Daughter of the Void

Shimiko found herself kneeling in prayer at the entrance of a mountain cave. It was the same mountain cave that Mora had cloistered her in. The same cave where she first spoke to her living God. Shimiko had returned hoping to once more commune with the Necrossiah. An attempt had been made on the lives of her beloved Twins and they had claimed that Mora Mikiri was responsible. Mora, a woman who had spiritually guided her since adolescence, was now accused of trying to kill those who mattered most to her. Perhaps even more than Jashin himself. It was a blasphemous thought but there was no hiding the truth from her Lord. The event had shaken her and now she sought his counsel.

Rain continued to pour from the sky and wet Shimiko's face as she stared at the Kumo city skyline. The rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance and occasionally a flash of lighting streaked across the sky. Shimiko stared at her hands and wondered what was to become of her life, her Church, her Family and her Country. There was no going back to the status quo after today's events. Ryuko had been crowned Queen of the nation, the Twins claimed that Mora was trying to rip out their Bijuu and now she was faced with a decision. Would she forsake her Lady Superior or would she do as Mora bid without question? She would need to see the Supreme Sacristan sooner or later and when she did, she would either do so as a servant or as a prosecutor. The internal contradiction was enough to crush her soul. There was no way out. A logical deduction of the truth was a nigh impossibility and an investigation would only prolong the inevitable. Mora was a careful woman. She'd spent decades refining her skills in manipulation and subterfuge. The true judge would not be the indecipherable facts but the will of Lord Jashin.


"Every action and decision has been preordained by the Dark Lord. You have never doubted me before Shimiko"
"Never!"

For so long Shimiko had followed Mora unquestioningly even if it had meant killing the innocent of the world. Ryuko and Seigi had forgiven her, but the guilt was still there. She had never been given a space to think critically or process what she was doing or why she was doing it. When Mora told her to sit, she sat; when Mora told her to bark, she barked; When Mora told her to bite; she bit.

To Mora you are her guard dog if you ever question her she likely will try to get rid of you,  dogs are only good in loyal.

Ryuko had told her she was more than a killer. The Twins had told her that she was more than a hound. She had believed them and asserted the same to the Necrossiah himself. It was now time to determine what this meant for the Orthodoxy and its future as an institution. Shimiko prayed reverently, she closed her eyes and summoned every ounce of willpower in her spirit. She peered into the deepest void and reached out with her heart, voice and mind. He answered. The Necrossiah was not one to converse. Unlike the Bijuu or so many other malevolent entities that loved to hear the sound of their own voice, the Necrossiah was content in silence. He was like the Void that had spawned him. Mysterious. Ancient. Quiet. When he did raise his voice, it was only during moments of destiny. When the actions of his chosen would dictate the future of his faith and its adherents.





Ỳ̡ͥ̌̒̿͗ͦ͌̽̈́̊͊̅͊̃҉̬̠̰̥o̎͛̂͛͑̾̔̄͏̛͏̩̜͈͇̫̟̣͚̙̩ư̡̛̯͈̞̙̭̖̖̂̇͋ͭ̊͠'̶̧ͭͯ̾ͮ̅ͤ̑ͮ͢͡҉̹̱̲͔̫͉̲̜͚̳̣̙̪̝̦v̧̡̮̮̤͇̮͕͚̤̺͉̹̳̦̝̊̽ͪ̀̾ͪ͑̽̅̌ͮ́͞͠ë̢͍̯̥̬̙́̊̓͐̐̔̇͡ ̡͎͚̥͍̪͍͇͚̺̃́ͩ̊̓̑̓ͦ͝͞͠r̵̷̨̡̛̘̮̬̦̱̜ͦ͆̏ͦͭͨ̊ͩ̇́͐͛̆̚̚ȅ̸͐̔̅̔̆͒̔͜҉̮̫̯͍̥͈̲̪̙͓̘͇̞͕́b̶̧̲̝̜̜̯͖͎̦͎͍̙̹͍̥͌̎̍͗̉ͮ͋̈͌́̚͝͞u̳̗̬̯̗̱̩͓͇͎̗͕̱̺̼͂́ͦͨ͌̈́͆̏ͫ̆ͭ́k̷͍̳͚̼̝̻̺̐̅́ͮ̾ͬ͆̏̒ͪ̽̈ͯ͐̚͘͘͞ͅe̛͆̆ͥ̊͐͟҉͇̱̝̩̲̦̙̖̘̫̘̤̜ͅd̵̨͗ͦ̿̐͆ͭ̑͋ͤ̓̑̊͋ͫͤ̾̇́҉̙͔̹̙̬̮̱̬̙̹̟͠ ̧̜̰͕̗̫̰̼̱̳̭͖̯̼̜̠̲̗̋ͫ̄͆ͥͮ̇̄̒ͯ̓ͥͣ̎̄̍͠ͅm̠̤̬͖̩̰̪̤̣ͤͫ̇ͫ͂́͝ȩ̟̮̼̹̖̱̰̻̼̩͎͉͇̫̫̲̯ͯ̄̈ͭ͆ͥ͟͢͠ ̴̜͈̪̩̣͙̬̞̰̃͋̊ͣ̆ͫ̾ͥ̈́̍ͅͅã̊͊҉̢҉̳̫̺̰̼͙͖̥̙n̶̷̰̙͚̫̠̪̥̺͍̺͖̯̪̟̜̖̰͓̐͑͌ͫͮ͒̓̉ͤ̋͌̽ͫ̋̔ͦ̉̋́̚̕d̆́͑͗̓҉̢͘͏̪̟͙̣͕̼͈̪̘̦͖͍͚̼̭͈͉ͅ ̷͖̱̗̙̱͉͈̝̯̍̋͊̌̔ͥͮ͆̆̄ͪͨ͐̒͒̾ͧ̑̚̕n̵ͩ͌̌͐͊̽̕҉̡͏̗̝̭̝̱o̯͖͔̲̬̪̼ͬ̈̅͂ͣͫ͗̎̔ͫͮ́̚͝w͛ͦ̽̓̈̅̅̚͏̴̢̛̥͓͇̲̪̝̙̝͙̝ ̷̷̨̣̪̗̜̖̣͚̹͙ͭ̿͐͒ͬ̔ͪ̌͗̍̎̀͝ͅy̨͕͚̟̙̙̰̦̪̜̲͈̮̏̀̏̃͟͟o̵̰͙̺̣̼̝̜̰̳͎̘͉̬̬͓̘̳̓̓͌͗̍ͤͬ͜͢ͅͅu̡̢͑͆ͫͨ͊ͪͧ̅ͭ͌ͦ̔̎̿̏ͦ͗͒͐͟͏̹̜̤̭̖͝ ̴̛̙̬̦̥͙̤̜̖̙̠͎̩͉̲̜̰̜̞̿̇ͯͩ̈́ͦͣ̉̀̚ă̛̛̖̼͉͖̻̳̼̫̩̹̅ͧ͊̔ͣ́̃ͯͦͪ̃ͭ̀ͩ̑ͤ̊͠s̸̛̰̜̖̹̻͒ͪ̐͛̂ͩ̊͆̈̎̈́͋͝͝k̷̢̦̣͚̦͚̯̖͉͕͔̯̮̈ͫͬͤ͂ͮ͐̓͒̽ͩ̔̒̄̿ͫ̿ͅ ̨͉̼̲̝͎̤͉͕̬̗̫̘ͣ̒̏͌͆͌̈ͥ͌̀̀́̚fͩͩ̐̌͂ͯͫͧ͠͞͏̸̰̰̠̯̺̼̫̦͚̹͖̣͙̻̣͈̜̜͜ǫ̸ͮ̇̊́̽͠҉̖͉̰̭̫̩̱̱̗͔͖͈̟̩͚̼ͅͅr̡͐̓͐̈́̊̆̂̚͢͡͏͈̲̗̦͓͍͍͔͚͎͖̠̪̝ͅ ̯̠̪̺̮̣͓̖̩̟̼͓̩͈̯͓͚̦̦ͤ͆̊͑ͦ̈̓̑̓͂͑͗̚͢͜m̿̈́ͮͩ̿̐̃̿̚҉͏̷̟̣̗̤̥̖͓͞y̨̧̻̱͇̰̼̮̫̓̊͂͆̏ ̵̡͋̍ͮͭͦ̿̇̊ͧ̽̃̌ͫ̊ͣ̓́̚͠͏̠̞̝̼̭͍̩͍͈c̴̴̢̳̫̹̫̳͓̣̘͓ͦ̋̔̿͗̾̌͐̅̿̀̉ͮ̑ͨ̍̚̚͝o͈͉̲̤̫̭̬̯͙̫̻͉̗̙̣̖͔̬̓ͦͬ̓̽̈̐̌ͫ̿͢͠͞ͅṳ̶̞͙̲̟̯͔̉͋̏͋ͨͮͩͩ̊̊͗͋ͧ̆ͦ̄͐͒́͘n͐͂̽̄̎̓͂ͬ̌ͣ̈́͋̇̈́̋̓͂͏̥̣͚̲̲̬͢͢ͅs̷ͥ̀̾̀̎̑ͬ͋ͨ̆̐͒͏͏͇͔͙͈͇̹̭̱͙̙̮̱̣̤̺͈̼e̷͚͇̲̹̦̭͖̾ͦ̆͆ͤͪ̈́̃̀́̀͡͡l̫̺͇̼͉̯̮͉͙̯̙̩͇͓̱̽̈́̐̑͛́̕̕͢͜ͅ?̶̨̧̛͖̬̰̠͈̳͙̤̖̪̪̣̲̝͆̔̓ͦ͒͒͗ͧ̅̊̃͒̊̆͢




I told you I will never forsake my family....they are my strength. The strength I need to serve you and Jashin...but this is different. Mora is my family as well...and more than that. But now she might be a threat to my own children. I don't know what to do. I don't know who to fight for.

It wasn't a lie. Yui and Yua were just as much a part of her family as Seigi was. Blood would not make them any closer. When faced with such a contradiction, she could not just rely on her own will. She'd need to rely on his as well. Even if it meant humbling herself to his wisdom, she'd do so. In turn, the Necrossiah for all his frustration at Shimiko's restraint knew that she was still the greatest champion he could ever ask for. They'd need to work together. For their relationship was a partnership. A symbiotic bond that was established for one purpose and one purpose only: Glorify Jashin.





Y̴͛̉̽ͯ̐ͥͯ̔̓̃͋́͏͖͈̗̥̝̰̝̪̪̯̬̫͍͕̞ͅo̸̵̝͚̬̥̬͉͉̠̠̙̰͎͖̣͛ͯ̇̿͟u͋̂̋̑̚͟͡҉͖̩̫͈̣̺̳̻͍̘̤͉̦͢ ̷̢̮̫̙̤̩̘̻̬̭̜͓ͪͣ̔ͭͩͥͫͧͨ̄̓̃ͥ͗́̽ả̤͓̞̘͆ͬ̎ͣ͝s̢͆ͫ͋̽ͨͭͯ͗̐͊̚̚͝͏͔͔̯̠̤̮̦k̡̾͂̍ͥͨ҉͖̭̤̻̱̪̼̣̫̝̳̜͖̻́ ̸͖̲̭̤͓̬͍̤̖̬̤̭̮̽ͯ̄̄̑ͤͤ́͌ͧ́͠͡͞f̶̨̖̼̻̰͔̖̭ͯ͐̇̎ͪͯ̉ͫ̾̓̽ͤ̾o͊̔̍͗ͥͫ͒͌͆̊̓̌̏͟҉͏̴̫̹̗̳̼̖̤̥̣̗̮̼͕̪̲̭̱͔͞r̴̷̗̺͍̟̯͓̭̺͉̫̟͉̮̟̣̳̙ͩ̆̀̈́ͦͪ̄ͦ̕͟ ͤ̽̊̈́͗ͬ̌̂̆̂҉͕̹̹̳͕͇͞ͅm̴̶̛̻̖͉̯̙̘̩̙̿͑ͣ̑͝y̛ͭ͛ͦ̌ͭ̎̾͋ͫͮͭ͛̍̔̓̚҉͎̟̮̘͖̗̟̲͙́͘͜ ͧ̅͐̆̔ͥ̆ͧ̄̅͛ͦ̑̉͝҉͔̥̪͉̰͎̹̲̬͇̲̮̠̻̗̙͘h̢̬͓͎͓̳̞̺̥̪̜̜̳͐͐̀̽̄̊ͅͅe̡̥͚̟̼͕͖̩̞̰̹̖̳̮̅ͨ̒̎ͧ̀͟͜l̡̤̥̙̖̦͍̬͖̹̖̠̞̮̩̬̣̼̇̌̽ͨ͗̓͒͑̿͟p̡̧̩̼͖̗̻͛͒ͨͯ͊̋ͦͬ͌͋ͤ͆͋̂̀ͯ́̚̚.ͭ̓̎ͥ́͋͌ͪ҉҉͎̱̘̹̲̗̭͈͙̳͔͔̺̼͢ͅ ̗̠̲̲̺̰̾ͭ̉͗̐̔̐ͬ͗̓͒́͆̊͋̿͜͡B̨̫͓̼̱̜̝̺̻͇̰̞͎͈͈͔ͤ̅ͧ̓̓͘͝u̦̬̻̺̥̯̗̹̜̮̮̳͍̒̿̓ͧͬ͐̀̎̈́ͮ̿͌̓̀̚ͅt͑ͤ̅͆͑͋̚͏̡͏̵̟̪̰͡ͅ ̠̟̠͙͖̣͇̦̦̙̥̜͎̼̝̝̎͂͊͆̕͡y̛̲͍̮͎͎̙̜̭̘̮͙̩̻̼̔ͣͫ͒ͤ̂̕ǫ̠͚̲̤̟̰̼̖̠͚͉͇̝̿ͨͦͦ͗̕͠u̵̡̧̹͕̻̜̬̤̙͙ͪ̊͗ͭ̀͐̔̔ͮͩ͘͝ ̵͂̉͑ͯ̓̎̎́̇̐̀ͦ͜͏̧͓̗̻̩̯͚̹̗͢ȧ̡̖͓̣̳̬̫̙̖̟̺͎̗̳̥̬̰͗ͭͨ̉̿̎͂̀ͮ́́͝l̢̛͐ͪ̓̃͘҉̛̗͎̮̗̜̗̫ͅŕ͆͗̆̐͛ͧ͂ͨ̆̌ͩ́̉̔̚͝҉̶̹͔̘̝̲̺̀́ẽ̢̢̱̱̝̤̰͓̗ͨͥ͌̿ͧ̊̒͐ͭ̐̑̀́͠â̤̻̠͉̤̻̰̼̞̦̼̬̪͈͈͓ͣ̀ͤ̽ͯ̓ͮ́̈́͑͊͒͛̚͢͠ḑ̨̤͎̫̜͎̫̪̱̗͖͑̎͑̈̈́̑͑̽̀͐͆̆͊ͧͣ̀͝y̴̶̖̱͇̩͇͖̙̳̗̫̖̲̺̽̅̒̇́̑̎͂́͠ ̸̴̱̬̣̗͚͎̮̬̘̮͕͓̞͉̮̝̓̽ͪ͐͑͑̀̀͘k̔̌͊͂̌̀ͥ̇͏̼̹̘̝͜n̷̘̺̞͙͙͚̤͉̞̭͕͇̲̱͖̜̊̒ͤ̈̇͊͂̑͋̀͜ọ̯͎̪͈͙͉͚̥̝̖̜̰̯̔ͬͦ̈́͊̿ͥ̉ͣ̇̓̇ͮ̾̃̌̕͟͠͝w̧͕̫̝̮̮̻̹̳̩͍̺̆ͯ͊͞ ̶̧̺̼͉̗̩̘̰̠̗̖͖̝̖͚͊̄̒̅̌ͦͬ̋ͤ̽ͦͮ́͟ẅ̷̛̫̺̮͙̹̮́ͥ̌ͮ̚͜ḩ̂̈́͋̄͒̅̋̀͏̡̛͍͈̯̭̝͕̯͚̥͉̺̮̳̙͖̥a̎͑̍ͪ͐̉́̚҉̧̟͖͇̝̤̠̪̻̭̼́t̶̮̖̩̗̭̱̯̼̫͙̼̜͙͖̤̿̆̾́͐̇̎ͬͧ̎͆͟ ̷̟͍̘͖̜͍̹͓̭̣̣̦̬̤̾̾͒̓ͫ̑ͪ͆͆̏͊ͤ̋̏̒͌̒͆ͤ͠m̡̼̠̩̳͕̦̘̗͎̲̮̻̍̇̔̑͌̐ͦ̈́̐ͣͧ͆ͪͦ̾̽͡ų̨̜̙̭͈̰͔͍̄̃̇͗́ͭ̆́s̨̰̲̪̗̯̟̭̻̅ͪ͌ͤ̈̏̀̀̀ͧͯ͢͞t̶̛͇̥̱̪̘̥̒̽ͬ̀̉̽̀̕ ̯̻̝̙͚̳̜̬͒́̾ͪ̓͗͗̿ͫ͌̓̔͛ͬ̅̽̓̚͞ḅ̶̧̝̤͚͎͈̤͖̝̺͕͗̽̓̄͋͐͌ͭ͛̚͞ē̡͚̰̬̯̯̯͈̺̪̅ͪ̀ͭ̓ͧ̓̊͐̂ͮ͆͑͆̔̒̇͘͜͜͞ ̷̸̝̝̘̥͙̘̟͉̟̒ͦ̍ͪ̉̉ͮ͊͌̾͌͌ͤ͛̚͘͝͞d̴̸̝͖͖̪̫̯̟̜͔͑̀̃ͫ͛̓ͧ̃̾̒̒́͠͠o̶͊̏͑ͧ̈͋ͭ͗̉̅́͂̾͛͑̚͏̨̜̮̖̺͕̰͇̺̱̯̫̹͍̞̯́͝n̵̸̢̛̘̯̼̻̲͉͉̮̻̖̜̥̰̍̆ͩͪͮ͆͛́ͮ̓̿̽͂̇̿̚̕ȩ̧̺̻͙̤̤̱̺̤̳̻̯̘̭̦̤̣̌̇̉ͯͦ͟͡.̗̳͖̝̹̗̯̮̝͎̖̦̜̖̓̃͑̂̋ͧ̽ͮ̐̿̿ͧ͗̌͆͛ͮ̚͡ͅ ̸̜̬̬͚̬̩̭ͩ͊͋͑̒̓̋̒̽ͦ́́͜͜ͅT̛ͦͣͬ̽̃ͪ͑҉̨̬̮̖̩͈̦̼̦͜h̴̊ͯ̅̉ͤ̀̀͏̮̹̖̳̞͖̭̠͈̣̝̞̣͉̘̯͕eͣͧͧͭ̽҉̀͏͏̧̠̠͉̟y̶̸̡͖͍̲͕̘͎̝̬̹̬̼̤̝̺͚̖̑ͮ̎̔ͥ̽͒ͧ̿̅͢͝ ̝̖̠̯̳̫͊̐͗̋̃̃̎̏͆̓͡͝a̡̗̳͍̝̻̗̲̫̬̟̝̺͆͂ͫͩͦ̆ͭ͋̓̚͢r̵̶̤̰̪̼̳̠̙̦͗̽̐̃͗̄̎ͣ̄͆̀̿̀͜eͫ̋͊̐ͥ̊͌ͨ͡͏̹̞͖̦͍͖͈͙͎͈̫͚̳́͢ ̶̴͕͓͈͍̙͉̺̦̜̝̤̤͈͓̘ͬ̉̂̍͗̄ͣͪ̄̚͜͢͞ẗ̨͖̣̺̭̼̟̬̙͉͉̻̩͉̳̳̮̔̊ͥ̍̿͒͌ͪ̏̏͆͋̎͝h̸ͣ͆̅̋̐̅̅͌͂͂͂͋ͤ͒̀͠͏̦̪̳̬̘̭̪̭̙̹̱͚̹̝͔͉̪̠̙ȩ̸̶̖̬̪͐͛͑̿ͥ͗̾ͣ̈̚͜ ̷̮̺̼͓̜̟̗̫̰̲̟͚̘̘̉̑̈́́ͮ͘m̡͍̠͉͙̲͍̯͊ͦ͛ͮͩ̀́ǫ̶̵̦̦͍̤̠̤͙͓͇̗̗̳̞͌͗͑̈͆̆̒̂͑͆̈̒̕͝s̴̡͕̭̞͇̰͈ͮͥ̋̊̐ͯ̇͌̓̀͗̆̂ͮͯ̍́̒ẗ̸̴̶̛̞̭̭͇̰́̀̅̀͌ͯͪͧͯ̓̽ͩͦ̓ͧ͘ ̶̫͇̦̻͓͓̗̹̥͎̭͙̭̙̭̺͆̇̽̑̿̊ͤ̾́̍̋͢i̡̮̟͍̤͕͎͈̝̦͌͛̇̀̌͆̌̋ͫ̍̾̽ͣ̇́͢͝ͅm̸̠̺̟͕͙̺̬͍̺̥͙̤̺̞̼̺͍̌͗̍ͥͧͨ͗̑͛͒̃̈͆͝ͅp̧̢̐̆̈̔̈͂͂̃͐͌͋̚͏̛͙̱͇̺̦̙̳̠͔̺͓̤͈̖̜̙̻̖oͯ͛̾͌͂̄ͮ̾͊̔̌ͥ̃͂ͯ̌ͮ̈́̚͟҉̢̨̡̙̻̤̫̟̪̼r̈̍ͯ̍̇͜͏̱͕̮̟͍̤̹͍̳̳̲͓̝̙̝̲ͅt̷̫̫̤͍̗̿́͐̏̒̎̄̎͢͝ạ͇͖̗̰̘̖̘̱̜̰͔̦̮͍̍ͯ̐̆ͧ̉ͪ̃͂ͦ̓̎̽̇̚̚͟͞n̙̗̲̠̫͓͂̀̐̊ͫͫ̌ͯͨ͑̒̆ͩ̌̒ͩͥ̌ͧ͜t̴̢͒̾̀̉ͧ̾ͨ̏̂̎ͥ̄ͥ̓́ͪ́͏̣̯̩̖̰̝̲ ̬̜̖̝̮̰͉̝͖̰̖̤̖ͯ̆̅ͪ͌̓ͯ͂̒͌ͮ̐ͯ͟͞ṱ̗̫̘̪̫͓̱̘̰̪͑̎ͯ̓̎͊ͦ̄ͥ̈̑̿̍ͮ̑̀̕͝ḩ̴̝͖͉͚͕̼̪̯͓͇̻̗̪́ͫ̑̐̔̊ͦ̂̂̿ͬ̎̐ͤ̈ͥ̾̕͠į̫̩̱͇͖̪̰̖̞̘̺̱̖̻̬͈͓̯͐̒̆̌̂̐̇͊ͧͨ̔́͘͡͞n̶̜̣̪̱̹̪͚̠̹̮̝̼̯̦̈̇̂ͧ̉́̕͜͠g̴̻͖̲̪̱̭̤͓̬̩̤̺̞ͨ̋̈́ͥ̀ͨ̋̓ͫ̋̑͡ͅ ̶̢̜̱̙̥̞͓̺̥̠̹͖̪̙̰̘͍̫̯ͥ̈̌̂̇̇ͧ̍ͩ̍̔ͦ͢͜͝ţ̩͈̖͙̼͓͖̤̫̣̺̻̱͖̘̮͚̆̔̆͌͐̽ͤ͋̄̂ͪ͟ò̔̾ͣ̃ͦͩ̎̾̒̽́ͨ̀ͪͦ͐͏̧͍͈̤͙͎̲ ̶̨̢̞̩̣̣̺̝̭͓͖͉̜̰̮̦̗̋̋̿̇ͤ̂̃̅͐͠ͅy̅̅̋͒ͭͭ͏̴̫͔̫̻͙̝͈͉̙͔̰͇̣̤̭ͅo̢̢̜̜͕̱͙̹͖̺̙͔̫̟͉̲̔͗ͬ̅ͮ͂̊̉ͫͤͬ̋͂̿̑̏̐ų͔͇̟͈̗̻̔͒̈́͒͠ͅ ̨̬̯͉̜͈̹͚̲͙̳̩͆̏ͨ̓̅̋́ͣ̑̾͘ͅi̘̰̫̯̥̣̩̰̘͍̳̹̮̲̖̤̯̫ͯͦ̈̅̍ͦͬ̀ͦ̾ͪ̋̊̚͜͡n̴̢̛͓̗̝̞͖͔̟̥̐͆̓̂̚͝ ̷̠̹͖̮͇̪̟̻̲̗̭͍̼͇͎̼͆̋̉̆͘t̡̨̪̺̖̲͓̬̲̭̣͔̞͕̄̎̽͂̕͟ĥ̴̢̜͈̞͓͙̩̳̍̊̓ͦͣ̀̆̂ͦ͘͜į̸̸̞̖͈̺̤̗̞̯̟͍̤̦͌ͮ̇ͣͨ͌͛̃̓͞s̷̢̛̝̟͚͔͍̠͚͈̬̞̦͙͈̖̗̓̉̅͑̀̚͝ ͚̬̮̮̘̘͒͑̒ͧ̃̇̎́w̪̬̞̺̼͈̣̬̌ͥ̒̋̋̓ͧ͗ͫ͢ǫ̶̴̬̙̩͔̼̹͕͇͖̬̭̼͔͉̺͇ͬ͗ͭ́̽ͦͪͫͭ̽̉̽ͣ̋̐͢ͅr̵̨̢̩͉̬̬̥͇̙̙͓̖̯͇̊ͫ́̄̆ͦ̈́͒̎ͯ̾̅ͤͬ͋͒͂́l̵̶͎̫̫̥̭͉͇͚̫̤͖̲͓̝͚̝̣̺̋̽̆̑ͥ̕͜͢d̸̨̻̹̩͇̹̣̬͔̘̦̼ͣͤ͛̓ͧ̓ͨ͘͝ͅ.̸̡̣̫͎̹̝̞̰́̒ͥ̚̕͟ ̴̢̛̗̠̬̝̰͐̿̃̏̎́̿͑ͫ͛̾̉͡Ỹ̷̧̭̳͇͎̻̰̣͖̯̹̩̙̻̩̳͉̼̬̺ͩ̍̇̅ͧ̿̑ͦ̃̚o̸̵̼̖̣̻͙̪͎̞ͦͮ͌̄̑̽ͧ̏̾͛̓ͯ͆̕͢u̶̢͍̥̞̟̲̻͎͕̦̖͖̻͚̺ͫ̃̍̈́ͣͪ̃̚̕ͅ'̴͇̦̜͙̺̦̭̖̣͔̖͕̹̝͂̀̍̽̔͒̆ͭ̏ͤ̏̾ͪͬ̚̚͝͡d̷̢̺͉̟͎̺͎͕͖͓̳̫͉̔̌ͣ̋ ̤̱͇̦̬̥͚͇̬̜̼̱̺͓̱͚̤̿̈́͛ͨͯ̒̅̐ͧͮ͗͑͆ͯ͐̿̆̚̚͟͟d̴̮̻̤̤̣̙̠̫̮̼̮̃̐ͬ͗̏̿͌͂̑͡ͅuͪ̎̐̒̓̇҉̧͎̯̯̩͇̥͍̖͙͖͠s̛̮̮̯̦͍̰̱̹̳̠̗̰͖̜ͥ̈́ͨ́͊ͨ̓̓̑̎ͬ͊̀̚ţ̧̼̝̲͔̝͕͚͍̫̦̙̦̥̜͖̪̉͗̋̑͜͠͠ ̷̻̟̯̠̤͍͙͔͖̠̺̣̥̺͇͖͑̈́̿̐̍ͤͪ̅̽ͪ͒̽̀͞͝t̷̸̵̨̺̪͚̖̘̮̱͓̬̻͓̰̤̭̦̗̩̭̖ͦ̓̽͑ͯͨͮͦͣ͆̑͋͋̀͌̏̿̚͜ḩ̡̦͖͇̩͍̬̞̜̗̻̟͖̲̤̙ͩͬͯ͆ͪͥͪͅe̡̨̞̣̜͔̜̱͖̼̼̖̫̩̰̝̤̪̟̳ͮ͑̈́̂̍ͤ̎̽ͤ̋ͪ͐̊̿̐̔ͪ́̚ ̢͕̟̮͔̖̹̘͚̎ͨ̄̉̈̀ͨ͒̿͌͌ͣ̆ͩͦ̊ͯ̏̈́͘̕ş̴̲̱͓͎͙ͮ̍̈͂͊ͨͪͫͯ̆ͨ̽͊͑̉̐̃͛k̴̡ͣͧ͌̅̇͆̋̃ͯ͋ͬ̉͊ͣ͏̜͎̲̺y̶̡̱̜̫͔̝͎͈̜̬͎͙ͥ̆̒̂͂̊̉͝ ̲̥͚͔̝̱͎͈͓̝͔͉̜̬ͨͩ̏͂̉ͣͤͣͧ̊͑͒̂̄͠w̡̛̮͈̟̬̺̺̍̈́͑ͯ́̾̓͠͞i̺̠̤̘͎̳͇̯̖ͩͤ̑́ͥ̋̔̊̆̅̐̐̏̄ͧ͐͟t̨̰̠͈͇̾̇̑͂ͯ͆͑͌͗̌̆̀̾̋ͣ͘̕ȟ̰̩̱͎̭̪͓͙̩̻͇̘͕͍ͯ̀ͤͥ̉̎̉́̀͆ͨͬ̑ͫ̍͞͞ ̴̷͎͇͚̬͔̲̣̮̰̓̿̿̑ͤ̽̐ͤ͑ͤ̉̀̅ͅt̢̓̉͊͂ͦ̊ͣ̊͡҉̧̟̹̮̠̗̞̥̙̜̟̞̰̫̬̪̤͓̜͞h̫̦̳͈̝̙̟̖̻̣̤̊ͥ͐̐̾̾͟͟͝͞ͅͅẻ̴̴͔̞̩͍̂̿̓̓ͨͧ̍̓́̋͋ͮͦ͐͑̅͌͒ ̛̭̙̲̝̟̤͊̔ͩ͂ͫͣͪ͑̐̄ͩͤ̏͌ͭ̚͞b̛̈̑̇ͣͯ̇ͬ̎ͯͭ̑ͫ̏̐̿̎͛̂͜҉͓̣͕̗͕̺͖̖̱͓̹͎͍̼̲̼̗͠oͨ̇̍͗͏͎̘̭͇̣͚̟̭͕̟̹̣͔̬̠͇̺͉͈͜n̳͙̟̪̱̣̞͖̯̖̥͎̋͛ͨ̍̄ͬ̉͐ͥͨͩ͐̄̉͞ͅḙ̶̢̪̫̩͈̝̥̟͖̦͙̮͈̞̹̜ͩ̒͑̈́̾s̤̼̰̯̣̩͔̦͍͕̼̯̫̝̙̱̞̤̦ͫ̊̔ͭ͂ͯ̈́͑͝͡ ̢ͫͯ͛̉̂̆̇̃̄͛͑ͯ̓ͬͪ̏̕҉̺͖̫̲͔̤̖̦̼̝͚̥͝ơͯ̈́̿̍͒͑̏͒ͤ̊҉͞͏̥̘͚̘͎̯͖̖̞̫͎͕̻͍̠̤͕̦͕́f̸̜̖̲̣̩̻̺̥͚̦ͥ̆̿̈ͩ͑͌̌͗́͠ ̴̏̌ͯͭ͛̊ͦ̈ͨͥ̂҉̡҉̙̯̬̬̘a̷̸̧̺͓͙̤̫̗̣͕͖̖̰̲̎̋̄ͧ̓͞n̸̢̦̼̙̥͔̖̣͎͓̲͕̺̞͓̓̋̈̍̽ͬ̊́͋̔͌̌͂ͩy̡̫̱̣̦̩̠̱̾́̒̇͐ͯ̑͑̀͑̔͂͑̃ͧ̒̇͟͜ọ̸̠̫͈̦̩̹͖̠́̊ͩ͑ͧ́͒̇ͮ͆̄͊n̶̠̜͙͍͔̣̺̺̪̣͚̹̺̲ͩͫͫͪ̆ͪ̕ͅͅe̛̾̋̌͒͐͌ͣ҉͖̪͙̩̕ͅͅ ̶̨̥͖̱̙̫̘͓̳̻̦̰̯̝̪͇͍̲̻ͤ̐̌͑̍̄ͭ̐̚͘͞w̷̨̛͎̗̳̟̼̹͎̗̝̞̘̟͕͂ͤ̋̃ͨͤ̔͒̾ͫ͆͆ͮ͑͞h̛̿͌͊ͮ̆̓ͬͪͮ̔͡͏̸̪̠͎̱̰̹̙͍̰̠̲͈̭͓̼̭́ͅò̴̡͉̮̺̘̩͖̙͔͚̂̾ͮ͑̒̔ͬ̀͠͝ͅ ̯͚̼̘̠͇̹̱̲͊͑̒̀̔̋̒̎ͬͦ̄̀̓ͬ͜͟͟͠t̴͙͙̮̳̦̖̣̱̙̖̻̘̻̤̹̱̃͌̆ͥͩ̓͢͟ŗ͗ͫ̀̓͐̇ͧ̉͌ͥ̾ͤͭͤͮ̚҉̛̼͈̝̲̞̱̠̱͔͈̰i̶̛͎̣̣̘̩̦͛̅̽̏̉̑̑͋̀͋͞ͅe̶̡̮̗̩͕͙̰̘͍̟̺̗̞̫̻͚ͦ̉ͯ̒ͤ̌̑ḓ̨̢̪̖͖͗̃͊̎̔̌̓̊ͯ ͗͗̀̇̐̐̏͂̅ͧ͏̛̛͈̲̩̣͖ṯ̸̴̩͍̺̫͈̳̙͙͚̩̜͔̬̱̠̻̮͋̅ͮͬ͊͗̂̃̏̆ͥͭͦ̎̇ͮ͘͟ͅö̧̠͎͔͈̣̼͔̞͕̼͙̜͍͎̞͉̺̀̓́̑ͬͬͣ̕͟ ̛̹̺̟̬̺̮̞̭̟̲̲̦ͭ̉̓͗ͩ͞ͅh͎̬̞͎̹ͧ͛̊́ͭ͟͡͞͞u̶̜̱̗͚̬̠̹͙̦ͣ̽̈̄ͫͧ͗̐̏ͪ͒̈̏͝ͅrͣ̍ͮͫ̑̋̊ͩͩ̂̇҉̸̥̜̥̹͍͇̳̘̱t̶̡̻̟̝̘̟̖̣̼̟̜͔̳͎͈͙̗͉̙̝̄͊ͫ̂̌ ̐̿́͊̔̇͐̆ͭͪ̓ͣ̐̑͌̌̍́͏͚͓̺̙̯͘ͅţ̧͓̞̹̞̰̙̥͎͚͈̖̩̲̽̉̒̆̾̂̑͑͠ͅh̴̵̶̪͈͔̯̤̫̜̪͎̪̜͉̥͇̱̎̒͋̚͠͡ͅȅ̵̢͇̮̬̮̟͕͎̥̀͊̒̒̑͞m̡̢͕̜̙͇͚̺̮͔̙̬̝͚̟̘͕̱̻̬͛ͧͨ̒͒̐ͫ͛͠.͍̙̹͕̦̖̘̰̦̄̃́͊͐ͬ͑͊ͪ̈́͊ͬ̔͐̂̐͆̏ͭ͟͡͝ ̴̴̢̥̯̜͕̝͖̺̥͇͈͖̫̘͍̻̝̙ͣ̄̑ͤ̏̾͂̈͗͗̃̀̆̊ͧ̀̕ͅE̛͍̬̹̖͉͍̠̙̠͓̼̻̮̳̍͆ͦ̚͘̕͟͠ͅv̛͔̠̺͓͕̺̥͙̜͇̮͎̺̹̍ͧͯ̋ͦ̒͂̈ͬ̔ͮͩ̊ͮ͝͡ȩ̴͓̘͕̪̗͇̺̙̰̗͉̐̈́͗ͫ͆̅ͮͯ̇ͪͥ̋ͯͩ͂̚̚ņ̶̙̫͔̦̯͖̝̭͕͙̩̟͔̗͊̍̓͌ͬͫͅ ̷̯̻͕̼̤̹̹̲̞̃͊̾́ͤ͘m̵̨̟͇̙͔̠̣̲̰̺̳̻͙͋̀͌̾̑̏̂ͦ̏ͤ̃͑̌ͫ̅́͞ͅȩ̸̼̰͕͚͚͉̤̿͛ͩ̂ͮ͛ͧͨ̅͌̍̿̋̒ͭͧ̆̀̕͜ͅ.͍̗͔͇̩͉̝̃͂ͧͯ̂̄ͧ͜ ̸̪̖͙͙̪̣̦͓̰͌̏ͧ͒ͧͬͦͦ͌́̕ͅI̛̫̯͖̱̪̖͍̮̯͔̯͉̽ͤͣ̿̐̎ͮͫ͛ͣ́̚͘͠f̧̘̟̭̣͍̻͍̦͍̌͌͆ͩ̇͋͛ͯ̅͘͜͞ͅ ̛̼̘̫̞͎̩̬̣͉͚̼̙͈͔̏̐ͣ̑ͧͮ̅ͤ̔ͮ̃̆͋̇ͪ̓̽́͟ÿ̙̱̭̪̠͙̭̗̥́ͮ̓͊̍ͤ͌́̃ͭ̏̋̄ͫ̿ͯ͜͝ͅo̴̡̺͈̲̭̭̲̒̐ͤ̂ͦ͋ͦͤͫ͑͐ͣ̀͂̑́̚͡u͊ͣ̽ͧ͏̶͟͠͏͙̭̬̰̖ ̈́̅̆̍̾̓ͥ͑̚҉̸̞̳͓̼̝̕͟f̈́͆̇̊̐͂̔̐ͪ͒̽̌͠͏̸̼̜̯͕̙̠̦̝̯̞̻̩iͪ͛̄ͩ͐̍̾̓̔ͥͮ̈͏̷̶̨̱̝̖̪̺̬̞̜̺͕͈̪̞̞̜̦̕ͅgͨ̋ͨ̉ͭ̍͊͛ͧ̆͊̚̚͜͏̨̡̼͚̣͈̖h̰͙̭̮͖͇̯̦̲̖͑̊ͭ̌̉̉͋ͦͭ͠ͅt̢̟̞̭̱̬̮̥͎̳͌͒̔̓̓̾́ͮ̏̄ͥ̇͢͜͞ͅ ̶̸̴̛̭͉̙̼͇̯͈̹̞̙̞̠͔̠̦̞̞̌̉̎ͣ̋ͥͧ̆̐̓̽͂̆̈́̾ͪ̕t̸͎̰̝͙̃ͧ̑̇͜͞ơ̵͇̯̰̱̞͕̻̮̝͎̝̒̋̀͗͗̓ͭ͒͐͂̓̎͊ͫ̾ ̛̠̮̙͔͔̭͇̝̰̗̪̪̥̠͕͉̊ͬ̔̀͘͢ͅd̝͔̟͍̩͚͈̮͉̩̬̦̤̖̤̦̑̇͗̇̍͑̂̋̆̾ͤͯ̌̐̀̋̀eͫ͑ͦ̎͌̽͆̈́̎̄ͪ͂̾̈̀͠͏͉̹̰͙f̸̝̦̦̝̺̱̭̲̤̞̺̠̘͚͈̌͂͐ͥ͌͆̾ͤ̅͐ͭ̅͆͐́̚͜͝ͅe̴̡̢͍̠̪̦̯͖̠̥͉͋̇ͭͥ̓̎ͥ̒͐ͮ͒ͭ̋͂̚͘͟n̵̡̢͎̩͕͎̫͉̹̝̬͍̂ͪ́͋̔ͨ͑ͩͫd̷̢̳̙͉ͨͫͧͬ͂ͯ̑ͧ̾̂ͅ ̧͍̤͖̹̖͉̜͍̗͇̟̎̊̉̈͊̔̃͒̓ͬ̎ͫ͜͞͡ţ̨̩̟̠̮̗͉̗̤͊ͧ̌̈́͒̓͒́ͯ̽͘̕͠h̪̦̱͖̖̝͈̋̏̃͆̍́̃̀̋̿̕ͅͅȩ̱̲̻̹͈̝͓̝̭̤͖̮̼̮̩̘̗̣̙ͯ̎̾̓̇͊̾͘͜͟m̤̬̺͎̩͇̫͇̗̾̓͆͛͌̿ͨͥ̅͐̑͢͝͞.̣͈̭̪̥̙̦͈ͫͥ̎̒͊ͪ̆̋̑̎ͦ̑̀̚͘͡͠ ̋ͨ͂̿̌̿̾̽̄́́̉̀͜͠͏̦͉͍̣͉̬̯͚͔̜̣̺̞̗̯Y͔̪͓̹̩͋̄̐̈́́͜͡ơ̳̤̙̖̹̐ͬ̋̃̂̈̈́̓̋͐̅̈́u̷̡͔̘̖̭̦͈̹̯̱͙͂́̅̌̾̌͂͆̄̋ͮͪͯ̾́̀͡ͅͅ ͛̎ͨ͋̆̃̓̓̃̎̓̂ͦ̔҉̸̠̫̮͍̲͖̜̝̳̝̬̕f̶͗̊͂̓ͯͣ̆͛̃̌̔͒̓̈́̄͑̚͏̱̝̱͍̼̙̕͢͝i͓͔̞̲̲̜̲̦̰͔͖̮̳͛͂ͮ́̉̌͛ͥ̂͐́͝g̷̢̈́ͩ̓ͣ̊ͩ̃̚͝҉̥͔͎̘̮̯̮͓̣̠̯̣̹̝̺̬̲͇̩h̛̔̇ͦ̒ͤͥ́ͤ̈ͤ̅ͭ̆̂ͫ̍͒̽͏͇̗̪̣͜͢ͅͅt̸̨̹̩̪͔͔̯̻̮̍ͯ̂͂͜͡ ̶̶̬̖͓̫͕̰̼̤͕͉͍͈̍̆ͮ̎̓́͊̈́̄́̄͗͝͞͠ͅą̴̜̱̳̙̮̟̠̞̠̲̠̮̙̩͔̜̫͓̆̿͐̐̄̓ͨ̓ͭ͆́̀͟͝tͩͨ̃͌̓̑̊̌͏̰̗̗̤̟ ̉̌̅ͬͭ̃҉̷͚̖̩͍̟̱̳͚̤͜y̸̨̢̧̭̱̲͙̠̭̱̯͎̱̅́̿͛͠ͅo̡͔͍̼͚̮̟̦͂ͭͣ̔̍ͨͮ͌ͯ͋ͥͬ͑̍̉̇ͪͣ̕͟͡ủ̧̥̤̻͙̝̖̘͔̦͔͖͙̅̎̿ͪ͒̉̒͊̃ͬ́ͧͣ͞r̴̝͈͚̗͔̘̖̆̊̽͂ͦ̓ͪ̓͂̇̅͑͜͡ ̢͆̓̔͑͊͊ͨ̓͌́҉̪̯̼̱͎̫̬̘͓̺͇̣͔͍ͅsͭͧ̓ͨ͐̌ͬ̍ͦ̄ͯ͝҉̯̟̝̟̣̳̜̗͓̜̖t͐̄̓͆̈́͆͛̅ͧ͋̑̍̂̾̚҉̢̢̼̪̳͎̮̳̥͕̖̦͜r̴̢̬̺̺̰̺̰̦̘̹̫̩̺͎ͦ́̐ͨ̔̆̾ͧ̆ͪͤ̿̅̋͐̚̚͡͞ͅŏ̡͈͔͙͎͖̬̥̙ͨ̏̎ͧ̿͗̌͆ͤ̏̈́͢͞n̯͓͙͔̜̦͐ͯͨͮ̓̅͒́͊͢g̶̨̹͉̙̞̜̙̒ͯͥͮͥ͊͠éͪ̋ͥͯ́͆̓̒̆͋ͩ͗ͬ̆ͩ͟҉̳̱̜̦̥̬ͅͅsͪͦͯͭ͐ͥͭ̄ͤ̔͐̔ͤͬ̽̔͆͆̓͏̛̞͕̫͍͜t̷̸̗̼̜̮̜̫͈̯̜ͯ́̊̔̅ͤ̄̉ͤ͂̾͜͠͠.ͧ͌̊̔͒̓̌͗͒̆̽҉̻̘͉̳̜̫͉ ̶̤̪̭̦̽̆̂͒ͧ́̔ͥ͟͝͠I̷̡̟̪͙͎̬̺͚̝͇͕̻ͫ̄ͥ̽ͥ͘͢ͅḟ̸̴̡̬̟̯͙̩̼̩̼̺̮̳̥̯̊̐̊̒͐ͪ̉́ ̶̢̖͚̳͚̙̞̪̺̙̹͇̱̩͇̼̏͑̆̉̇ͣ͊ͮͥ̚̕ŷ̛̲̘̬̘̱͍̻͇̫͉̼̯͇͉̣̩̐ͤ̏̿͌̒ͫͭͭͪ̈́̆͒ͯ͢ͅö̧́̋ͣͥ͟҉̶̢͚̬̹̹͔͈̥̼̖̩͈͖̠̩̜̩u̵̴̩̤̮͍̯̻̗̘͈̗̖͈̦͈̯̓ͦ̊͆ͣ̍͂̽͂̓ͧ̄̈̚ ̷̷͎̲̜̺̭̖̞͖̬͍̮̥͚̣̈́̈́͂͑͛͌̌ͪ̂̎͐ͫ͝ṱ̶̶͈̮͉̖̩͇͚̙̖̮̜̮̻̺̞̦̣̾̈́ͪͧ̀͡ͅȩ̝̮̘̦̙ͮͫ͛ͤ̂̍͋ͧͩ͐͛̒ͫ̍̓̈́͊̃̚͞ͅą͙͍̩̪̰̯͓̍͊̓ͤ͟͞c̴͔͕͖̯͉͙͍̮͍̝̦̞̽̋͐ͦͥͦ̿̄̑̾̾̽̚̕͢h͐͛̋̌͋̈̀͑ͦ҉̹̱̳̱͓̠̹̦̤̣̪͍͇̻͇͡ ̤̞̟͓̒ͦ̾̌̐͐̿ͭ̎͒̾͘͟t̶̸͈̮̜̲̲͕̱͔̦̻͕̦̬͕̻̭͖̯͋͆̽ͣͥͤ̐̿ͫ̒̑ͧ͋̒ͫ̊ͦ̕͡ḫ̣͖̮̮̻̣̪̙̺͖̙̗̮̽͊̈́͌̀̔ͩ̒̌ͯ̑ͩ̈́̀̀̚͝ͅe̵̵̡̛͚̮̞̟̳̳͎̫̬̖̺͉̗̖͉̠̪͗̓̊̍̐ͭͭͮ̃ͩ̀̍̽̀͒ͯͦͬͯ͠ͅm̩̗̘̲̭̭̹̖̠̘͉̩͍̝̰̩̤̯͂̃͆̊ͩ̓́̓̎̈̂͐ͦ͐̐̀͠ͅ.ͮ̓̄͊ͬ̋̒ͣ̀ͥ̏͗͗ͤͥ̎̆̃̚҉̷̙͈͚̻̹͇̗̩ͅͅ ̴̖̮̤̰̹̗͔̳̦̹͉̒̏̓ͩ́̍̋ͦ̒͒̐̽ͬ͆͑̏̾̿̕͟͝Ỹ̧̈́͛ͣ̒̍́̆ͪͬ͌̅ͨͤͬ́ͯ͒͠҉͙͚͕̗̼̙̺̘̥̘̱͍ŏ̴̘͖̲͚͈̞̯̯̝͍͛ͣͥ͋̔̎̃ͬ̿͊ͤ̓̎̽̚͜͠ů̸̧̟̱̺̭̩̠͎̞͍̱̟̺͍͔̐ͨ̓ͯ̋͝͝ͅr̶͉̜̪̊ͤ͗͛̽́ͨ͗ͮ̋͠ ̵̛̬͚̤̪̮͈͍͍̠͖͖̞͙̬͎̫̰͆̓͆̊̾́̀́̓̎̿t̸ͮ̅̆ͪ̀͋̅͠͏̤̬͇̲͈̩͔̮͈e̵͙̭̯͔͔͕ͪͪ̎͟͢͝͞a͑͛̾ͤͭ͒̽ͥͣ̽̕҉̪͇͉̘͇̜̯͚̯̝̰̘̦̙̼͈̝̠c̷̷̫̟̟̻̯̻ͮ̓̉͊ͦͯ̅̊̀͒͋̔̏̽̅̑̀̓̕͞ͅh̛͕̗͎͎̰̹ͬ̊̆̈́ͪ̔̚͜ͅi̷̢̗̰͓̩̪͇̼̮̤̩̟̭̘̐̀̓̏̓͒͊̐̆͟ͅn̶͚̬̱͚̱̲̦͆̇ͣͨ̌̊́̉̿̈́̀̒̇̎̒̅̋ḡ̷̘̤͚̭͈̲̻͇̮̫͍̲͙͙̱̹̳̈́͆̐ͧ͊̿̇͋̀̚̕͘s̵̛͔̞͈̲͙͓̞̼͓̻̯̖͍̻̝̉͑̇̽̓͗͒͜ ̛̆͋̓ͥͦ̀͜͏͎̳͚͕̟ͅa͐ͣ͋̔ͬ͋͆̾̉̂̆ͤ҉̵̷̡̪̭̻̪̥͙̞̮̭̱͈̥̞̖̼̖̩̱́r̷̴̷̛̝͖̰͈̋ͫ̿̇͐̽̿ͦ͐ͮ͞eͥ͆̄̓͑̏̐̽̿̌ͩ̽͒̍́́͡҉̣̥̟̘̮̮̰̰̪̻̝̠̘͖̘ͅ ̷̡͚̣͖͈͓̮͎̥̎ͯͮͥ̀̌̎͋f̷̡̥͎͕̱̥̻̣͕̱͈̣͙̜̯ͬͣ̄̇͒̀͌̂͢͠͡rͦͨ̓͑ͬ̃̒̒͊̍̅̄̊̀͏̩̗̪̝̬̹̱̝̰̺̱̦̼͈̮͔͙́͘ē̵̥̲̘̫̦̼͙̳̳̼͉̝͖͕̄̃ͥ̌̌̉̅̍̊̃̏̕e̵̷ͩ͛̐ͣ̿̑̄ͨͯ́ͯ̏ͫ̚̚͘҉̷͕͔͖̗͖͎̜̰̗ ̷̫̘͉͕̠̯̱̰̳͉̫̹̯̱͍͊̃̆̿̄̍͊̈́̐͛͗ͦ̍͂̔̀ͅf̷̨̎̿̏͊ͯ̔͆͑̈̚҉͇̰̠̪̱̻̳r̸̸̞̮̮̲͖̰͖͂͛̆̎̇ͫͯͮͩ̅̏͂ͬͤͨ̌̕ȍ̽ͫ͊̅͗ͫͣͮ͋҉̧̡̯͇̤͚̖̩̠͕̤̦̮̕ḿ̢̥̞̤̳̱̪͓̞͓͎̟͈ͯ̀͊̑̏͂̑̈́̑̈́̔̔͛̈́̍̊̔̀ ̢̨̘̟̪͍̠̜ͭ͛̄̎̅͒͒͑̑̔̊ͥ̈́͛ͨ̂͋̕ȩͣͯͯ͌̏̍̐ͮ̊҉̸͜͏̮͈̗̝̰͎͍̘͚̥̠̜̼̙̥̘͚r̡͉͇͙͍̗̱̦͓̮̯̽ͩ̔̐ͣ͗̔͡ŗ̗̰̘͕̮̲̘͔̫͕ͦ̅̐͋̐ͬ̑̆̌̓͗̚o̵͉̩̥̼ͭ͒̾͂ͪ̎͗̇̑̏̆̓ͅͅr͔̤̤͓̬͖̦̻̊̈́ͮͯ̔̇͋ͥ̋ͤ̅̂͟͜.̻̫̣̫̝̪̖̣͈̝͎͍̤̪̲͙͊̅̇̔̒ͣ͟͜͟͞͠ ̢̔̍ͧ̍̀͞͝҉̹͕͓̜ ̛̝̫̬̪̹ͪ̍ͮ̃͟͠ ̸̧̛̦͓͎͇̬͈̙̫̿͋ͥ̀̒̂ͣ͋̄̀̀L̼͓̘͙͓̱̍͛͋́̔͛̅̀͝ͅǫ̶̾̽͑̆̈̉҉͉͇̣͇̬͇̬̘͚̬̗̰̖̮r̨̬̥̭ͤͯ̿ͬ̋̓ͥ̽ͭ̇̌̾͆ͬͥͪͨ̔ͤ́̕͜ḑ̵̠̤͉̤͍͉͎̜̙̳̫͖̱͉̰̜͊ͩ̋ͥ̓ͪ̇͑͢͟ͅ ͎̳̣̼͓̫̞̯͛͆̄ͧ̓̓ͦͮ̿ͤ͊́̈́ͧͭͬ͗̚͟͞J̷̠̬͉̜̤̬̞̣̤̻̦̏̈́̿ͪ́́̆̉̈̉̀ͦ̈͟͠a̋̍̌ͭ̌̚͏̢̛̗̥͙̟̩̹̗̯͔̻͎̦̳̜̟͎͔͢s̴̸̟̟̣̥͙͙̣͍̥̣ͦ̀̂̔ͯ͊̄͆̐ͦ́͠͠h̨̠͔̭̟̝̭͖͓͕̻͎̜̠ͬ̊͋̊̀͟͢͜͠i͒̄̈͢͝͏̼̪̩̠͎̤̕ņ̵̧̲̺͉̖͑̊̆̿̃̀ͭ̕͞ ̷̼̖̲̘̖̗̫̖̙͇̜̲̞̱̹̙͉̰ͫ̽̆ͤͨͩͫͬ́ͯ̿͛̚h̸̳͔̱͈̘͈͈̻͕̬̮̤̮͖͕̯̯̙̮̽͂̈́ͣ̈́ͯ̽̎̐̈͝ȧ̸̸͔͍̣͔̱̳͑́̓̽ͥ̇͊̅͋ͮ̓̃ͦ̈́̎̃̚̕͠s̵̡̥̗͓̫͓̥̳̥ͩ͒ͪ̂͋̋̾̇ͪ̾̓̄͡




The Necrossiah's short speech was all that she needed. The moment his voice fell silent, all of the doubt and fear she felt melted away. It all makes sense now.... Shimiko looked at her hands and looked at St. Memori's Cathedral. She could see it off in the distance with its majestic spires and stained glass windows. She knew what she had to do.



The Church was mostly empty. After the debacle at the coronation ceremony, Mora had ordered the faithful to sequester at homes and hideaways. She knew that with Shimiko as ANBU Captain they probably wouldn't face a state-sanctioned pogrom, but that didn't mean some anti-Jashinist faction wouldn't try their hand anyways. They were better off laying low until this mess was sorted out. Mora was sitting at her desk in the solitude of her study when she was informed of Shimiko's approach. A book on Bijuu extraction lay open in front of her, as did a tome on forbidden rituals. She closed both and slid them into her desk drawer. She folded her hands and waited patiently. She had not sent for the ANBU. She knew how close she was to the Twins and she knew that it was best to give the girl some time before working her. Despite their seemingly juvenile behavior and appearance, the Twins were smart. They might know what to say to get Shimiko to turn against her and if she acted to quickly and rashly, then all she might do is alienate her one ally in the Queen's new administration.

Mora would need to carefully weather this storm and gather her strength. The Twins would need to be....quarantined and then dealt with. One way or another, her control over Shimiko needed to be reassured. Once that was done, then the nation would be her's. Nariko's retirement was a boon. She had left the nation in the care of a young heathen girl. She'd be easier to break and when she did, the Orthodoxy would finally assert its control over every inch of the Holy Land. From there, they'd be able to use the specter of war to extend their reach further beyond.

"Its only a matter of time" she said quietly as the footsteps grew louder. The door gently opened and her Defender of Faith strode into the room and bowed. Shimiko was wearing her battle garb and her hair was soaked. Mora had been the leader of the Church for so long that she could tell when someone had been praying. Shimiko had sought counsel from Jashin. Mora was concerned, but did not show it.

"Lady Superior Mora, I serve at your pleasure"
"I know you do my child, I know you do"

Mora's wrinkles stretched as she smirked confidently. She was about to launch into an explanation when Shimiko cut her off.

"I know you would never do anything to hurt Yui and Yua. You love them. I've come to the determination that this affair was caused by a weak attempt to frame the Orthodoxy. Our enemies abroad want to turn the Kingdom against the Church and the Church against the Kingdom. We can't let that happen"

This was good. This was very good. Yet Mora felt uneasy. Shimiko had cut her off. She never cut off her Lady Superior. She was just about to profess her innocence and guide Shimiko on their next steps in the aftermath of this crisis, but she was never given the chance. She liked what she was hearing but there was an edge to it. An edge that she had heard before. Disobedience. Betrayal. Mora's hand slipped underneath her desk and massaged a red button.

"You've said many times that they are the future and I agree. I know you'd never harm them.....they were confused and manipulated by outside forces. I told them how much you love them, how you have been grooming them for leadership and how you think they are your rightful successors. It was wise of you to have that conversation with me...especially with your heart condition."

There was nothing wrong with Mora's heart so why was Shimiko speaking as though there was? The only issue with her heart was the fact that it was now racing. Mora pressed the button but the moment she did, she realized they wouldn't get there in time. And even if they did, what could they do against Shimiko Chinoike of all people? Mora expected the girl to be confused and unsure of what to do. She even expected her to be angry at Mora. She did not, however, expect her to turn against the Church so easily. That is, unless she thought she was somehow doing the Church a favor. This could not have been ordained by the Necrossiah...it couldn't.... Shimiko shut the door behind her and a sea of red sparks began to dance around her fingertips.

"Your Holiness, No matter how your condition turns out. Know that we always loved you and will always be grateful for what you've done for the Orthodoxy."
"Shimiko...."



Shimiko's eyes opened. She had been dreaming. No....I've been remembering. It had been several years since she had killed Mora. So much had happened since then. She had rounded up the Church and explained to them that Mora had died of a sudden heart attack. The (doctored) autopsy report showed that the cause of death was cardiac arrest. Shimiko read Mora's last will and testament to the Orthodoxy. She had named the Twins her successor and requested several reforms be made to the Church's policies. There were of course some detractors. Some who accused her of killing Mora and conspiring to install her own Twins as leaders. Those naysayers met a swift and quiet demise. The other Sacristans quickly fell in line and after the election, the Twins were elevated to the status of Lord and Lady Superior of the Orthodox Church of Jashin. In keeping with tradition, the Church sacrificed a single Sacristan on the same day they elected their new leaders. The honor was bestowed upon Sacristan Lee-hei, an unfortunate coincidence given his close relationship with Mora. The rest of her time was spent grooming the Twins as leaders, cracking down on dissenting factions and implementing her children's reforms. It had been a busy time and the war had only made things more difficult. The never ending parade of conflict and conspiracy had worn down on her. Little Nariko needed her to be a proper mother and so retirement was now on the horizon.

Unfortunately, the ninja world made it rather difficult to hang up one's weapons. Seid had asked her to help fight his Bijuu for Control. The Ten-Tails Karaku was the biggest Demon she had ever seen in her life. They had kept the creature on its toes for awhile, but it was just too strong. It had gotten the best of both of them and she would have died if she hadn't been pulled out by Kara. She looked around and saw various medical equipment. The gentle beeping of the monitors reminded her of the day she recruited Irui into the ANBU Black Ops. She sighed and rubbed her head as the events of the past few days came to her.

How long was I out for? she asked herself. She didn't even have time to contemplate the thought when the TV flickered on. Even through the drugs and mental exhaustion, Shimiko recognized the location shown. The Emporium? The city appeared to be in total disarray with what appeared to be jet black demons overrunning whole sections of neutral zone. Shimiko looked on in confusion as shinobi from every corner of the Earth fought to keep the creatures at bay. Is this real? The battle taking place on the ground however was nothing compared to the shadow that soon swooped over the city. It was a Kaijuu the likes of which she had never seen before. A malevolent presence that was surrounded by a sea of puppets. Shimiko grabbed the remote and increased the volume. She needed to hear this.

-adies and Gentleman we are witnessing history as the Heavenly Emporium is under attack, I repeat, the Heavenly Emporium is under attack! The truce that has been upheld for years has been violently broken as what appears to be a giant man-made monster has descended upon the city. We are receiving reports that the gravity well has been destabilized and that the city is in danger of crashing to the Earth. Thousands are fleeing for their lives as strange carnivorous aliens roam the streets. God help us all!

She had been only just recovering from her battle with another giant monster yet she immediately knew what she had to do. She had been putting off retirement for so long but she could not leave the world like this. If that thing got loose then there'd be nowhere left on Earth to hide. This is the Society's doing....this is their major play. Shimiko could think of no other culprit. Maybe Nozomi's attempt on the Water Disciple's life had failed and now he was retaliating against the shinobi world. Or perhaps he had had this plan in the works for centuries. No matter the underlying cause she would not idly stand by. Shimiko pressed a button on her bedside and called out:

"Get Mr. Deero here ASAP and tell him to bring my gear"

Shimiko began pulling IV needles and cords from her body as she prepared to leave the hospital. She stripped out of her gown and the hospital lights began to blare. She had not been cleared for release yet. Vik would be furious when he found out, but she didn't care. None of the doctors dared enter the room to try and stop her. They valued their lives and they knew that when this kunoichi set her mind to something, you best not get in her way. The ANBU contact promptly arrived with all of her weapons and armour. She didn't mind getting changed in front of him. The two had worked together for years and were so comfortable around each other, you might mistake him for a second husband. The goatee sporting aide quietly reminded Shimiko that she had a logistical problem.

"Lady Shimiko...the Emporium is many hundreds of miles away. We estimate its current course as being the Kaizoku Sea"
"I'm well aware Mr. Deero. I'll get there. I have to. Even if it means using that technique"

The aide swallowed. The jutsu wasn't even close to being ready. There was a strong possibility that she'd be torn in half if she attempted it. He knew better than to question her further though. Shimiko's mind had been made up. If this fight was worth risking her never coming back home to her daughter, then so be it. He'd support her in any way that he could. She snatched her Badger's Claws from off and rubbed the serrated edges across each other. The friction produced a series of sparks which fell to the floor.

" Don't know what hell that thing came from but I'm going to send it back one way or another. "

Shimiko slipped her Sai into her pouches before striding past her aide and through the door.

[Exit]