was he doing?

Why was he so obsessed with this time? Trying to undermine his faith in Chirithy? Did The Lunatic truly have nothing better to do with his time than to show up in a Dream within a Dream, just to annoy Blizzard with a twisted truth, mess with his head, and then laugh it off, as if it was all one big joke, and he was the punchline?

Why would he even go to such lengths, such as entering a coma and putting himself in danger just to mock him? If he really had all this power, shouldn't he be doing something more important? Like reseting all of reality or something? He was probably not even real to begin with!

Blizzard pushed away the unsettling thoughts, convincing himself that The Lunatic was merely trying to confuse him, to sow seeds of doubt that had no basis in reality. He refused to let the man's words hold any power over him. Those claims were nothing more than a petty attempt to unsettle him. And so, with growing frustration, he told himself that those words were worthless, empty, and most certainly not a reflection of the truth, just another reminder of how this strange place was slowly trying to unravel his mind. He refused to let it.

Blizzard: Nothing, nothing much. It was just another dream, full of... strange stuff. Don't worry about it. Did you sense anything weird during your watch?

Chirithy: Not really. Nothing out of the ordinary. You were safe on your own. But next time, try not to be such an easy target, okay?

Blizzard chuckled, and stretched his arms before slowly approaching the now extinguished campfire. He bent down, and using both hands began to scatter the leftover ashes, concealing any indication of his presence in this section of the jungle.

Where was Yen-Sid? Was the sorcerer safe? Or had that nightmarish being found him? A cold dread began to settle in his stomach, a feeling that he could not ignore, as he remembered the man's odd behaviour, and his obvious discomfort with the Dream World itself.

He was probably in danger because he was not strong enough, not nearly. And, with that thought, Blizzard shook off the last remnants of unease, dusting off his pants and quickly extinguishing the fire, erasing any sign of his presence in this part of the dream. He wouldn't abandon someone in need, no matter how strange or annoying that someone was.

Blizzard: Let's go. We can't waste any time. Yen-Sid might be in trouble.

Perched on a nearby log, its small body rigid with a mix of concern and irritation, Chirithy gave Blizzard a long, withering stare.

Chirithy: Oh, I'm sure the great and powerful sorcerer is just having a wonderful time by himself, probably playing chess with a Nightmare or... eating a heartless, as you both so love to do. I mean, it's not as if he is a grown man, an all mighty sorcerer that decided to live as a hermit for the last few years, and cannot protect himself, now, can he?

Chirithy let out an exasperated sigh.

Chirithy: Honestly, Blizzard, why do you insist on dragging me into this mess? You can practically feel his arrogance through those dimensions, and you still think we should go save him? What is the logic of that, exactly?

Blizzard: But... what if he's not? What if he was attacked?

Chirithy: Oh, he definitely was attacked, alright! His arrogance and his big mouth got him attacked, I'm sure! Honestly, you know that even a single shadow can't take him out, so why are we even hesitating? Let's go. Let's finish this trial and save ourselves from further complications! It is your life I am concerned about, and not that sorcerer and his crazy ideas, ok?

Blizzard nodded, though the Dream Eater's sarcasm did little to quell his growing sense of apprehension. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Blizzard: We need to go. And if he is not in trouble then we simply keep moving foward. But if he is... then at least we could do something about it.

With that, he began to move, stepping into the next clearing with Chirithy hovering behind him, a small, almost unnoticeable cloud of purple light. Thus, after many dangerous sleeping giant toxic Mushrooms, that looked like something taken out of a child's nightmare, the path finally opened, and he arrived at the portal to the Fourth Zone.

He stepped through the swirling energy, and the world around him warped and changed in an instant, before solidifying into a new form. He found himself standing before an expanse of cold, desolate land, buffeted by the strong gusts of a snowstorm.

The blizzard obscured everything around him, making it hard to see more than a few meters ahead. Blizzard was forced to raise his titanium arm in front of his face, using it as a makeshift visor to try and focus, his heart thumping with a mix of excitement and anxiety, as he took a few tentative steps forward.

The first indication of their destination pierced through the swirling snow, a colossal sign standing stark against the grey sky, proclaiming its presence despite the heavy cloak of winter. The sign was large, its surface obscured by layers of snow and ice, yet, the words, barely visible through the icy veil, still managed to catch the eye.

' DREAM - L A N D'

Blizzard: That's... a park?

Chirithy: I wouldn't call it that.

Chirithy paused, its small form almost hidden in the shadow of a large, snow-covered rock. It turned its head slowly, looking from left to right as if searching for something in the distance, the snow swirling around it making it harder to see clearly.

Chirithy: I... I don't remember... this layer. I've been in this realm longer than anyone, well, except for the King and his Knight, but, even that long ago, I cannot recall this place ever existing... I... should have known this layer, right? It was... something else, before all of this...

Chirithy tilted its large rounded head to the left as though a memory was almost present, so close, but just out of reach. Its eyes seemed to be fixed on something beyond their reality, or at least, something beyond their comprehension.

Blizzard felt as if Chirithy's gaze was now focused on a memory that was long gone. The thought of his companion now remembering some of the events of the past, even though blurred by time, gave him a slight sense of hope.

A quick and small blur that passed like a shooting star made Chirithy's eyes widen for a second before it returned to normal, and only leaving behind a faint sense of discomfort.

Chirithy: ...No, it seems as if my memories... are just as corrupted as everything else here. Maybe this is a new addition? Or maybe I'm just... forgetful. Either way, there are Nightmares lurking around. I can sense them. Something is off, though. And that is beyond simply the corrupted nature of this realm. I'm sure it's nothing but a simple byproduct of what had turned this place to. Don't worry about it.

Blizzard: The Sovereign?

Chirithy: Yes. The one we need to avoid. The king was... different... back then.

Chirithy shook its head as if trying to shake off that old memory before continuing.

Chirithy: What was I even saying? Right, let's keep moving forward. Remember what I said. We do not have time to linger. And also, be on guard.

Chirithy turned back to face forward, leaving his head hanging in front of his body, as Blizzard focused on the entrance once more.

Moving loser, the wind tugging at his clothes, his gaze fixed on the entrance, a large, elaborate archway constructed of wrought iron that seemed to twist into grotesque shapes, almost alive.

Intricate carvings adorned its surface, depicting smiling clowns with razor-sharp teeth, and other figures that were equally disturbing and wrong, their forms distorting and wriggling, as though they were trying to break free. The path leading towards it was paved with white cobblestones, their once pristine surface now buried under a thick blanket of snow and ice, yet, still visible with some effort.

The park itself was vast, an enormous wasteland that stretched out in all directions, an unsettling expanse of dilapidated roller coasters, broken carnival booths, and decaying attractions. Everything seemed to be covered in a heavy layer of snow, creating a desolate, almost surreal landscape where joy had been replaced with only an unsettling silence.

The air held a heavy stillness, devoid of the sounds of laughter, or excited shouts, a place where fun had clearly ceased to exist long ago, leaving behind an unsettling void. It felt old, forgotten, as though it had been abandoned centuries before, its existence only a distant, painful memory.

As Blizzard stepped through the archway, he felt something shift, a small vibration that seemed to come from deep inside his very bones. He looked at Frostbite, and saw the crystal at its core pulsing with a soft, yet vibrant blue light.

Blizzard: Did you see that?

Chirithy: Yes, I believe it's in synchronization with this cold environment. It's only logical to say that an ice-based Keyblade could perform better in colder climates, or something to that degree.

Blizzard nodded slowly, his attention still captivated by the crystal as it continued to emit a soft glow, the light intensifying, almost in response to his gaze.

Blizzard: I see. That's... rather interesting, actually.

He took a few more steps forward, his boots crunching on the frozen snow, and began to explore this strange, abandoned place, his mind on overdrive. He couldn't help but wonder why such a place existed, why a game park was in this kind of place, so far away from civilization. What had been the purpose of its creation, and what were the reasons it had been left to rot in the first place?

The park was an endless vista of damaged games, roller coasters, and attractions. The snow had covered everything, creating a beautiful, if slightly disturbing, winter wonderland. Yet, even under the heavy cover of the snow, he could still tell that something was terribly wrong.

The place had once been filled with laughter and the cheerful cries of children, with the excited shouts of friends and the sounds of music, yet, all that was left was a deafening silence that pressed on them both. It felt as though life itself had long since abandoned this place. The games had no players, the rides had no passengers, and the laughter was gone, replaced with only the sound of the howling wind and the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet.

Blizzard moved further in, his steps guided by a growing sense of unease. He began to carefully explore the different parts of the park, moving past various stalls and attractions. His steps were fast and frantic, as though he was trying to outrun his thoughts. The landscape slowly changed, revealing different types of entertainment, all damaged, covered in snow, and left to decay.

He saw a racing track, the damaged cars lying on their side. A shooting gallery, the targets cracked and broken. A large Ferris wheel, still swaying in the wind. And a carnival section with various games of skill and chance that were all mostly destroyed.

Each step further fueled a sense of urgency. Every moment wasted could mean life or death for Yen-Sid. He refused to slow down, even as his body began to ache from the prolonged walking. He moved at a frantic pace through the Fourth Layer of the Dream World, swinging and slashing at every single Nightmare that dared to get close, each blow an explosion of icy energy that cleaved through their dark forms, dissipating their bodies and leaving no trace behind.

He moved with unnerving quickness and coordination, each action measured and deliberate. Every Nightmare was felled with a single, impactful strike. A swift silver flash through the air. His heart accelerated, each pulse a demanding rhythm urging him onwards, as he pressed through the park.

As he went further in, the struggles intensified slowly. The Nightmares were no longer collapsing with a single strike, and a growing unease settled within him as the last creature's form remained almost completely intact, its body resisting his full attack. This one required a more focused approach. He charged once more, delivering a rapid succession of powerful cuts that eventually split the creature in two, its body bursting with purple fluid everywhere before it vanished.

He inhaled sharply, a new concern taking hold of his chest. This resistance was a clear indication that they were venturing deeper into the distorted realm. Caution was now required, a need to conserve his resources and energy, as these enemies were becoming a real risk. However, his primary concern for Yen-Sid still drove him onward, his pace remaining high, even if his heart was now hammering in his chest.

He then heard Chirithy's voice and it pulled him back to the present.

Chirithy: It... it's quiet, now. Too quiet... Do you think they will come back? The Nightmares, I mean. They usually don't linger that long, unless...

Chirithy paused, as if reconsidering something, before letting out a small sigh.

Chirithy: You've been quiet, lost in your own thoughts, haven't you? So, did you, perhaps, considered what I asked you about yesterday? Do you still think we can make it with just Frostbite alone? Because I don't... And don't give me that stupid face, it's important.

A small, almost imperceptible tremor ran through Blizzard as he turned his head toward the Dream Eater, his eyes narrowing slightly as he dismissed Frostbite with a silent gesture, a clear sign that he knew what Chirithy was about to say.

Chirithy: I'm still waiting for your answer. Will you consider...using Inferno, just... to help with this mess? At least until we're out of the Dream World, with The Sovereign and The Lunatic and The Organization, and all of this nonsense is finally over? Or will you continue on to simply refuse as if you... never surpassed that fear?

Blizzard remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the path ahead, his mind was far away from this place.

His memory was once again plagued by fragments of the past, fleeting images of the searing heat that had coursed through him every time he had been forced to wield Inferno.

He had been consumed by a rage he barely understood, a fury born from the sight of a life extinguished, a familiar form pierced by a hundred wounds while the perpetrator of that atrocity still breathed. He had watched, with a perverse satisfaction, as the body that was once Jareth Vex had turned to cinders, the flames devouring flesh and bone, leaving behind nothing but a trail of smoke and the lingering scent of burnt flesh.

And he had felt something akin to pleasure while watching as the flames consumed his killer in a display of agonizing power. His gaze had lingered on the burning form instead of focusing on the one that lay dying. That was his failing, and that was the source of his shame.

When Norgam had pushed him to the limit, and the only option he had to save himself, was to grip Inferno, even though it burned him both from the inside and the outside, the agony he had endured, those moments of blind, unrestrained fury, made him tremble even now, that heat seemingly consuming his very flesh and bones.

And that feminine presence, that still remained a complete mystery, and he felt like that experience had not been his own to begin with. Was he in control, during that fight with Norgam? Or was it something else that was guiding him? Were those flames truly his, or simply an extension of a power that was borrowed, a borrowed power that sought only violence?

He wondered if that unseen voice belonged to Inferno. But it did not make any sense. Why would a Keyblade possess its own mind?

Unless... unless.

How did someone even awaken to a second Keyblade? How could a second Keyblade, even exist in the first place? Or did someone simply gave him that Keyblade? Or worse, had he perhaps stolen it? Was he a thief before losing his memories? Did he even have the right to hold such power? Perhaps his amnesia was a punishment for his actions. And this second Keyblade that had brought so much misery... it wasn't his to begin with.

He didn't know, and the answers, as usual, remained elusive, locked away by Yen-Sid's peculiar mix of arrogance and aloofness. Yen-Sid had never deigned to offer a single explanation about how he himself managed to wield two Keyblades, treating the knowledge as some kind of divine secret not meant to be shared with lesser beings.

It was as though he, and he alone, held the key to such mastery, some rare power that was far beyond everyone else, and beyond understanding. Perhaps it was his own delusions of power that made him keep that knowledge to himself, as if everyone were not ready, or capable to wield two Keyblades, even though that he claimed that it was entirely possible for a Keyblade Wielder to summon more than 4 or even 5 Keyblades, or whatever nonsense he had spouted that fateful day.

Perhaps he feared that if he revealed the process, he would no longer be as exceptional, as unique. Maybe he feared to not be regarded as the greatest if others too, could achieve what he had managed.

Blizzard doubted that anyone could actually wield more than two Keyblade with perfection, for the very energy that it demanded to wield a second, could break apart anyone before their very first attempt. And two Keyblades was considered to be an impossible feat, an anomaly even. Perhaps the limit was truly only one?

He knew, without a trace of a doubt, that Yen-Sid would likely never share any insight on the process, fearing, perhaps, that if others could access such power, his own supposed greatness would be diminished, his value as some kind of master would simply vanish. It was a small blessing that Yen-Sid never discovered Inferno during their grueling year in the Keyblade Graveyard.

The very idea of how the sorcerer might have reacted, or what he might have done, sent a wave of nausea through Blizzard, as he could barely imagine the chaos that could have ensued, if his training were to be suddenly revoked. He would had probably used that as an excuse to refuse any further teaching of any kind. And for the first time, he started wondering, would Josiah's death had been for nothing if the sorcerer had simply turned his back and abandoned him? All of this simply to protect his own fragile ego? All of that... could had been for nothing?

'That guy... his ego is a bottomless pit.'

Blizzard took a deep breath, and slowly opened his mouth to ask.

Blizzard: Chirithy, do you think that I'm-

Before he could finish his question, a series of high-pitched, almost maniacal laughters ripped through the biting wind, the sound resonating through the snowy landscape with an unnerving, mocking quality. It was coming from within the game park, carried by the wind as though a sinister melody, sending a cold shiver down Blizzard's spine, a feeling of both disgust and concern.

A blurry figure shot across their field of view, moving with an almost simian-like agility, jumping from one decaying game booth to another, leaving behind a disturbing trail of crimson blood in the snow. It was Yen-Sid! Moving with a reckless, frantic pace, his naked form a chaotic mix of pale skin and the intricate tattoos that swirled across his body, screaming gibberish that was almost incomprehensible.

Jareth Sid: Do you hear me, you simpletons?! You meat bags?! You will be consumed by time! Like bugs on a tree! Hahahahah! You cannot understand! You are bound by the laws of the flesh and all its limitations! You are all fools! To die as sheep! Look at me now! I have surpassed that limitation! HAHAHAHAHAAHA!

Chirithy: What in the world...

Chirithy's voice was barely a whisper, a mixture of horror and disgust, and disbelief, as it watched the unhinged display. Its small body shuddered, and its usual composure, was nowhere to be seen. The sight of Yen-Sid, so utterly deranged and unhinged, was far beyond what Chirithy had anticipated, a feeling of growing apprehension rising within its core.

Blizzard: Yen-Sid!

Blizzard moved without thinking, his body reacting on pure instinct as he began his chase, the sight of Yen-Sid so broken, and vulnerable, making his heart leap in concern. He ignored Chirithy's frantic calls to stop, Frostbite appearing in his right hand as he charged foward, desperate to understand what had happened to the man, his mind filled with a mixture of worry and a growing sense of foreboding.

Blizzard: Stop! Wait for me!

Blizzard continued to run forward, ignoring the agonizing pain throughout his body, his words a desperate plea that was lost in the swirling snow, as the laughter and the blood trail were suddenly cut off, disappearing into the dense fog, leaving behind an eerie silence that felt heavier, more unnerving, as the cold, chilling feeling descended upon his skin. He pushed forward, his boots crunching on the frozen ground, Frostbite held tightly in his right hand, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain his pace. He did not want to stop. He could not afford to stop.

The swirling snow had grown thicker now, transforming the once desolate game park into a white void, making it almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him. He slowed, his vision blurring as the biting wind whipped at his face, the snow falling fast and heavy, obscuring any landmark.

Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to navigate by the sounds that surrounded him. He pushed forward blindly, relying on the memory of Yen-Sid's manic laughter as he stumbled through the snow-covered landscape, hoping that he would not run into something, that his head would not suddenly smash against a wall, or a large, frozen post. He reached out his left hand as he moved, feeling the soft snow on his skin and using that to guide himself as the wind grew stronger, the snow pelting his face and the cold threatening to numb his very skin.

His feet snagged on something unseen, and with a jarring thud, he pitched forward, his head colliding against a hard surface that resonated with a hollow sound. A groan escaped his lips as his vision slowly adjusted to the faint, artificial light, his eyes focusing on his surroundings. He was no longer outside in the storm, but inside, laying on a thick, plush carpet. The force of his body had pushed through a set of large double sliding doors that now stood closed behind him, leaving him sprawled out on his chest. He had not stumbled against a wall but had instead fallen through a doorway.

He pushed himself up, his muscles stiff and aching, his mind trying to piece together the sudden change in his surroundings, while brushing the remaining snow off his clothing, his gaze drawn to the enormous space surrounding him, as the echo of the storm outside seemed to fade into an almost complete silence that was replaced with the faintest of hums from the machinery of this giant hall, a hollow, yet unnerving sound that seemed to pulse with an unknown energy.

His eyes darted around, trying to absorb every detail. To his far right, a collection of modern arcane game machines stood, their vibrant screens displaying enticing gameplay loops. Each machine showcased a different genre, a multitude of worlds condensed into glowing rectangles.

A racing game, complete with a molded, fake motorcycle in blue, white and red, complete with detailed controls and a small digital screen, showing sleek vehicles that zoomed along a digital track at breakneck speeds.

A fighting game where detailed fighters clashed with explosive animations and intense collisions dominated one screen, showcasing a dizzying display of martial arts and superhuman abilities. Then, next to it were the shooters. A co-op shooter displayed two muscular men, civilians trapped in an impossible situation, clad in simple, if slightly ridiculous, clothes, one wearing a bright blue shirt and jeans, the other in a similarly gaudy red attire, blasting their way through a poorly rendered, modern city.

They were mowing down hordes of enemies, what looked like hired killers and mercenaries. Attached to the game machine by thick, unwieldy electrical cords, one coated in tacky blue plastic, and the other in an equally garish red. The game had a strange feature, two small padestal, located under the rifle, designed to activate a Cower Mode when the players stepped on it, allowing them to crouch or move behind the low walls to avoid incoming bullets.

Their entire premise was a desperate, cliché-ridden attempt to rescue their kidnapped girlfriend from a mad scientist, who's motivations were, of course, world domination. Their journey was an utterly predictable sequence of shooting their way through waves of generic mercenaries, cartoonish hired killers, and even, for some reason, the local police?

Rexus: Seriously, Brad, why are we even here? I mean, why are the police even trying to stop us?

Brad: Who knows, Rexus, who cares, just keep shooting! You're blocking my shot! Just keep moving and don't let them hurt Marie!

Rexus: Marie? That's her name? Right... well, whatever. Let's just finish this nonsense so we can get this over with, okay? I'm starving. And also, you were supposed to use the EMP there! Why are you so predictable!?

Brad: Well, you should had been behind me! And for the love of God, will you stop complaining for one single second? I thought you were a professional!? If anything happens to Marie, I will never forgive you! Also you were supposed to grab that healing kit earlier!

Rexus: Oh, now it's my fault? Why are you even yelling? I have been behind you the entire time! You never watch my flank! And also, she is fineeeee! What are you even worried about!?

Brad: This IS serious! Don't be such a jerk! Just focus! And look out!

Rexus: A big mutated meatball? What kind of a villain is that?! Honestly, that doctor must have been so bored when he came up with this thing! He should had asked us for advice!

Brad: Enough, Rexus! I can't even believe that I'm fighting beside you! I'm wasting so much potential and skill! And you call this a villain? This is the mad scientist, Rexus! The one that kidnapped Marie!

Brad: Exactly!

The Final Boss, a towering figure in a lab coat, sporting a large, cartoonish grin, unleashed some kind of energy blast. The text below the boss's health bar read.

'Dr. Insano'

Dr. Insano: Hahahaha! You fools! I will dominate this world, even if you have to stop me first, you pathetic, worthless fools! All of you are meant to be controlled by me!

Rexus and Brad fired their weapons, almost hitting each other as they were trying to advance. This back and forth, this nonsensical, uninspired gameplay and idiotic dialogues made Blizzard chuckle, shaking his head with amusement, as the sheer absurdity of it all was starting to grow on him. It was so bad... that it was almost endearing.

Another shooter depicted a team of pirates, all dressed in strangely historically accurate, yet wildly impractical outfits, battling through various levels of a haunted island. They were mowing down waves of decaying, rotting undead, using weapons that ranged from flintlock pistols and cutlasses, to something that looked like a strange mix between a blunderbuss and a flamethrower. The final level depicted the player, now armed with a ludicrously large cannon-like rifle, facing a gigantic Kraken.

The Kraken was holding the entire pirate ship above the water with its massive tentacles, the ship suspended in mid-air with creaking and groaning timbers, as the players were tasked to shoot at various glowing weak points, the tentacles thrashing wildly as the cannon shot had little effect, creating a display of a terrible and chaotic battle.

The game demanded rapid button presses in various quick-time events (QTEs) to aim the cannon, forcing the players to act within a split second. A single failure in the QTE lead to a sudden 'Game Over' screen, where the pirate ship would get crushed by the Kraken, the pirate figures flying with cartoonishly violent movements, as their bodies were suddenly consumed by the massive tentacles with a disturbing squelching sound, the whole display ending with an offer to 'Insert Coin' once more. The sheer incongruity of it all was almost captivating. The fact that the characters used antiquated pistols and cutlasses, yet were somehow able to inflict damage on something so enormous, was so jarring that it was funny.

Each screen was accompanied by bold, flashing text that demanded, 'Insert Coin,' or for the shooter games: 'Insert Coin For Second Player' or 'Insert More Coin For Second Player.' The text was flickering with different colors and patterns, almost screaming, desperately trying to attract players to spend more coins on their machines. The whole place felt out of time and space, yet oddly inviting.

His mind, for a brief moment, wandered away from the surreal displays and he thought about the Real World, whatever that could be, as he was beginning to question, had all of these existed back then? Were those people, and those worlds, something that he had experienced, or did he simply create them within his own mind?

It was odd, that despite not remembering his past, he did have clear pictures, or at least, sensations, of some kinds of advanced technology. Had he ever lived through that, did he see all of those things with his own eyes? Or was it simply his own mind filling the blanks, using what little he could scavenge from this strange, and terrifying place? The same way he had created those two annoying characters as a twisted and weird way to see his own world?

To his front right were several ticket vending machines, their designs sleek and modern, crafted with polished metal and smooth glass, their screens flickering with an array of brightly colored graphics and text, all silently promising prizes, and rewards, for those willing to play.

And, further ahead, he saw entrances leading to different movie theaters, each one dark and quiet, with brightly lit signs that were mostly obscured by the shadows. To his left was another corridor leading into more, hidden sections of the cinema, but with no sounds nor movement. His gaze was then drawn up, towards the high celling, that stretched far above his head, its surface patterned with geometric designs that looked oddly out of place, and with large, strangely placed speaker systems.

Chirithy materialized behind him, a small flicker of purple in the subdued light, its usual air of sarcastic indifference was now replaced with a subtle unease, its body almost trembling.

Chirithy: What in the name of... What is this place?

Blizzard ignored Chirithy, his eyes glued to his surroundings. He had not felt like this for as long as he could remember. The air felt different here, and he couldn't quite place his finger on it, an odd combination of calmness and the lingering presence of something, something that was hidden and silent. A sense of security he had never experienced in this world, or any other. Could it be?

He took a step forward, his boots soundlessly landing on the soft carpet, his thoughts racing as he walked towards the center of the main hall. He had never seen a cinema before, but the very design of this place, the lights and the space, they felt almost... real. Was this the Real World? Could this place be connected to what he had lost? To his past? Or was it another illusion of this strange and cruel realm?

As he moved closer to the movie listings, he paused, his eyes scanning the list of films. All the titles were unfamiliar, names he did not recognise.

Arrival - Captain America: Civil War - Deadpool - Doctor Strange - Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them - Hacksaw Ridge - Hell or High Water - Hidden Figures - Hunt for the Wilderpeople -Jackie - La La Land - 10 Cloverfield Lane - Manchester by the Sea - Moana - Moonlight - Nocturnal Animals -Paterson - Rogue One: A Star Wars Story - Sing Street -The Witch.

Blizzard continued to stare at the various posters that were hanging in front of him. His expression was now relaxed and calm, his body less rigid. All sense of danger, and unease he had felt in the Dream World, had vanished the moment he entered that building, leaving behind a feeling of calmness he could not explain. If this was a Dream, it was a strange one, very different from anything that he had previously encountered. It felt almost too familiar, too real to be part of that chaotic landscape.

Blizzard: Hey, I think... I think we might have actually made it! This place is... this place is real! Maybe it's over, Chirithy. I... I think we might be in the real world.

His voice was soft, almost a whisper, tinged with a hope he had not allowed himself to feel in a long time. His body relaxed, a sigh of relief he had not realized he was holding within his chest, escaping into the still air. He wanted to be in this place, to grasp at the sensation of reality, his long lost past seemingly just within reach.

Chirithy: Blizzard...

Chirithy's voice was flat, its tone devoid of its usual sarcasm, a subtle tremor replacing it. It moved closer to him, its small form almost trembling.

Chirithy: I... I don't think so. We're still in the Dream World. I know it. Something feels wrong. Horribly wrong. There is... nothing here. Not even the familiar essence of the countless spirits that are usually surrounding us in the Dream World. It's... unsettling. Like we stepped into a void, a place where even those beings fear to tread. I can't sense anything, but... this isn't good. Not at all. And more importantly... I can't sense Yen-Sid. He's not here, either. We... we do not have time to be distracted.

Blizzard stood silent for a moment, his hand lingering on a cool, metallic railing, as though he were reluctant to let go of the sensation. This, he thought, this was it. The world he had been searching for. He wanted this feeling to linger. He craved this sense of security.

He knew, somewhere deep down, that Chirithy was right. The absence of any trace of the spirits and nightmares, and the strange silence that filled this place, they were unsettling beyond any reason.

Blizzard: It's... quiet. This place is too quiet.

His voice was low, his gaze fixed on the ground, as he finally accepted that this was not his reality. The fleeting hope he had felt now replaced with an old, familiar feeling of unease.

Blizzard: We should find Yen-Sid, then. Let's just... take a look around. He could be anywhere. And he was... he was not in a good shape.

He paused, as he focused his attention on the strangely lit ceiling, his gaze shifting from one bizarre architectural design to another, his mind racing as he sought an answer.

Blizzard: Let's just... make sure he is okay.

Chirithy: Fine, but be quick about it. Because whatever this place is... it feels... wrong. We shouldn't linger, you can feel it, right? Even you should feel it, the cold, and unnatural silence? Just do not forget, that your life is still in danger.

Blizzard reluctantly nodded, his gaze drawn towards the main central hallway, his boots landing softly on the plush carpet. He moved with a newfound caution, his senses on high alert as he took his time to inspect the various food stores, each one fully stocked with snacks and drinks. He then focused on the area where people would normally have presented tickets, but there was no one there, only rows of silent ticket validation machines.

He then looked up at large screens displaying the start times of the movies, each title showing glitching hours, with red and green lights flashing erratically next to each time. His gaze moved along the endless list of theaters, his mind trying to assess which direction was more beneficial for him to check first. He had to be quick, whatever was going on, was not natural, and the sooner they left, the better. He made a small nod to himself, fixing his gaze on theater number six.

Blizzard: Let's check that one, first.

Chirithy followed Blizzard's gaze toward the screen above them.

'Rogue One: A Star Wars Story'

Chirithy: That's... a rather strange name.

Its eyes narrowed, its form rigid with an emotion that was a mixture of unease and disbelief. It was as though its entire form was trying to make sense of something that could not be explained or even comprehended, and with an apprehensive sigh, it followed Blizzard, its head shaking as though something was terribly wrong.

Blizzard walked towards as his eyes scanned the space, his hands brushing against the surface of the wall as he moved. The numbers were gigantic, each one clearly marked on the walls, with a large font, making it impossible to miss their placements. A huge '1' was located above a large door to his far left, and another huge '2' was marked on the adjacent wall to his right. He saw '3' '4' and '5' in the same manner, all in a perfect row from left to right. And, finally, the number that they needed, a large and prominent '6' was directly in front of them, just beside the '7.'

Pushing through the double doors, his boots landing softly on the plush carpet of the hallway that led into Room 6. A heavy, unnerving silence seemed to press in on him from all sides, his eyes scanned around before he began walking forward. He moved slowly, his hand resting on the smooth wall as he passed through the dim space. He could hear the low hum of machinery and an odd vibration coming from within, but other than that, it was silent, and still.

He reached another double door, and with a deep breath, pushed forward, entering Room 6 of the cinema, and instantly, he was met by a spectacle that was both bizarre and unsettling.

The theater was enormous, rows upon rows of cushioned seats, all bathed in an eerie, artificial light emanating from the walls, their surface designed with glowing light fixtures. A large red curtains from the ceiling, obscured the entire wall where the screen would normally be.

He moved further in, slowly ascending the gently sloping floor towards the stage, his steps echoing softly in the vast space, yet the air remained heavy, unyielding, his heart started to throb, a clear sign that something was terribly amiss, and his hand tightened around Frostbite.

Blizzard: Hello? Is anyone there?

His voice was swallowed up by the silence, no answer came to his frantic calls.

Finally, he reached the highest point in the room, where he could see the entire stage. As he looked down, the red carpet retracted with an almost elegant grace, pulling up with a whooshing sound, finally revealing a stage play set as if it was a play house, and at its center was Yen-Sid.

A large sweater, its red, gray, and black color scheme clashing against the pale skin. It's as if it has been haphazardly thrown together whatever was available, the material looking cheap and worn, with visible stitches and frayed edges, as though it was a low-budget, homemade costume. A ridiculously tall top hat sits perched precariously on the head, its dark surface adding to the bizarre effect. Attached to the base of the chin is a long, white fake beard, made of what appears to be animal hair and glue, that barely conceals the clean-shaven jaw. And, to top it all off, a sock puppet is in each hand, one in the left hand, and another in the right.

The one in his left hand, resembled Blizzard, or a poor copy of him, with spiky dark-blue fabric mimicking his hair, and tiny black buttons for eyes. The one in his right hand, was equally as strange and unsettling, with magenta wool yarn as the hair, along with equally tiny, black buttons for eyes. It looked like a crude representation of Yen-Sid himself.

Yen-Sid's voice began to shift wildly, altering its tone as he switched from one puppet to another, his tone a chaotic mix of voices, a deranged and frantic performance in front of an empty theater. His actions were erratic, his movements quick and jerky as his words filled with delusional ranting.

Sock-Sid: My little friends! Can you see them? They are everywhere! Do you hear their whisper, my little lambs? The all-seeing eyes. The eyes in the walls! Hahahahha! You are all being watched! They're always watching us, you know? Every little thing we do! They always know everything and that is why we should always... listen.

Sock-Blizzard: Wow! Really? You are so smart, Master!

Sock-Sid: Yes! Of course, I am, little me! Can you simply imagine the power one could have with so many eyes looking out to this world! The absolute control that one could have! So, now, I can do it right?

Sock-Blizzard: I know, right? What could be done with so much power? It must be wonderful and so powerful! I cannot even start to imagine!

Sock-Sid: Oh, do not get carried away so soon! Why use power for war and conquest? No, we must use it to rest and to be left in peace! To leave those Heartless and Nobodies to do whatever they want to do, right? They're so scary and violent, after all. It's best to leave them alone and see them live their lives!

Sock-Blizzard: Oh yes! Master, you are correct! But what about the duty of a Keyblade Wielder?

Sock-Sid: Duty? Duty? There is no duty! There is no rule! The universe is nothing more than my Kingdom! And to live under it is to live under my rule! And as the King, I will never be bothered ever again!

Sock-Blizzard: Oh wow, that must be so exhausting! But, what's the point of having a kingdom if the King doesn't do anything but sit on his throne? That...that sounds really sad, doesn't it? So, all of this... this power, is just... to be? You... you will simply watch as the darkness eats everythi-

Sock-Sid: I AM IMPORTANT! I AM THE KING! I AM THE ONLY ONE! I AM EVERYTHING! ALL THE POWER, IT'S ALL MINE! MY LEGACY WILL LAST FOR ALL ETERNITY! IT MUST! IT MUST BE MINE! ALL OF IT! THIS UNIVERSE IS MINE! I AM IN CONTROL! I AM IN CONTROL!

The crazed, and deranged performance went on and on as Blizzard could only watch in disbelief, his mind struggling to comprehend the sheer scope of what he was witnessing.

He had to put a stop to it. This was... This was not the Yen-Sid that he had grown to respect, this broken and delusional version was a perversion of what he could be, a threat to all, even to himself.

Blizzard: Yen-Sid! Stop! It's me!

Blizzard rushed down the slopes, the soft carpet muffling his footsteps as he moved towards the stage, with Chirithy just behind him, his voice echoing in the vast space, his hand reaching out to grasp onto the other sorcerer's shoulder, to stop him from descending any deeper into madness, yet his words seemed to be lost on his deaf ears, as though he could not even hear them both.

Blizzard: Are you even listening to us?

Yen-Sid continued his bizarre puppet show, seemingly ignoring them completely, the puppets moving faster and more frantically as his voice morphed from one to the other.

Chirithy: What happened? Why are you... Why are you even like this? Naked?

What kind of insane sorcerer would strip naked in the snow? Was he trying to get himself killed? He had to have used something that caused a secondary effect on his mind, that was the only explanation that it could come up with.

Sock-Sid: SHUT THE FUCK UP! Do you not see? Do you not understand?! Do you know who I am? Look at me... I...I am the one who carries the weight of this entire universe! I AM the only one... Why is it so difficult?! To be understood?! To be treated with respect?! It's been a whole life! A whole world! A whole universe of suffering! And I can never be the one! I am just the sorcerer, aren't I?!

Sock-Sid: I will never be the one. Never the first choice. Never anything more than this... Why wouldn't I have the right to rule and impose my will upon others? I deserve it... It's only fair. After losing everything... because my family were so weak and desperate to find a way out, to do something, why shouldn't I, have the right? That's what he wanted, my brother! To become more! To be better! And look where it got him! So why, then... Why not me?!

Sock-Blizzard But... Master, we were only trying to help.

His voice broke into a choked sob, as he furiously moved the puppets around, his face contorted in a grotesque expression as his rant started to make less and less sense, growing more and more irrational and frantic with each passing second.

A sudden bright light began to fill the space, a brilliant ray shining down from above, bathing the wall with a vibrant light. With a loud whirring, the wall transformed, a giant screen descending from the ceiling, coming to life with a dazzling array of colors and movement, pulling all attention away from Yen-Sid. He seemed to forget his puppets, his past, his world, as his mouth hung open, his eyes wide with a childlike curiosity as he stared at the animated screen.

Jareth Sid: Wow! What... what is that?!

His words were barely a whisper, lost in the sudden burst of images and sounds. The screen displayed vibrant ads for candy and fast food, their colors almost blinding in their intensity, the images shifting and swirling with an unnatural speed, the text flashing in a disorienting array of patterns.

Yen-Sid let out a strangled gasp, his eyes darting wildly back and forth. He released a high-pitched yelp, and scrambled back on all fours, his movements mirroring a startled ape, his body contorted as he climbed atop a nearby railing, his hands clutching it as though it was his only anchor to the world. He was behaving like a wild animal, his eyes fixed upon the flickering images, his mind no longer processing what was around him. He made a series of frantic noises, a high pitched series of screeches, howls and clicks.

Blizzard's heart pounded, a mixture of fear and disbelief taking hold of his senses, as he gazed at the display, a growing dread settling in his gut as he watched the sorcerer move with jerky, erratic movements, his body now coiled and tense, his eyes widened, as though a creature that had suddenly found itself in an entirely new environment. He had never seen someone descend into madness so completely, and so quickly.

He couldn't bear to stand by. With a speed borne out of that desperate need, he surged forward, his metallic palm connecting with Yen-Sid's cheek with a sharp, resounding smack.

The force of the impact was sufficient to rip off the poorly attached, fake beard, sending it and the sock puppets tumbling to the ground, along with a small splatter of barely cleaned blood. Yen-Sid's head snapped to the side with a jolt, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan as the sensation on his cheek slowly registered.

His gaze, no longer fixed on the screen, swept across the cinema, taking in the rows of vacant seats, the walls adorned with glowing lights, the vastness of the space. It was a scan of a person who was comprehending where they stood, his eyes reflecting a growing awareness.

A worried expression slowly replaced his earlier state of crazed glee. His breath hitched, his eyes widening as he slowly began to realize the absurd circumstances he had found himself in, and his own role within that bizarre scene, with blood still coating his body, yet no longer naked. He moved a hand to his cheek, his expression a mixture of confusion, self-loathing and a growing, unnerving realization of what he had become. He stared down at his blood-stained fingers, then at the floor where he saw the discarded beard and sock puppets

Chirithy: Well, someone finally did it. I didn't think it was possible. Not that he didn't deserve it, though.

Blizzard approached cautiously, his Keyblade still held in a defensive stance, the intensity of his grip slowly easing, his features tight with a mixture of worry and a growing concern. He had never seen Yen-Sid like that, and he found himself wondering what had broken him so completely, what had pushed him over the edge.

Blizzard: Yen-Sid... are you alright? What was... what was that all about? Why were you acting like... that? And why were you... Why were you outside in the snow? You were... naked... there were Nightmares! Do you even understand what could have happened if we were not there to stop you!?

Yen-Sid's breath hitched, his eyes darting nervously from side to side, his form trembling as if he had suddenly found himself submerged in ice cold water. He seemed to want to say something, yet the words struggled to form, his mouth opening and closing without producing a single sound. He then looked directly at Blizzard.

Jareth Sid: You... You don't understand! It was... it's... The Dreamsca-

Chirithy felt it first, a deep rumble that seemed to originate from the very core of the building, as if the entire structure had started to vibrate. The gentle hum that had filled the cinema had suddenly morphed into a violent tremor that could be felt through every bone, every cell of its form. It could feel that the source of this disturbance was drawing ever closer, and with every passing second, that sensation grew stronger, more intense.

It saw everything that followed in a terrifying slow motion. The screen, with its bright ads and frantic motion, was suddenly ripped to shreds, as if the very fabric of reality was violently tearing itself apart. The material fractured outward in a jagged display of uncontrolled force. A large tear in the center of the screen ripped open, its edges glowing with an unnerving energy as a towering form suddenly invaded their space.

It ripped through the wall of light and sound with a speed that defied comprehension, its sheer mass causing the entire room to shake as the screen shattered and splintered, its remains raining down in a chaotic shower of sharp shards. The newcomer's hands reached out, pushing against the boundaries of the theater, twisting the light, distorting the shadows, and creating a display of absolute and terrifying pandemonium. It was as if the very structure of the cinema itself was rejecting this sudden, violent intrusion.

Chirithy: BLIZZARD!

Before Blizzard could even react, one of the giant, armored limbs slammed into the middle of the screen, creating a massive tear. And with surprising, almost terrifying elegance, the colossal figure pushed its body through, revealing more and more of itself, before sliding down the gentle slopes of the theatre, its momentum briefly carrying its form along the carpeted floor, before it came to a stop with a ground shaking thud. The walls and celling of Room 6 began to shudder and crack, the sudden force of the attack was slowly destroying the foundations of the building, as if the very weight of its presence was enough to cause a complete collapse.

Large chunks of the ceiling and walls began to crumble, raining down towards both Blizzard and Yen-Sid. With a quick and well-practiced maneuver, Blizzard ducked low and dashed backwards, narrowly avoiding a large section of plaster that crashed down near where he had been standing only a second ago.

Yen-Sid, still dazed from his earlier, almost unhinged display, moved with a slower pace, his eyes wide with a mix of confusion and alarm as he stumbled, his form barely dodging a large chunk of the wall that came crashing down, destroying three of the seats behind him, as plaster and debris fell like rain.

Yen-Sid: Wha- What?

His words were a jumbled mix of confusion and fear, as he clutched his head, his lucidity still returning to him slowly. It seemed that the after-effects of whatever had happened had yet to fully pass, as his focus wavered, his mind not fully grasping the sudden and chaotic changes around him.

The tremor caused by the collapsing walls and ceiling jolted through Blizzard's body, the force of the falling rubble making him shake. He struggled to his feet, his muscles screaming in protest as he pushed away a heavy chunk of concrete that had pinned down his legs. His gaze darted around, taking in the destruction, the collapsed remains of the ceiling now letting the full force of the blizzard into the warm room.

He saw Yen-Sid on his knees, his Keyblades cast aside, his gaze fixed on the imposing figure of the Dreamscape Sovereign. The being was standing in the middle of the collapsed screen, his stance radiating a menacing calm, and yet, every fiber of his being was trembling as he looked upon the unbridled, raw might that was now present in their very space. He was poised to deliver the final blow to the defenseless sorcerer, all his focus on killing his target.

Blizzard: YEN-SID!

Blizzard roared, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and anger as he leaped forward, his body moving with an unnatural speed, desperate to save Yen-Sid from a violent and gruesome end. He was unable to parry the upcoming blow in time, but with a desperate lunge, managed to barely deflect the Sovereign's arm just enough, causing it to miss its intended target. The fist, instead, struck the ground with devastating power, the impact sending a massive shockwave that resonated through the very structure of the building, causing another major chunk of the Cinema to collapse.

The collapsing sections of the walls exposed the howling, unforgiving blizzard as the storm suddenly spilled into the interior, its icy tendrils wrapping around the warm air, bringing with it a new wave of terror and disruption.

Yen-Sid let out a terrified scream, as the world around him seemed to twist and invert, the familiar floor vanishing beneath his feet as a new sense of gravity pulled him upwards, away from the scene of devastation.

His mind was too slow, his lucidity had yet to catch up to his own senses. He was floating, without any sense of direction. The swirling chaos made it difficult to see anything at all, the snow and debris blocking any semblance of vision, and he could barely comprehend the sudden shift in gravity. He could not think, could not form a plan. His body was acting before his mind could catch up to the present as he desperately clutched the familiar handles of Wisdom and Enlightenment, his hands summoning them from where they had been knocked away only seconds before.

He thrusted forward with all his might, blindly, desperate to find a foothold in the unpredictable and chaotic world, his hands grasping onto something solid, anchoring him from what he was sure would have been an endless fall towards the heavens, or, what he thought was the sky.

Yen-Sid: Blizzard!

He called out, his voice a strained whisper carried away by the wind, his body trembling as he tried to understand what was happening to him, his mind still swimming with confusion, and a faint, yet persistent reminder of the chaos he had inflicted upon himself. He then saw it, a bright crimson flash piercing through the blinding storm, an odd beacon in the swirling whiteness, pulling at him. It seemed to be calling to him from the left. Before he could fully analyze what he saw, a sudden, unshakeable sensation ripped through his body, a reminder that he was once again under attack.

Yen-Sid propelled himself towards the fleeting beacon, leaping with all his strength. His body moved on pure instinct, ignoring the pain, and the sudden shift in his orientation, as he instinctively threw both Wisdom and Enlightenment like boomerangs in the other direction to, hopefully, distract that monster, before his mind completely blanked as he embraced the familiar sensation of falling. He did not even know what he was doing, yet he knew that every second of hesitation, could mean death.

His eyes closed, a wave of vertigo overcame him as the roar of the attack passed close to his head. His very being, all his atoms and molecules, trembled and resonated.

He felt a sharp wind whistle past his ears, the force of it causing the surrounding air to crackle with unseen energy. His very bones resonated with a disturbing, almost painful vibration. Had he not moved just a second before, his body would have been split in two by a blade that was somehow... invisible. He did not even comprehend how, or why.

He opened his eyes to the sensation of a metallic hand firmly grabbing onto his arm, pulling him towards a more solid surface, as the terrifying attack continued to echo through his very bones.

Blizzard: Hold on!

Yen-Sid looked up, taking a moment to realize that Blizzard had saved him from what would have been a fatal fall.

He then heard Chirithy's small voice.

Chirithy: What in the world was that! The gravity... it has been shifted!

Blizzard nodded, his gaze fixed on the form of the Dreamscape Sovereign, as he pulled Yen-Sid alongside him, both of them now standing on a newly formed wall, the world twisting their perception of gravity itself. An invisible force had contorted their senses, their ability to comprehend their surroundings, and their sense of space, as the previously stable floor had become one of the walls.

The Sovereign slowly fell through the thick fog, his left arm tightened into a fist, poised to strike once more, the previous attempt seeming like nothing more than a test of their reactions. He seemed to be assessing his own strength, carefully measuring his next action. He was too close, too powerful, they were running out of time and options. There was no escaping him. No more second chances.

Yen-Sid's mind finally caught up with the reality of the situation as both he and Blizzard braced themselves for another attack. He could hear nothing but the heavy, ragged sound of his own breathing, and the fast, uneven thump of his own heart, yet, he refused to look away from the creature before him.

With their Keyblades held side by side, three blades now positioned in front of them, Frostbite and Wisdom along with Enlightenment in a desperate attempt to form some kind of defense against whatever was coming, they held on, bracing themselves for the impossible, their forms trembling, their knees buckling under the force.

And they received that blow. The impact, when it came, was a force of nature, an implosion that ripped apart their senses. Their bones screamed in protest, their arms vibrated under the strain, and every cell of their bodies seemed to vibrate as the power of the blow tore through them, sending them both flying backwards like ragdolls, the very wall that had been their temporary foothold collapsing from the sheer force of the attack. They crashed with sickening thuds against the snow-covered ground of the park, the weight of the Sovereign's power pinning them down, as they slid across the icy ground, their bodies battered by the force of the blow.

Yen-Sid coughed, his chest heavy, struggling to push away the broken chunks of concrete and snow that threatened to bury him. He could taste blood in his mouth, his vision swimming as he fought to regain his footing. He used Wisdom and Enlightenment, the sharp edges of the Keyblades digging into the frozen ground as he tried, with great difficulty, to pull himself back onto his feet. Every muscle of his body trembled violently, each breath a strained, agonizing wheeze, and yet he did not give up, holding tightly onto his Keyblades as they offered him a much-needed support.

Yen-Sid: What... What is... What is even the point of all that? That arm...! It doesn't even need to touch me to hurt! How can it even make that attack?

His voice was strained, a mixture of pain, disbelief, and a growing dread as he finally realized the severity of their situation, and he barely had enough time to even comprehend what was happening to them both.

He moved slowly to position himself next to Blizzard, their bodies hunched over, their hands gripping tightly around their respective Keyblades, and with a quick glance, they both acknowledged the growing sense of dread, and a silent agreement that this was a fight they were destined to lose. He could feel his own body beginning to fail as the burning sensation that had been lingering in his chest suddenly intensified, a constant, agonizing reminder of the Sovereign's impossible attack. His mind, was starting to crack as he realized how powerless he had become, as the confusion that had clouded his mind earlier, began to settle into his bones.

He looked down at his blood-soaked clothes, and that old, horrible feeling of detachment came back to him, a reminder that he did not know anything at all, and every time he thought he had, the universe would prove him wrong. This must be some form of a bad dream, or a twisted version of a bad dream, or something he had created to punish himself. This could not be real. Nothing this absurd could ever exist in real life, right? He was merely trapped in some kind of sick cycle.

With its form slowly materializing through the dense fog of the blizzard, the Sovereign spoke again, its voice a low, almost monotonous drone, yet, the weight of its words was enough to make Yen-Sid's stomach twist into a hard knot, as the realization that this creature was not simply playing games finally set in.

Dreamscape Sovereign: For someone that already died, you are remarkably persistent.

Blizzard: What...?

Blizzard's voice was low, his gaze fixed on the ground, his hand tightening around Frostbite as he tried to make sense of the Sovereign's words. He had seen something shift in Yen-Sid, a subtle change that he couldn't quite put into words. He had pulled him from danger only moments before, and yet, the Sovereign's claims suggested something that was beyond comprehension, something that should have been impossible.

Yen-Sid paused for a moment, glancing sideways at Blizzard, his eyes darting quickly towards him before looking down to the snow, a subtle shake of the head as his mouth twisted into a thin, almost bitter smile, his voice low, strained, and almost dismissive as he spoke.

Yen-Sid: Forget about it. I'm still here, aren't I?! And I'm doing the right thing, as always! You know, being better than all of those other fools! I'll show you all, what true power means!

His grip tightened on the handles of both Wisdom and Enlightenment, his stance shifting as he prepared for another strike. He positioned his body, readying himself for a forceful, decisive blow, as he propelled himself forward with all the strength he could muster, both blades colliding and then pulling apart as he thrust forward, unleashing a violent wave of pure magical energy.

The wind tore through the air, ripping apart the heavy fog and snow as though it was nothing more than paper, clearing a wide area that stretched out in a twenty-meter radius around their position. It was as though the world itself had been forcefully pushed away, revealing a small portion of the desolate park and a good remain of that absurdly large Cinema.

The sudden surge of power pushed at the Sovereign's form, yet it did not react, its imposing frame barely shifting from its location, with its arm still held aloft. The power of that technique simply washed over its armor as though it was a mere breeze.

Blizzard seized the opportunity, his body propelled forward with sudden and precise agility as he leaped from the thick fog, and with a cry of frustration, he struck the Sovereign on its right shoulder. His Keyblade impacted with a resounding thud, but the expected damage failed to materialize. He pushed against the hard surface, trying to force his attack further, but the creature's imposing form seemed immovable, impervious to his strength.

Blizzard's eyes widened in disbelief. The Sovereign had barely even flinched, his eyes shifting towards Blizzard, the creature showing absolutely no signs of having been harmed by a direct blow from Frostbite. He was barely fazed.

He had just executed a precise, well-aimed attack with everything he had mustered, and it had not even inflicted a single scratch. He had never felt this level of powerlessness before. Not even against Norgam or that giant shadow.

He tried to pull his Keyblade back to him, but was met with resistance. And then a sharp, searing pain, tore through his abdomen.

He let out a guttural scream as he felt something pierce through his very flesh. Blood gushed forth, staining the white snow a gruesome crimson, the tip of the Sovereign's scorpion-like tail was impaling him. It had struck with an almost casual indifference, impaling his flesh, and trapping him like an insect on a pin. The creature lifted his gaze up, ignoring the agonizing cries, as if he was a mere distraction.

His vision blurred as the pain throbbed throughout his body, his lungs gasping for air as he struggled against the agonizing pull, every breath a torture, and he could feel the heat of a powerful poison coursing through his veins as he felt his vital organs slowly beginning to fail him.

He saw it then, his vision slowly fading, the form of Yen-Sid flying toward the Sovereign from the sky above, and he could barely make out the way his face was twisted with pure, unadulterated rage. His body was descending with the speed of a meteor, both Wisdom and Enlightenment shining brightly, ready to strike at its target.

Yen-Sid's attack connected, a direct hit that landed on the Sovereign's head, the combined force of his power erupting into a swirling tornado of sharp winds and raw energy. The very air around them seemed to rip apart as a maelstrom of violent gusts erupted, carving the landscape with indiscriminate slices, both Wisdom and Enlightenment acting like blades that created a storm, a wall of wind that tore through everything.

Trees, broken roller coasters, and dilapidated game booths, all fell victim to this chaotic display of power, their forms torn apart and sliced into odd and surreal shapes. The snow itself was whipped into a frenzy, its form dancing and swirling erratically as it was carved and transformed into a hazy mist. And any Nightmare that had the misfortune of being in range, was cut into shreds as its body dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind nothing more than a faint trail of smoke. It was a display of uncontrolled destruction that left behind an almost surgical precision, transforming the surrounding park into a grotesque, and surreal tableau of strangely sliced objects.

The force of the storm was so intense, that it pushed the very fog away in all directions, creating a temporary void where, for a brief moment, it became possible to see far into the park, before the swirling snow returned with a vengeance.

Blizzard felt the gust of winds rushing past his ears, a violent force that threatened to tear him from his position. The pressure was intense, almost crushing as the power of Yen-Sid's attack, now gone awry, narrowly missed him, a fact that he only registered in a moment of clarity before his senses were once more consumed by the chaotic vortex around him. He was acutely aware of the way that Yen-Sid's control had faltered. It seemed like the young sorcerer had narrowly avoided targeting him, with what could only be described as an act of sheer force of will.

The shockwave propelled Yen-Sid backward, but not before the creature reeled back from the force of the attack, its large form momentarily staggering, barely containing the sudden and unexpected violence. It was sent flying through the sky, its form spinning out of control before it crashed somewhere within the foggy snow.

Yen-Sid let out a manic laugh, a high-pitched, almost hysterical sound as he pushed himself up, his chest heaving, his hands trembling as he stared at the damage he had managed to inflict upon his opponent. He had actually done it! He had finally managed to strike him, to injure him!

Yen-Sid: Hahahahah! Did you see that!? That's what happens when you don't acknowledge the might of the Allmighty, you ugly fool! Did you honestly think that all that show would mean anything?! Because I am...

He paused for a moment, his eyes looking down at Blizzard, who was still suspended in the air, his hands trembling, his eyes wide with a desperate need to do something.

Yen-Sid: And even that small, silly boy can't touch it! But I managed it! And it's proof that I AM the greatest! I AM!

A small glimmering light floated near Blizzard's face. It was Chirithy, its form almost transparent as it uttered with a frantic tone.

Chirithy: No, that was a lucky hit, you idiot! Do not mistake luck for skill, you arrogant, insane... He may be stronger than us, but that was a surprise attack! Direct hits alone, no matter the combination or the power behind it, will never be enough to bring him to his knees! Why do you insist on this pointless charade!? And why are you looking at me like that?! It wasn't my fault!

Chirithy's voice had a sense of urgency, but Yen-Sid was barely listening, his chest puffed up, his face red, his hands still trembling. He looked like a kid who had just won a meaningless game in the playground, still not ready to fully acknowledge that he was in a life-or-death situation. Unable to accept the possibility that luck, instead of some kind of skill, might have been the reason why he had finally managed to injure his enemy.

Yen-Sid: Oh, what did you even do to help us, anyway? Did you think that that dumb spech-

Before he could finish that sentence, the world seemed to tilt around him. He felt a sudden sharp pain, a violent, piercing sensation that was tearing through his chest. His gaze went downwards, and his eyes widened in absolute horror.

The Sovereign was behind him, its left arm had pierced through his torso, ripping through bone, tissue, and muscle with effortless power. The creature's hand, coated in crimson blood, emerged from Yen-Sid's chest, the heart, still beating weakly, still pumping out what little blood was left, was held tightly within its grip. It cast it aside with a dismissive gesture as if it was some discarded object, throwing it into the snow, where it lay, a discarded thing, exhibiting the brutality of what occurred

Yen-Sid's body trembled, his lungs desperately trying to draw in a breath that would never come, as he weakly called out to Blizzard. His body trembled as he slowly began to collapse toward the unforgiving ground, his hand clutched uselessly at the air, his breath rattling in his throat.

Yen-Sid: Blizzard... I...

His form hit the ground, the soft snow turning a grotesque shade of crimson, as his physical body began to break apart into black dust. His real essence, the heart, that was previously cast aside by the Sovereign, floated upwards for the second time, a pink heart of pulsing light, drawn to a presence that was not of this world.

Before it could reach its destination, The Sovereign moved its hand and clutched tightly at the center of that heart, stopping it before it could vanish.

Blizzard screamed, his face contorted by a mask of absolute rage and grief, his muscles tensing, his hands tightening around Frostbite as he took a step towards the Dreamscape Sovereign, ready to attack, all concern for his own well-being abandoned, his mind only focused on the monstrous figure that was holding Yen-Sid's heart as though it was nothing more than a useless trinket, ready to be destroyed with a whim.

Chirithy interposed itself, a desperate attempt to create a barrier before more bloodshed could occur. Its tiny form flared into a pulse of pure, bright light to prevent Blizzard from doing something that he would regret, before he could even think things through. The particle expanded rapidly, growing to a size far beyond its usual form, forming a semi-transparent barrier of soft, glowing light, cutting through the bleak landscape, it pulsed with a sense of urgency, directly blocking Blizzard's path, its essence an almost physical force that slammed into his chest, forcefully stopping his advance.
Chirithy: NO, Blizzard! Stop! You cannot, just don't! Don't do anything rash!

Chirithy's voice filled with a mix of horror and disbelief, its body trembled with unease as it looked towards the Dreamscape Sovereign, the full weight of the being's might finally settling within its mind. The very air around them seemed to crackle with an unknown energy, and as the sound of the raging snow and the wind finally started to recede, it felt as though the world itself was holding its breath.

It moved slowly, its senses heightened as it analyzed the present danger. It saw that, indeed, the King was waiting patiently, his form almost motionless. He did not appear to have any intention of attacking them, at least for now. Instead, he seemed to be waiting, his gaze fixed on Chirithy, almost as if he was waiting to receive a cue from it.

It had to be careful. It had to choose the next move wisely, even if it knew that every single second was pushing them deeper into the void. It felt as if it was standing on a knife's edge, one wrong step, and everything would be lost.

Chirithy's form flickered and fragmented, its small body breaking down into a stream of light particles before reforming, its form translucent and unstable, as its voice was barely a whisper, the full measure of fear and a growing sense of despair, creeping into its tone.

Chirithy: T... the King? Is that... is that really you?

Dreamscape Sovereign: Indeed, little spirit, it is I.

Chirithy: Why? Why this violence? Where is the protection you were sworn to provide? What has driven you to this madness?

Dreamscape Sovereign: I am protecting my realm. It must remain sinless, untainted. It must remain... perfect.

Blizzard's brow furrowed, a sense of unease creeping into his heart. He opened his mouth to try and speak, to make the Sovereign understand, his voice still laced with disbelief, and yet... also with a hint of familiarity.

Blizzard: But, he was... he was with us! We all came here... seeking a way to become stronger! We came here because we believed that this power could offer a chance at saving our universe from total annihilation. Shouldn't that be enough of a reason to make an exception? To at least listen before you judge?

Dreamscape Sovereign: I am unconcerned with those who lurk beyond my realm, I only see a threat in your presence. This place is my responsibility. I will keep my home safe and untouched. Your struggles are of no concern. They will not grant you the right to disrupt what I have created, it has never done so before, and it will not do so now.

Chirithy: But that's not... That's not who you are! Or... or are you even real? What has happened to you? You must have gone mad! Why are you doing this to him?

Dreamscape Sovereign: I have always been real, little spirit. It is amusing that you would question my reality, given that you have been absent for more than a century, and still you continue to believe that you are fit to dictate my actions. Or perhaps, this extended absence has finally made you too ignorant to understand?

Chirithy:...

Dreamscape Sovereign: Perhaps you are confused, little spirit? Which Yen-Sid are you talking about?

Blizzard's hand clenched into a tight fist, and he shook his head slowly, confused.

Blizzard: What... what are you talking about? What do you mean, 'which Yen-Sid?' What other Yen-Sid is there?!

Chirithy's form seemed to flicker, as if the very fabric of its essence was destabilizing under the weight of the revelation, its sapphire eyes looking confused at what had been said.

Chirithy: Wait, what? What did you mean by that, King? What... what other Yen-Sid are you talking about? What are you... hiding from me?!

The Dreamscape Sovereign moved its hand, presenting the heart as though it was a foul object.

Dreamscape Sovereign: ...this heart is Jareth, Jareth Sid. The brother of Jareth Vex. A serpent who rejected the path of virtue the very first time he touched a Keyblade! A coward who abandoned his mother, and hid behind. A stolen title and a fabricated legacy! This is what you would call a hero? Someone that should be trusted? He hid his name, his very essence from you, because he knew that what lied beneath was tainted. And yet, you call his fate unjust?

Blizzard stood silent for a long, agonizing moment, as all those small details, those subtle, yet telling mannerisms, slowly came back to him, those seemingly casual comments that Yen-Sid had uttered, his strange mannerisms, his sudden bursts of importance, his seemingly unreasonable fears. All of those were now making sense. His mind reeled as he processed the name, the truth, as a wave of grief and betrayal crashed down onto him.

Blizzard: Jareth... Sid? He... he is Vex's brother...

His voice was barely audible, a mix of horror and a terrible sense of betrayal. It felt as though another part of his memory, of his hope of finding peace was torn from him. That fragile connection, the feeling that he was no longer alone in this universe, had shattered into nothing more than a useless and distant fragment of a dream.

He had trusted Yen-Sid, and this lie, the knowledge that his own friend was related to the madman that killed Josiah and had destroyed a world. A small spark of hope that had been ignited for a brief moment was now extinguished by a cold, harsh reality, and he felt as though he was suffocating under the sheer weight of his own disappointment.

His fingers clenched tighter, struggling to suppress the surge of anger that was threatening to consume him. The irony was almost unbearable. The same blood that flowed through that psychopathic killer, now ran through the veins of someone who he considered to be a friend. All those bizarre stories, all that hidden past, all those comments about his greatness... they were all a lie. All his doubts, and all his suspicions about this strange man that he had put so much faith in were now resurfacing as a reminder of how foolish he had been.

And yet, a part of him still wanted to deny it, still wanted to see past the carefully crafted lies, and to find a glimmer of truth beneath the surface. He thought about the small smiles that the sorcerer had shared with him, all those little moments of shared laughter, those silent nights, where they had talked for hours about their fears and aspirations.

What if that were real? What if all of this madness, all those claims of power, were nothing more than a mask to hide his insecurities, a method to cope with the pain of all the lives he had lost? He had endured this pain for far longer than he had. Perhaps, those grand, self-proclaimed titles, that theatrical arrogance, were nothing more than his way of protecting a fragile mind from the loneliness of his self-imposed isolation.

Sid was, in the end, a broken man, an actor in a grand, universal scale, who just wanted to believe that Sid was someone special, that Sid could be more than his past, even if that past was forever intertwined with the brother of a monster. Maybe Sid had simply wanted to believe that, for a brief time, his fabricated world was real, that Sid could be someone more than just a tragic figure in an endless cycle of suffering.

That, maybe... just maybe... Sid could have become something more than a tragic figure. Sid's very being had been built on all those little dreams, all those tiny little hopes that Sid desperately tried to believe. And those dreams, in a way, kept Sid from falling deeper into the abyss, those grand illusions protecting Sid, those fake personas had been the only things that kept his fractured mind from completely falling into madness.

Sid had craved to be special, not just an ordinary human, and perhaps, even if it was all a lie, his wish could have been born in reality, and what if, just what if Sid could have been more than that? What if those fragile hopes, those silly games, and those moments of laughter, had meant something real for Sid's lonely heart?

If Sid had the chance to change, Sid could be the man he claimed to be, that the facade could become real. And what if the Real World was nothing more than a dream compared to the possibilities that this world had to offer? Blizzard wanted to believe that if Sid could change, then, perhaps, the Dream could also be changed, that perhaps, he could still save Yen-Sid from his terrible fate. And now, as he looked at his friend's corpse, that had seemed impossible.

It was not fair, because Sid deserved a chance, a real chance to be better than what he had been, all those silly stories that Sid had told and all those horrible mistakes, his very existence had simply meant that Sid could be more than what Sid had been.

What if all of this... all this horror, all this terror that Sid had endured was a test? A terrible test, designed to make him finally understand that even a man such as Jareth, could become something real? If the dream was true, Sid could be more than his flaws, then... then everything had to change.

He will never allow all of this... to have been for nothing! He still had to believe that all those games, all those silly lies, all those precious moments...

Blizzard had to believe that it had been all real!

He will make it real, he will find a way!

His thoughts were abruptly cut short, as the Dreamscape Sovereign finally spoke, its voice, devoid of any empathy, tinged with a hint of amusement, as though he found the entire situation to be rather pathetic, his chuckle as cold as the frozen world around them.

Dreamscape Sovereign: What if, what if? You chase phantoms of the past. It is the greatest of follies.

Chirithy: But that is... that is his virtue, you buffoon! Not a flaw! You wouldn't even understand! You cannot even begin to fathom his strength because you are so utterly consumed by rules and laws! You despise Keyblade Wielders and their very nature! You seek nothing more than their deaths, and you dare call yourself righteous? I don't even know if you are even the real King! You can't be him! You aren't! And what was before you right now! Was more human than YOU will ever be!

Blizzard's head snapped up, his eyes fixed on the Sovereign, a fire burning in his gaze as his body now trembled with a rage that he had never experienced before, even when Norgam took his arm, even when Vex had killed Josiah.

Blizzard: What if we simply rewrite them? All those rules and laws?

Dreamscape Sovereign: Your fleeting emotions do not alter the nature of reality. The path that you have chosen has always led to this moment, and you have squandered every chance that you had, long before we had meet in this place. Now, only judgment awaits. You have lost the will to fight. Face your fate, instead of wasting more time in this futile display of hope.

And yet... and yet something stirred within Blizzard. The cold indifference of the Sovereign, its absolute conviction in the so-called 'laws' of this place, made him feel a spark of defiance that he had not expected. What if, just what if, the Sovereign was wrong? And what if, there was always a way to find strength? Perhaps... Perhaps it was time to create a new definition of power. One that the Sovereign would never be able to comprehend.

Blizzard: We can win! We can still find a way!

And in that moment, his muscles coiled, his heart racing, and his body moving almost before he had even had the chance to fully think, his hands tightening around Frostbite, ready to leap forward for the last time.

Blizzard: Give him back! Give him back now!

Dreamscape Sovereign: Never.

The Dreamscape Sovereign c̴l̷e̸n̸c̵h̸ed its fist, his fingers turning into a ball of stone as his grip tightened around the heart. It shattered with a sickening squelch, millions of pieces of gore and light particles raining down, Sid's very existence completely ceasing to be, his memories, and essence wiped out from creation, just like that, all of it gone.

Blizzard screamed as his hand reached out to his fallen comrade, his fingers outstretched towards the space where Yen-Sid had been standing, where his form had now dissolved into nothing.

The world around them began to g̷l̸i̸t̶c̷h̴, as t̵͝h̷e̶ ̵͝v̵i̷b̶r̸a̸n̴t̸ ̴c̴o̷l̶o̶r̶s̵ ̷o̴f̸ ̸D̸r̵e̵a̴m̵ ̵L̶a̸n̶d̵ ̶b̷e̸g̴a̷n̶ ̴t̴o̸ ̷f̴a̴d̸e̴, the hues of the sky, a̸͝n̶d̵ ̴t̷h̸e̵ ̶w̷h̸i̸t̶e̵ ̵o̸f̷ ̶t̴h̷e̸ ̵s̴n̶o̵w̸, all shifting into a m̷u̶t̴e̶d̸, monochromatic gray. The very f̴a̶b̷r̷i̶c̵ ̴o̶f̸ ̵t̸i̶m̷e̵ ̶a̴n̸d̴ ̵s̵p̵a̸c̷e̸ ̶s̶e̴e̶m̸e̵d̷ ̸t̴o̸ ̵s̴h̷u̷d̶d̵e̸r̴, t̸e̴a̵r̶i̷n̵g̷ ̶i̴t̸s̷e̸l̸f̴ ̵a̵p̷a̶r̴t̷, e̷v̶e̵r̵y̸t̵h̴i̴n̵g̵ ̸l̴o̶s̸i̸n̷g̴ ̷i̷t̸s̶ ̴v̷i̸b̵r̷a̷n̸t̷ ̷c̵o̶l̷o̸u̶r̷s̵, and t̷u̴r̷n̶i̸n̸g̸ ̶t̴o̷ ̷s̶h̶a̵d̶e̸s̷ ̸o̸f̷ ̷g̶r̷e̷y̷, as t̵͝h̴e̶ ̵͝w̶o̴r̶l̴d̷ ̷a̸r̸o̸u̵n̷d̵ ̴t̶h̵e̴m̶ ̷s̸l̷o̸w̴l̷y̶ ̸f̵a̷d̵e̶d̷ ̸i̵n̸t̶o̴ ̷d̴a̷r̶k̶n̶e̴s̶s̶.

Time i̷t̶s̵e̵l̷f̴ ̷w̵a̸s̸ ̴n̸o̵w̷ ̴s̷u̶s̴p̸e̸n̵d̸e̴d̴, t̸h̴e̴ ̵s̷c̷e̴n̷e̸ ̸f̵r̶o̸z̶e̸n̷ ̸i̵n̵ ̸a̸ ̴d̷i̷s̵t̴o̶r̸t̸e̷d̴, b̴l̵u̴r̴r̴y̸ ̶s̵t̶a̸t̶e̴. The w̷i̴n̵d̶-̸w̸h̴i̷p̵p̸e̴d̷ s̷n̶o̸w̸ ̵h̵u̷n̴g̴ ̷s̶t̴i̸l̸l̵ ̸i̴n̵ ̷t̵h̷e̵ ̶a̴i̷r̸, as if caught mid-flight. The d̷e̸b̴r̶i̷s̴ ̸f̶r̸o̸m̵ ̸t̷h̵e̴ ̶c̴o̵l̸l̸a̶p̸s̶e̵d̸ ̴w̶a̷l̴l̴s̵ ̸a̸n̵d̴ ̶b̸r̸o̵k̶e̴n̴ c̷a̸r̵n̷i̶v̶a̴l̸ ̷g̶a̴m̸e̷s̸ ̷r̴e̸m̸a̴i̶n̸e̷d̷ ̶s̸u̸s̸p̵e̸n̷d̴e̸d̴, each jagged edge and s̴h̶a̸t̶t̶e̸r̵e̸d̷ ̷p̵i̷e̷c̶e̷ ̴f̸r̴o̶z̵e̷n̸ ̸i̷n̷ ̷p̸l̷a̶c̷e̴. The D̴r̷e̸a̴m̴s̸c̶a̸p̴e̴ ̴S̷o̶v̸e̶r̷e̷i̵g̵n̷ ̶s̶t̷o̷o̸d̷ ̵s̴t̴i̷l̴l̴, with its hand still c̵l̵e̸n̴c̸h̴e̴d̸ ̸i̸n̴t̸o̴ ̸a̸ ̸f̷i̷s̵t̵.

Ã̸̭n̸̝͂d̵̘͂ ̸̭͊ỉ̷̞n̸͚͂ ̵̘͝t̸̮̀h̶͉̓e̶̖̚ ̸͔̈́h̵͔̉ȅ̷ͅa̵̰͌r̴̪̀t̶̰͘ ̷̲́ȯ̷̩f̶̲̃ ̵̦̓t̶͝ͅh̵͔̏i̴̫̿s̸̪͐ ̷̜̑a̵̺͆l̶̖̇l̵̘͊,̶̪͌ ̸̭͘B̶̖̾l̷̬͋ị̷̕z̷̤̕ż̵͕a̶̤̾r̷͉̈d̴͉͠,̸͇̏ ̷͕̏ű̴̫n̵͈͒m̷̦̀o̶͕̽v̷̪̐ḭ̶̐n̶̞͌ǧ̷͜,̸͓̋ ̷̯͝h̵̘͗ḯ̵̠s̶͉̓ ̸̨̓h̴͎͑a̶̼͒n̸̰̽d̸̜͊ ̶͍́r̴̘͝ḛ̶͋å̴̟c̷̨̎h̷̤͗i̶̠͒n̵͚̈́ġ̵͓ ̷̮̾t̷͔͆o̸̟̊ẅ̴̪́á̵̠r̶͕̐d̵́͜ś̴͓ ̵̤̈́t̴͇͛h̸͈͋e̶̬͆ ̸͑͜v̷̰̎ó̷̰i̵͔͆d̴̜̾.̷͒͜ ̴͓̀C̷͖̈́h̵͍̽i̴̼͝r̴͖̚ĭ̸͚ẗ̸͇́ḣ̶͎y̷̘͝,̷̍͜ ̵̬̋f̷͔̐ŕ̶̮ó̶̬z̷̬̀e̶̮̕n̸̬̓ ̶̼̈́m̷̜̐i̷̖͒d̸̮̊-̵̳͊f̴̭̅l̵̻̓i̷̠̕g̵̜̐h̸̻̔t̵͖͘. All ̷̝̀ǒ̶͉f̶͉̽ ̶̗͑i̵̖̒t̶̟͂, still a̶̞͝n̶̩̈d̵̳̀ ̵̤͗s̴̪͝ì̸͕ĺ̴̝e̶̖̊n̶͎͘t̸̖͂.

T̶̛̤h̴̛̫i̴̦͝s̴̜̈́ ̸͖̀w̸̠͛a̸̬͝s̵̠̀ ̶̛̮ẗ̶̘́h̸̰̕e̵̱͗ ̴͉̅ê̴̦n̵̛̘d̵̻͘, ō̷͈r̵̹͗ ̵̝͝a̶̠̅t̴̝͋ ̷̫͒l̶̯̚e̴͖̓a̸̞͠s̷̱̀t̸͙́, that ̸̞́ȉ̸ͅs̶͉̾ ̷̮̃ẅ̴͚́ḣ̷̭a̶͇͆t̷̟̓ ̶̻͝i̸͈̋t̵̫̊ ̷̹̔f̷͙́e̸̝̔ĺ̸̻t̷̯̀ ̷̤͠l̸̹̈́i̵̤̋k̸͖̀ḙ̷͊.̷̠͂ ̷̦̎A̵̺̍l̷̯̍l̵͈͌ ̴͙̌t̴̠̂h̶̭̀e̴̜̕ ̴̑͜s̵̼̈́t̸̪̽r̴͕̎u̵̘̽g̸͈̓g̴̼̍ḻ̵͗ē̶̪,̷̫͆ ̷̬̅t̶̜̀h̸̤́e̷̝͝ ̷̰͠f̷͖̋l̶̗̈́e̷͝ͅe̵̤͑t̵͚͑i̶̫̋n̴͖̚g̸̩̈́ ̶̅͜m̸̻̎o̴̖͠m̵̞̕e̷̻͂n̸̜̏t̵̯̊s̴̻͌ ̴̼̾ö̴̤́f̴̬̒ ̶̭̊ȟ̷͈o̵͕͌p̸̞͑e̷̼̓, ẗ̴́ͅh̸̩͠e̴͖̓ ̷̬̆d̴͙͌ḛ̵̽s̶̼̕p̷̛̦è̷͈r̵̰̈a̴̮͆t̴̻̕e̶̪͛ ̷̠̀p̴̙̅l̶̼͊ȇ̴̜a̷̮͝s̴̘̈ ̴̹̂f̴̼̈́ó̶̪ŕ̷̺ ̷̝̉ú̸̩n̷̺͆d̸̦͛e̵͔̍r̸̬͆s̶͍̓t̸̩̔ȃ̶͔n̴̖̒d̷̮͂i̸̙̅n̸̤͊g̶̤̕, the a̶̺̋b̶̂ͅs̵͇̕u̴͓̅r̸̫̀ḏ̷̉ ̷̟̅c̵̗̓h̵͔̽a̸̭̐r̴̩̊a̴̹̅d̶̰͑ē̴̼ ̵̻͝ọ̴̔f̷̖̒ ̵̙̽a̸̰͛ ̶̫̒b̵͕͝a̶͓͛t̸̳̓t̵̰͘l̸̦͒ê̷͕,̶̪͝ ̶͈͐t̷͇͐h̸͇͆ẹ̶̈́y̸̻͗ ̵̣̒h̴͙͒a̸̠͗d̵̞̍ ̴̹̏ä̵̟́l̷̝͗l̷̠̅ ̷̦̃c̸͍͊ǔ̷̼l̷̰͒ḿ̷̗i̷͇̔n̷̗̐a̸̯̓ť̷̰e̶͉̋d̵̫͘ ̷̬͑ì̴͔ǹ̶͈ ̷̳̓ť̴̩h̵̹̀ȋ̶͔s̶̮͌ ̶̝͗a̶̼͠n̶̪͛t̸̯̒i̸̜͆-̵̲̽c̵̀ͅl̷͓̔i̸̱͛m̸̺̒a̶̯̕t̶̯̎ì̶̱c̷̹̕ ̸̘͘s̴̻̍i̴͕̒l̸̘͂e̷̘̕n̸̛͎c̸͓͛ě̸̬.̷̘̃

T̴̲̀h̷͙̀e̷̮͘ŕ̵͖e̸͎͝ ̴͙͠w̴̻̎a̸̩̾ṣ̸́ ̴̲̔ǒ̸͚n̶͓͌l̴͔̊y̶͔̕ ̷̖̔t̴͔̂h̴̹̋i̸̧̽s̵͇͌.̷͍̈ Å̸̦n̷̰̓ ̵͉͠a̶͇͌b̸͔́r̷͚̿u̷͔̒p̵̫̍t̴̻́ ̵̻̂a̷̭̅n̷͇̏d̸̫̀ ̴͛͜ś̸̙ḙ̴̋ǹ̴̩ś̷̼e̸̻̒l̸̻͐e̷̯͑s̶͍̾s̶̰̕ ̸̬̕e̷͓͋n̴̗͐d̴̾͜ ̴̛̩t̵̖̍o̸̞͗ ̶̖͒ȃ̶̱ ̷̣͘l̷̰͝i̸̧̋f̶̟̀e̴̯͐ ̴̹̓t̷̤̀h̷̩́a̴̱̓t̴̩̿ ̴͇̌h̷̭͂a̸̬̅d̴͍̓ ̸̰̚b̵̩̊e̶̻̍ē̵̳n̴͜͝ ̶̼̈m̸̙͝a̶͉͌r̷̞̚r̵͖͐e̵̙̅d̸̫̋ ̴̦̇b̴̕͜y̶͔̌ ̵̞̆a̶͔͒n̵̲̍ ̶̫͑e̵͕͌g̸͓͝ô̴̙m̷̘͝a̷̛͍n̷̩͠i̷͙̎a̷̯̓c̷͖̆ ̴̼̅d̸̩̚e̴̤̎l̵̰̾û̴͔s̸̩̈́i̴̠͝o̸̰͊n̷̬̈́s̵͔͘, and a f̷o̵o̷l̶i̷s̸h̸, u̵n̵w̴a̸v̴e̸r̶i̸n̵g̸ b̷e̷l̷i̶e̸f̶ i̶n̶ ̶a̵ ̶s̷t̵o̷l̴e̶n̸ p̷o̷w̴e̴r̵. A l̶i̶f̷e̸,̶ ̸e̶x̶t̵i̸n̷g̴u̶i̸s̸h̴e̸d̷,̶ l̵i̸k̷e̵ ̷a̸ ̶c̵a̴n̶d̶l̷e̴ ̶i̶n̵ ̴a̶ ̵s̸t̶o̷r̷m̵. There w̶e̴r̷e̴ ̵n̷o̶ ̷w̴o̸r̶d̵s̷.̶ N̸o̶ ̴d̸r̷a̴m̶a̸t̸i̶c̸ ̴f̶i̶n̷a̵l̶ ̵s̷t̶a̸n̶d̶.̸ N̸o̸ ̷c̷a̶t̸h̸a̸r̸s̵i̷s̴,̸ o̵n̵l̷y̷ ̸a̷n̶ ̴a̶n̸t̶i̷c̶l̸i̷m̴a̸t̷i̷c̶ ̶s̴t̶i̵l̶l̶n̷e̷s̷s̴. J̶u̸s̶t̶ ̸a̸n̸o̵t̷h̶e̸r̷ ̷l̵i̸f̶e̷ ̷s̵n̸u̵f̴f̷e̴d̴ ̴o̷u̵t̶ ̵i̷n̵ ̶t̸h̷e̶ ̸v̶a̸s̶t̶,̵ ̵i̴n̴d̶i̶f̷f̷e̴r̵e̴n̶t̴ ̴e̸x̷p̴a̸n̸s̴e̴ ̷o̴f̵ ̵e̴x̷i̵s̴t̶e̵n̵c̷e̸.̸

P̴̘̓A̸̛̤Ṵ̷͆S̶̳̀É̸͉ ̷̖͋M̷͙̕Ö̷̪́D̶̞͌É̷̪ ̸͔̓À̴̭C̴͍̑T̶̝̐I̵̳͠V̵̦͒A̵̛̦T̷̺̈́E̴̲̅D̸̠̕.

C̶͉̓A̵̟͒C̵̝̊H̶̤̕E̸͇͠ ̸̺͊U̴͉̿T̵̲͘Ī̸ͅL̸̖͗Í̴̘Z̷̘̈́Ä̷͈́T̵͉̐I̵̬̓Ö̵͇́N̶̜͐:̸̱̚ ̷̟̚1̴̞̅3̶̼̒9̴̺̒.̸̰͠4̷͉͘M̷̛͚B̶̦̽ ̸̬̈́Ó̷̹F̶̱̌ ̷̤͌2̴̲͒0̴̟̐0̶͓̑M̴̹̕B̴̰́.

L̶͎̽O̶̳̐A̵̖̚D̷̫̉Ȉ̴̘N̸̮̚G̸̤͌ ̶̹̐T̵̤̔I̷̝̾M̷̼̃E̴̛̠ ̶̋D̷͔̓À̵̩Ť̸̘A̵͍̔:̸͚͝ ̷̹̈4̵͔͝6̷̦͐7̸͙͑.̴̘̈́8̴̯͊G̸͖̿B̵̩͌ ̷̦̈́Ö̴̼́F̷͖̌ ̷͈̓9̸̫͊0̶̬͊0̷͙͗Ǵ̶̬B̶̻̆

A̷̫̿Ľ̴̖L̸̖̓O̴͍̓C̴̲̐Ă̷̗Ṱ̷̀Ì̵͍N̴̳͝G̴̮̓ ̶̺̋S̷̖̚Ỳ̶͍S̵̩̓T̷̲͑Ë̸̘́M̸̬͗ ̷̞́R̴̫̈́E̸̪̓S̶̝̉Õ̷̤U̵̮̕R̸͓̈́C̶̻̚E̶̬͆S̶̜͝:̶̦̈́ ̷̘̕1̶̖̋1̵̲͊.̶͇̅3̷̺̀T̴͚͠B̸̬͛ ̷͔̐O̴͉̚F̴̗̑ ̷̩̈1̴̘̐0̸̹̐0̸̤̽T̵̮͘Ḇ̷͌.

T̴̫̿R̴͈̉A̸̗̾Ñ̵̰S̴̝̾F̴͍̐E̸͓͂R̵̘̓I̵̻̊N̴̟̓G̷̬̾ ̶͔͋P̵̖͒A̵̗̔Ũ̵̮S̵͚͌Ĕ̴̩ ̵̤̇S̴͉̿Ť̴̝A̵̰̔T̷̝̒E̴̖͝:̸͔͝ ̶̬̽1̷̞̐8̵͙̎7̸̭͘T̵͚̃B̸̬̈́ ̴̞͊O̸͕̓F̷̞͝ ̴͈́3̵̙̅0̶̩́0̸̩̐T̵̞͠B̷̬͊

C̷̰̿A̸͈̚L̷̼͌C̴̗͑U̷͍̔Ĺ̵͕A̷͚̕T̷̪̄Ì̷͉N̴̞͗G̷͍̕ ̶̜̎P̴̮̂A̷̟̓U̴̝̔S̵̮̕Ḛ̸͘ ̵̳͋P̸̼͆O̶̭̓I̸̞͆N̴͓̕T̶̬̾ ̷̘̆D̷̼͌A̴̹͒Ṱ̴̓A̶̛͈:̶̗̎ 2̴͚̀9̸͔͑9̵̬̉.̴̬̇9̴̟̅9̴̻͐9̷̟͌T̶͖̈́B̵̻̒ ̶̥͊Ǒ̵̞F̴̼͊ 3̴͈̋0̴̘̂0̴̙͆T̵͖̑B̶̰̑

C̷̅ͅO̸̠͝N̶̬̈́S̵͖̑O̴̼̐L̴̜͠Ĕ̷̻ ̸̲͗Ḽ̴̐O̵̫͝G̶̛̝ ̶̱͝E̶̦̾Ǵ̵̶̷̶̴̛̣͕̙̲̝̽͛̍͒̀ ̴̶̷̶̴̟͇̟̳̱̱̮̋͒͒̔͌̍̊͛͝Ẽ̴̶̸̴̙̠̣̅̾̔̈́̚R̶̴̸̶̡͈͍̺̟̼͐̉͐͌̈́̈́͜R̶̵̶̸̵̲̳̼̜̮͆̑̌̿̉̚͜

Ṕ̷̞A̶̮͑U̸͔̒S̴͇̆Ė̴͔ ̴̻̃M̴̝͝Ò̶̩D̶͍͌E̶̮͊ ̸̱̈O̶̩̎Ư̶͖T̴̩́ ̸̞͊O̶͍͛F̷͔̅ ̶͙͝S̵̖͐Y̶̳͝N̴͇̏C̵̖͌!̸̭̾!̷̝̕

S̸͔͗Y̷̝͒S̴̼̏T̸͚̅Ė̶̺M̴̘͝ ̶͍̈́C̸͈̈́O̴̵̴̸̸̾͜Ṙ̸̸̸̶̵͚R̶̴̶̶̷̭̓U̸̵̵̶̷̝͐P̸̵̸̶̷͔̾T̸̶̸̵̴̲̽Ȯ̴̗N̸͔̕ ̶̼̋D̴̄͜E̸͓̓Ṱ̴͋Ë̶͚́C̸̪̔T̵͓̓Ë̶̹́D̸͓͘!

Ṯ̷͊Ḛ̶̀M̶̭͆P̶̰̄É̶̬R̶̷̷̴̶̭͊A̶̵̴̷̷̜̎T̴̷̵̵̷̻̄U̵̷̶̵̷͓͝R̴̵̵̶̸̝̚Ẻ̷̸̶̷̴̺ ̴̷̵̷̴͕̏C̴̸̸̴̵̹͑R̴̷̴̴̴̬̔I̶̸̶̷̴̲̔T̶̸̸̵̶̻̉I̷̷̶̸̴̯̾C̸̷̷̷̸̍͜A̶̵̶̸̵̕͜L̷̶̶̷̶̳̅!̴

S̴̸̸̸̶̺͔̺̭̜̱̊̿̑̿͊̓Ý̴̴̴̵̷̧̡̛͕͎͔̖̜̉̋̒̚S̴̷̸̵̵͔̹̜̙͈̰͉̾̇̀̾̅̍͂͌̚T̸̷̴̴̶̘̻̪̹̫̲̲̹̜̀͑̂̕͝͝Ę̵̸̸̴̶̡̭̙͚̦̙̒̿̿͂̔̿́M̶̵̸̸̵̯̻͎̺̭͊̑͊͘̕ͅͅ ̶̵̶̷̷̨̨̲̜̭̮͍̄͒̍̈́̂̾̍Ņ̸̸̵̸̸̳̦̥̟͙̰̔̃́̐̈̐̚͜͠E̴̴̵̷̷̬̰̟̭̮̿̈̔̐̄̉̾ͅȂ̵̶̸̸̴̭̙͍͍̰̲̱̤̿̆̍̀̽͘Ŗ̵̷̶̴̷͈̰̻̼͗̿͛́̓̈́̊ͅ ̶̸̶̴̴̧̨̧͚̤̫͓̆͗̀̾̀͌̄̕Ợ̷̸̵̸̶̢̘̻͉̏͋̿̂̋͝ͅV̵̷̶̴̷̨̘̝̼̮̒͆̊͛̇̿̂̚E̴̶̷̴̶̡̜̝͙̤̍͊́̀̕͝Ȑ̸̸̶̶̸̨̨̼͈̝͉̦̖̆͑̽̕͜H̴̶̵̷̴̩̰͓̘̺̼́̃͋͛̈́͋͋͜E̵̷̸̴̸̙̘̭̮͖̳̋̿̿̓͐̚̕͠A̸̷̷̵̵͉̝͉̼̻̮̗͑̋́̌̋̇T̸̸̵̸̸̻̥̥̳͍̦̤̱͛͐́͛̎̀I̴̴̶̸̷̹̤̙͉͚̟̒͌͛̽̎̾̕ͅN̵̶̴̵̵̨̹͍̞̳̝͍̈́̊̍͑̈́͠͠G̴̷̴̸̵̫͈̻̘̫̲̠̬̈́̉͒͑̎̊̕͝!̶̷̵̶̸̪̘̫͉̤́͂͊̇̉̇̚!̶̷̷̸̵̛̯͇̱͉̖̘͈̣͋̀̔̃̋͝!̸̸̷̸̸̧̼̠͈̠̤̥̬̉͊́͛̇̀͐̀̚!̴̸̵̵̸̡̰͚͇̫̩͖͌̈́̉̀́͝

S̴̷̴̵̸̡̧̧̨̡̛̠͚̟̠͖̺͙̱̱͎̞͓͍̠̗̞̼̝̯̙̲̥̭̙̹̰̣̹̬͚̜͕̣̭͓̹͔͕̭̗̙͙̤̟͓͙̬̆̓́̅͗̈͆̋͗̌̏̊̓̃̿̐̑̉̄͋͂͌͒̈́͐͂̃̒̉̂̏̕͘̚̕̚̕͜͠͝Ÿ̷̴̶̶̷̢̧̛̛͇̫͕̙̝͔̖̠̙̗̭͉̰̟́̔͊̿̈́́͌̄́̒̓̄̾͐͑́͋̒͗̈́͑̋́̇̑͆̅͊̾̓͋̑͆͗̀͂̏̉͋̉̂̽̅̚̚̕̚̕̚̕̕͝͠͝Ş̷̷̷̵̴̢̢̨̢̧̡̛̠͔͉̥̖̟̺̼̻̥͉̲͔̰͍͕̟͉͙̮̪͍̣͔̭̞͍͖͇̮̯͇͈͓̱̪̝̩̭͕̯̗̂̀̾̆̾́͊̇̑̂̌́̂̍͛̄̌͛́͌̾̊̇̋̊̃͑́́͒̈̔̅̐̈͘̕͘͝ͅŢ̶̷̵̵̵̨͈̥̘̗̙͚̰͓̰̹̼̼͚̝̣̲̳̩͖͖͇͕̥̫͇͉̬̽̌́̈͒̀̈́̀̀̋̈́̊͋̾̂͌̄̀̒͆̏́͒̓̄͒̅̈́͂́̕͝͝Ę̷̸̵̵̴̢̧̨̧̡̨̛̪̮̭̪͇̪̜͙̬̠͖̝̟̻̟̙͚̥̞̣̰̺̺̜̦̇̏̐̀̓̍͂̒̃͒͛̃͂̿͛͂̓̀̾͗̿̌̊̍̆̅͂̅́̇̍͋͗̽̂̕̚͠M̸̵̵̸̴̢̡̧̧̨̨̛̺̻̯̘̩̰̭̝̟̫̬͇͕̞͖̯̦͓̤̳͈͍͇͍̞̥͔̯͇̺̤̺̬̭̭̝̺̺̳̩͎̊̃͆́̂͊̃͒̐̐̅̇̇͆̌̋͂̽̀͋͆̀̏̇͋̈́͒͊̚͜͠͝ͅ ̵̵̴̶̷̡̨̡̨̛̰͖̼̙̤̥̘̺̬̗̻͖̟͖̩̱͕̰̜̭͚̜͍͔͕̖̺͈͖͎̭͖̹̼̙͈̠̟̭̗̣̗̫͚̝̮͒̃̌̃̾̑͒̈́̏̐̓̅͊̊̀̌̓̈́̑̀̄̊͜͝͝ͅṈ̴̸̸̶̵̨̨̡̢̛̩͕͕̣̦͈͈̮̠̫͎͈̤̙̲͈̩̖͚̯̯͇̬̗̫̼̠̼̟̥̥̹̌̀͋̍̃̏̃͐̍͒̇̊̔͗̓̐̂̈́͊̑̈́͋̕͘͜ͅĘ̶̴̷̸̵̢̡̧̢̢̡̡͎̩̜͙͕̦̻̯̗̥͚̼̹͉̪̱̣̖̬̝̼͔̠̜͙̙͉͈̭̪̭̖̯̠͖̺̳̭̺͚̞̣̗͙̒̐̅̅̀̋̎̌̂̈́̅̓͒̐̈̔̈́̓̾̉͘͘̕͜͜͠A̵̶̸̶̶̢̢̙̞̠̦̠̜̣̗͈̗̠͉̪̰̬̞̱̮͖͖̲̳̗̼̪̻̗̟̳̤̾̋̏͗͐̄̊̋̆͊̀̀̉̀̍̀͊͑̾͂̈́̃̏̾͋͛̃̈́͘̚̕̚̚͜͠ͅR̴̷̷̴̷̨̢̡̛̠̖͈̗͉̗͓̳̱̞̠͚̰̞̭̺̟̺̣̖̥̳̤͍̻͔̹̦̘̺̼̯̟̫̬̈̒͗́̿̿́̈́͌͐͛̓͌̎̓̔̀̽͐̐̓̓̋͑̈́̿͋́͗̌̂͆̔͋̉̀̋͛̿͛͛͂͑̇̚̚͝͝͝ ̷̸̶̴̷̢̧̛̛̭̦͎̙̟̝̙̭͇̞͖̲̼̼̪̥̤͉͖͎̊̋̅͑̂̈́́̈́̌͑̈́͋͆͆͌̌̂̾͐̾̄̓̾̉͊̅̾̐̂͐̽̎̈́͌̍̔̊͋̋͒̐̆͗͂͗͛͑̋͆͒̄͗̀̚͘͘͘̕͠͝͝͠͠͠͠ͅͅƠ̷̸̵̷̸̢̡̼͖̩̭̞͍̠͍̟̲̠͚̠̝̩͔̲̳̜̫̘̥̰̩̤̝̪̤̼̮̹̲̪͉̺͖̹͎̺̻̫̖̙͔͇̗̤͉̤̻̞̝̯̺̔͛́͊͆͊͊́͆̾͑̉̌̐̾̇̔̈́̾͑͆͋̓͋̐̐͋̊̒̂̄̋̏̐͛̈͗̔͆͂̃̚̚̕̕̕͜͜͝͠ͅͅͅͅV̷̷̸̷̶̨̛̛̺͈̩̫̟̤̳̗̘̩̪̯͉̞̼̯̹̙̜̩̪͖͎̗̪͋͗̌̄͋̆̐́̊̆̋̅͊̄̒͐͂͛̉̄̽̍̋̈́̓͐̎͋̎̈́̋́͘̕͜͜͠ͅȨ̵̶̶̸̵̨̛̛̣̝̻͕̮̦̪͍̙̼͉̳͙̺͙͔̬͚̘̹̘̣̙̺̬̂̀̃̍̌̆̀̅̐̀̽́́̀̍̉̇̃̊̈́́̊̑̈́̇͑̓́̕̚͝R̷̸̵̴̴̡̼̭͍͕̞̭͇̼̗̯͚̠͍̮̤͖̪͉̞̜͍̱̫̻̮̝̹̜̲̈́̆̎͒̒̽̌̓̀̆̔̓̑͒̅̍̊̉̄́̉̈́̄͗̈́̽́̕͝͝͠H̸̶̵̶̷̢̧̛̳̖̯͎̲̣̮̝̙͔̣̘̤̠̰̝̪̤̝̤̜͖͔͍͈̽̄̓͆̈̋̈́͛̌̋͌̊͋̂̒̀͂̎̆̏̕͜ͅͅĘ̴̷̶̸̸̨̬̦̘͚̗̭̺̹͇̦̰͚͖̩̻͍͍̻̤̭̝͕̥̮͚͍̞̥̟̩͍͔͔͖̺̗͐͋͐̓̿̀̀̊͐̿͋͗̾̍̄̓͆̅̑̎̆̋̕̚̕͠͝À̴̷̸̶̶̡̧̨̢̡̻̦̺͖̺͓̺̞̟̻̮̝̭͔̺̲̼͈̤̤͍͙̪̻̥͕̥̟̮̥̱͖͎͓͔̖͈̙̻̀̇͂̋́͌̒̈́͆̅̌͒̓̏́͛̊͗́́̀́͆̇͂͌̄̈́̈́̍́̔́́͛̈́̇̄̊̓̕̕̕͘͘̕͝͝͝͝Ţ̶̸̸̴̴̡̢̨͖̙̞̲͚̝̦͚̭̫̰̤͚͓͖̥͉̟̣͔̣̪͚͚͇͎̦̩̗̼̳̻͂̔̉̀̈́̆̑͊̅͐̿̃͒̄̑̒̆̓̽͌͛͑̈̈́̑͗̉̈́̒͋͐͑̽̾̇̀͆̓̓̐̀͂̑̄̕͘͘̚̕͜͜͝͠͝I̷̴̵̶̸̡̢̨̡̛̮͎̠͖̭̺̘̗̱͎̠͖̪̲͎͎̞͖̹̰̻̩̣̙̣͉͍̮̗͉̫̗̬̬̘̙͕͚̬͍̻͔̦͍̠̲̠͔̿̈́̑͛͒́̂̄̈́͂̓̑̎̈̃̈́̈́̏̄͊͌̔͊̑̍̒͒͂̀̈̂̾̃̓͂̏͊͊̅͘̚͘͜͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅN̵̶̴̴̷̨̢̙͉͖̲̼̳͖̪̭͉̬͈͖̞̳̝̻̲̹͋̇́̔͌̇̽͋͆̏̒̈́̎́͛̐͒͛͒͑̓̊͑̂̑͋̋̿̊͑͊̑̇́̒͂̌͛͊̎͗͑̊̂͘̚͘͜͜͜͜͠͝͠Ḡ̵̷̵̶̵̛̛̗͓̭̱̻̝̝͈̥̦̣̣͍̘͕̙͓̰̲̺͔̒̎̈́̒́̈̂̋͆̇͌̃̉̾͒̋̿͛̆̎̂̈́̀̐̾̅͑́͗͂̐̈̈͆͋̐̕̚̚͝!̴̷̵̸̸̡̧̢̢̛͔̤͈̩̗͚̙̬͇̙̺̖̗͖͍̯̩̯͖͈̗͉̯̜̮̖̘͑̔̄͛͒͐͒͊̂͛̉͊̍͑͒͂̅̒͂̏̉̇́̃̈́̇̄̀͘͠͠͝͝͠!̸̷̴̸̴̧̡̧̢̢̛̣̠̳̮̣̻̗̰͉̗̳̤̠̮̺͓͎̭͚͔̙̩͓͚͈̪̫͈͍̺̮͓̭͕͚͖̐̉̽̉̿̒̋́̈́̎͋̑̆͊̽̔̈́͂̈́̆̔̀̈́́̔̂͌̌̇̊͑̌̽͊̉͆̔͆̚͘̚̕͜͝͝͝ͅͅ!̴̸̸̴̶̡̢̧̛͓̩͈͖͖̳͍̼̥͙͇̱̤̼̖͍̹̞̭͕̰̭̳͚̤̻͖̟̞̤̯̱̰͇͙̳̖̼̑̀̍̐̃́͆́͂͛̊̏̂͐͂̾̕̕͘͜͝ͅͅͅ!̸̸̸̵̷̢̛͉̠͕̱̳̫̘̙̝̞͔̭̯̬̼͓̼̘̩̩͙̺͙͖̜͇̻̮͇̺͇͚͓̀̿̽̐̈́̾́̽̑̈́͌̈͑̈̒͆̈́̂͒͒̈́̈́̑͗̌̀͑́͆̎̒̈́̑̑̚̚͘̕͜͜͠͝͝͝ͅͅͅ