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Your heart beats like a drum. It is all you hear. The sound bleeds into your thoughts until it is all you can think of.
It is a reminder that your light hasn’t been snuffed out, that you are alive, that you can breathe, that you can feel and continue feeling until the very sense is rubbed off into the infinite shade beyond you.
You don’t know where you are.
You don’t know where to go.
Your feet move automatically, propelled to move towards an objective marred by a lack of clarity.
Is there somewhere to be? Somewhere to go?
If you walk, will you find it?
And is the future it holds any more desirable than the present?
Clover breathes frantically as they run around a corner, stopping just behind a decrepit wall in disrepair.
It’s missing pieces of itself, with only barely enough cover to conceal their presence, cowboy hat and all.
They’re hidden now. Partially, anyway.
But…
Is it even worth the effort, trying to hide like this?
All the corridors look the same. They feel the same.
They are the same.
Clover’s certain that they could walk in the same direction for an hour and still be no further away from danger than before.
But in this place, pure instinct is a driving force like no other.
They’re scared. So, so scared.
Then they pale and clamp a hand over their mouth, trying to stifle their breathing.
Footsteps.
Slow, deliberate, purposeful footsteps.
Not even a minute after running away, and they’ve already been found again.
The footsteps stop just around the corner.
Clover shakes, all senses numb to the overwhelming sensation of fear, causing their very form to shake and tremble uncontrollably.
Their breathing is stifled, but around the corner, they can still hear it.
He’s breathing , but barely. He’s agile and nothing ever escapes his notice, and yet his breaths are long and shaky, like merely the act of taking in air is putting its inner strength to the test.
He almost sounded frail. Maybe, in a way, he was frail.
But Clover knew better.
They edged along the wall, keeping their movements as slight as possible and putting their feet on the floor as carefully as they could manage.
If they made even the slightest sound…
They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. They could avoid what was coming.
They’d been through this kind of hell enough times.
If they could just…
Clover felt their foot nudge against a tiny pebble, which rolled the barest amount of inches over in response.
A hissing shriek pierces their ears.
Something dives around the corner.
Clover looked up just in time to see sharp fangs bearing down upon them.
They couldn’t stop a bloodcurdling scream from escaping their throat as they pressed back against the wall, raising their arms to push away the-
Your heart stops. Your pulse goes dead.
But within seconds, shadowy tendrils snake in from the darkness and slide around and over the outer shell of your tender soul.
They tighten their grip, securing a firm hold.
A forceful jolt rocks your soul.
Your heart starts again.
In this plane of reality, you can’t die. Not permanently.
He won’t let you.
It’s cold.
So cold.
Clover knows they have frostbite.
The pain is enough to clue them in.
Yet they struggle onwards, through the snowy forest.
A blizzard consumes Clover’s surroundings. Piercing wind and rock-hard hail shoot past them. They have to keep their hat angled downwards to protect themselves.
The hail slams into their hat, and it hurts. But it protects them, if only a little bit.
All they can do is press on.
There’s no way of telling if they’re getting anywhere.
The snowy forest engulfed in the midst of the blizzard never seems to stay the same.
Sometimes the trees are so densely packed together that Clover has to squeeze around them, catching their sleeves on branches and having to tug them free.
Other times a clearing so wide opens up that Clover can’t immediately see more trees through the gray fogginess of the turbulent weather. Only once they power forwards do they find any traces of more trees.
The trees themselves are hardly weathering the storm. Most have so much snow piled onto their leaves that no greenery is visible. The weaker trees resemble nothing more than disjointed pieces of bark sticking in all directions.
But Clover presses on.
They can’t slow down.
Slowing down means-
…
… there it is again.
It doesn’t matter that the blizzard is roaring so loudly that all other sounds should be rendered indistinguishable.
None of it can drown out the sounds of sobbing.
Clover feels a tug on their heart as they hear what they can only describe as a meltdown somewhere several yards behind them. She’s gasping for breath amidst her tears, heaving and sobbing constantly, barely able to do much else but moan in utter despair.
All it is a woebegone cacophony of unceasing anguish, one that starts and stops and starts again as she draws nearer to Clover.
It’s a warning. A warning of what will come if they don’t quicken their pace.
Clover ignores their heart telling them to stop and comfort her.
They can’t.
The first few times they weathered this storm, that was what they did.
And, well…
…they wish they could forget what happened.
So they trudge onwards, forcing their feet through the snow with ever-increasing force, forcing themselves further through the endless forest as the despairing noises behind them draw further and further away.
And then the noises stop.
Were they swallowed up by the blizzard, or did she stop on her own?
Either way, it’s a sign that they’re getting further away.
Not that it mattered much.
Whether she was close or near, Clover only knew that they would just have to keep moving, despite the fact that there was no end in-
“... Clover…”
Clover stopped. As it was if they froze, as if the roaring blizzard had finally made their entire body go numb.
No. It couldn’t be.
Letting go of a breath they didn’t know they had been holding, Clover’s voice broke through.
“...No…” A single murmur was all that escaped.
His voice was broken, worn down, nothing like it had been before. It was hoarse from screaming, hoarse from sobbing, worn out from a lack of proper usage.
The whisper carried through the storm again.
“ Clo…ver…”
Clover shook their head. It wasn’t possible.
And yet…
“...Martlet?”
A reply echoed through the fog and into their eardrums.
“Clover…?”
Before Clover knew it, tears were cascading down their cheeks.
It was cold, so cold, cold enough that maybe their tears would freeze before they could hit the ground.
But they flowed freely as Clover struggled through the snow, towards where they could hear Martlet’s voice.
It wasn’t true. But… it might be.
Was Martlet really here?
Would they finally have someone to protect them, a guardian to aid them in persevering through this neverending cycle?
“Martlet! MARTLET!” Clover cried through the storm, raising their voice as high as it could go. It was a wonder how they could do it after how hoarse it felt.
Silence.
And then, a reply!
“ Clover! ”
From nowhere, or from somewhere, she emerged from the fog.
She was shielding her face with her wings, her hair speckled with snow, her boots wet from what must have been hours of walking through the snowdrift.
She was there. She was here.
“You’re here! Y-You’re actually here… !” Their voice trembled and shook as they beheld what seemed like the companionship they had been searching for for so very long. “How did you…?”
“ I’ve been… looking for you… Clover.”
Clover’s blood went cold.
Wait.
No. No, no, no, no no no no no no.
How could they have fallen for this? How could they have forgotten where they were?
They tried to take a step back.
They gasped.
Ice had grown over their feet. They were stuck to the ground.
They screamed and pulled as hard as they could, but it was no use.
They looked up in disbelief and crippling fear as Martlet slowly moved her wings away from her face.
No. That was wrong.
There was no face.
No bright, eager eyes. No silly yet kind smile.
Only a gaping hole.
Only a single, solitary eye, nestled inside that tiny little hole.
“And now I will NEVER let you go.”
The eye retreats. There’s a flash as a tiny thing flies out of the gaping hole left behind, beak raised as it soars straight at Clover’s ey-
Who.
What.
Where.
When.
Why.
Stay connected. Stay determined. Stay just.
You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone.
But perhaps you are.
You can’t tell.
You can’t see.
Your eyes are gone.
You are blind to the truth.
Perhaps you always have been.
One thing is for certain, however.
You should have known this was coming.
You didn’t see it until it was too late.
It was here now.
It was agony. Pain. Torture. Suffering.
And it was poetic.
Where there is blindness, there is the heart of one following the path of righteousness.
Where there is blindness, there is the heart of a just human.
Clover didn’t think their nose would hold out under the strain.
There were so many aromas around them.
So many scents, wafting through the air, from every single direction.
The purest flowers tried to tempt them with a calming aroma.
The most pungent, cruelest blooms emit stench after stench, all of them so foul that they wished they never had a sense of smell.
It was beautiful and hideous, calming and disruptive, pleasant and horrid.
But a combination of the desirable and undesirable did not cancel things out.
It did not result in neutrality.
It only made Clover want to vomit.
So they pinched their nose as they shuffled past the flowers. Which were growing everywhere.
The Oasis was overrun with plant life. Buildings were damaged, decrepit, and wrapped in the grasp of vines and stems belonging to all sorts of flowers in varying states of health.
Meanwhile, the existing life there was completely annihilated by comparison- the palm trees were either cut in two, leaving empty stumps behind, or rotted through and drooping almost low enough to touch the ground. The lake that had been there had dried out, leaving an empty patch of damp sand. Even the cacti had dried out and died.
The place was ruined and, except for the flowers, completely lifeless. Clover had not seen a single other monster around town as they made their way through.
Though, perhaps it was better that way.
The hallway that led out of the Oasis was in the worst state of all. The holes in the walls serving as windows busted open into gaping gashes. Pillars toppled into pieces of battered brick. The red carpet was filthy and covered in cuts and holes. Even the bright wooden floor was ruined, the planks still being eaten away by rot.
But Clover passed through, trying their best to ignore the damage. They had to keep going.
If they could just get to the Steamworks, then maybe…
…but wouldn’t that place be even worse than out here?
By all accounts, it probably would be.
Still, any forward progress was better than none at all.
Being a sitting duck was never a good idea out here.
So they made their way onwards. Past the battered remnants of the fences, past the destroyed and dried-out wishing well, past the oak carriage lying in pieces on the dark sand.
And finally, they made it to the Wild East.
Clover was expecting the town to be just as leveled as the Oasis was, so they were surprised to see that the buildings were still intact, and no overgrowth had consumed the landscape.
But even still… something was wrong.
The wind had picked out of nowhere, right as they began to enter the town.
There were particles of dust floating on the wind.
Clover didn’t want to find out who they belonged to.
But as Clover approached, they came to a sudden stop.
What were they doing, strolling into the middle of the Wild East like it was a perfectly normal day and everything was right with the world?
Had they not learned anything?
They knew what was waiting for them ahead. Anything could be hiding around the corners of buildings or behind barrels… anything.
So Clover dived behind the nearest hay bale to their position and crouched down, breathing hard as their nerves spiked again.
Not a moment too soon, either, for they could hear the sounds of stomping up ahead.
Heavy footfalls sounded through the area as, right near the town ball, something made its appearance.
Ed.
He was unrecognizable. Where there was once a small head set upon his round body, there was nothing but a large hole torn where his neck should be, as if someone had punctured a plastic ball. Despite his lack of a head, the rest of his body seemed to be functioning just fine- even if his skin was a darker shade of pink than ever before.
And then, coming out from behind…
Moray and Ace. They were there too. And similarly unrecognizable.
Moray’s entire body had been overgrown with vines and flowers, which snaked around their arms and legs and even cut through their skin. But not just that. Their entire body was melting, their arms and boots dripping away. They no longer had a face, only a dark shadow out of which peered two bright white eyes, which stared unblinkingly ahead.
Despite the melting, they maintained a tight grip on their rapier… which no longer even resembled a rapier. It looked more like a vine, which curved slightly at the end and formed a bright golden flower at the tip.
Ace was somehow even worse. His tuxedo and hat were battered and torn like he had been attacked, to the extent that he even had a large hole in his chest, deep enough that Clover could see out the other side. Like Moray, he was melting away, his sleeves and gloves exuding into goo. Most of the sludge was coming out of the hole in his chest, and it never seemed to stop leaking out.
But worst of all was his face. The single, sharp eye that always glared between his hat and scarf was gone. Now, there was only a set of jagged, disjointed teeth, curved into a broken, sinister grin that never went away.
A shiver ran down Clover’s spine, the terror of the sight before them nearly locking them in place.
All of this was just so wrong.
When would it end?
They kept themselves hidden behind the hay bale, even taking off their hat out of fear that it would stick out from behind the bale and expose their hiding spot.
The twisted monsters that resembled Ed, Moray, and Ace had fanned out from where they had been standing, their broken faces and Ed’s lack of a face turning in all directions.
Ed stomped around, his fists clenching hard and vibrating as if he was ready and waiting to throw a punch. Gruesome veins bulged on his bulky arms.
Moray’s rapier dragged against the ground, tracing a line in the sand as they silently swiveled around.
Ace, much like the horrid image of Dalv, was letting out ragged breaths. His grinning mouth opened and closed slightly as he inhaled and exhaled, his hands constantly shaking and readjusting their grip on his half-melted playing cards.
Clover lowered themselves closer to the ground as they realized what was going on.
The three monsters were looking for them.
They knew Clover was there. They just didn’t know where .
Peeking their head past the hay bale, they tried to look for more hiding spots further ahead.
But there were none. Past the town’s entrance was nothing but spacious, exposed paths.
If Clover went out there, they’d be seen for sure.
They didn’t know if they could outrun Ed or Ace, but they definitely couldn’t outrun Moray. Not with those long legs of theirs.
So they tried to think of a plan.
An idea came to mind.
No… they couldn’t try that, could they?
It was risky to try that.
…
…but when did their gun help them through any of this, anyways?
It had no bullets inside, and it’s not like they could whack the monsters with it.
Whenever they got close enough to try, the curtains closed on them.
So if that didn’t work…
…well, then this would have to be the only way it could see use.
Turning to the side, Clover yanked their revolver out of their pocket, aimed at the window of a building across from them, and threw it with all their might.
The weapon sailed through the air and slammed into the window, violently shattering it and sending shards of glass spraying onto the sand.
The clamorous noise of glass being broken immediately had its intended effect.
All three monsters turned their heads so fast that they would have snapped their necks if they were normal monsters.
Despite his lack of a head, something akin to a rumbling roar echoed from within the hole in Ed’s neck, and he made like a rhino and charged directly towards the building where the noise had come from.
Moray quickly caught up with Ed, weapon now raised in preparation for attack. Ace trailed behind, not nearly as fast but still rapidly approaching the source of the commotion.
Clover could even catch a sinister chuckle emanating from Ace’s grinning maw.
Ignoring the shudder of discomfort and unease coming from within, Clover squeezed past the hay bale and hopped the nearby fence, breaking into a run towards the eastern end of town.
They had barely begun to sprint in that direction, however, before a guttural cry of alarm disturbed their ears.
They knew immediately that something had spotted them.
Clover was unable to stop a small gasp of panic from escaping their throat as they quickly whipped around, trying to find cover yet again.
They needed to find cover. There was no guarantee they would make it if they tried to outrun whatever had seen them.
Immediately, the pile of sandbags near the shooting range caught their eye.
…But it was too small, they would never be able to keep themselves entirely concealed behind it.
…There! Behind Blackjack’s shop! There was a small alley behind there they could hide in.
They dived for it, leaping over the countertop of the wooden barriers and throwing themselves onto the ground just behind the walls of the shop.
They stopped, taking a second to catch their breath. With one hand still clutching their hat, they took the tiniest peek from around the corner.
Dina.
She had come out from within the nearby barn and skidded to a stop on the path, her head rapidly shifting from direction to direction as she tried to spot whatever it was that had alerted her.
Clover could only assume she had heard the sound of shattering glass, too, or had otherwise heard their footfalls against the sand.
She turned herself slightly, and Clover once again felt goosebumps erupt over them as they saw how hideous she had become.
Her body was glitching in and out rapidly. Her clothes were frayed all over, her pant legs torn in places and her boots covered in filth. Vines had encircled her arms and were holding them as if keeping the joints in place. Her hair was singed as if she had escaped from a wildfire. Half of her face was a dark shadow, the other half was nothing but an empty dark void where her other eye should have been.
Clover almost couldn’t bear the sight of the circle of thorns that had grown around her neck, poking deep into her skin and leaving painful, dusty gashes. Out of the circle of thorns extended Dina’s three snakes with names Clover couldn’t remember. Their pupils had rolled back into their eyes, and each had a vine wrapped around their bodies which ended at their necks, forming something that resembled a makeshift collar and leash.
The snakes hissed and writhed within their vine leashes as they snapped to and fro for whoever had disturbed them.
Dina, meanwhile, slowly shambled past the shooting range. She seemed to have decided to look in the direction of the town’s eastern exit, as she ignored the shop completely and continued off in that same direction.
Clover ducked back behind the back alleyway of the shop, panic entering back into their mind again.
This wasn’t good. If Dina was going to be wandering around the exit, how were they going to make it out of here and get to the Steamworks?
Were they just going to have to bide their time behind the shop until Dina came back from wandering near the exit?
…But how long would that even take them?
Time was of the essence. Nowhere in this world was truly safe.
They had to hurry, they needed to hurry. At any moment anything could find them and then they would be-
“HRK!”
Clover stiffened and let out a gasp as their bandanna suddenly tightened around their neck, beginning to squeeze their windpipe. They desperately scrabbled and pried at the tightening cloth with their fingernails, trying to get it off.
What was happening?! Was their own clothing betraying them, too?! Or…
A tiny giggle rang out from behind Clover. In the midst of their struggle for air, they jerked their neck around.
Mooch.
She was almost unrecognizable, her entire body having been overtaken by roots, stems, and dingy gray flowers. Her complexion was obscured, covered up by one huge flower that had sprouted over her face and wrapped its roots around her head to keep itself in place.
She had grabbed Clover’s bandanna from behind and had gotten a tight grasp on it, yanking it back to deprive Clover of oxygen.
The distorted sounds of gleeful snickering emanated from her, almost completely muffled by the flower over her face.
“Got you.”
Clover thrashed and fought as Ed pinned their arms behind their back, refusing to loosen his grip.
“No! No! Please! PLEASE!” They begged, but it was no use.
In the midst of a crowd of distorted townsfolk and the Feisty Five members, a sandstorm kicked up and obscured Clover’s vision.
When it died down, two figures stood a yard away from the hatted human.
Ceroba. Her face, too, had melted away, leaving only a gaping hole behind. Her hair was a mess, sticking out in all directions and petals half-hidden within it. Her kimono was just as frayed and ripped as the clothes of many other monsters.
She was holding her staff at her side, a staff so melted that Clover was surprised it was still solid enough for her to hold.
Starlo. Vines and roots had exploded out of his head, poking out in all directions and almost completely engulfing his features. A flower had sprouted on his hat. His hands and fingers were stretched out so far that they almost scraped the sand.
The distorted sheriff began to stride towards Clover, leaving Ceroba to stand there and affix Clover with an empty gaze that never wavered.
Once he had gotten close enough, Starlo came to a stop. His left hand shifted upwards and into his holster and tugged. A vine-wrapped wild revolver came out, ripping itself free from the plant growth that had gotten it stuck to the inside of the holster.
The joints of Starlo’s fingers snapped as his fingers curled themselves together to form a tight grip around the firearm.
One finger curled itself around the trigger.
Clover was a sobbing wreck by this point. They fought and squirmed and thrashed harder still. Ed’s grip reformed, and his hands melted around Clover’s… until it formed into a block of pink flesh that felt more like cement, entombing Clover’s fingers and arms.
“N-No… p-please… I d-don’t want to…” They whimpered.
But it was no use.
It was just no use.
Their heart stopped for a moment as they felt something clunk against their forehead.
They were paralyzed with fear, yet retained enough control for their head to slowly lift itself back up to face what was coming.
The barrel of Starlo’s gun pressed itself against their skull.
A quiet moment passed as Starlo’s overgrown head tilted itself slightly, like a child who was curious to see what would happen if he kept going.
Clover stared back at Starlo. The sheriff had no visible eyes to stare into, but Clover couldn’t help the tears cascading down their cheeks as they looked on at the vine mask blocking out Starlo’s face. They just stared ahead, the look in their eyes begging for one unlikely impulse of mercy.
“ P-Please... ”
An impulse of mercy they already knew wouldn’t come.
Starlo’s finger slammed itself against the trigger of his revolver, and-
BANG!
A hole. A hole.
A hole in your soul.
Boring deep.
Cutting deeper.
Tunneled in since the beginning of this long road.
One watches, one waits. One lingers and observes.
And in the end, one pulls the plug when it all comes to naught.
It isn’t fair.
It never has been.
But it is too much to expect one to care.
You are a means to an end.
A means to completion, to the absolute, to finality.
And along the way, you are pulled along, yanked on a string.
Walking ahead, at the whims of the clock’s hands.
You are the tool.
The piece needed for completion.
But if the hands of time can repair the tool, who needs to care if the tool is broken?
One is free to thrash the tool around, bend the tool until it breaks, push the tool to the absolute limits of its capabilities.
If the tool shatters, if it snaps, if it gives way…
…well, what is there to fear, really?
Two hands of a single clock wind back, back, back...
And it begins anew.
All of this, happening time and time again…
…shall lead to the fated conclusion.
Your fated conclusion.
And until that day comes…
…you will stare down the barrel of fate’s firearm.
Helpless to resist, helpless to flee, helpless to persist, helpless to be free.
This is how it has been.
How much longer will it continue to be?
This isn’t supposed to last forever.
This pain…
It was never meant to be eternal.
But it may be for you.
For you have a hole in your soul.
And while it remains, there is no way to be whole.
The rafters echoed with the sounds of shoes against metal as Clover sprinted across the upper portions of the Steamworks, moving as fast as they possibly could.
Already, without any time to prepare themselves, they were thrust into the midst of danger.
And who else would it be but Axis?
“ TE_RM_IN_ATE. TE_RM_IN_ATE.” The rolling machine echoed as it rolled along the rafters, steadily gaining on Clover. An orb of pink energy coalesced above him, yet another energy ball already charging up.
Axis was as decrepit and wrecked as everything else in this world. A hole had been blown clean through his head, exposing the cut wiring and dislocated machinery underneath. Another gash had blasted off the heart emblazoned on his chest, leaving the whole inner compartment opened and void of substance.
His arm sockets emit no steam, and he had no hands floating at his sides, primed and ready to throw energy blasts at intruders… but apparently, this Axis didn’t need hands this time.
Pink balls of energy readily gathered together and formed just above his head, with sharp vines curling around the glowing spheres to increase the pain.
That is, whenever Clover was ever hit by one. They couldn’t let that happen.
Not again.
So they ran for dear life, and they turned a corner off of the rafters just in time to avoid another one of Axis’ vibrating projectiles, which exploded off in the vast darkness of the facility, its power damaging the already-damaged building instead of its intended target.
They dashed into the greenhouse. The calm white light the place was usually cloaked in had been replaced by a blood red glow, which destroyed any semblance of peacefulness the old greenhouse had once managed to attain.
Somehow, the place was even more overgrown than before- only this time, small clumps of golden flowers were there, sprouting alongside the already out of control population of white flowers that lived there. At least, Clover thought the flowers were golden. It was a bit hard to tell, due to how red everything was.
They couldn’t deny that they were half-hoping that the abundance of plant growth on the floor would slow down Axis significantly, considering his only means of mobility was a single wheel.
At the same time, though, they didn’t dare look back to see if their plan had worked. If it hadn’t, then they couldn’t spare a single second of not running.
So they kept going and going, even though their legs were aching, begging them to rest. They dodged past the broken robots still scattered all over the greenhouse floor.
Were there… more of them now?
Soon they had gotten to the long metal path towards the greenhouse’s exit. This time, the patches of white grass with the strange white flowers blooming atop them was much more apparent to them.
They knew what would happen if they touched those flowers, even the slightest amount.
So, without any time to waste, they made a leap over the first flower patch, and then another leap right over the second, and continued running.
SNAP!
Only for them to stop dead in their tracks at a loud snapping sound, their eyes wide in horror as they saw what exactly had snapped right in front of them.
A single white flower on the next patch just up ahead bent unnaturally, without any warning. Its stem snapped in two, and the white flower fell lifelessly to the ground, its lifeline broken.
“N-No!” Clover gasped.
The sounds of snapping picked up again. Suddenly, every white flower on every patch of that walkway was either being snapped in two or withering into small piles of ashes. This continued on, until all of the carefully grown flowers there were entirely lifeless.
It was too late.
SLAM!
There was a vibrating slam of metal as the last patch shot upwards, the towering form of a familiar mechanical protector extending out from within the floor in less than a second.
“UNACCE11PTABL_E ERR:OR DET-TEC-TECTED. FLO-R_A DIS RUP-TI-ON IDEN-TI-FIED. ST;ATUS - DEC-EAS_ED.”
The indomitable Guardener raised her long arms out of her hiding place, slamming them both onto the floor with more force than ever before. She lifted herself out of the hole, stretching up to full height.
Not only was her environment overgrown, but now the machine herself was overgrown. Flowers wrapped around her arms and torso like parasites leeching off of her. The deltarune on her chest had been scratched off, her face had seemingly been eaten away by the parasitic blooms… even the flowers atop her head had seemed to have minds of their own. All three now had dark, empty eyes, which leered down at Clover as Guardener towered over them.
“OFF-EN[SE LE-EVEL: UNFO$GIV&ABLE. RE-Q-QU1RED PUN-!SHMEN_T: IM*MEDIATE TERMIN_A_TION.”
Clover backed away, terrified of what they knew was about to come now that Guardener had her sights on them. They needed to run, and fast, before Guardener could-
“END O-OF THE L-LINE, IN_TERLOPER.”
They whipped around. Axis had caught up, having barely been slowed down by the grassy floor.
Clover was surrounded.
No escape.
There was never, ever a chance of escape once they had been found.
But they still had to try and get out of there! They needed to-
And yet it was hopeless. Immediately, Guardener thrusted one of her giant hands forwards, and vines and roots burst from her fingertips and wrapped around Clover, binding their arms against their body. Then, as soon as she got a hold, she yanked forwards.
Clover’s hat came flying off their head, but this time they didn’t scream. They knew what was coming; they could only hope it would be less painless than before.
They reached Guardener, who palmed them briefly in her hand before veering to her right and thrusting the arm out. Clover couldn’t help but shout in pain as Guardener slammed them up against the wall, pinning them against the scratched, battered wall of the greenhouse.
It was just like Ed’s grip: Too tight to escape from.
Axis approached, his wheel squeaking along the ground, with more energy already coalescing above him. The room’s red glow started to be interrupted by the pink light steadily gathering above the battered machine.
“Y-YOU HAD A GOOD RUN, H-ATTED HUMAN. IF T_HERE IS ONE THING YOU ARE GOOD AT, IT IS FLEEING LIKE A C_OWARD.” Axis’s voice was toneless, but there was no mistaking the mocking words he was throwing at Clover for anything else. “B-BUT YES. YOU HAD A GOOD R-RUN.”
As Axis approached, the gaping hole in his head and in his torso both started to glow, pink energy beginning to light up his fractured form for one final blast.
One pulsating, vibrating sphere of energy finished forming above Axis’ head. It throbbed in place for a second, shaking as it waited to be sent at its target.
Clover shut their eyes tightly, bracing themselves for what was coming.
“TOO BAD I WON’T MISS IT.”
There was an incredible flash of light behind their eyelids, and Clover’s world exploded into pain.
You’re scared.
You might be alone.
You might not be alone.
You’re not sure which is worse.
You want to cry.
You want to scream and sob and beg for comfort.
But you can’t.
You don’t have eyes.
You don’t have a mouth.
And your soul?
Your soul no longer belongs to just you.
There is a hole in your soul.
And out of it, pokes vines of power and control.
Constrict, tear, shake, and pull…
Until the sawblade’s edge goes dull.
Clover couldn’t take this anymore. Even now, as they wandered aimlessly through the dark abyss they were trapped in, they couldn’t stop the tears.
They knew who was watching them.
For a moment, they considered pleading. Begging for mercy. Promising him they would do whatever he wanted them to do.
Maybe then, it would finally end.
But every time they even considered the option… they remembered.
They remembered the smiling faces of their friends. They remembered Dalv patiently and kindly showing them his latest drawing. They remembered the feeling of Martlet’s feathers as she wrapped them in a hug. They remembered the pride flowing through both them and Starlo as they made identical poses. They remembered Axis, oddly silent as Clover patted him on the head and gave him the first affection he had felt in forever.
They remembered Ceroba, apologizing for all that she had done. They remembered the hug they gave her, and the promise they had in their heart to give her a chance to set things right.
They remembered their vest getting wet as tears hit them while they gave as tight of a hug as they could.
They remembered a single flower growing in the Dunes, yet to bloom, yet also a promise of new life on the horizon to come.
They would never give up.
“Y-You… you’ll never… break me.”
Their lone voice of dissent echoed through the darkness.
It took a few moments before they heard snickering in response.
The snickering turned to chuckling. The chuckling turned to laughter. The laughter exploded out and consumed the sound of the void.
“Oh, Clover…”
A face bloomed out of the darkness. The first thing Clover was a smile, deceptively calm, but failing to hold back the anger within, the fury coursing through him that Clover knew was there.
“YOU JUST DON’T KNOW WHEN TO QUIT.”
Flowey loomed over them, in that same grayish, otherworldly form he always took whenever he wasn’t taunting Clover from the shadows or partaking in the torture the twisted monsters kept putting Clover through.
He was shaking with abject fury, his grin not a sign of enjoyment, but of hatred and insanity.
“WELL THEN, CLOVER… IT’S NO BIG DEAL, IS IT? MAYBE I JUST NEED TO HAVE THAT VAMPIRE DEVOUR YOU A FEW MORE TIMES… OR WE CAN SEE HOW MANY BULLETS THAT SHERIFF CAN FIRE INTO YOUR FRAGILE BODY BEFORE IT BREAKS… OR MAYBE YOU WANT TO SEE THAT BELOVED BLUEBIRD AGAIN SO YOU CAN WATCH AS SHE DISMEMBERS YOU…”
Flowey loomed closer and closer as he contemplated his next move.
“DECISIONS, DECISIONS…”
Clover glared up at Flowey with just as much fury coursing through their soul as Flowey had coursing through his own body. So that was it? Flowey was just going to keep going? How longer would Flowey guide them through these twisted games? How much longer would Flowey be willing to put them through this… this torture, that they could never erase from their mind?
Why wouldn’t he just face them on their own terms, and stop resorting to the same methods of physical and psychological damage he always used?
Before Clover knew it, they were screaming again.
“ HEY! ”
They were shouting with all of their might, and so loud were they shouting that their voice caused a tremendous echo to erupt through the darkness. “Stop hiding behind those horrible puppets of my friends, and… AND FACE ME FAIR AND SQUARE! If y-you’re… if y-you’re just going to keep dragging this on… THEN DO THE DIRTY WORK YOURSELF, WHY DON’T YOU?!”
Clover took a step forwards, anger still fueling their resolve.
“ COME ON! ” Clover bellowed, another tremendous echo coming from their statement. “I can take it! I’ll keep taking it until you finally let this go! So go on! Do your worst, as long as you do it YOURSELF!”
A ringing pause settled between the tormentor and the tormented, with Clover waiting breathlessly, split between frustration and fear, as they tried to predict how Flowey would respond. Would he kill them out of annoyance for their outburst? Laugh it off and continue on as normal? Throw some snide remark about how they were an idiot before ripping them to-
“Weeellll then, Clover… you sure do drive a hard bargain.”
Not only had Flowey’s voice gone back to its usual tone and not the deep, reverberating voice his twisted form normally gave off… but his face had morphed itself to match how it looked when he was normal. He was giving Clover a cheeky ‘are-you-serious’ grin, yet seeming to be conceding to their demand at the same time.
“Fine, then. I’ve bent your brittle ‘lil body out of shape so many times I’ve lost count. Why not shake up this monotonous torture just a teeny bit, right?” Flowey was snickering as if it was a ridiculous idea, yet he didn’t seem to be sarcastic in his notions. “Here… let’s do it… Y O U R W A Y .”
A much smaller vine snaked its way out of Flowey, holding something small and metallic in its grasp. It tossed the object out of its hold, and Clover stepped back as a wild revolver clattered to the ground in front of them.
Their wild revolver. With the same tiny yellow stripes Starlo had painted on the barrel to give it ‘flair.’
They gingerly inched towards it, expecting it to be a trap. They reached down, oh-so carefully… and swiped the gun, then immediately leapt back.
No attacks came rushing at them, but something seemed to change in the air once their weapon was back in their hands.
Clover stared down at their revolver, then held it up to look inside the barrel.
And sure enough… it was loaded. And not just with any bog-standard ammo, either… no, Flowey had loaded it with his own friendliness pellets, just for good measure. The tiny white bullets bounced around inside the chamber, ricocheting off the walls and causing the gun to jitter a little.
“ N O W . “
Clover whipped their head back up. Flowey’s voice had changed back to its usual twisted, monstrous tones, and his face was the same enlarged eyes and gleeful grin as it usually was in this form.
Except now, his eyes had gone from bloodshot to dark with white pupils gleaming from within.
“ T U R N A R O U N D . “
The way Flowey spoke those two words let Clover know right away that there would be catastrophic consequences if they did not obey. They rushed to turn their back on Flowey, an action they would normally never consider- turning around and standing still in the presence of the flower or any of his twisted, overgrown proxies was usually a bonafide death sentence.
“ T E N . P A C E S . “
Ten paces.
A duel. Or… a ‘dual’ as Starlo so often mispronounced it.
Flowey was playing a card right out of Clover’s own playbook.
This was perhaps the only semblance of respect Clover had been given in all their time of being trapped and tortured by the flower over and over again.
Of course, they knew it couldn’t possibly be respect. After everything they and Flowey had been through, Clover knew that flower had not an ounce of respect left for them.
No. He was playing with them.
The flower did like to, as he put it, "Play with my food before I eat it..." But this took that phrase and gave it a whole new meaning…
Still, it was unexpected that Clover was finally being given a chance to fight back against Flowey, and not just fair and square, but on terms they were the most accustomed to.
They wouldn't waste this chance.
If they could just be faster than Flowey… if they could just land one shot on him… then they would finally get to deal back a tiny fraction of the pain he had given them.
It would barely mean anything, but to Clover, it was their one and only chance to feel like they were fighting back.
So they closed their eyes and tucked the gun into their holster, which was still strapped to their side after all this time.
Without thinking about how Flowey was going to turn around and take paces, Clover slowly started to pace forwards.
Flowey didn’t count the paces aloud, so Clover decided they had to do it mentally.
It was now or never.
They had one shot.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Ni-
Clover’s eyes shot open as something sharp and thick pierced their body, going all the way through and puncturing their very insides.
Everything came to a dead stop. They stood there, all breath and air vacuumed out of them, specks of blood dotting their torso and face, as they realized what had just happened.
Their mouth was dry. They felt numb, but the pain was steadily building.
How… ? Why… ?
How could… ?
“ J U S T K I D D I N G . ”
Clover was forcefully turned around, still gasping weakly as the pain of the strike began to properly course through them. They were forced to look right into Flowey’s eyes.
It was vines that had shot through the darkness and pierced Clover’s exposed form. Flowey hadn’t even bothered to conjure one of those giant revolvers Clover knew he could form. No. He had just went with the dirty option.
In fact, nothing suggested that Flowey had ever turned around and taken paces of his own… not that he even could. It seemed that he had just been suspended there the whole time, having not moved an inch.
It was then that Clover understood.
Flowey had no intention of playing fair. He hadn’t taken the duel seriously for even a fraction of a second. He was just toying with Clover. Getting their hopes up, only to pull the rug out from under them.
Hopelessness and regret flooded Clover’s mental faculties.
They were stupid. So, so stupid.
Once again, they had let Flowey play them like a fiddle. And for what? To give them one fleeting moment of hope?
It didn’t matter, anyway. They knew it would have been all for naught. In this equation, only one of the two of them held all the cards.
And it was Clover that had been dealt an empty hand from the start.
Clover had no energy to struggle, no energy to fight, hardly any to think. They stood there, only barely able to comprehend the pain they felt, as Flowey stared back at them.
The flower’s maniacal grin grew wider as the vines stuck inside Clover trembled with something resembling glee.
“ W H A T K I N D O F I D I O T F O L L O W S S O M E C O W B O Y ‘S M A D E U P R U L E S ? ”
A small bit of laughter began to escape from Flowey’s throat as he took a second to derive as much pleasure from Clover’s hopelessness as he always did.
The giant floral beast in front of them shifted as Flowey’s face melted back into his normal one.
“Oh, Clover…” The flower whispered, his voice briefly back to normal. The sentence came off more as a hiss as it trailed off and disappeared into the darkness.
Then the maniacal grin and bloodshot eyes returned.
“ Y O U ‘R E J U S T A S G U L L I B L E A S A L W A Y S . “
There was a horrific ripping sound, and Clover knew no more.
The lifeless human’s body halves were tossed aside and the insides immediately were vaporized into dust as the tiny yellow heart floated free from the mental body Flowey had once given it.
The heart desperately tried to levitate away, to find any kind of freedom from the cruel trap sprang upon them.
But it was a meaningless effort, a pointless display from a soul that was no more than a bird destined to go back to its cage.
A vine slammed into the heart, coiling itself around all the way around and shoving its thorns deep into the soul.
Then another vine did the same.
Then another.
Then another.
Then another.
The tiny yellow heart was constricted, trapped, and couldn’t move. Just as it had been so many times before.
It still glowed with the tiniest echelons of resolve, but though its will was intact, it was still helpless to resist the grasp of its tormentor.
It could do nothing but gently continue to beat, to emit that same glow in the middle of its thorny prison.
The soul was stuck, as always, to the palm of Flowey’s hand.
And he would tighten his grasp as much as he needed to…
…until the last remaining spark in that soul finally died.
“Hee hee… don’t worry, Clover. It’ll all end soon.”
“You can’t last forever, and I won’t be giving you all eternity to suffer.”
“No… sooner or later, I’ll bring you the merciful end you secretly desire…”
“When will it end, you may ask?”
“Heh heh heh… well…”
“Why ruin the suspense?”
“We get there when we get there, Clover…”
“Mmm… I can feel it…”
“How scared you are.”
“Where’d all that bravado go, Clover?”
“What happened to the shining hero of justice?”
“Did I finally destroy all that oh-so-powerful courage you kept in your heart?”
“Hee hee hee…”
“What a joke.”
“Courageous? You? No… there’s a better word for that.”
“You’re reckless …”
“That’s why your fate has always been sealed from the beginning, Clover.”
“Hee hee hee… isn’t it obvious, pal?”
“You should know that there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity, Clover.”
“A very fine line…”
“And it’s always been nothing short of easy to get you to cross it before…”
“Knowing that, I doubt you’ll outlast me.”
“It’ll only be a matter of time before your will bends to mine.”
“And then, Clover…”
“You and I will get to enjoy watching the world burn .”
“So, c’mon, pal… listen to your best friend!”
“I’ve never steered you wrong before.”
“Just close your eyes, and drift off to sleep…”
“Go back to your happy place, with all your friends there to meet you…”
“You don’t need to think of this awful place anymore!”
“You don’t need to think of anything anymore!”
“After all, Clover… “
“...This is all just a bad dream…”
“ A N D Y O U ’R E N E V E R W A K I N G U P ! ”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA