Finding Granite Back was easy thanks to Ruffus’ description of the place. The warren was located in and under the only black mountain in the area. The entrance was just a hole in the base of said mountain, with two big and fully armed diamond dogs guarding it. It was already late into the night, so I flew down to a small forest nearby and slept as an ent. The sunrise starting my photosynthesis woke me up, so I changed forms to diamond dog, put the other dog’s clothes on and I rolled in the dirt to cover myself in dust, as a clean diamond dog would be suspicious. I made up yet another alibi and walked towards the entrance.

“Halt!” ordered one of the guards when I was a few meters away, “name and business!”

“Balto, I want to join Granite Back.” Now that’s a name I don’t mind having.

“Where you from? Why join us?”

“From Copper Depth. I scout, I bring pony slave to warren, when I back, other scouts dead. If return, Alpha blame me and I dead. Granite Back better than Copper Depth, anyways.”

“Good, you follow me,” said the guard that had remained silent as he lit a torch.

He led me through a labyrinth of narrow and dark tunnels that, according to Ruffus, served to slow down attackers and to avoid slaves escaping. Finding the exit was easy for a diamond dog, as they were very sensitive to the air freshness and movement, so they always knew which tunnel led to the exit. Even so, I memorized the path we took just in case, as the shortest way out could be the one filled with traps. We followed the tunnel to a big cave, where two more diamond dogs guarded a huge black iron door, which was kind of stupid as it was bigger than the other entrance.

“This be Balto. He want to join we.”

“Follow me,” said the guard on the right, “you meet Alpha now.”

I gulped, as I had yet to see one of the powerful Alphas, which almost always belonged to a more brutal subspecies of diamond dogs. The guard used a dog whistle that he wore on a necklace and the door opened. Trying to describe how ultrasounds... sound is like trying to describe how green looks like to a blind person, so I won’t even try to do so... I said something like that already, didn’t I?

Behind the gate was the real warren. The diamond dogs lived in small houses carved in the walls of a huge circular cave the size of a football pitch with a domed ceiling which was thirty meters high in the centre of the cave. It must have been carved by them, as it was too regular and it even had holes the size of one of my now huge thumbs all the way to the surface for ventilation. How did they even drill those? They made the most of the space they had carved, filling half of it with stone buildings and a quarter with some sort of tents, the rest being an open space where some cubs were playing a mix of tag and violent wrestling. The cave was illuminated by many huge gems that somehow worked as lamps located on the ceiling.

To reach the Alpha’s house we had to cross the entire cave in a straight line. I took a quick glimpse at the tents and saw a few ponies in them. We crossed the zone with buildings, which were occupied and used by more slaves. My escort told me with his awful oral skills that most buildings were maintained and managed by the slaves themselves when they weren’t working in the mines, as no diamond dog was willing to move a finger for them. The diamond dogs were the dictatorial military force of the warren, while the slaves were the workforce that assured that everything worked smoothly. The diamond dogs lived in the perimeter of the town so they could easily surround the slaves if they revolted and subdue them. It reminded me of the Roman Empire, it was awesome in its cruelty and efficiency. It’s beautiful. We arrived at the Alpha’s house, the only indicative of his rank was the single guard at his door.

“New recruit, meet Alpha now,” said my escort.

The other guard barked loudly and opened the door for me two minutes later. He closed the door behind me when I got in, but I didn’t notice it. I was too focused on the Alpha. He is HUGE! The Alpha towered over every other diamond dog I had seen, he was as big as my draconequus form, and he had a more feral and dangerous look, like a wolf among dogs. He wore a chainmail and a black leather jacket with steel spikes, a two handed axe resting on his lap. His fur was black on the back and white on the front, with his face being black and his lower jaw white. His yellow eyes were inspecting me with intelligence while he sat on a primitive throne. A huge diamond dog leader with chainmail and biker leather jacket? He’s SO badass!

We were on a small rectangular room illuminated by more shining gems, the throne on the center being the only piece of furniture in it. There was a door behind the Alpha, which led to the rest of his house. Ruffus had told me that a diamond dog only had to be submissive to the Alpha of his pack and show confidence and determination to the other Alphas to avoid being called a coward, so I forced myself to match his stare. That wasn’t an easy task, as his stare was so intense it would probably carve a hole in my body given enough time.

“What is your name, dog?” he asked with his guttural voice.

“Balto.” Still loving this name.

“I am Drogur the Arcane, Alpha of Granite Back, but you already know that, right? Well, Balto, what brings you to my warren?” he said in perfect English/Equestrian/whatever. Ruffus had said that most Alphas could speak like that if needed, but the ones who valued physical power over knowledge spoke like common diamond dogs. The Arcane, is he magic or something?

I had to make a decision. If I acted like a normal diamond dog he probably would give me a low rank and duty, like scouting or watching over the slaves. The second one was what I wanted, but I didn’t know if it would happen. If I showed him my superior intelligence he might give me a better position in the warren’s hierarchy, which would allow me to do more shenanigans. I hate speaking like an idiot, so intelligence it is.

“My Alpha hates me. I have always been smarter than him, so he sent me off to be a scout. Last night, I killed the other two scouts, burned them so everyone would think it was a dragon, and came here,” he raised his eyebrows in surprise for a second, then he started laughing.

“You are really something, Balto!” he exclaimed, “I already like you. Clever like an Alpha, but not strong enough to be one. Of course, you haven’t earned our trust yet, so you will be the assistant of the slaves’ supervisor. He’s an old dog about to retire, so you will learn everything he can teach you and become his successor if you are worthy of that task. How do you like that?”

“I will do as you command, my Alpha,” I said, this time looking down to show total obedience.

“It’s settled, then. You are now a member of Granite Back. Your official welcome ceremony will be in two days, with the next full moon,” he rose up and walked to me. Then he smelled me to remember my scent, and I did the same, “one last question, did you lie to my guards about your origins?”

“Of course I did,” I answered, making him laugh again. Nice fangs, he could tear my head off with a bite.

“Bitch!” he shouted, “we have a new dog! He needs accommodation!” Man, Drogur is so cool, I already love him in a non-homoerotical way.

The Alpha’s wife came through the door behind him and joined us. She was as big as me, her fur was brown and her eyes green. She was the first female diamond dog I had ever seen, and I suffered conflicting emotions. My diamond dog body and brain told me that she was sexy, but I had never been into furries as a human, so I was very confused. Don’t know if want...

“I Gavriila, you?” she asked with a Russian accent as we smelled each other.

“Balto,” Ruffus had told me that diamond dogs didn’t believe in monogamy, so they all fucked with each other. The only exception was the Alpha’s partner, who was off limits. Their romanticism was almost non-existent. The fact that I was thinking about THAT as I introduced myself to the Alpha’s wife speaks wonders about me, doesn’t it? Bad Havoc, stop thinking about dirty things and focus!

Gavriila led me to a house halfway between the entrance and the Alpha’s.

“This house yours now,” she gave me a big iron key, “only you and Alpha have house key. Key expensive, you eat or lose it, you pay new one. No noises during sleeptime, slaves NEVER inside house. If light gems stop shining, take them to horn pony, no take horn pony to house. No stinking house, you clean house, or have someone clean house, but house no smell. That are house rules.”

“No more rules?” I asked.

“Slaves are for work, not for sex,” she added, “other rules same than all warrens,” once again, I knew them because Ruffus had listed them for me.

“Anything else?” She looked from side to side, checking that no one was within hearing range (which is a lot bigger than humans’, these dogs have a very keen sense of hearing) before replying to my question.

“Drogur isn’t like Copper Depth’s Alpha,” she whispered, “He is the smartest diamond dog this warren has seen in many generations, so don’t even think about pulling something stupid off like you did in your previous den. We will know and you will suffer. Other than that, he may invite you to our house to chat. We enjoy having intelligent conversation partners from time to time. Oh, and you should speak like the rest of the pack if you don’t want to bring too much attention upon yourself.”

So the pretty girl has a good brain, too. No wonder Drogur chose her above all others. I will ignore the fact that she just threatened me.

“Until we meet again, then.”

“Old Goozar will come for you in an hour, bye,” she said as she left.

I went inside and explored my new house. It lacked the entrance/meeting room the Alpha had, as the first room was the living room. It had a table with four chairs around, which had weird proportions to accommodate diamond dogs instead of humans. So, the ponies use furniture meant for humans while the diamond dogs, which resemble us much more, use furniture meant for them. Fucking Equestria, how does it work?

Other than that, the living room had no furniture. The other rooms were a bathroom and a bedroom, which had only a toilet and a huge dog bed. I was surprised to find that the toilet worked like Earth’s ones, which meant that the dogs had a sewage system. I felt tempted to become a frog and explore it, but remembering my experiences in Fillydephia’s sewers changed my mind. I will NEVER swim in feces again! The lack of kitchen would have worried me if Ruffus hadn’t told me (I should have given a gift to that guy, his information was SO helpful) that male diamond dogs didn’t cook. The bitches (I love saying bitches with impunity) prepared two huge meals a day and the whole pack ate together. Most diamond dogs also had a quick lunch between both while working, which was provided by their boss or the slaves.

I became dangerously bored when I finished exploring, so I redecorated the bedroom and bathroom with whatever came to my mind, the more random the better, until they looked like they belonged to a dangerous psychopath (which I guess I am since I became a draconequus). I also wrote ‘rape room’ and ‘rape room 2’ over the doorframes of each room. I remembered that I hadn’t used the toilet since before going to Ponyville, with all my forms, so in the span of thirty minutes a bear, a diamond dog, a teen dragon, an owl, a bull and a draconequus all used it. I decided to only eat with one or two forms to avoid that ever happening again. I took a look at the gem lamps that illuminated my new house, as I wanted to know how did they work. I found rather soon that they were just gems charged with magical energy, which was slowly expelled as light. I tried to take a bit in, and I found myself losing the energy I was supposed to gain and feeling sick. I blamed it on trying to absorb harmonic pony magic when I was a chaos magic user. I was wondering if I could find a way to turn that magic into something I could use when I heard knocking on the door, so I changed to diamond dog and opened it.

“Balto?” asked a diamond dog that looked like a bulldog. Thanks to the cartoon mechanics of this universe, I could see age wrinkles even if they were supposed to be concealed under his fur. He wore a red vest and a collar with many whistles, at least ten.

“Yes, you Goozar?”

“Yes, you come with me,” he continued as we smelled each other, like diamond dogs always did when they meet each other so it will be something implicit from now on, “We eat now, then go work.”

I followed him to the Great Hall, which was the building where diamond dogs ate like medievals (in both organization and manners). The huge table was pi-shaped, with the upper segment occupied by Drogur, Gavriila, three cubs, surely their offspring, and a brutal pitch black diamond dog, more bear than dog, who I guessed was the Beta. The longer twin segments were occupied by the rest of the pack, the closer to the Alpha the higher ranked. I knew that, until I was officially included in the pack, I had to eat in the lowest ranked place.

“Eat fast, I no like waiting,” Goozar said as he walked to his place. He reminds me of my old boss, so bossy. Oh, wow. I have just remembered about my job and my boss right now. I’m going to be busy processing all the memories I have just recovered, go and do something else in the meanwhile, like listening to some music.

…
...
…

Alright, I’m ready to continue.

I sat on the chair that was meant for me. There were about three hundred diamond dogs eating together, not counting the ones scouting or doing other outside works. I also noted that a quarter of the table was unoccupied. Well, they wouldn’t be accepting new members if they had overpopulation. The dogs next to me growled when I sat, testing me as Ruffus had said they did with newcomers. I replied in kind, as well as barking twice and snapping at the one who was sitting at my left. They were a sorry lot, most of them crippled, small, frail or completely retarded. The status system seems to work, at least on the lowest stratus. They were also boring, as we were supposed not to talk to each other, they couldn’t be seen starting a conversation with someone with lower rank, and I shouldn’t talk to them as I would soon have a higher position. It was totally stupid, as the rule of having the lower ranked talk first only applied in the dining hall, but it was followed by the entire pack so I had to deal with it. At least the diamond dogs were, like all dogs, more aggressive than usual while eating, so I gained extra energy due to the small fights that took place all over the place.

Five bitches started serving the food, so I didn’t have to wait much until I got my ration. They gave me a wooden dish with a big bone with a little meat, a few mineral stones and a barely precious gem, which I could eat or save for later, as gems were used as a form of basic currency by diamond dogs. I ate it all, being less surprised than I should at the taste of stones and gems due to my strange instincts and quasi-memories of being a diamond dog. Goozar was one of the closest to the Alpha, and when I looked at him he was almost finished with his meal. I finished with mine as fast as I could and got up as he did. The Alpha had apparently nulled the rule of not leaving the table before he did, which was a nice gesture because he seemed to enjoy talking over his meal and eating slowly. I followed Goozar out of the hall and to the tents. He blowed one of his whistles, which made an almost painfully sharp and high noise, when we reached the center of the zone and I heard faint moans and felt the energy of the slaves’ despair feeding me.

“I know why you here,” he told me while the slaves began forming a file, “I be old, you be young, you replace me. You must have impressed Alpha, slave supervision is hard work, many things to do, some stupid dogs to order, many stupid slaves to order. Important to know what all do, slaves too. No job for stupid dog. You learn what all do, not only what I do. You only talk if you no understand, no chatter,” I nodded. Direct contact with the slaves! I’m going to become bloated with chaos! Yay!

In less than a minute they had formed a single file in front of us. I estimated that they were about one hundred. They were mostly ponies and griffins, but I saw a few zebras and diamond dogs. Ruffus had told me that a diamond dog could become a slave if he or she committed a crime not grave enough to be punished with deaths, or if he belonged to another warren, was caught and said warren refused to pay for his liberty or exchange him for another slave.

“This is first whistle,” he said, showing me the one he had used, “knowing time very important. I use this,” he showed me a watch on his wrist, “slaves take care of slaves. You come after eating, at 9:30 and blow whistle. They ready for work,” he turned to the slaves, “good morning, scum! This be Balto, he be Goozar’s new assistant,” he laughed, as he found the idea funny, “give me report.”

The old unicorn who was first in the line looked up.

“Wind Chaser is still too sick to work and Zekuro is stable and will probably recuperate fully from his injuries,” he said.

“This be slave mayor. He be Alpha of slaves, knows everything. You have question about slave, you ask slave mayor,” Goozar explained to me. “Alright, let’s go,” he added and we headed to the gates. There waited ten more dogs, wearing helmets and chest plates and wielding spears. “These be miners. They watch slaves, do things ponies can’t when we no have dog slaves and make sure slaves dig well,” he told me, “dogs! This be Balto, he be my assistant,” he told them, causing a few short laughs.

“You old, Goozar! You need cub helping!” said one of them between laughs.

“You call Balto cub now!” replied Goozar, grinning, “maybe regret that when I gone and he supervisor!” The laughter was now directed to that dog.

“Alright,” said Goozar after a few seconds, “enough laugh, now work.”

To arrive at the mines we had to cross another segment of the labyrinth, this one much shorter. The mines were pretty similar to the ones that appeared in the show, bigger and less oppressive than real human mines. Goozar was holding a huge map of the mines.

“This be mines map. Has pony magic for draw with claw and erase with fur. We follow five paths at same time, always same quantity of work. If slaves work good, they leave work early, if they work slow, they no leave until they finish. That good, slaves make lazy slaves work, or they work more. Sick and injured slaves heal fast, because they want to help friends or they hated by rest of slaves. If bad thing happens and impossible to finish day work you ask Alpha,” the slaves and diamond dogs were already going to their assigned places, “I stay here, only leave if miner needs help. You go with one group, they show you. If I need you, you hear this,” he blowed another whistle.

I never heard that whistle again, so I spent most of the day with a group. The two miners, Whoofer and Barker, showed me how they did their work. It was, all I all, kinder to the slaves than I expected from Ruffus’ information. They had spears for intimidation and self-defense, and a whip. They told me that the whip had to hit the air around the slaves that did something wrong, and only hit the slaves when they did something grave. If they never hit them, they would stop fearing the whip, but hurting the slaves was counterproductive in most cases. The slaves were allowed to talk between themselves, as long as they got the work done by the end of the day. The older or weaker slaves carried water, cooked lunch for everyone and cleaned the portable toilets (which, surprisingly, were just like Earth ones, too) whenever it was necessary. I was disappointed, as the slaves were just slightly unhappy, giving me much less energy than they would if they were fully miserable.

I am angry because the slaves are suffering less than I expected, when did I become so twisted, and why don’t I give a fuck about it?

There were two diamond dog slaves in the group, so the miners didn’t have to do actual mining at all. Griffins were rather boring, they didn’t talk much and when they did it was about how they missed the sky. Ponies, on the other hand, were funny because each one dealt with his situation in a completely different, and sometimes stupid, way. There was a pegasus mare with Stockholm Syndrome that kept on giving us the looks, a big earth pony that focused on working as hard as he could and a unicorn that talked to himself. The work was measured as the weight of everything they extracted, with each group having to pull a ton of rocks and dirt before they were allowed to leave. The first group to finish was given a small reward each day: the diamond dogs ate nearer to the Alpha and the slaves were allowed to go home earlier.

“This group never first,” Barker said, “few dogs, many puny ponies.”

“Today I here, we can be first,” I said.

“How?” asked Whoofer

“You do what I say,” I told him, then I talked to the slaves, “listen! Today we first to leave! We no use whips, we work! If we first, we do same thing tomorrow. If not, we no help you, use whips again.”

“Goozar don’t like miners working, we guard,” complained Whoofer.

“Goozar know nothing if we no say. You no want winning?” I asked, and Whoofer decided to obey me after a few seconds.

With our contribution, our group managed to finish first. It also helped to make the time go faster, as I enjoyed digging more than I expected. Goozar used another whistle that was heard in all the mining complex to inform the other groups of our victory.

“You go with this group, this group finish at 18:00 and wins for first time in long time,” he told me, “explain to me.”

“I finish learning, I say ‘I bored, work fast or I angry when I supervisor’, they work fast.”

“Only that?” he asked, not believing me, then he noticed my dirt covered paws, “I see... You no do that again, if you do same thing slaves do, slaves think they are same as diamond dog. That bad, understood?” he scolded.

“Understood, Goozar,” I said, trying to sound sincere.

“Normal day, last group finish around 19:00. 21:00 is dinner time, slaves must finish before 20:30 or we late to eat. If they no finish with no reason, we punish with dark cave.”

The dark cave was their rudimentary version of isolation cells, a group of independent small holes with no light and poor ventilation in which they locked people for days. Diamond dogs were also handcuffed so they wouldn’t dig out of the warren. The slaves feared it so much that they always found a way to avoid it, so it was only used once every five years or so.

Goozar let me leave early with the group. I had a few hours of free time until dinner, and as Granite Back lacked any kind of computer I decided to take a walk around the warren. I went to the slaves’ tents, where I found only the two injured slaves, the pegasus Wind Chaser and the zebra Zekuro.

“Where da slaves at?” I asked Wind Chaser, who was lying on his bed with draped in many blankets.

“The ones who have finished working should still be on the baths.”

“Where da baths at?”

“...You are the new one, right?” he asked.

“Yes, name is Balto.”

“I will guide you to the baths, master Balto,” we only used each other names when it was necessary. The rest of the time they called us ‘master’ and we called them ‘slave’ or ‘scum’.

I followed the sick stallion to the baths, which were like a Roman thermae. Now that I think about it, Granite Back had many things in common with a Roman city. Most of the slaves from my group were there, too.

“Master, do you know how the bath turns work?” asked Wind Chaser.

“No, tell me.”

“The masters can use the baths whenever they want, unless the Alpha or Beta commands one to bath because he stinks. We slaves use to bath after work, so you probably want to bath before or after to avoid sharing space with us.”

“I can order you to leave, right?”

“Of course, master, but you might be held responsible if we stink the warren with our odor. We ponies sweat a lot, and sweat smells bad.” Translation: force us to leave and we will do anything we can to smell worse so you get punished.

“I see. You can leave now, slave,” I said, and he obeyed without further ado.

I decided I should take a bath, as I had noticed that the diamond dogs with whom I had interacted didn’t smell too much, so they bathed at least once or twice a week. I could have used my magic, but I didn’t want to waste it and miss the opportunity of taking a relaxing bath. I ordered a slave to explain me how the baths worked, and I followed his instructions. I already knew how romans bathed (more or less), so I could tell he wasn’t trolling me. The constant influx of chaos I received from the entire warren, specially when I was around slaves, was enough to ensure I wouldn’t become sick or crazy if I didn’t act chaotically, so I enjoyed my bath even if I couldn’t swim because diamond dogs due to being denser than water.

After that, I visited every building, save for the Great Hall which I already knew. There were many different stores, ranging from a blacksmith to a bakery, a few public buildings like an infirmary and a fire station, a warehouse and the slaves’ restroom. The warren also had a foundry below the main cave, whose heat was used to warm the bath’s water. I started to consider that I could get used to life in Granite Back. Why involve myself with ponies, chaos’ offspring and eldritch beings when I can just live here and be a big fish in a small pond?

The hours passed fast with my exploration of the warren, and soon I had already dined and was heading to my house to sleep. S͠uddenly͢,̡ ͡E̛XP̶L̢OSIO͏N͏!!͝! ͏S̕ma̢s̸hin͢g̸,̴ ̛k͟i͝ll̵in͏g̛,͜ d̡ev͡o̕ur̨in̸g͠ ͝all. N͢o͢ ̨o͠n͘e ̛is sa͏ved,̸ ͢t́he͏ c͝hos͏e͢n fa͟ll͜, r͡u͢n ̡wi͘t͠h ̵t̷he hor͠des̕, ́tŗam̛p͏l̡e̴ ͜the we̢a̧k,̵ ͏crus̴h̸ th̕e ̸sk̸ulls ̛o͘f ̡t̛h͢o̕se̶ ͡that̵ ća̕n'̡t sp͝ȩak.͟ Swea̵ti̵ng,̀ bļee͡d̡in̵g,͢ ͏yo̸u̡ŗ ͘ȩyes ̵g̵o͘ wi͜d̸e,̡ the E͡a̷r͡t̀h̷ is͠-

o̸̮͔͈͈̼͐̋̔̎̿̍i̵͉̜̰̯̭͋̔͑̽͑͆ͬ̊̈́̏̔̏̄̏̚̕ä̴̷̴̫͖̣̤̼́͊̓ͬͥͫ͌̉ͯ̋̓̏̽̚͢b͌̎̓͒̈̎ͨ͂͏̵̨̡̟̻̟̰͍̦̫̬̘̦̝͍͟ͅk̴̶̜̙̟͎͈̦͍̬̱͈̱͍͓͑̆̀̚ͅş̞̝͉͓̜̃ͧ̌̈̌͛͌ͥ̚̕͟ḑ̛̜̰͖͇̜̻̗̻ͣͭ̃͢h͎̹̘͖͕̤̲͎̙̥̩ͫͫ̈ͯͩ̾̈́͌̈͐́͂ͦ̈́̽́́i̢̭̪̪͇̩͈̗͚͇̞̩͉͎̫̦͇ͪͥͯ̌̉̿ͦ͢ẉ̷̸̵̸͎̰̖̥̳̜̹͎͇͔͈͔͕͈̽̔͛͌ͪ̔ͦ̍͌́̿ͮͤ͆̈͗̈͑̌͞ͅų̮͕̪̝̝͊́̓ͤ͋̅̄̇̄ͭ̿̐̕͠ͅj̧̥͕̖̺͍̭͈̹͇͔̼͙̪͎̗̣͓̻͊ͯ̍̏ͦ̏͒ͤͦͣͪ̄ͤͣ̃͐͗̑͢k̻̬͚̥̪͍͖̻ͯ̐̋ͨ̕͘͞n̓̑̈ͨ̽̓ͣ̐̋̚҉̦̬̦͙̲͚̘̖̥̪͓͎̜͙̕͢j̙̼͍̜̻͇̣͕ͬ̑̽̑ͫ̕<̷̡͕̬̰̭̰̞̫̤͉̱̻͎̩́̑̑͗ͥͤ̚ͅͅñ̸̖͉̞̦̐̉̍̑̀͐͑ͨ̆́ͧͦͧ̒ͤ̓ͩ̎́̀͘s̢͗͂̒̽̿͏̬̞̹̫̙̩̠̟̠͚̬͕͚j̧͚̹̝̳̫̼̳̥̙͈͇͈͓͖͇̫̎̈́̊͗̍̾́͟b̷̖̬̥̲̼̞͎̰̳͉̀̑̉͂ͭ͐̂ͪ̐͆ͨ̚͘ͅi̴̵̛̺̙͓̓̃̋̈́͌̿ͭͨ̍̇ͮ͛͡ǔ̴̷̃̃̉͐̏ͥ̎̒͏̼͎̪̞͉w̵̴̪̥͔̝̠̳̖̭͈̭̼͙̩̍̆ͩͦ͗ͯ͊̃ͧ̾ͯ̉̓͑͊̓̀̚͡͝e̵̸͔̙̬̺̞̪͍̟͓͎͉̽ͧ̀ͦͪ̉ͥ̏̍̉ͩ̍͊͒̆ͭ̽̂͑͢ͅḃ̸̬̖̻̪̯̜̲͓̪͉̳̆͊̿͒͐̊ͪͥ̃̾̏ͦ̆̋̚͡͞j̢͉̻̱͚̮͖̜̪̪̼͓̰͚͕̿̔͌ͥͮ̄͑̔ͣ̉͐́ͅu̢͈̜͓ͭ͊̈́͗ͯͬ̄͢͞V̵̳͎͚͙̻̜͉̠̮͒̊͋̉̇ͧ͊͂͋̿̾͒̀N̸̟̭͎̳̩̞̙̗̣̗͋ͣ̎̒͋̈́ͧ̍̅ͫ̉ͫͯ̈́̑̎ͯ̚ͅȖ̌ͣ̊͆ͬͧ̽́͋͂ͨͧ͞҉̡͙̲̫̝̟̻͈͉̜͕̲̥͜I̛̻̥͔̯̲̼̯̬̥͓ͩͨ͌ͦ͐͑͌ͫ̃̏ͩͨ̇͢Ḙ̩̘͙̩̬̝̯̞̀͊ͧͦ̑̈́̂̎͌͗̌̂ͣ̇̄̇̓́͟V̶̧̑ͨͮ̂̉̔̉ͤ͑ͩ̃̾͂͑ͯ͂͞҉̖̘̻͉̺̟͇̗͔̼̝̦̣̹͜ͅB̩̖͎͚̭̪͚̦̪ͭ̈̎̓͗̌̓͊̓ͪ͛̊̀ͧ̚̕i̧̧̼̥̘͉̝͍̮̞̐ͧͯ̇͛̄̉̇͌ͯͧ͘ĵ̡̡͇̟̗̝̥̥̣̗͖̗͖̩̹̣͙ͣ͛͊͂̊̐ͯ̀̀͘ͅn̢̓̏̍͐̋̌ͮ̉҉̶͏̤̻͓͔͈̼̮͢k̵͚̼̬͙̗̯̹̭̘̻̤̼̻ͦ̾͒͗̏̎ͭ̐͂ͣ͗̅̊̀ͦ̒̎ͥ̚͝s̸̷̛̝͓̭͙͕ͮ̏͌ͩ̀̆̚͜͝ͅͅc̸̨̛͙̲͖͕͖̹͍͈͍̘̦͇̟̩̳͑̓͆̆̍̂͟a̛ͫͬ̒̅ͦ͏̻̬͎̘͓̭͎̰͖ḩ̣̫̟̙̭̮̟̱̯̄̈́̓̏ͥ͒ͩ̉ͪͣͥ̊ͤ͐̚͟u̓̽̓̉̅̎͛ͧͭͪ͛̆̓̉͛̓̾̅҉̴̷̵̛̗͙̼̼̤̟͙͇̞̜̗͚̳͍̝̳͖d̺͎̯̖͔̝̞̖̦̲̩͔̦̮̈͑͂͆̒̀͟b͋͂̒̉̒̎҉̷̫̮̯̼̲̬w͛̊͌͑͜͏̟̭͎͇̠̝̳͕̪̣̜̞̞̰̯̳̹͎į̴̷̢̝̣̰̹̖̝̏͋̈́̓ͪ̇̒̅͊͆ͤ̋͛́ͭͮ͋͝I̡̡̤͓̪̱͈͋͋̅̓ͦ́̌ͤͫ͋̒̆̔͒͗̐ͦ̈͢͜H̛̟̰͓̤̙̘͔̺̪̰̞̉̃ͬ̄̎̿͐ͯ͆ͅW̥̳̯̭̻̠̝̭̯͖̯̦̱̫̘̦̪̻̪ͤ̉̎ͣ̏ͩ̾̏͊̀̕̕͠Ȩ̧̤̺͖͚͙͚̠̫̰̤̭̾ͥͬ̃ͨͬ̿ͥ̓̃ͭ͝G̶̵̿ͥ͋̄̒̓̓ͦͫ͏̤̫͕̬̭͔̯̻͓̖̦̞͚̯͍̦̞O̸̶̧͍̤̦̜͇̤͇͇̯̩̫̜̠̦̠̺̝̖̠ͨ̌̊ͮ̿͛̓̓͆̅̔̀̏̌ͧ̒ͩͨIͩͦ̂̍ͬ̿͂ͤ̓͗͑͆̊̄͊̍̌̈͢͏̸͖̠̞̗̩̳͈̫̟̞̪̯̪̠Ë̷̢͖̫͓̜̦̪̳̜̹̮͓̦̗̣́͆ͭͭ̀ͨͨͫ̊̀͛͑́̒G̴̻͓͎̩̥̜̺̼̻̺̱͔̳̻̳͉̯̜͔ͮ̂̉̈͑̅̀́J̵̬̠̘̺͔͖̲̰͍̫̥̮̫̖̟̙̟̮ͬ̉ͦ͒ͦ̊̄͊ͅR̨͓̭̳̻͓̤̖̻͕̭͛̀̈̊̒̈́͜͡N̢͗̂̔͗̃̓ͧͦͨ͝͏̴̬̪͙̝͖͚͖̺̱̀H̒̽̃͗̕҉̭̺̥̺̳̬̖̱̫̱̺͘J̨͉̰̜̟ͯͤ̒ͪ͑ͭ̔̀͑ͪ̍̃͛̈́̉̋̇̀̀́̀͜B̡̛̗̩͔̥̝̞̳͕̪͈͙̭̻̬̣̒͑͋ͥ̈̎͆̈̉͆ͣ̒ͭͥ̀͘Ņ͕̜̭̼̲̳̫̘̖͖̫͎̩̫̤̥̣͉͉͂͑̄̉͌̈ͣͤ̐͗͐̿͂͆͋̑́́͞A̒͑̂ͤͨ̎̌̌́̓̓̆̂̾̍ͣ̒̿҉̙͉̙͓̩͚̯͉̼̙͔̟̜̱̘͕͖͘I͗ͭ͒͑̃̃ͦͬ͑̐͏̴̬̗͈̹̠͓̗̝̬͓̠͎̬͖͔̺̯͕͓Ẉ̧̻̮̥͓̞̳̗̭̳̤̥̲̄ͤ͌ͭ̿̐̒̃̿ͯͭ̅̏̚͢
̴̧̳̜̰̙̱̞͒ͧ̊̀ͦ̋̍̾̔ͭ̈͂̄̃ͅO̢̲͖̤̔̅͆ͣ͊ͬ͛̃͒̔̏͒̐͆̕͝͡͠3̛̼̩͓͇͉̳ͮ̓̓ͪ̍͗̏̿̇͜9̸̵̧̛̞̱̮̙͔̤̉ͪͥ̚0̴̲̼̦͙̼͎̬̭̘͎͈̞̮̑̃͗ͩͥ͂̋̽̒̓ͯ͆͒͡8̐̑ͧͣ̇̒ͦ҉̫̞͍̞̦͓̕ͅ3̶̶̢͖͕̰͍͇̯̪͙̻̼̱́ͩ̽̽̎ͣ̌͐͝ͅ5͎͇̰͉̟͙̠̹̟̙̯͕̘̦̻̺̹̦̾̅ͬ͆ͪͦͦ̒ͭ̿ͮ͂̉̎̔̑́̚̕͜͠͡Ç̛̼̪͔̱̖̃̄ͤͣ̋̔̑͂̀3̴ͪͧ͛̿ͤ͡҉̵̼͉͔̜͓J̵̘̫̱͙̤̭̤͔͖̰͉̭̯̦͙ͥ̍̈̅̈͌̾̔̏ͦ̽̀ͧ͋̾ͯ͘I̴͖̲̹̰̟͂̉̐̄̌͐͌́̆͛̆̾͆͌͞ͅ9̴̶̝̟̱̭͍̠̗̗̼̟̪̥͍̮͇̓̋̾̆̾̓ͥ͗̀́0̡̡̩̠̥͍̗̝̱̫̺̰ͪ̂̇̈́ͪ̑̄ͪ͆ͫ͌̃͗̀̈́͒ͤͅG̸̛̝̺̤̪̠͕̟͉̜͖͈̠ͥ̊ͣ̾̉́̍̇̆U̶̳̥͉̪̭̰̳̹͚͈͍̭̿̅̍̄́͌ͩ̾͠Ě̵̆ͬͩͤ͒̾ͬ͒̔̑͆̂͊̓҉҉̬͚̭͉͉͍̖Ï̛̛̩̣͕͓̞̗̪͔̓̇ͭ̀͘͘ͅOͫ̄ͪͨ͗̍̄ͫͨ̒̓̍̚͘҉̵̰͔̟͔̪̟͖̩̬͚̫͙͙̀̀`̵̴̞͉̟̮̞͕̟̬̘̖̣͕̩́͋̓ͣ̀̒ͤ͗̋͜͢͞K̸ͪ̍́ͬ̿̕͜҉̙̭̖̗J̙̹̝̬̺͇̪͎͐́̔ͨ̀̍ͦ̓ͯ̋̋͌̀͢B̝̱͔̫̳̩̬͙̤̙͓͆ͨ͊ͥ̚͡N͐ͥ͆̓̑̀̌̿ͦ͐̚͏̶̵͈͈̣̥̦̠̮͎̘̮̰̰̗̻̙͕̼̣͓͘Gͩͣ͋͐̇͋̾̓̽ͯ̈̈́҉̡̼̮̺͍̝͔̹̝͍̘̤̲̥͉͕I̛̛̿̎̓͑ͦ͋̃̒̐ͭ̀̊ͩ̆̑҉̺̟̱̭̣̯̥̼̖̯͙̺W̴̛̟͈̣̰͌̄ͨ͛̂̈́̔̆ͅĮ̥͔̝̫̝͓̞̫̹̱̮̃͆͋̐̋͂͊͠͠L̵̷͔͕̘̫̟̳̺̙̼ͦ̇͌͑́L̶̸̡̜̘̰̮̣̫̪̰̩̟̖̪̲̭̟̩͋̾ͭͭ͑̂̉͗͊̈́ͦ̈͋ͪ͌̋ͤͫ̓͢͝ͅKͤ͌̑̓̄ͥ͛̎̀͏̞̼̖͙̭̗̺̠̼̹͈̪̀͞I̛̤͉̙͖̜̭̠̮̺̰̹̹̬̤̜̣͎̱ͫ͌̏͒̓̒͒͂ͪ̆̽̕͟ͅL̛͔̮͚̖̥͚̹̰̰̳͙͕̳̞͉̲̠͍̩͒͋ͭ̓̎ͧ́L̶̨̧̡̗̰͇̭̹͇͇̼͍̫͎̲̜͉̥͓͒̽̏ͦ̌ͪͪ̊͗ͧͫ̋ͦ̎ͨ̀ͅY̍ͪ̍͊ͥͬ̈́̋̉͗̉͗͌͞҉̡̮̲̱͕͔̻͘͡ͅͅO̷̡̹̣̲̰͚̲͚͔̲̮̭̻̮̭͗ͤ̓́U̔̄͑̽̾̂ͬͦ̔ͩ͏̡̤̥̭̣̰͙̜̟̰̩A̶̶̢͉͕̻͇̮̱̣͋ͧ̋̂̔͐ͩ͞N̸̺̳̥̳̦̼͕̈̎̄ͧ͒ͭD̸͆̿ͮ̈͑ͥͬ̊ͬͭ͑̕͠҉̯̼͚͔͙̼͔͙̝̗̻͍̯̦̳ͅR̵̻͙̗͎͓͔͕͖͇̬̓̋̂̎̈̒̐͊̽ͥ̎̑͑̀ͅA͙̙̣̠̗̰̮̝̲̞̜̬̜̲̣̩͈̓̈́̏̍̉͜͝ͅP̌͐ͤͤ͛ͭ̈̍̈̊̉ͤ̿͏҉͡͏͇͚͈̫͉͔̝E̔͑̔̂͆̇͆ͯ̐ͨ͗̔̾̉̾͊ͤ͛̆҉̧̦̱̩̜̠͈͓̖͎̳̼͈̭̗̣̝̤̕͟Y̴̢ͣͮ̋̍̾̎̋͗͡͏̘̥͓̫O̿̍ͮͬͧ̆̌ͤ͑̽̓͂̇ͬͨͦ̋̒͏̝̥͈̪͍̳͕̪̹͇͈U̵̶̫̥̣̮̟̬̲̭̘͖̯͕͍͉͋̏̀͆ͥͮ́̄ͬ̈́̀͜͝R̢̛͕͈͇̦͓͕̺̹̘͓̱̭̜͎̮̥͋ͭ̎̊ͩ̅̀̽́ͭ̀͐̇ͩ̏̐̚͢͠͝ͅB̶̯̫̹͚̹̫̾ͥͥ͂ͭͩ̿ͦͣ̚͘̕ͅO̷͍̱̥̱ͣ͂̆̏̾͗̆̓ͫ͑ͩ͆̃̊̓̄ͩ̀̕D̪͎̣ͤͧͯͯ͑̔̂̽͘͢ͅY̛̲͔͇̩̬̼̮͕͇̺̠̟̜̏ͭ͆͛̌̾̂͆̅͆̚͟͡͠ͅͅḦ̵͇͖͍̠̙͔͈̠̪̮̯̙̲̩̻̩́ͥ̾͗ͨ̉́͢͡J̸̢̛͍̰̝̙̺̆̀͗̔̑̈ͪ̊̆̈́̃͂̿̀K̫̖̺̗̤͙͇̱̞͉̱̻͓̱̳̝̳̳̳͋͌̎ͫ͊̉͊ͯ̅̍̓ͩ̓ͭͣ͟L̴̷̴̸̝͙̮͙̦͔̗͍̖̼̺̼͓̝̞̉͐̓̆͠V̵̧̡̞͍̦̪̱̖̟̫̻͈̇ͬ̄ͨ̓̾̉̐͋̇̉̎̆́͟
̶͈͚̞̫̺͎͈̜̙̜̗̳̬̹̳͗̒̌̃͊̈ͧ̐̅́́͋ͪ̒͌̈͠Ñ̌͒̍̆҉̨̙̥͚͖̟̭̬̬̲͘͝͝ͅͅJ̥̩͚̞̰̳͖͓̬̻͔͇̟ͧ͑͆͒ͭ̉͛̔̏ͦ͆ͩ̽͗̚͘͡͡͡͠H̸̴̨͕̲̯͉͓̙͓̦̟͗̋̏͌͆̄́̆̂̂̄̂͂̎̍̌͊̀̚Wͪ͆̃͗̀͐̎́҉̱͓̯̲̱̦̻͇͍̺̗̳͞Ȩ̸̢͕̲̝̲̥̦̟͈̺͖͔̩̞͔ͩ͒̈́ͧ͐̓ͦ̐͂̽̏̒̈́ͩ̓̓̄̚̚͘̕Ŗ̘̹̯̞̮͉̥͓͕̱̣̼̹̳̤̼̆ͪ̃̇̏̒̇̋ͫͨ̈͢ͅT̶̵̸̪̜̤̘͉̰ͥͣ͛͂̈͐̈͘ͅU̷ͤͩͩ̽̄͋ͯ͏̴͖̼͇̲̜̰̲͖̗̗͖͍̘̩͇̼̜̗͈͝͞I̵͎͕̯̪̳͔̱̠̥̟̫̝̩͍̙̜͋̌͊̒̍̂̄̎̽ͥ̆̋̽́̕L̵̨̢̡̮̠̩̜̜͉̔̓͗ͤ̔ͪͩ̇ͮ͂̂̒͒ͤ̂͠Ñͩ͊̀̈̋̿̿ͥ́͆̈́̏̐ͫ̾̕͘҉͚͙͇͚͍̘̮̱̮̳̜͍͓̹̙͔̲͔G̛̤͚̬̟͈͎̞̖͍ͣ͋ͣ̓͗̍̿ͤ͑̓̈ͩ̋ͪ̀̆͜͟͠.̡̡̗͈͈̘̞͂̄͒̑́͟͢TWait̵̃̋ͪ͂̈́̔҉̛̭͚̘̭̣͇̭̭̠̭̩͕͇̱̘͕͓̥͠ͅM̢ͤ̀̔̍͡҉̳̰͈͍͖̞͎͕R̨̰̻̯̪̪̫̞̻̱͓̜̩̘̖̞̭̬͚͛ͨͧ̾̓ͥ̄̈ͮ̆̑̕͘͢͝ͅJ̵̵̫̺̠̳͉̼̞̹̙͎̊̇̋̐̋ͮ̔̾̊̚̚ͅȨ̸̨̻̟̗̲͙̝̼̌ͧ̋̔̃ͯͩ̃͂͂̏̎̀ͥ͌ͣ̄̑̕Ị̢̘͕͍̙̟̬͍͖̪̥͉̭̖̳̻̹̊ͤͭ̈́ͪ͛̔̅̕͠ͅS̴̡̹̘̲̪̖̗͎͊̅ͬͨͧͧ̔̈ͨ͐͂͆̒̃ͮͩ͊̓̀̀͠O̘͙͚̖ͭ͗ͫ͌̋́͌ͥ̌̔̃̌̕͟͞C̨̧̒͒̍̋ͪͤ̑͋̃̿̄̓ͧ̍̎ͪ́́͏̰͕̥͇̞̳̩͓͇̙͚͍͎̳Ļ̃ͣ̈́ͫ͒̀͞͏̞̠̗͔̫͝V̛̛̲͍̭͎͙̰̹̠̜̭̝͈̗̏̂̉̓͊̊̿̃,̸̢̰̖͚͓̜͓͍̬̗͔̭̠̰̬̥͇͖̾͊͛̉ͩͭ̂ͪ̚͘͝M̸̸̦͙̱̰̹̳̜̻͖̼̥̱͚̟̆ͥ͑ͪ̉̓̔ͭ͒̾̇̏̐̍͒͑̾ͅǴ̷̴̢̞̼̠̺̠̻̙̰̤͉͈̗͇̯̟̱̞͎ͣͥ̉̓̒͠H̨̱̯͔̱͖͈̮̭̜̙̪̱ͩ̿͑́͢͢Ñ̛͎͔̺̳̝̳͎̙̬̪̥͈̮̬͕̺̰ͭͨ̎̂ͥ̅̾ͯ̓ͤ̀̅ͦ̈̚͢Y̨̛̹̪͓͔͖̤̫̺͈̘̪͍̍ͭͮ̾́ͩ̉̽͂͗̄̓͗̌̽̇́̚Ḩ̙͎͚͉̜̖͉̌̀̔͛̉̎ͨͯ͂͑ͪ̑ͫ̌͛ͩͭ̀̚͝T̊̏ͨ̎̀̆̊ͬ̚͏͚͚̫̗͖̯̳̰̺̝͉̯̹̦̘̜̳͠͞Y̡͍̥͉̺̤̓̉̔ͯ̓̉͐́̚̚͢5̵̴̗͔͖͈͉ͩ̃̾̿͐͂͘7̷̂̿͆ͧ͌̿͊͑ͬ̑̑ͬ̊͌̾̋̚҉̵̨̱̺̣͓̻̺̣̠̯͍̺͕̼͔̳̫͚̫̕4̷̴̶̢̝̩͈̫̮͍̾ͪͧ̽̏ͪͧ̍̑͝E̶̵͖̫̟̯͈̞͉̟̬̠̰̱͐͂ͤ̋̔ͭ͗̈́ͤ̆ͪͩͬ͒̍̍̍͂8̷̷̡̩̥̺̝̬͉͇̝͍͌͋ͬ̃̌ͦͨͭ̈̌ͦ̌ͣ͊́̓̈̐͘͡Ȉ̸̡̛̦̪̫̲̼̦͓͖͇̫̤̏̀̓̐ͬ̐̃͘ͅD̵̸̰̥̙̦̟ͭ̑̏͌ͪ̑̀̉͌̀̒̇̒͆͑̾̓͒K͉̘͚̤͍͎̖͚̩͔͖̹͎̗̯̖͉̪ͦ͗͊ͤͦ̎̈́́͘M̴̨͖̪̳̘̻̺̼̠̥̙͍͚̲͒̓̏̽́̚͝͞ͅṈ̵̵̰̥̈ͬͮ͛͊̊ͣ̈̃͛͒ͪ͌̀͜͞G̡̣̙̜͎̹͍̖̖̬̳̼̹̯̓̒̾ͯ̚͘͜͝͠H̡̨̨͈͓̳̹̤̟͈̝̥͇͈̯͓͎̆̈̉́ͩ̎̚͜ͅJ̷͓̫̙͚͚̘͈͉̈̀ͧ̒ͤT̵̷̛̲̱̻̜̩̪͎̻͖̠͕͈̪̰ͦ̋̏͌̅̊̋͂͐̑͛̊̽̓ͣ͊̀̆̚͢͡Uͤ̂͋͌̎ͯ̾̅͛ͫ̋͋́́́̂ͦ́҉͈͈͉̠͉̺̯̱6͗̃̀̏ͭ͗̃ͩ̀͋ͦͣ͏̖̞͕̦̫̗̣͜͝͞7̷̶̸̢̪̩̮̟̣͍͎̮͈̽͛̄̌̉̽͂̓̀̒̍̚͡4̴̧̏̏̄ͤͣ̀͞҉̠̻͔̫͕̹͈8̶̨͙̺̭̳̺̟͇̯͖̰̣̪̜ͪ̏͂͑̅ͮ̐̎ͬ̽̊̋͘̕9̗̮͉̬̻͍͓̗͚͖̗̤͉̲̪̤̥̭̣ͤ̏̋̈̉̾ͮ́̃ͭͫ̋̅̽̓̀͠3̶́ͭ̈͑ͨ̅͒̀҉̢̜̯͔̖̜̱̩͟͠Ơ̺͙͙͎̙͑͊͗͑́̈́ͭ̒ͦ̄́͟͡0̛͍̥̱̙̺̰̰͉͇͔͔̘͉̈̅̈́̎ͭ͌̉̄̂̒͊̊͌ͬ̓̽
̊͒͒̊ͩ̂̂ͥ̉̊͞҉̠̟̥̺̩̬͍̳̙͕̬̟̜̺̦͍W̰͇͍̪̪̘̣̠̝̖̦͖͕͓̒ͮͪͯ̓͋̋ͫ̊͗ͥ̽̓̋͋̓ͭͭ̚͢P̛̖̹̝͚̩̜̭̰̤͈̜̗̥͉͖͖̼ͣ̑̓̑̉͗͂͑ͩ̿̾ͣ͒̋̎͘͜ͅS̷̶̫̘̩̹͙͈̟͍̖̜̲͚͖̤͇̪͙͐͂ͤ͆̌̽͗̽̉̀̌͟Ñ̴̤̞̱͔̠̜̲̣̹̪͕͔̳͖͎̳̩̙̅͒ͪ̾̑̀͟D̷̤̫̻̲̭͕̳̖̳͉̮̬̤̹͎̔̒ͥ̅̓͌̄̂ͤͣ̇̈ͣ̑ͬͮ͒͝͠C̵̢̠̺̗̼̘͚̠͉͇̣̲͖̲̘͚͔̭̏̍̇ͦ̑̾͊̾̂ͮ͆ͫͥ͒̏̆́̑̒̀͞Ơ̡̼͈̳̺̭͔̜͚̺̯̭ͤͤ͗͗̎̆̀̿̍̉ͥ̒̄͋ͮͭ̀́̕I̍ͪͥͪ͂ͭͣͧ҉͔͙̤̹͕̥͔̺͟ͅV̷͑̎̂̍ͥ̊͆̿͗͑͂ͣ͊̄̂̇̐̾̚͡҉̙̼̩͇̻Ư̢͎̲̗̍̂̔ͬͮ̈̇ͮͮ̍̀͑̊͛̀͢͡͡Y̦͉̻̥̪̰̗̣̼̤̖̩̋ͤ̎̓ͫ̐̽͐̏̈ͮ͑̇̄̔̇ͫ́́U̶̵̮̻̻͈͔̅̈͒̌̅ͫ̋͊̍̎̔͐ͬ͘͟J͗̊̍̓̆̌ͤ̍̽ͣ̈́ͥͩͯ̂̄͐͏̡̢́҉̥̝̯̪̱͇̠̞̹̬ͅC̵̷̡̠̜̲͕̘̼̤͈͍̮ͫͥͩͧ̈́̀̊͂ͧ̐̆͐̈̾͊̋̀Ķ̴̺̥̭̤̮̟̟͚̭̩̫̬͕̳̇̅̐ͨͣ̅ͮͩ̋͆ͯ̏̊ͦ̒͆̕Dͭͮ̅̽̎͛̍ͫͣ͘҉̶̗̺̪̱̦͉̘̰̹̜̝̳̺̣̱ͅL̹̠͈̪̬̭̲̿̈́̎̈ͥ͐̽̓ͨ̅̾ͬͮͪ͌̚͜͜͞͠͝E̡̢̫̰̞̯͔͓͙͕̟̱̊̂̅̒̒̓ͪ͑ͮͤ͆͛ͩͨ͢͞W̡̧̘̹̭̮͇̟͕̞̟̫̹̘̯̥͓̞̼̓ͭ̔̌̏̓̒͆̿̇̎͗̄ͯ͌̂̀̚͝Lͫ̄̿͋͗ͦ͂̑͂͆̔̎͏̧̨̪̩͎͍͚͖̬̺̩̝̻ͅR̬̠̤͉̗͔ͯͤͭ̄ͪ̒̽͛̔͘͡F̸̵͚̣̖̣̜͙̮͓̭̦͙̈́͆̔ͬ̇ͤ̋̉̌̉ͬ͊̾̉ͯ͐ͪͦ͟͞͝ͅĶ̨̛͈͕̟̩͎̙̬͉̤͓̖̃̂̔̐̃̏͑̎͌̋̔̋̂̀͘G̢͇̲̰̤͙̘̭̩̼̠̠ͯ͐̾ͮ̅̍̐ͤ̏̍ͨ́ͨ͟ͅA̢̧̪͇̞̺̭̥̗̮̻ͧ̾̀͞D͕̞̥̱͚͚̦͍̺̼̹̯̻͙̬̜͎̹̐ͯ̇͋͊͐̑̀̿̆̽̈́̃͒ͤ́̄̈́ͣ͘͟͠Dͫͧͬ̅ͨ͂ͪ̎̓ͭ́͡͏̪͈̭̻̮̫̮͈͍̪́Į̸̶͈̹̙͖͔̣̗͎͙͉̙̿̂ͮ͆̂͛͐̾̒͑̓ͤ̐́̚C̷̵̴̼̙͔̣̠̭̤ͫͮͮ̇͗̐͆ͬ́͋T̵̻̘͚̪̜̠̻̺͕̣̤̘̹̠̖̞̫͎͇͋̃̇̌͐͐̾͂̈́ͮ̓̂ͩͨ̍̀͜͟͝Ẻ̶̸̡̧̮̘̞̖̤̗̈ͪͯ͐̉̂̅̈́́͋̆ͭD̋̆̀͊̈̾ͩ҉̶͏̩̜͕̙̰̖̫̰̥̖͘Ţ̨̢̢̬̟̪̮̜̼̱̦̲͑̎ͤ̌ͅͅO̅̏̇ͫͬͤ́̅̈ͫ̽͆̍̾̑̇͏̱̬̜̱͓̦̯̰͠V̶̴̵̬̰̻̼͍̪͒̿͂̏̏́̿̔͋̍̓̎̽͟ͅA̷̶̬͉͇̟̬͎̮̮̻̗̘̮ͦ̋͐ͪ͛͡͡ͅG̴̈͗͗͌̌̐̎̀͂̆͐̋̽ͤ̌̌̚҉͔̣̟̣̖͉̬͉̹̖͈̻͖̥̭͇͚̯͚́̕͞Ȉ̴͙̙̰̼͚̩̦͖̟̭͓̱̪͈̪̹͖ͪͯͥ͝N̢ͫͨ͒̑̂ͬ̀ͮͤͥ͝͏̘̹͓̰͔̥̗͇̟̠̫̩̞͉͍̯̰̠͢ͅĄ͉͔̣̣̰̤ͧ̔ͥ̃̈̽ͦͣ̆̅̊̈͂̀̚Ĺ̷̡̰̝̣͇͇̜̫̱͎̦̟̜͙̖͆̾̑S̶̴̢͇̬̮̳̙͍̪̪̱̙̹̦̑ͩ̂̓͊ͩ͟͝K̷̵̵͍͖͔̯͇͉̣̺̐̋̅͆̆̃͘I̷̸̡̪̳̥͔̲̞̻̰͓̩̯͖̗̤̘͌̾̃̇̊̀̊ͦ́̈́͒͒̓͢N͎̟͙̙̫͕͈̟͔̖̤̩̩̩͌̐͂̐͝J̧̡̛̦͓̗͚͕ͭͨ́ͦ͢U̶̻̺̣̳̖̙̯͉̻͈ͤ̿̄́ͯ̄͛͒ͫ̓͒͊ͬ͌̽́͢͝Ņ̴̪̪ͯ̆ͥ͐ͤ̒̃̓̊̉̏͊̕͜͡ͅ6̨̫̘̟̼͈̥͔̘͈̘͔̱̜̾͗̅ͯ̉̽̊̀ͅT͙̦̰̫̱̦̙͓̱̮͖͕̹̖̫̝ͩͤͪ̉̏̄ͥ̓̐ͮͪ̓ͤ̾̀̚T̢̳̗͎̻̱̼̭͕͕͚̩̜͉̣̮̩̥͙ͯ͗ͭ̍̓͐̃ͨͧ̍̽ͦ͋̐̾͛́͆̈͝7̵̛̮̪̩̭̾ͧ̋̍̃̅̄̂ͮ̔͋͝͞8̶̶̬͓͙̦̬̯̮͉͎̖̭̩̤ͨ̈ͮͦͧͦͨ̋̈́̓ͨ͂͆̽̚͜
͙̞̼̼͎̬̎ͩ͋̏͗ͦ͒̋ͫͨͥ́4̸̨̰͍̙̣͇͇̺̤̬̪̠̯͖̜̭̘̼̬̣ͥ̾ͭ̔͛ͧ͒͂̅̚͝͞9͆ͯ͋̈̍̽ͤ̄̈ͩ̆͐̆̇̄ͩ͏̴̸̛̛̟͇̘̠͙̮̦͖͈͚̩̱̱͖̜͇͍͉3̧͇̳̪͇̯̘̝̯̠͚̯͛ͪ̓͒ͭ̊̿ͬ̽̓͋ͣ͑͟0̴̨̛̤͉̩̲̰̗͔̹̻͎̖͇̗͓̖̋̔͊̃ͨ̐̊̉͊̐̐ͯ͗̉̐͠͡4̵̨͇͖͔̙͙̦̪̻̟͖̣ͣͮͬ̆ͮ̈ͫ̈̎́̓́͊́5̶̘͈̲̠̭͍̱͉̬̖̠̞͓̼̭̣̮̤̂ͣ̆̐͆̑̃̑̾̂̎Į̔̉̊̈́͒ͭ̿ͩ̽ͤ̽̅̇͑̃̚͝͏̭̟̖̱͖͉̲̺͎̗̣̹͇̖͔͢͞ͅO̱̬̳͓͉͓̰̞͉͚̗͍͖̥͈͍̻ͫ̔̽̑̎̒́̕̕͠͡ͅ6ͮ̅̍̿́ͫ̽̄ͭ̂͌͑̈ͤ҉͖̜̯͉͍́̕͞G͍̹̭̗̘̱͖͔̥̝̞̜̪̠̋ͦ̽̊ͩͪ̈̌ͤ͢F̢̟̰͚̣̗̝͎̂͐̐̀̍̇̒̃̍̈̋̋͛ͭ̀͢7̨͛̋͂͆͠͏̵̡̞̰͚͍G̘̙͎̟͔̖̰͉̙͍͙̝̪̝̺͈̊͗̒ͮͥ̄̓ͭ͐ͥ̿͆̆ͩͧ͂̍͘͘͘͝ͅ6̵̷̨̖͔̥͓͎̭̖͓̜̟͕͇̟͈̬̺̗̇ͥ͆ͭ̈͛̊̅ͣ͋ͯͣͨŢ̶͇̩͔̹̭͉͈͈̰͚̗͍̯̭͎̞̱̖̌ͯ̈̌̈́̇͒̀̇̆̈ͥͪ̑̚͟͞ͅI̶̷̭̮̫̬̩͖͊́̑̉ͯͤͨ͆ͧ̒͂͌̇̆̿͂ͨͫ̿͢F̧̈́ͧ̐ͦ̽̒̑̂ͣ͋ͤ̿҉͓̗̜͙̫̭̤̖͈̗̯͕̥͎͍̗̖̖͝͝ͅO̶̵̪̫͔͓̳̫̖͖̩̖̰ͥ̎ͨ̍̓ͣ̔ͤ̓ͥ̈ͯͣͧ̎̽ͯ͛̚͠ͅP̴̧̗̤̥͖̗͙̟͙͛̓ͯ͒ͭ̔̊ͪͦ̍̆ͥ̓ͬ͜͟ͅV̸̺͕̝̰̤͙̮̹̻̖̩̭̿̓ͪ̆̉́͢͡`̸̷̺̘̯̇̆͆͋ͣ́́Ĝ͍̖̭͙̼͎̮͍͉͙̦͎̪̪̖͚͕̫ͯͨ̾ͪͨ̀͜P̴̶̼͉̰̙͉̹̱̜͉̲ͫ̾ͭ̏ͦ̈́͊̑̈́ͮ̅̍̀̄ͣ͋́H̶̯̟̝͈̯̣͓̣̤̳̹̹̼̞̦͊̀͗ͥͦ̽ͣ̂ͨ̐̃̄͢O̶̧̞͔̠̘̟̹̳͎̝̜̟̺̥̊͂̓̎̋̏ͪ̀ͅK̶̢̯͍̥̝͈͈̘͎̙̖͓̃̓͊̃͛ͣͫ́͊̅̎ͪ́̊ͪ̍̉̋̕͘Jͯ̅̉̿͏҉̸͈̳̻͜͠ͅK̄̊̓̊̆҉҉̡̖͔͙̝͙͢͟ͅB̶̧̘̖͉̯͖̝̤̼̼͖͖̟͎͇̏̿͗̀̿̋̽͑̒ͧ̋͛͒ͣͪ̎ͨ͜͠L͒̌͒ͭͯ̄͑̈̔ͪ̒ͤ́҉̢̢͓̙̫͈͔̼͍͚̝͕̣͔̠̰̕ ̣͚̬̖̜͖͇̣̩̠̪̯̥͓́̿͑͑̀͂̑́͝Ñ̵̬̞̩͙̰̥͔͍͍̥̫͉̒ͪͬ̏ͫ͞

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Shit, I didn’t know I could have mental breakdowns here. I must stop for now and do chaos or I may completely lose it.