Chapter 117, 1/2

Chapter 117, 1/2

Relaxed in his heavy black armor, Quilatalap stood in front of two dozen Shades, while an image of the Armory hung in the air behind him, looking like a land of black bubbles. He put a hand on some papers behind his podium, and began, “The Armory serves as the testing ground for petitioners to gain artifacts that will help them in their own particular parts of the world. The Clergy makes most of those artifacts, and shelters many more. Everyone here who wished to be informed when their items went out, has been, but now is the time for an unveiling of every item that has been won.

“To that end, we have this presentation.

“This is a display of strategic assets gone out into the world.

“It is a display of power by the Clergy, for the Clergy. This is a mixer for all involved, so that plots can be strung together after this presentation, if people so choose.

“So. Before we get into the meat of the matter: Anyone have any pressing desire to display their own artifacts and associated stories? There’s always at least one of you.”

Three hands went up in the audience.This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.

“Alright then.” Quilatalap flicked his eyes across the gathered Shades, and said, “Forin Leofield, Shade of Enlightenment. Stardust, Shade of the Edge. Toymaker, Shade of Diversion.” He shuffled some papers around on the podium, pulling three slips of paper out of the whole and moving them to the front. Erick never saw the papers before he started shuffling them. Quilatalap said, “There we go. We’ll do you three, soon enough. But first, some numbers.” Behind Quilatalap, the viewing screen shifted. Names and numbers appeared and then moved off to the side, as he spoke, “This year, like many others, the majority of petitioners came from these various lands, of which I will only separate from their continent if their country of origin has more than 10 million people. City States will only be listed in the case of a winner.

“The Greensoil Republic. 28 losing teams, 5 choosing to go on past the first death, 26 permanent deaths. 5 winning teams. 7 survivors, 21 deaths. An abnormally large ratio of winners to losers this year, and quite a lot of post-adventure murder and infighting. We’re going to see a lot of that, this year.

“The Wasteland Kingdoms. 35 losing teams, 15 choosing to continue, 97 permanent dead. There was but a single winning team. That team of twelve had been in there for two months, only passing their final Artifact Trial after Shadow’s Feast had already begun. They won. You all know what they won, but we’ll go over that later. There were ten of them alive at the time of their win, but four of them killed the other six after they won. Those four will be on the stage later.

“Assorted lands of Glaquin. 71 losing teams, 6 choosing to continue. 38 permanent deaths. 4 winning teams, 20 survivors, 3 deaths. Orcol team, orcol team, assorted Crystal Forest team, assorted Sovereign Cities team.

“Assorted lands of Nelboor. 190 losing teams, 42 choosing to continue. 218 permanent deaths. Not a single winner from Nelboor this year. Quite odd. They usually get at least one artifact, and some war always erupts over there because of it. Not this year.

“Eidolon, of Nergal. 1 winner. Not a team. A singular winner. A human girl of 17. Very odd, but very capable person, there.”

Small laughs murmured from the crowd of Shades, along with one soft, ‘Really?’ There was a response of ‘Oh yeah, it was—’ but Quilatalap glared at the offender, and the offender went silent.

Quilatalap calmly said, “No spoilers,” then went on, “Nergal, both archipelago and continental, 37 losing teams and 19 losing teams, respectively. 4 and zero willing to continue. 7 permanent dead. Zero winners.”

“Quintlan.” Quilatalap smiled. “3 winning teams, 15 survivors. No losers. No deaths.”

“What!” more than one person exclaimed.

“Favoritism!” someone called out.

“Blatant favoritism!” added another.

Quilatalap smiled, then faked a frown. “I can’t help it if they raise them better over there.” He spoke over all resulting rejoinders, saying, “Moving right along.

“Assorted islands and underwaters, including Oceanside, Stone Reef, Deadtide, and all of those. 29 losing teams, 19 continuing. 109 permanent deaths. Zero winning teams.

“Stratagold, Underworld. Zero losing teams. 4 winning teams. 19 survivors. 1 permanent death.

“Assorted Underworld. 289 losing teams. 4 choosing to continue. 21 permanent deaths. No winners.

“And that’s it for the Artifact Challengers of the Armory. Total teams: 715 teams, for a total of 3,672 people.

“As for the lesser numbers: We have the Easy, Medium, and Hard courses of the Armory Challenge. These stand at roughly 28,000 people, 11,000 people, and 6,000 people, respectively. Winning rates hold steady at 70%, 38%, and 7%. But no one cares about those deeper numbers, so there will be no total breakdown. For those who care: the average prizes won were 50-Stat items, or some Stat Fruits, which turned out to be really popular once they were available. Once they were available, they were chosen 95% of the time, for a total of almost 8000 Stat Fruits given out, with Intelligence coming out far and away more chosen than any of the other options. Roughly 60% of choices went for Intelligence, followed by Constitution for 20%, Dexterity for 15%, and Charisma for 5%.”

Quilatalap turned to the board, which listed everything behind him, and waved a hand, brushing away the numbers for the losing teams, leaving only the winners. Those winner-numbers reorganized to take up the whole screen.

Erick felt a profound sense of oddness. He, himself, had just killed a man. And now, here he was, listening to death-numbers like this was a board meeting and not a horror show. He wiped away some wet thing on his face as he pretended nothing was wrong.

Queen leaned over, whispering, “Are you okay?”

Quilatalap whipped his head toward Erick, his deep black eyes searching for problems.

Erick pulled himself together and said, “I’m fine.”

Queen sat back in her chair, shrugging.

Quilatalap nodded, slowly, then went back to the board, continuing, “A total of 18 artifact winning teams this year. 2.5% win-rate. That’s rather low compared to the Artifact Trial win-rate in previous years. My observations conclude this is due to a number of interrelated factors, including the Converter Angel and the Breach Demon, as well as the introduction of Particle Magic to the world, and the general smartening of the various Ancients around the world, due to the decrease in the generalized discombobulation of Melemizargo. For instance, this year's Unicorn Hunt over in the Sovereign Cities was particularly brutal, with the Ancient Unicorn there doing a lot more than in previous years. All that doesn’t even touch upon the existence of the Ballooning Spider Horde, though the death rates for that event was considerably lower than previous balloonings.

"Champion Yetta's successful incursion ended up enticing a lot of people to come to Kendrithyst who should never have come here.

“All of these factors acted in concert to cause people to search for ways out of those messes, and for a lot of them, it meant coming to Kendrithyst well before they were ready.

“But one happening stood out from all the rest.

“Candlepoint’s existence was frightening for a lot of nations out there, but once it was proven that Candlepoint was exactly what it said it was, that lesser experience with the Clergy gave a lot of adventurers the courage to try their hand at Kendrithyst.”

Erick felt his skin go cold.

Quilatalap continued, “I say now, with eyes open and time passed, that I feel there was not enough distancing from Kendrithyst and Candlepoint. The people who came from Candlepoint to here were NOT prepared for the true trials of Kendrithyst, and the Armory numbers show it. But even outside of the Armory, more than once, a team either wandered into the Swamp, or into the North River, or got stuck to the walls, or any other of fool places to be, where they then died to overwhelming power or vicious chance. I know some of you even saved those people, only for them to run away and into more danger, and get themselves killed.”

Far behind Erick someone spoke up, “They got what they deserved!”

A few agreements echoed around the pavilion.

Quilatalap continued, undaunted, “Whatever the case, Candlepoint is no longer under Clergy control. People will go there and then come here, expecting to walk through these ruby-purple halls and pick up treasure just sitting on the ground. They won’t expect to be tried for their deficiencies, and found wanting.”

Bulgan, standing on the edge of the pavilion, called out, “Not our problem! Complain about Candlepoint to Erick, if anyone.”

Erick felt his sight narrow, as his heart thumped hard.

“Now is not a time for discussion. Now is a time for facts and neutral perspective.” Quilatalap said, “That said, we continue:

“Many of the people who came to the Armory were reaching beyond their means in order to either save themselves or to prepare for the oncoming strife, or just because they thought they could. The Wasteland is firmly in the first category. Nelboor, in particular, is very guilty of the second. Many of the people this year fell somewhere in the third category, which we had much too much of.

“We’ve seen this before in other years of grand upheavals, and we’ll see it again.”

Erick felt like he was going to be sick.

“And now, for the artifacts and the winners.” Quilatalap continued, “Let us start with a contribution from Forin Leofield, Shade of Enlightenment.” Quilatalap gestured to the viewing screen behind him. A black book appeared. It had thick, metal covers, with white opal-like gems running up the binding. Some people in the crowd instantly boo’d.

Fallopolis turned around and muttered at the man, “Honestly.”

Leofield, an otherwise unremarkable human-looking man, just smiled wider.

The Librarian, who was near the back, said, “I like those!”

“You always like those Books of Knowledge,” said another.

Quilatalap’s voice broke over the crowd, “A Book of Knowledge. A common artifact, but one readily taken by many, since everyone knows that they are safe artifacts to hold and use. Leofield submits a Book of Knowledge every time the original is won, and there’s usually one won every other year.

“He also has other artifacts for winning, but those remain ensconced in the Armory, waiting for the right person to come along.

“Made with solid adamantine covers and with pages of the thinnest paper, the mostly-indestructible Book of Knowledge copies every nearby book within its pages. When the Book is not in this black, true form, it mimics the form of any book it has copied, and then hides in bookshelves, looking like a completely normal tome.

“When a user cuts themselves on the pages, they bind the book to them. Thereafter, when the user channels mana into the book, the book reveals its true form.

“In its true form, every book it has ever copied is shown on the pages.

“The Book of Knowledge is a multi-functional artifact with search, organizational, and other functionalities.” With a slight profundity, Quilatalap added, “And additional functions unlock when the user has a Greater Elemental Body.”

The bored crowd sat a bit straighter.

Leofield smiled wide, cheering for himself as he said, “That’s right!”

Fallopolis turned to the man, narrowing her eyes. And then the rest of the crowd, except Erick, all seemed to understand that something special had happened.

The Librarian, shocked, asked, “Finally?”

“Damn straight!” Leofield said, “Finally got it! Ask me later if you want one, ha ha!”

Quilatalap spoke over the crowd, “In the presence of a user with a Greater Elemental Body, the Book of Knowledge gains sentience, and is able to tailor the user’s reading experience to all such books that would best benefit them. It will help create a Domain. It will begin to highlight the various misinformations perpetuated by the Arcanaeum Consortium. It will eventually gain a small ability to move on its own, in the form of a [Spectral Butler].

“This year, the Book of Advanced Knowledge went to an orcol team from Wyrmrest. The book has been in the hands of an accomplished mage for six months. He was the leader of their team, and though he began with [Greater Stone Body], he has since added [Greater Water Body] to his skills, while not only joining the Cult of Melemizargo, but also rising in ranks from Follower to Leader. His team has experienced similar benefits.”

There were a few professional claps around the gathering, and a few excited claps. Leofield repeated his offer of Books of Knowledge for anyone who wanted one. Erick heard no takers, but he didn’t doubt there would be a few. The Librarian, for sure, wanted one.

Erick felt a little sick, again.

Quilatalap continued his presentation, “And now we have Stardust, Shade of the Edge, and her Void Star.”

Stardust was a female snake shifter who sat one table over from Erick. She was pale and bald, but tiny white scales ran up the sides of her neck, dappling her face and her head, while also running out of the sleeves of her loose, black dress. As her name was called out she sat taller, and smiled.

Quilatalap offhandedly gestured at the screen behind him. A dark glass orb appeared, with what looked to be an eclipse in the center. Quilatalap said, “I have been asked to say that Void Stars are extremely easy to make. Stardust has had a breakthrough on an old project, and can make one of these a day, if she wanted. They are true artifacts, too. They do not break with ten thousand uses.”

Stardust smiled wider. There were a few small, professional claps.

Quilatalap continued, “When at least 850 mana is channeled into the Void Star, one [Void Star] is produced. If not directed to a target, the [Void Star] will attempt to kill the user. But otherwise, these energetic, ethereal summons, will rapidly move to any target within sight, slipping through most intervening barriers, in an attempt to reach that target’s center. Upon reaching its destination, the [Void Star] detonates in a [Void Blast], of medium size. Simple. Effective.

“And the entire team that won it is already dead from misuse and infighting.”

Stardust paled.

Then the giggles began. Fallopolis began chuckling, then cackling. It wasn’t long before a few Shades were howling with laughter.

“You told me those people won eight months ago! How am I just hearing about this now?” Stardust sat straighter, attempting to speak over the laughter, “Were they fools?! Or was this treachery?!”

Quilatalap gestured to the screen behind him, and the four incani, saying, “And now, the item they won. You all know what it was, but let me refresh everyone’s memories.”

The screen shifted.

A four-pointed hunk of blackened metal appeared. It was a brooch, and Erick instinctively knew this artifact for what it was. His own pristine Silver Star pulsed cold on his chest, almost in confirmation. This was a Black Star, like the one Silverite had shown Erick, months ago. But this one was something deeper; something inscribed in the manasphere itself. Erick felt a tug on his heart as he gazed upon a piece of Peace, taken into the fires of war, and desecrated by the realities of life and death and ultimatums.

Quilatalap said, “The Black Star. This item is an ancient artifact created by a Paradox Wizard of the Old Cosmology, hundreds of thousands of years ago, when Koyabez was born out of the remnants of a God War and was just starting to gain power. At the time, Koyabez was a minor deity, and could not prevent this warping of himself.

“Because make no mistake, the Black Star is an item of violence. Of death. Of ending threats. Since then, there have often been arguments between the Black and the Silver houses of Koyabez, but they both survive to this day, for Koyabez has accepted this darker part of himself, along with this Black Star.

“The usual argument goes like this: In order to understand the Black House of Koyabez, you must understand that peace is only true when all sides play along, in true discourse, and true goals. Harmony and peace thrive when the problems are ones of operational concerns, and not ones of one side just waiting for the day that the other side lowers their guard, so that they can murder them all.

“When systems break down. When tyrants rise. These are the occasions where ending a threat is a more peaceful action in the long run, for in playing along with those who seek to undermine and destroy, for in allowing true harmony to falter and fall and to let the harmful dictators rise to the top, all you get is dystopia. All you get are people happily living in the dirt and muck, licking the shoes of those in power, never knowing what could have been.”

A Shade in the back called out, “Too bad you can’t use it against the Script!”

Another added, “I’d like to not live in the dirt, if you ask me,” to which a good dozen other Shades openly agreed, and another ten nodded along.

“What are their plans for the Converter Angel!” demanded a third.

Quilatalap looked at the offender, and said, “I am getting to that.”

Erick, meanwhile, experienced yet another moment of surrealism. His shoulders shook. He sat straight. His hands started to shake, in restrained anger, for how could these people not see that they were the ones in power? That they were the ones that needed to die? That—

Fallopolis loudly said, “They’ll never get it, Erick. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Small conversations ended, when Fallopolis spoke.

Erick countered, “Some of them have to understand. It’s just...” The gathering was silent. The Shades watched him, while Quilatalap gave every indication of just standing back, and letting whatever was going to happen, happen. Erick turned, and faced the crowd. He shot to his feet, declaring, “You all have all the power in this world! You are the rulers, according to all your actions, and from what I’ve heard already! If you don’t like your lot in life, then it’s your own damn fault. If you don’t—”

A male Shade stood up from their table. Incani, white skin, motley suit of various blacks. Erick recognized him as Gora, the Shade of the Arena. Killzone had warned Erick about this one, but Erick had been aware of this guy well before Killzone spoke of him. Erick recalled what he knew.

Back when Jane was helping Yetta through her trial to kill Planter, Jane had escaped from the final fight with an antirhine golem. She raced away from that confrontation with several people in her shadows, but a Shade named Porter had tormented her, causing her to drop the survivors. The victims of that arena died. But in a stroke of luck, based on time and place, Jane had reversed the dynamic between her and Porter, and gone on to kill that Shade.

But Porter was tight friends with Gora. Porter had often blipped offending adventuring teams into Gora’s arena, and now that Porter was gone, Gora’s Arena was falling out of favor with the other Shades, for the nightly shows with captured, harried adventurers were much harder to have without those easily captured victims.

At least the victims of the Armory chose to go in there.

Gora said, “You speak like someone who has only ever known the mud and muck. You truly have no idea what the gods and the Script keeps from us. Of what they’ve conned the people of this world into believing.” He said, “You are living in dirt, and you don’t even know it! Shut your mouth and learn from your betters.”

He got a few nods from the crowd, but most eyes were on Erick.

“Are you immortal?” Erick asked, knowing the answer already. “You’re not. All you’ve ever experienced was life on Veird. The only difference between you and I is one of perspective. You see trash all around you. I see opportunities to clean up, and build higher, and plant gardens, and make friends. You’ve been raised on stories of power, and then you have the gall to whine about not having enough. I’ve been raised on stories of perseverance, and—”

Tania stood. She said, “Heavy points, all around, but we can have debates another day. I will cut this short. Gora is correct. This world was built to cage magic and Melemizargo; that was the goal of the Script Builders, and they succeeded, robbing us of untold futures among the other worlds out there, and with our God. Erick is also correct. Every single person in existence can always do better. They can do more. They can achieve efficiency. They can achieve perspective and wisdom. Both of you are powerful. Both are going places. But only one of you is using your power to light the way forward. The other is apparently a Void.”

Gora’s bright eyes went wide. He glanced to the side, looking to flee, only to see Bulgan standing right there, a full head taller than the Arena master. Almost all the Shades in the audience were staring at Gora, as the man looked left and right.

Looks of glee erupted from the gathered Shades, as they turned to Gora, and smiled, their mouths full of fangs. None of them held this look quite as well as Fallopolis.

Gora’s shoulders slumped. “Fuck you, Tania.”

Tania proclaimed, “If any of you are unhappy with your existence! If any of you think that the trials are too tough! That the reward is not good enough! Then perhaps you shouldn’t exist anymore.” She snapped her fingers at Gora.

Gora became gore.

Fallopolis clapped loudly, as blood and mess pitter-pattered from the sky, like red rain.

Queen asked, “Erick? A [Cleanse] please?”

Tania turned to Queen. “You have servants for that.”

Some red thing flopped from the front of Erick’s now-red robes and landed on the ground with a slap.

Like he was suddenly in a dream and nothing felt real, Erick turned on his [Cleansing Aura]. He had several of his Ophiel, all around the gathering, do the same. Almost on autopilot, Erick turned back to his seat, and brushed away a bone fragment from his chair. That fragment vanished into thick air before it touched the ground. As he sat down his red outfit returned to pristine white. He spoke an apology to Quilatalap, but his words were lost in the absolute torrent of thick air that spilled out from the gathering, like a tornado.

The entire congregation of Shades experienced his [Cleansing Aura], and just like what had happened with Fallopolis that first time, each Shade became the headwaters of a tsunami of thick air.

An Ophiel Erick had sitting half a kilometer out, also caught the sight of that torrent. From that perspective, the occurrence made Erick think of a massive explosion, but without the fire. Windows shook in the passing of that thick air. A few windows broke. Nearby potted plants fell over, and then rolled away. Thick air usually had no physical form or feeling, but in these quantities, it did.

When the minor storm finally finished, Erick said to Quilatalap, “Apologies for the interruption.” He muttered, “What even is that thick air, anyway?”

Quilatalap said, “The thick air of [Cleanse] is a complicated topic, best left for another time. Now. Could we continue?”

Tania was already sitting. She magnanimously said, “Of course. Continue.”

Quilatalap nodded, then gestured back toward the screen behind them, where the Black Star was displayed. He said, “The Black Star was the last resort of the Peacekeepers. It has always been locked up behind heavy wards, and heavy restrictions, when not in use. Some of those restrictions are self-imposed; this is a semi-sentient divine artifact, after all.” He gestured to the four incani still standing on stage with him, saying, “Rexx, Idolizia, Caizoa, and Skorka, passed these restrictions, and gained the trust of the Black Star. Thus they have won the right to use the Black Star against the Converter Angel sent by unknowns of the Greensoil Republic.

“The Black Star requires a goal and a certain level of conviction in order to activate. Once those measures are met, the Black Star does many, many things for the wearer.

“As for the lesser functions, the Black Star automatically [Greater Teleport]s the user out of traps. It provides nourishment and a healthy body. It protects against disease, parasites, and all sorts of environmental harm. It provides immunity from all forms of mind, soul, or body control.

“Its larger function is to provide complete and total protection to the user, when the user is in pursuit of their goal.

“As the Black Star is very much a divine artifact of the Founding God of Veird, there are only two other greater gods on Veird that are capable of overcoming this protection: Rozeta and Melemizargo.”

There were some minor ‘booo’s from the crowd at the mention of Koyabez and Rozeta, while Melemizargo got several small prayers; it all inexplicably seemed like a game to Erick.

“The greater function is thus: When the user declares a goal in line with the goals of the Black Star, the Black Star will point the way to those who would harm all. There is no way to obscure this function, and it works through all known systems of obfuscation. Back in the Old Cosmology, this function worked five worlds away from any world touched by Koyabez, and would have only been slightly off in its guidance past that. Here, on Veird, this function is absolute.

“If the user is able to somehow, miraculously solve the problem that necessitated the use of the Black Star, without killing, then the Black Star does nothing. In such a case, the Black Star will usually choose to stay with the user. But in the usual event that the user intentionally causes a death, then depending on what the Black Star saw, it might stay with the user, or it might slay the user, and then [Greater Teleport] back to a Black Priest of Koyabez.

“All in all, it is an item of absolute self-protection, and a guiding star toward a chosen goal.” Quilatalap gestured to the captives, saying, “And now that you know the item, let’s hear their plans for this ancient artifact, from the winners themselves.”

The four incani on stage began to stir from their addled state. They blinked. They rolled their shoulders. Some sort of magic settled upon them, or rather, peeled back from their upper halves. Though they moved their legs, their booted feet came right back down on the stage, and their lower halves seemed to de-animate, just as much as their upper halves began to move.

One gasped, and then the other, as they looked out at the sea of white eyes staring back at them. The Cook schooled her face, while the others panicked, and then calmed. No one said a word.

And then the Cook looked to Erick. Skorka’s red eyes went wide, and then narrowed. “Fuck. He turned Shade.”

From two meters away, Bulgan laughed a single, “Ha!”

“Fuckin’ knew it!” exclaimed Rexx, the only man in the adventuring group.

Erick sighed, muttering, “Not a Shade.”

Fallopolis smirked as she suggested, “You should look into some cosmetic magic for those eyes of yours, or maybe just take the plunge and actually join us.”

And then there was quite a lot of bickering on stage, though none of the adventurers were able to do more than that. Erick, and the Shades, watched on, some smiling at the hatred on display, some looking a little bored.

And then Skorka brought their yelling back to Erick. “What the FUCK are you doing here with them?”

Erick asked, “What’s your plan for killing the Converter Angel? I’m already obligated to help with that, so maybe that means I’m obligated to help you.”

Skorka shut up, her mouth closing with an audible click of her teeth. The other three looked to her for guidance. No one said another word.

A Shade spoke up, “So what’s their plan? I want to hear it so I can watch it all happen!”

Another added, “They don’t seem that fractured to me.”

Quilatalap said, “They killed their opposition, so, yes, they’re not that fractured anymore.”

A bored Shade said, “I expected more than this. Why’d they go silent?”

“Operational security,” Quilatalap said. “They never spoke in full and complete terms in their journey through the Artifact Course.”

“I want to know why their trial took two months,” Tania casually demanded.

“Can we all just move on?” Fallopolis said. “They were obviously taking their time in there. It’s boring, but it does happen.”

“Yes we can!” Quilatalap readily took the offered out by waving his hand at the four adventurers, returning them to their zombie-like selves. He banished the floating image behind him, then picked up his papers, and said, “That concludes this year’s Armory presentation. See you all next year—”

“No.” Tania said, “These people are connected to Erick. I need answers. What are you going to do with those four?”

“Storage, till after the Feast is over. Then I’ll loose them outside of Kendrithyst.”

“Nonsense. It does them credit that they kept their heads despite facing three dozen of the Clergy. Not a lot of credit, but some. I want them at the party, after the Second Telling, tomorrow.” Tania said, “I want to see how they deal with Erick in a less confrontational setting. Also. Have you given them the Black Star yet?”

“No.” Quilatalap said, “As laid down by the precepts of the Black Order, the plan was to temporarily block their memories of everything beyond the Converter Angel, give the Star to them, and release them out into the Crystal Forest, all at the same time. After the Feast.”

Tania gave a sly smile. “We’ll talk.”

Quilatalap frowned at Tania. Then he put on a neutral face, and turned to everyone else, declaring, “The Armory Presentation is over. Thanks for coming. Queen has opted to provide refreshments—”

Queen gestured to butlers waiting off to the side. They began moving. A door opened, and carts with covered trays began rolling out toward the Shades.

“—so you may now begin further plans for artifacts like the Breaking Die, the Void Star, the Mini Box, and others.”

Erick got the fuck out of there.