...Was that one of my memories or something...? It was all fuzzy, I can't really make any sense of it. I think I heard my name a few times though... Was it something important...? Well, even if it was, if I can't make any sense of it, then I might as well have never seen it...

I slap my cheeks, dispelling my thoughts. My memories... aren't high on my priority list at the moment. I should figure out why I passed out. If that happens again, it could possibly cost me my life.

The sound of regret reverberates in my ears in the form of my growling stomach. Using up that energy must have, well, used up a lot of energy. I feel even hungrier than before, which is definitely a bad sign. It's best if I get something to eat before figuring that out. In the meantime, I'll just have to avoid messing with that energy.

I sigh, something I've been doing a lot recently. After waking up, the pains in my neck have faded to only a slight chill, which is nice. Looking outside, I can see that it's now daytime, meaning I slept through the night. The sounds of those creatures are gone too. Can they only come out during night? I hope so...

Well, lets go.

I grab my icicle, wrap my scarf around my feet, and march outside the cave with determination. I have to find something to eat. At the moment, I could consider myself quite literally dying in my current state. I can't go on any longer like this.

As I walk through the snow, I quickly find myself surrounded by trees once again, with various types of bushes scattered randomly. I notice that some have berries, but upon closer inspection, they're the same paralysis berries as before.

Well... they won't kill me, right?

I go and pick some and stuff them in the hood of my cloak. To be honest though, while I keep calling it a cloak, it's really just a rectangular sheet of cloth with another piece of cloth attached, vaguely in the shape of a hood. It's better than nothing though; in this type of situation it wouldn't be strange to have nothing at all.

After I finish picking berries, I scoop up some snow and eat it.

...What? I'm thirsty. Got a problem?

Once I'm done with the snow, I stand back up and keep walking, stuffing berries into my hood as I move on. As I continue further and further, the terrain gradually becomes more difficult to traverse. The hills become steeper, some even covered with ice causing me to slip and slide down. Some of them I might even call small cliffs.

Compared to last time, I've been out walking significantly longer. My legs ache, but I know that if I take time to rest, I'm not going to want to get up again. Even so, it's not like I can just go back now. All I have are some poisonous berries... they'll sate my hunger and offer some nourishment, but won't be much help in the long run. On the other hand, if I could find an actual animal...

My eyes catch movement, and immediately dart over to a beetle clinging to the side of a tree.

...

N-n-n-no way! I can't eat that! I don't care how hungry I am, I can't eat that... thing.

growl

Guh...!

Fine, but only cause I'm starving! I walk up and smack it with my icicle. Blue bug juice squirts out, triggering a queasy feeling in my stomach. With my eyes shut, I grab it and stuff it in my hood, wiping my hands on my cloak right afterwards.

Mission success...!

Haha...

I shuffle away from the blue splat mark left on the tree before looking back.

Although a bug like this... this hardly even counts if we're talking about animals. When you mention animals, you think of squirrels! Or rabbits! Not... beetles or whatever...!

I guess... I'll keep looking for now.

I stand at the edge of a cliff. A small, white ball of fur sits at the bottom, nibbling on the leaves of some bushes. It moves with small hops as its ears twitch, taking in the sounds of its surroundings.

Yep. It's a rabbit. I'm not sure why it's out here though. Rabbits hibernate, right? Yes, they do. I'm not crazy, okay?

...Well, I might be a bit crazy, but that's not the problem here! In fact, there is absolutely no problem whatsoever! This is a perfect chance for me to get some food! All I need to do is catch the rabbit!

...How do I catch the rabbit?

If I walk around, I could possibly go down the hill to corner it, but in my current state, I don't think I'll even be able to catch it like that. Sneaking up might work, but I doubt it. Animals have far better senses of smell compared to humans, so I can't rely on just being quiet.

So... I'll have to kill it... without it noticing me.

I look down. It's right below me.

I look at my hands. The icicle carried in one of them shines in the sunlight.

...Ah.

I drop down to the ground and crawl slightly over the edge. Looking down from such a height triggers feeling of vertigo, making my stomach swim, but I put the feeling out of my mind. I take the icicle and position it straight above the rabbit, holding it tight with both hands, before letting go.

The icicle cuts through the air before landing right on top of the rabbit. The unnatural weight of it pierces straight through the rabbit into the ground, pinning it down. I watch as it flails and thrashes to no avail, only wasting the little energy it had left.

Yes! I-I got it...! I killed it!

...I... killed it...

...Somehow... this doesn't feel as gratifying as I was thinking...

I look at the now twitching body of the rabbit.

It's survival of the fittest, okay? It's not my fault it was weaker than me, okay...? I don't have much of a choice here, you know...

With a grim expression, I shuffle down the hill. As I do so, chills spread across my body, but it's only because I might slip and hit my head. Normally I'd be more careful about it, but considering it happened each time before when I was going down hills, I'm sure it's the cause.

Impatient with my slow progress down the hill, I sit down and let myself slide down, before stumbling over to the rabbit.

...Without my walking sti-... icicle, it's a lot harder to move around...

I look down at the corpse pinned to the ground. Now that I'm taking a closer look, doesn't this rabbit have three eyes and a horn?

T-that doesn't matter. I need food, and it'll suffice. As long as I can get some meat, it's fine. I pick it up and sling it over my shoulder. It won't fit in my hood, so I have no choice but to carry it like this.

I look at the bloodstains, shivering slightly before turning around to go back to the cave. I can only hope that the blood won't attract any predators.

Eventually, I make it back, collecting bugs along the way. It took a bit longer than I was expecting; the rabbit took up a spare hand, while I had to be careful not to let anything fall out of my hood. Once or twice, my neck even spiked up in pain, throwing me into a minor panic. It was tough...

As I sit down on the stone floor, I turn my hood inside out while dropping the rabbit off to the side. It lands with a slight squish, making me wince, but nothing more.

Now... what to eat first...? Definitely not the berries. If I eat them, I won't be able to eat anything else until the paralysis wears off. That leaves the pile of bugs and the rabbit.

...I... think I'll go with the rabbit.

How am I supposed to eat this? I was planning to cook it over a fire, but I can't realy start a fire in my current condition... Using friction takes a lot of endurance, something I don't have, and unless some magical wizard appears to oh-so-magically set some wood on fire for me, I don't think I can get fire any other way.

I guess I've gotta... eat it raw then?

I'm getting a dangerous vibe from eating this meat raw, especially considering the peculiarness of the rabbit itself, and my neck is acting up a bit. But... that's only because it's raw meat, right? It could be insanitary?

Suppressing a shiver, I walk over to the pile of ice shards near the wall. As expected, some of them broke off to create a nice edge. I pick up one of the sharper pieces and move back towards the rabbit. Using the knife-like ice shard, I cut off the skin and remove the organs. Most, if not all of the blood was lost as I was walking back to the cave, so I don't need to worry about that. I also break off the horn and throw it to the side. It might be useful as a weapon later on.

With a slight cringe on my face, I close my eyes and bite down on the side of the rabbit. It's surprisingly flavorless, except for an extremely faint sweetness. Chances are, it didn't get to gain much flavor through cooking. The mild flavor might have been a little bit pleasing though, if it weren't for the slimy and chewy texture.

While holding back my gag reflex, I swallow the rabbit meat.

A forboding feeling strikes my heart as the meat slides down my throat, accompanied with an unbelievable strangling sensation. With zero hesitation, I try to make myself throw up, but I'm one second too late.

As soon as it drops into my stomach-

Ḩ̵̧̜̳͓̥̩͕̩͐̅ͤ͛ͣͫ͜͡Ą̸̰̙̬̻̱̜͉͉̹̮̲͙̮̥̘͍͈ͦ̽̔ͪ͆ͤͥ͒ͅͅH͌̈̔ͧ́̔͏̴̺͚̼̫̮̱̪̼͓̩̼̦̹̳͉̝͇̟͔A̷̸͍̥͕̤͎̎͐͆͒̄̾ͨ̔ͮ͂̕͜ͅͅḤ̷̸̦͚̜͙̲̮̹̜̙̜̩̝̬̖ͧ̑͛̐͌̕͝A̡̮̗͓̗̟̘̣̠̼̾̄ͤ͐͐̀̇̋̾͊̏͑̂͡H̑̎ͨ́ͧ̽̓͌͛̒͌̓̆͏̭͖̝͚̳̩̱̜̦͢ͅĄ̪͈͇̦̹͎̼̟̺͇̻̼̗̋ͩ̈̌̊̆ͭ̏ͦ́́̕͡H̶̸͈̼̦̹̮̹̩̞̫̲̗̖͎͉͍̗̣ͣͨͨ̎̆ͦͧ̑̂̓͑ͭ̑̆̎̍̓̉̎͡͞Ă̡̛͕͎͈̺̤̯͕̬̼̥̭̭̞͙̱ͤͭ́͑͌̏̔͌̋̕͟H̛̻̩̬̦̣̮̜̼͖̐̀͑͂ͯͦ̾ͧͣ͟ͅȂ̵̛̰̦̙͕͔̻̘ͮͭ͒͛̒̈́̽͘H̷̢͍̩̹͇̼ͪ̒ͣ̈́̓̔͐ͭ̓̚̚͜͟͞ͅͅẢ̧͙̫̻͙͖̪̞̘̭̗̓̈͂͂͛̎̏̅̊̄̽͂ͦ͞Ḣ̷̨̘̦̱̦͉̲̩̰̻̪͕͙̯̳̜̅͗̒́ͮͩͧ̏ͤ͜͞A̼̝͔̯̜̖͚͉̟̲̼̹͖̘̤͗̽ͥͧ̑́̌ͣ͋̂̅ͧ͒ͯ͋̈̚̕͝ͅḨ̢͚̫͕̫̤͙̩͇̬̟̮̥͎̓ͬ͐͛ͬ̑ͤ͛̃̎ͧ̚͘͢A̴̛̝̻̫̗̦̘ͮ͂̏̀ͧ́H̶̺͇͇̥͎͎̥̥͚̤͖̝̰̃ͭ̌̔͗ͤ̋̆ͫ̆ͮ͂̚͝͝͝Ą̵̜̠͓͎̻̝̟͕͇̪̯̲̲ͤ̈́̂̔́̌͒̉́͂ͭȞ̴̳̣̝̬͍̩̼̯̟̰̠͕̫̲̄͂̽̿̇ͥͨ͡Å̴̼̬͚͉̟̽ͮͮ̅ͬ̏ͩ͆̄̓ͪ̅͌̃̔̚̚͝͠H̡̻̬͎̳̉ͩ̇ͦͭ̍̑ͨͬ͊͗͑ͬͯ̍̚͘̕A̖͓̬̲͍̺̩͉̖̼͆̈́ͬ̿̔ͤ͢͡H̘̘̙͔̱̜̻̬͇̪͖̗̃̄̐̿̋̈ͣ̓̊͗͌̏̌́ͧ̅͒̕͢͡A̧̙͍̺̱̦̦̹͖͕̬̞̬͚̗ͯͪ́̏͑͆ͣͨ͑ͦ̓̾ͥ̇̈̓ͬ̀̃͠H̗̤̼͖̥̟̱̺̻̙͍̜̜̬̦̥̿ͦ̃̄ͮͩͧ͗ͤ̋ͫ͌ͮ͛̚̚͝A̷̡̛͕̖̙̼̤̐̓́ͮ̓̿͊͒̐̓͂͋ͩ͛̚̚͢͡H͑̓ͤ̉ͮͣ͆̾ͨ̔̒͋̑̅͌̄̋͛͏͍̬͎̰͕̜̤͈͚͢Ḁ̸̡̪͍̮̝͓̩̲͙͎̯̈́̓̆̓̅̏͂̿̄̉̒ͭ̆̇̋ͭ̎̚͝ͅH̷̡̧̫̱̰̭̩̼͍̬̲̘̘̯͓̦̺̍͆̍ͣ̒͑ͪA̶̭͙̭̜͈͉̗̙̯͓̮͉͖̞̠̠͉̾̔̆ͭ̀̽ͦ̚͠͡͡H̢̉̇ͤ̏̉̑͊̇̾͡҉͔͖̪̣̹͉̪̳̭̜̭͜ͅͅĀ̷̴̺̦̭̘̦̼͓̪͕̼̭͎̙͎͎̬̯̈͛̑̔͊̎̉̐̔ͩ̈́̔̄̀͟͝Ȟ̸̛̻͕̩̙̬̖̳̋̐ͨͪͯ̋ͩ̋̂͑͛̈̑͗͛Ą̴̢̩̻̞̺ͤ̈́̎̍̈́ͣ͆ͬ̔ͦͤ̿͝Ḩ̸̶̗̩̙̼̱̝͎͖̼͚̠͕͚͓̙̹̖̌̊ͨͣ͌̊̎ͯͨ̓ͮ̓̆͒́ͮ͛̏Aͨ̊̋̇͂͊̐̈̾ͩ̐̽̚͏̗̼̥̖͇̪̜̮͖͓̬͔̳̰͡͡ͅH̨̫̯͔̞̯̟̞̥̘̳̺̱̀̒ͣͩ̃̂̋Ạ̷̜̜͍̺̠̳̤͚̞̭̮̗̟̻̭̮̩͌ͨͪͦ̀ͩͮͬ͌̔̓̄ͥ͂̈́̕Ḩ̧̧͓͚̥̱̖̰̳͕ͬ̄ͯ̿̇̓ͭͥ̓̀̕A̵̧̛̦͚̲͎̞͎͚͚̺̫̹̜̰̹̓͂ͧ͑̏ͯͭ͌̀͘ͅH̛ͮ͆ͬ̊̊̾̓͊́҉̵̘̺͍͕͔̣̻̻͓̱̗̦̩̙̮͢ͅͅA̸͉̺̹̗͚͓̠͍̣̳͖̺̔̊̇̀ͩ̊̒͆̔ͦͤ͗̿ͤ́̽̚͘ͅH̵̢̫͔̥̼̮̰̭̰͎͎̥̲̩̦̦̟̟͍͚̍ͣ̊̋͐͋ͣͣ̿͜͜A̴̢̜̣̟̺̣̞̤̰̻̾ͤ́ͤ̊̈ͧ̃͗͌̄̾͒ͬ̿͌̅͜͜͞H̊̀ͥ̋ͮͤ͋ͧ̒̉̄̃̓͏̕͏͏͍̭̳͇̥͉͓̣̥͍͎̠̪͇̯͟A̖̙͇̪̯͔̻̲̻̫̤͚̗̼̟̥̩ͪ͐ͮ͒͑̆̐͌̃̉ͨͧͯ̾̓́͡H̴̛̖̖̝͎̤̭̟̦͈͍̼̰ͭ͑̽̿̑̉̈͐̍̇̊̐͂̎͜A̸̻̩̝ͭ̀̈́̄̐̂ͤ̐ͥͦ̎̀̒̇ͣ̊ͮ̋͞͡H̢̧̫̳̩̜͍̖̤̜̟̹͉̠͈̹̹̯̬̿̌͋̿̿̄͋̃̔ͨ́̕͡ͅA̷̛̙̞̥̲͉͆͒ͦ͛ͥ͗̂̀̐ͣ̊̓ͪͪ͆̾͟ͅH̶̡̧̹̦̰͕̫̦̀̆͂̉́͗̈ͫ̀̇͗ͥ̆͑A̷̮͔̲̙͙̬͔̞̰̪̼̮̦̮͓̳͍̓͊ͪͥ̒̽ͪ̏̌̏̃ͮ̾ͨ̀͠ͅH̵̲̻̠̫͚̞̱͉̻̬̻̘͎̣͓͕̳̥͚͌̔ͥ͗̈́̽͜͝͝A̩̲̭͉̖͉̙͇͕̭͎̝̣̗͚̹̼̗͍ͦ̌̅̆͛͊̌̍̓ͫ͢͜Hͥ̑̇͋ͦͪ̆ͧͨ̋̒͏̢̮͈̟̲̣̱̠̜̳̗̯̗͎̻͘ͅA͆͛͒̓ͯͣͥͨ̄͌ͨ́̏ͪ͐͊ͪ͏̕͢͏̹͎̞̦̣͔̥̮̤̥̭̻̦͉͓H̸̖̣̮̗̺̳͕̣̪̻̼ͣ͛ͦͥͤ͛͒̓́́͠ͅẢ̴̭̼̪̟̪̄͂́͝Ḩ̴̳̲͚̙̘̦͉̻̩̺̤̞̯̼̈́͋̿̈̈ͣ̓̓̈́ͣ̎̀͒̚͘̕͝Ảͧͦ̉̂ͫͯ̽̂͐͗́҉̯̩͖̟͈̗͙̜̩̗̜̗̗͖̪̝̜́͞Ḩ̷͚̭̞͚̼̖ͭ͌̋ͩ̉̂̅ͨͭ͡ͅA̵͙͇̻̭̰̭̓͗ͬͨ́ͫͧͬͩ̏̏ͬ͆̿͐̚͜Ḣ̤̘̥͕̦̖̣͇͉ͯ̓́̄̄ͩ̂̉ͥͧ̇͋ͯͬͪ̀̕͢Ä̡̦̫͕̬̦́ͤͮ̾̂̅̓͒̀͘͟H̷̢̭̗̞̦̣̠̪͎̲̥̥͉͒ͫ̇̿ͥͨ͌̃̎̌ͭ̚̚͟A̖̳͙̋ͮ͋ͨͨͪͥ̉́ͨ̈́̇̍͋̒̐̔͑̚̕Ḣ̝̞̙̜̬̭̜̮̙̤̣̟̱̱̍̿͌̑͛̂͒ͯ̋ͪ͒̈́̑̋͜͞A̵̮̬̖̝͇̮̹̬̳̹͈͇̻̦͍̭̒ͨ̏ͦ̽ͮ̉̃ͩͫͥ̔̿̃ͭ̓ͪ̏͠ͅH̡̝̺̥̭͉̲̦̗̟͑̆͒ͦ̀̀͟͢A̐ͨ̔͑ͬ̅ͯ̄͋͑ͪͨ̚͏̸̵͉̘̖̬͉̖̼̱̤͡H̷̪̤̤̦̪̩͖̲̦̰̬̳̘͕̘͂̐͂ͪ͆̇͐ͅA̧̳̮̻̜̗̗̞̹̱̫̜̜̖̅ͩ̐̄͊̉̏ͧ͒̌̉ͫ͑͗̌͂̚͠H̡̫̟̗̟͉̰̞̫̹̘͓̳̘̺͔͓͔̠͖͗̃̎̇̅̀ͮ͗͊̔ͭ̕Â̧̛̗̦͔͔̻̪͖̜̫̦̖̒ͭ̆̍ͧͪͤ̉̀ͧ͋̓͝͝H̸̸͉̞͓̙̲̪͉̳̩̼̲͈͕̥̗̥̤̲͙̐͂ͣ́̄̽̒̓ͪ̓ͬ͑͛̍ͥͣ͐̑͟A̷̞̟͚̫͌̐̇͑ͨ̂̉̽͛̓̈͗̈̀͌̍ͯ̿͡Ḫ̸̭̩͖͈̬̰̯̻͍̮̤̙̹̝̆͋̄̾̃̓̊ͩͦ̾̀͢A̧͌͋͆͛̽̽́҉̸̵͈̜̺͖͍̩̤͎͙͙ͅH̨͚̺͙͙̘͔̮͍͈̼̦̘̋͌ͥͪͫͫ̍͋ͮ̌̽ͦ̉̆ͅA̡͉̺̰̩̖̻͍̫͚͇͈̤̋̊̋͋ͦ͟H̴̨͔̼̤̙̞̩̲̙̙̮̤͔͚̘̞̫͉̹͔͒͐̏̐ͩ̍̓̆ͤ͊̚̕͟͡A̢̦̮̼̼̯̗͔̥̮̱̝̞̙̖̬̩͌ͤ̑ͩ͋͒̓͂̓̎ͭ̚͜͠H̱̜͎̗̮͖̹͕̜͙̪̺͇͛ͥ̈́̃͐̽̀̍̔ͨͬ͂ͩ̈́ͮͥͭͫ͌͠A͛ͭ͋͛́͛̋ͥ̔̆̌ͯ̊ͤ͑̚͏̨̫͍̺͚͈̣̰̗̼̟͖͓̬̲͕͚͙H̗̙̖͖͈̫̖̰̳̱̘̫̣̼ͤͪ̇ͥͮ̔͒͌̓̐̆́͟͞Ã̸̸̧̪̩̙̯͌͒ͧ̋͌̈̓ͮͧ͊̒͊̿͘͜Hͣͬͯ̔̎͂̆̓̅͏̶̸͈̺͓̼̦̪͔͖͓̳͙̝̳̪̩̣͙̕ͅA̢̡͛ͣ͋̽ͫ͑ͪ͊͗ͥ͑̽̑҉̯̪̼̱̱H̵̝̝̝͓̲̝̜͔̼̥ͭͬͭ͋̎͐͜À̡͎̦̦̗̤̤̥͎̤̤̣͙̯̝͙̂͌̌ͭ̆̽ͫ̚̕Ĥ̶̖͈̙̙̹͚͉̦͉̻̗̖̥̤̠̠͉͊̑ͭͫ̋͛̃̆̑̓̒̑ͮ̌̓ͫ̈̕A̡̲̫͇̠̤̹̓ͬ̈́͂ͮ́͋̋̐ͭ̆̄̾̀̀͗͂̿̕H̸̛̫̺̭͓͔̘̰̘̳̲̹͖̫̠̭̙͂ͭ͗͊̔̎̓̌͞͝͠ͅͅA̪͚̮̟̻̖͓͌̒͑̎͋͗ͫ͂̌̿̋ͨ͜͝͠ͅH̴̸̯̺̮̺͖͎̰̯̹͉͖̳̞͍͓̿͐ͫ̾͗̆̾̌ͧ͌̓̾̆ͦ͆͐͠͡ͅͅḀ̸̛̲͓͙̮͖͓̝̺̟̲͍̯͈̙̼̠͙ͥ͐̒̅͐ͯͤ́̀́ͧ͊̅ͣ́̚͜Ḣ̵̳̻̩͖̲̻͕͚̺̠̖̝̳̬̝͖̫̀͒̑̾ͥ̊ͮ̿̀ͥ̾̐͛̚͞ͅͅA̷̡̫͓̭̞̝̦̗͖̭̙͐̅̏̏͆͢ͅͅH̢̛͎͈̺͈͔̺̳͎̙̬ͭ͑͑̈ͧ͑̀͌̽́͡A̶̴̶̪̰͕̬̭̝̹̟͙͖̼̮̍̃ͬ͐̌ͪ͗͟H̷̵̡̛̲̣͉̮̗̦͙̘͚͎͙̟̭̙̬̤͔̭̑͋ͤͪ͊̌̈́́ͅA̦̠͔͕͇̦̗̹̱̱͙̲̬ͩ̿ͤ̄͛̊̒̀́͘͞H̢̏̽͋̌ͣͩͨ͆́҉̨̣̗̬͓̖͕̱̞̭͎͍͔̹̰͉̬̱̲Ă̷̸̷̖̮̟͔͔̼̬̠̳̫͚̭̤̣̞͖̗̆̈̏͒̕H̴̯̼̰͈̘͓̦͖̦͚̪̻̝͇͖̩̹̀ͭ͂̀͂͂̈̓̿͆̔ͩ͋ͬ̕ͅA̢̰͓̹̝̾̉̍͐̌̀Ḩ̷̷̜̗͎̳͚̯̣̳̻̦̑ͬ̎ͧͧͨ̈̐̍̀́ͅA͋͗́͌͋̒̽̇͌̇͛̆͛̓͛̍͋ͦͮ҉͔̻̮͈̥̲̪͖͖̻͈͈̘̹̪̱̤͞ͅH̢̨͓̪̳̟̱͍̺̫̪̠͎̗̣̓̍̿́ͤ͊̅͐ͮ͐ͤA͖̱̦̜͔̬̥̭̱̝̠̘̞̋̐̆̎̈́́͟Hͫͯ̂̾͗͏҉̧̯̘̘̪̞͔̠̠̮̜̩̟̱̹͔̦͎͙͟͠ͅĄ̲̦̻̟͕̟̖̦͈̼̗͙͉͚̲ͬ̄͒̊͊ͨͨ̏̅ͫ͒͑ͮ͛̽̃̚ͅH̷̷̸̩̪͎̻͚͎͎̻̰͔̦̻̺̜͛̉̽̈́̉ͨ̚͜A͚̳̱̞̪̣͈ͮͮ̄̎̉̋͟͜͝ͅH̷̤̱̫̘̘̘͓͎̪̎͋͋ͭ̈̈ͭ̈́̊ͬͬ̎̉͛̉̚̚̕͞ͅͅḀ͍̤̼͕̦͙̰̞̦͔̞͒ͤͣ̑̀͘̕͡͡H̸̜͙͖͕̥̠̟̿͌ͬ̔ͯ̃̔̊ͭͣ͆̀̂ͭ̈́͑̐̋͢͠ͅA̶̧̭̩̖̮͚͍̙͔͈̣̎͆ͬ̑͋͐̂͜͠Ḩ̨̦̺̟̩̰̯͖̩̞̘̟̟̜̞͚̬͚̦̒̏͐ͯ̒̌̌̕͜ͅA̶̳̱͔͇̮̙͊̌ͮͥ̇́͐͛ͦ̿͗ͤ͒̈́͊͞ͅH̵̢̡̟̳̟͚̫͇ͬ̾͋ͧ̏͗͑̈̅ͨ̽ͦͪ͛͐̈͊͋͋̕A̲͓̥͖̺ͭ̊͛ͮͧͮ̾͘͢H̶̷̻̼̳͈̹͇̣̩̮ͫͪ̍̌ͅȦ̊̔̀͌̽̏̓̀ͧ͊̄҉̴̧̛̗̱̙͙̮̦̖̫͡H̡̧̹̜̬̠͓̬̙̲̟͙͎͇̳͖̍̊̍̃͜͠A̶̴ͩ̎͐̋͏̱̩͈̝̥̭̮̞̀Ḣ̰̖̤̬͖͉̰͈̳͉̳̗̫͖̊ͦͧ̿͛͑ͫ̈́͐͘͜A̛͍̟̙͓̪̖̲̪̙͎͙ͧ͆͂̌͂̏͗ͪͭ͞͞H̸̯̮̼͇̹̣͊͊̆ͮ̄̌ͨͫͥ̊̽̊ͤ̊̔̀͜A̛̘̖̣̟͔͕̥̠̹͈̱̅̌̔̾͊͘͟H̴̡̠͇̝̻̜̮ͪ̈ͥͮ͒̋͆̓́͘ͅA̔̒ͪ͐҉́͡҉͔̤̞̞͍H̷͓͈͈͍̙̰͚̤̞̥̻͔͇͚̙̤̣̒͌ͮ͊͂ͥ̾̍̑́̄̌ͨ̒̀̕͠͡Ḁ̼͔̖̗̬͈̭͐͑̎ͫ̓ͭ͒̈͑̽̇̀͢͞Ḫ̸̶̗̜̤̤͊ͯͥ̑͋ͪ͛̀́̕ͅA̛͇̱͎̝͖͈̙͔̜͖͌ͫ̓ͫ̇ͩ̓́͂̄̎̒̌ͫ̈̓ͤ́̕͡H̉̎ͣͦ͊ͧ̍͒͘͏̠͖̘̱̠̯͈̼̹̪̻̻̘͙̱̣̞̀A̸̵̱͉̬̙͍̖͚̼͍̺̰̥̰͊̓̆̐͂̉̌̉̅͞H̸̵̡̢̦̘̰̜̯̜͚͓͚̝̲ͦ̀͑̂͐̐̐̈́͋ͤ̽ͥ̊ͪ̓͟Aͮ͗̾̅͆̉̏͏̨̢̢͉̲̗̪̰̗̯̤̺̭͕̪͍̠̯͇̮͜H̸́̍ͨͬͬͫ̃̈́̒̌ͤ̌͊ͮͦ́́ͮ҉̶̗͕͇̜̦͓̣͔̥̦͉̭̣̠̺͢ͅͅA̛̳͉̭̞̪̺̖̯̰̞̳̻̔̒͂ͫͮ̾͗ͧ̎̏ͯ͌͘H̶̢͔̰͖͇̩͓̳͓͈̙̰̬͛͋̀͂̍ͮͭͣͯ̉ͤ̇̇̀̚͢ͅĄ̺̹͖̠͖̳͕͓̦̜͍̭͚̤̪͚̎̆ͬͮ̿̋͋ͬͬ̎͘͘͘ͅḤ̵̨̛͙̯̜̠̝̺̒̓̌ͦ̂͆̔͑͛͛́A̷̮̮͖̥͈͚͈̳̖̤͇̥͆̆ͧ͗̂̿̍̈́͋͊ͤ̆͘͢͠H̶̢͕̼̹̮̪̘̝̹͊͊͌̃ͪ̽ͫ̄̄̏̿͐ͣ̿̆̚͘Ạ̸̝̩̠̮̯̮͈̤̰͓ͭ̈́͐ͥ̽ͭͯ͐̽ͫͫ̓͡͝Hͤ͂̔҉̴͉̫̘͚̬̭̣͙̕͜ͅA̴̧̼̼̖̩͚̮͂̏ͮ͟͞͡H̵̡̥͕̝̝̼̫͉͎̰͎̻͎̃͋ͯ͐͐ͪͦͤ̎ͬ̒̈͟͟A̵̝̮̦͎̯̠̰̘̪̩̲̤̪͉̥ͭ̀̂̋̉͋ͬ̓H̷̗͎̩̠̜̠ͬͯ͌̐̉̏́͡A͗̓͋ͧͦͩ͊̌̎͏̣̜̞͓̲͖̰͈͕̕H̷̴̴̭͇̻̖͎̞͇͎͚̮͙͍̪̭̞͈̠ͬ͂ͧͮ͌ͮ̈́̐͛̑̾͑̀͂ͪ̚ͅA̡̘͇̙̤̣͈̫͓̿ͪͪͭ͐͆͒̆ͤ̓ͪ̽͌͞͠Ĥ̦̘̠̗̹͚̲̬̝͚̳͍͕̯̰͆́̕͟͜Ả̵̴̾̃̓͊͌͊̇ͩͯͦ̇̏ͩͫ͞͏̪̠̣̗ͅḦ̷̴̢̳̤̩̣͈̻̪̮̖̰̙̗͚͇ͬͧ͆ͬ̚͘A̦͉̻̯͓̩̰̫̟̞͚̰͈̟̘̒̄̈́̓̊̋͐ͬͣͫ̂ͦ̽̆̏̆́̕͡͝ͅH̴̍̍̒ͥ̉ͧ҉̧͚̼͖̜̻̤͟A̸̮͎͇̜̦̹̯̻͎̼̳̗̼̦ͩ̃̏͒ͦͤͫͬ̐͋̚͞͠ͅĤ̷ͯ̂̓̂͊́ͬͦ̐̚̚̕͠҉͎̟̰͍̬͎̱̟͙̱͈͔̙A̸̛̪͇̥̻̬͉̬͚̺̝̮̟̤ͧ͂̌̂ͪ̐̈́̋̅͂̌̿̽͒̂̎͌̕H̡̨̛ͤ͑ͥ͊̄̌ͯͤ̔̀ͮ̓́̚͏̱͔͖͈̟͉̖Ą̗̟̞͈͇̝̥̻̣̫̺͗̐ͮ͐̆̍̍̈́͛̿̿̈́͑̍̊̿ͅH̴̢͉̖̲̥̼͉̗̥̱͍̝̳ͦ̋͐̑ͩ́͘͟A̶̟̖̣̻͆̇̏̏͆́ͧͥͩ̀̓̃͗̔̔ͭ̈̚̚͘͝H̷̴͈̜͈̥͙͚͉̼̟̭̩͇͓ͥ̀͑͆ͅÁ̐ͦͣ͐̃͐͊͗͋̇ͭ̈͂̔́ͭ͏͏̞̯̰̗̲͉̬͔͕͉̖̱̺͉H̗͕͔̘̹̭̏͑ͤ̊̂́͡Ạ̝̝̬̥͖̍͑͒ͮ̀ͧ͒̋͆̇̅ͫ̈́̀͟͢͢͠Hͥͩͤ̆̏̋̿̓͐̇҉̴̀͢҉̣̮̩̹̤̦̦̦͕͖͈ͅA̶̗̫̰̞͖̘͚͍̹̹̲ͯ̑͌͑͌͌̂ͤ̎͗͂̽̚̚͜͝Hͧ͊̈͗̿́̋̋͋̉̓̇̚͢͏̷̦͉̼̜̮͍͈̥̞͝A̵̧͉̯͓̫̫̰̹͉̻̯̥͓̘͎̗̼ͥͪ̾̒͆̑̅̆ͯ͛̽̎͟ͅH̷̨̪͉̜͎̹̤͍͚͍̥͙̣̘̞ͤ̊ͯͨ̍̌̉̉̾͂͌ͪͮ̎̑̔͘ͅA̸̸̢̱̱͎͇̩͒ͧ̅̎͐ͬ̊̽̉ͫ͒͐͒̑̋̅̚̚̕H̡ͩ̋ͮͪͩ̆̽̊̓̃͏̸̶̻͎͚͍̺̮͚̩̮̹̟͚͈̫̲͈͍ͅA̢̭͎͉̭͚͕̜̪͔̦̖͉̞̿̊̆ͥͪ͑͗̅͢͠H̸̏̽͆̅ͦ͛̿ͧͥ҉̻͈̬̦͇͉̩̤̲͇̀͢͟A̸̷̠̣̜͓̗̹͕̹̺̦̘̟̮̲͕̤̫͂̏ͥ̈̔͛͆̓̔̆̚͠Ḧ̙̳̲͍̞͈̒͊̕A̴̭͖̼͕̙͎̭̥̼̬̺͑͛͌̐̏ͩ̎̅̋̈͡ͅͅH̵̵̝͓̙̖̔͑̈́̍̊͗̊̉ͬ̏ͨ̌̊ͨ͢͠͞A͂͗͒͆͒͂̋̆̌̂̓̅ͮ͏̸̵͔̥̭̖̜̻̫̺̬̳͎̗͜Ḧ́̽̽ͪ̔̿̇̈́̋̔̈̄͊̚҉̩͍̜̬̩̱͍̫̞̣͙̺̙̱͔̜͜ͅA̛̗͎̮͇̬̯͙̩͉̻̟̠̦̲̩̰̿̐̽͆ͣͮ͘͢͜ͅͅͅH̽͐͛̈͋ͧ̾̓ͬͦ̐̅̚͏͔̞̫͕̪͚͇͕̹͈̞̬͠͠A̵̛̮̪͓̱̘̥͔͈͇͉̳͖͉̦͛̇ͥ͊̇́ͅH̬͍͈̱ͫ͑̓̍̾̉̈̃͛̏ͯ͗͒̚͜͜Ã̸̢̞͈̖͐̊̐̄̔ͭͫͧ̑͛́H̵̰̹̗̭̯͇̗ͪ̉͗̏ͯͯ́̏͑ͬͣͣ͒́͐͋͢Ą̶̫̳̥̠̗̩͉ͥ͛ͤ̈́͗̏̾ͫ͊͐́͢͟͡Hͨͤ͗̾̃͛͑̉̔̉ͨͯ̊ͨ̌̍̍҉̸̳̹͖͖̝̟̩̘̠̝̥̥͓͍̭̫́A̷̲̲͎͙̹̼͔͙̞̯̎̓̆͋H̦̞̟̙̱͇̞̼͙͓̻̥̭̼̩̘̘ͮͯ̓̅ͪ̐͂̌̐̌́ͪ͒̋̄̌͗̚͠Ä̛̪͙̼̱̜͓̗̗͊͐͛ͮ̇̓ͥ̿ͬ̓̀̓ͩͭ̈ͪͥ̚͡ͅH̸ͪ̐̉ͤ̇ͬͤ͟҉̴̝̙͕̩͔̰͎̝̫̺͕͖͔͇̪͢Ă̧̋ͭ̈́̒ͥ͌͂̽͛͐ͨ͒ͭ҉̧͖̠̗̻͖̭̟̫͇͕̟͇̯̱͓H̷̭͖̥̰͕͓̣̅͗͆ͩ̍̃̄̀́͢A̵̢͖̺͉͍̖̩̦̲̝̦̙̯͎̍ͣ̃ͨ̾̽ͥ͜ͅH̷̢̩̗̳̼̬͍̙̜̝̓̒ͫ̇̽̑͑͌͂͐ͦ͑ͥ̅̇͒̎͘͟͡A̶̡̛̤̜̹̯̮̙̫̤̥̙̤̝̟̯͎͖̹̓͐ͧ̄̚H̛̫̖̯̙̣̻̭̱̦̤͕̱̩̘̖͍̥͒̽̈́ͮ̎̉ͮ̓̌͒͑̐́̊͊̊̈́ͯ́̕͘A͊͌̆̿̉̈́̐ͯ̐̑͋̍ͣ̒ͯ̔̿̑͒̀͏̘̘͔͙̘͔̺̩͎̰̮̱̹̟̯̭̩͙Hͭ̓́͑̒̃̋͛͐͘͏̢͇̣̮̘̮̞̭͓̤̞̗̼͈̮̰̘̕͝A̵̹̬̱͖͖̞̫͇̟͎̙̼̖͖͙̻̖͂̂ͣ̆̿̃̈͐ͅH̛̘̹͇͙̳̞̲͙̪̗̞̰̮̎ͯ̽̌͂̿̌ͦ͐̿ͬ͐̿͐̅̑̑̚͟͡Ạ̙̜̩̥͔̗̱̭͍̩̥̰͙͋̐̑̒ͯ̈́͒ͣ͂̀̕͜ͅH͙͈̣̙̮͍̻͉͉̦͈̙̦̓ͧ̅̌̋̽͂͗ͤͭͩ̑̈́͆ͯ̚̚̕̕͢͜͝A͌ͤ̐ͤͧ͋̈͏̷̙̯̯͈̱H̶̴͍̪̖̮͈̬̯̘͇͎̭̩̦̝̠̩̍̇̉̈̽Ā̢̨̬̞̬̭̥̜̦̪͙͔͍͔ͬ͆̾͛̓͂̽͊ͩ̀̇̓̇̎̇̌̇̀͡H̸̢̡͉̠̩͈̦̹͙͓̲̲͐̄̎͗̌̌̈ͧ̂ͬ̅͒͂ͤ̋̆͐̚͝͝A̴͊ͬͪ͛͒̀̿ͬ̉̈̇ͫ́̉̔ͦ͐̂҉̲͓̖̦̦̠͚͎̮̹H̡̨̟̩̩͍̣̣̙̱̠̳̲̭͎̞͈̤ͧͣ̓ͨ́ͭ̏ͣ̎ͬ̐̃A̸̛͒ͯ̄ͮ͛ͨ̒ͥ̈́͟҉̝̯̜̳͉̼͍̖̦̳̩͚̭̫̫̙͕Ḧ̊̿ͨͧ̓̂ͤ́͆͐̏́͟͏̴͍̩̥͈͚̪͓̺͍̀ͅA̬̰̙͉̼͉̦̱̻̮͍̟̳̣͈ͥ̄ͤͧ͗̿̈ͫ̕̕͝͠H̶͎͙̗̘̲̞̪̗̻̟̼͔̼̭̪̗̱̗͌̓ͪ̔́̃̄ͨ͐ͫͯͯ̅͝Â̧͓̺͍̲͍͕̠̭͈ͣ̋ͫ̃H̸͙̦͙̰ͩͦ̏̌͌ͮ̈͜͜ͅḀ̳̩͉̳͙̺͖͍̣̜̥͔͎̺͕̲̯̝͐̑̽ͥͯ̌ͨ̌ͤ̕͟͡͡Ḫ̨̛̤͉͎͓̫̣̼̺̻̯͚̘ͪ͂ͤ͐ͮ̇̄͗̇̄̔̉ͫͦ̑͌͞A̵͉̤̥̮͚̭̙̍ͥ̎̈́̀͘͢͢H̜̳̝̱̤͚̗͔̤̺̜̤̣̮̣̼̓̾̒̿̂̌ͩ͗̚͘͟ͅͅA̡͐́͛̒̋̾̑̌̔̆ͬ̄̓̎͏̜͔̗̳͓̖͓̮͕̟̼̰̮H̡̢̲̬̺̝̿̏ͮ̅ͮ́̆̾̽̀͡A̛͆͗́ͧͧ̏̓̊̂̕̕͞҉̖͇̼̯̣̮̭̩̜H̶̸̼̞̙̭̼̰̙̗̖̙͚̦̥̟̽͑͊̅̽̂͐ͧ̄̏ͩ͛ͭ̆̀̚͠͝A͋ͧ͒̅ͬ̌̐̀ͣ͒͌͒̀̐́ͣͦͭ̀͡҉҉̲̰͉͕̮͈̦̦͖̰̰̹̺̰͇̙̗̭H̶̦͕͇̠̳̞͌́̃̐͋ͣ̑̌͐ͮͩ͊͊̌͂̀͞ͅḀ̼͓̺̹̠̱̲͈̩̽̂̄ͨͨ̀̑́̋͢ͅH̢͓̬͓͉̣̲̘̪̹͍͔̪̖̹͉͈̪͖̳̍̑̋̒ͩͫͦͥ͟͟͝A̩̙̫͇̲̩̩̠͚͍̰̣̭̩͇̜̖͌ͧ̐ͨ̂ͮͣ͡Hͩͨ͐̉̎͏̷̷̥͙̙̳͔̯̟̭̥͍͕̦͍̬̼̼̤͙͇A͊̿̆̏͌̀̂ͬ͑ͩ̆̅̈ͫ͏̢̤̬͚̳͖̞̞̻̦̺̠͙̲͈͔̗͍͠H̷ͬ̂̿ͪ̓̚̚̚͟҉̡͚̙̙̞̬̱͈͖̖̩̰͔̝͖͕͞Ä́͆̇̐̋͑ͨ͑͋̃́ͯ̒ͥ̓ͤ̍̿͏͓͓̦̠̪͈̩̕͟͜͞H̨̛̜̮͓̫̱͚̼͎ͯ̉̐̕͝Ȁ̸̧͚͍͔͎͉̌̃̈ͪ̔͒͌̕ͅH̢̧̟̦̺̜͐͒ͪ̔ͣ̓̎͌̋̽̅̌ͥ̕͢͝Aͧ͋̉̅̔ͤ̒̑ͫ́̐̓̒̽ͮͥ̎̕͏̵̧̗̬̰̪͕͕̪͙̜̬̮̼̱̠͈̭H̴̹͚͍͒̿ͫ̇ͭ̓̋ͧ̀ͮ̋̒͆͘̕͢͞Ả̷̡̠̝̜̮͕ͫ̋ͩ͋̎̃̑̀̍͐̊ͪ́͜͡H̢͚͔̲̘̯͔͎̺̗̻̠̾ͯ̀ͭ̂͛̾͢ͅȂ̴̩͈̯̘͈̲̼͂ͩ̃ͭͪ͆̅ͯ́̋̊̑ͧ͂͌͟͡H̵̤͈̼̭ͤͮ͂̃ͦͮ̄̍ͨ̈́̓ͤͨ͒ͧ̽̆̚̕͠͠Ā̸̸̊̈́ͪͦͧ͑̆̔̓̽͛͏̧͓̙͈̹͎̱͝H̢͆ͨ̽́ͭ͑̐̑̆ͣͮͨ̉ͮ̑ͧ͂͂͡͡͏̮̣͚̱͔̣͚̠̩̬̘̫̺̺̯̦̺ͅẢ̶̴͕̫̟̻̩͔͇̦̝̥ͮ̌̄ͯͤ̏̿̊̈́ͬͫ̀̚͠Ĥ̴̨̡͉̯̥̳̞̥͖̰͕̦̹̰͓̹͖͕̮̭͗͆̍͆͋̍͡͡Ä́͆ͧ͐͗͗̉ͩ͛ͧ͗͛̆ͥ͏̥̙͉̜̗̩̲́H̶̥̬̬̰̯̫͉̯͓͈̜̏̀̐̌̎ͯ̃ͭ̀̚͝A̴̛̩̩͉̘̪͕̬͓̬̖̻̙̙̯̪̩̲̋̑̋̄͑ͫ̚̚͜͢͡Ḫ̡̡̖̤̯̮̲̦͙͚̝̝͖ͪͩ̃ͪͨ̋ͥ́̈́̽ͬ̑̅̉ͯḀ͉̼̳̻͓̘̱̗̜̟̤̩ͬ̈́́ͪ͒̋̔ͨͥͥ̃ͪ̽͢Ḩ̧͕͉͎̗͈̩̮̜̩̗̪ͦ͛͂͂͛̃͛́Ą̶̬̺͎͓̻͎̙̂̊́͂̕͟H̨̛̖̥̞͓͓͕̩̼̬̳͉̞͙͔̤͕͕̩͋͗̊̽͆̄ͬ̎ͮ̍͛̏̈̃̋ͮ͆̏͘͡Ả̰͉̝̻̹̱̤̖̟̱̞̙͓͎̊̿̒͑̒͆̾̀ͫ̓ͯ͆͝͞ͅH͖̬̘̤͍̣̹̻̹͗̓͋͋̒́̈́ͤ̽͟͟͟Ả̑̉̓ͯ̌̀̀͏̯̹̤͚͕̤̪͚̘̩̮̠̖̫͔͓͡H̘̳͍̣͔̳̦̩͖̱̹̺̱̤͌ͦ͐ͯ̆́́͢A̧̗̖͇̲̩̤̙̳̮̘̮̣̭̬̹͛ͬ̂͋̊̊̅͐̌͛ͮ͜H̸̢̧͑ͫͫ̽ͮ̽́̍͒͗̍͗̍̈́ͯͫͯ͆̀̚͏̯̯͕͖̱Ȧ̴̵̘̬̬͙̹͕̪̫̲̩̟̯͈͓̬̤ͭ̓̃̒ͮͫ̐́ͣ͐͐͆H̐̎̽͑ͧ͐͆͂̆̔̂ͯ̓ͩ̀ͥ̈҉̨̟͍͚̘͉̝̟̀͘Ả̷̢̯͍̙͍͉̩̲̥͎̪͇͙̼̬̲͕̒͛̃̈́ͨͪ͗̋̓ͨ̿͊́̿̃͟H̢̔ͪ̄͛҉̘͉̩͇̻̤̘͚͘͡A̷̷̛͎̠̱͕̟̭̥͈̜͒ͪ̈ͪ͑͗͆̔̐̑̇̒H̶̹̺͙̹̞̱͕̯̩̘̯͔͈͊ͣ̀ͪ́ͅA̸̙̣͉͎ͬͥ̎͆̔ͥͫ͗̋͒̅̋ͥ́̓͂̾H̷͇̪̖͕̬̥͓̘̗̞͑̍̊̃̔͛̅́Ä̷̗̗̠̰̳̦̤͍͚̟͎͓́̍̐͌ͯ͑͐̍ͣ͟͠͝ͅH̶̨͓̬̗̫̟̟̫̻͍̯̹͔͈̰͙̥͖ͭ̏ͨ̃ͦͧͪ̕͡A̡̢̛̪̱̪̩̫̦͑ͩ̉͂̅̍̓̾ͅH̘̺̯̻ͥ̍̀̑ͯ̀̕͢͟͟A̴̖̮̩̠̠̤̫͇̜͚̼̖̰̘̯̺ͪ̓̇ͯ̔ͭͬ̌̓ͭ̋͆̈ͯ̋̌ͮ͒ͥ͢H̡̥͎̗̗̯̹̝̫̮̱̪̰̬̻̲͇̯̼͇̉ͮͧ̌̋ͬͤ̒̓ͬ̓ͮ͌̒̍͗͜A̶̡̛̖̲̣͖ͨ̑̄ͫ͑ͪͫ̔͒̒́̋ͧ̌̐̚H̡̡̛̗̦̭͂̄̋ͨ̓̊ͪͬ̉̿̎̒̋̽͘͠A̴̴̼̦̫̜̰͈̹͎̟̥̺̗̭͔͍ͬ͛̽̅̇̒͑ͦ̑͐̒̋ͮ͐͜͠͠H̨̧͕̯̜̲̝͙͈͗̓͐̊ͪͧ̒̋ͩͭ̽͋ͫ̑͊ͥͤ̌̋͟Ǎ̶̢͋͌͑́͌̀͞҉̫͉͕̹̭̥̜͈͔̫͈̪H͋͒̐ͮ͆̒ͪ͑̏̂ͬͣͨ̋̽̍̚̚͏̴̴͏̵̥̫̬͙͉̹̙̹̜Ḁ̵̡̹̖̰̱̺̮̳̖̙̥̜̮͚̅͑ͬͧ̽̋̄̎ͣ̈́͒͑́͞Ḩ̸̵̨͔̫̦̭̣̞̙̳̳̤̤̲̮̻̹̮ͯ͋͑͘ͅA̡̨͚̼̯̖͔̙̱̣ͣ̈́͗ͩ̽ͭͧ̀́͝H̡̛ͨ́̏ͮ̿̎ͤ̅̋́̔҉̸̜̲̩̭͟A̵̴̼̯̪̘̬ͨͤͩͮ̾ͯ͢͡H̷̵̟̳̭̺̭̝͚̥͎̬̭̺̹ͪͥͤͣͬͯ̓ͯ̓͋ͭͬ̅̄͜͝A̡͚͉̯̭̖̥̹̥̮͍͉̋̑ͤ̆͐̂̽̓̍̂́͢͡Hͧ̒̇̏̇ͬͧ̓̂̚͢͡҉̸̷̮̰̳̝͈̲̟͉̮A̛̼̰̫̟̖̞̹̥̫̬̯͊̈́́͛ͮͯͨ͛̓ͭ̔̀͠͡Ḧ́̾̉̚͏̵̮͕̬̫̖̹̠̜̟̭̗͔͟͝͠Ȧ͛ͪͯ̍̅̄̈́ͥͪ̓̑͏͟͏̸̶̺̱̬̻͈͚͉̦̩̥̯̥̜ͅH̛͂̃̏ͯ͋̒́ͦ̽̄҉͉͇̻̝͕̤̮͖̰̘̮̠̫̪ͅͅA̵̧̨̖̱̜̮͔̞̺̬͍̟̭̞̖̱͕̤̤͖̟͐̽ͫ͌̓ͮ̓ͮ̄ͦ̽͑͑ͩͭ͛́͢H͂͒̓̂͌̄͗͗̇̈́ͦ̄ͫͤ͂͟͏̹͚̞̱̱̳̖͇̩A̢͍̖̫̮̬̺ͪͣ̇̈́͐ͨ̂ͤ̉̅͛ͣͮ̇ͤͦ̉̾́̚͞H͇̲̫̱̜̳̭̤̼̮̝͇̞͇̺͔̭ͤ̓́ͪͫͪ̔͋̔ͨ̃̑͐̔ͩ̚͞͝A̾͑́̽̍ͪ̈́ͩͪ҉̳̘͙̦̫̬͙̘̳̘͙͙͕͙͕̣̗̤͈Hͣ̉̍͆ͩ̋͟͞҉͓͈̦̻̯͔̭̖̖̟̮͜A̢͓̯̮͕͍̞̤̻ͭ͑ͪͩ̃̊̒̋̅̏͘Ḩ̵̨̪͍̱͚̖̯̱̣͚͈̞̮̙̳̗̗̟̥̌̽͂ͩ̄͋̚͜ͅẠ̴̯̱̬̺̗̩̬̱̗͎̬̱̘͕̫̦͖͙ͫͬ̒́̓̃̊̇̈́ͫ͐̒̒͟͝Ḫ̸̯̞̩̯̦̼͕̗̖̖̻̘͚̬͚̃̒ͮ͗͑ͦ͘͝A̢̧̠̲̩̻̩̠̬̱͔̗̪̓̄ͬ̋̀̇̍̑ͮͫ͑́͝ͅH̗͙͔̠̳̳̝̫͍̯̞̜͐̄̑̅͋͗͂ͨͦ͛̕͠A̢̧͚͎͚̼̺̖͔̭̱͚̰̩̲ͯ̾͐ͨͯͭ̍̑͛̊̒̊̈́̿͊͐͘Ḫ̡̜̻̦͚̮͋͛̈́̋̾̾̽̐͑̈́̐͗͗̃̕Aͪ̏̈ͨ͏̨̧͍̬͙̩͍͖̰̲͕̘͕̠͍̻͘ͅH̳̱̭͕̘̹̟̤̬͍̻͎̤̣̖͎̱͙ͦ̉̂̅̀̌ͨ́̕̕͞A̢̝͔̫͇̟̦̠ͤͬ̊͛̊̏̎̉ͫ̐̈́͘ͅH̗̦̜̖̠͔̬͖͓̠̟̝͔̘̼ͥ̎̀̒̂͂̾͑̓ͯͪ̿̓̃ͫ̍̚͢ͅÄ̷̀̆ͧ̅́ͩ͒̎̒͑ͭ̏͏̛̜͖̳̦͕̬̩̙̲Ḩ̷̡̭̫̙̮̗̭̦̮̳̱̺̹̪̘̯̰̙̫̍̽̉̄ͪ́̂ͣͣ́̌̎̀̓̍̾̕͡ͅĄ̬̰̟̝̻̟̪̖̥̻̆̉ͯ̽ͧͣ̄͆̽̔͘H̵͈͖̬͔̲̰̯̤̦̮͍ͤͯͬͬͧ̐̃͂̂ͩͣ̎͋͊͘͟͢ͅͅA̽ͯ̏͌̄̌̓̏̃̐ͭͨ̾͗͗̿̒̽̚҉̸̲̮̞̖̼̠͍̲̝̳̝̥̮̠̠̼́ͅḦ̵̷̨̘̩͙̮̣̦̹̦̹͉̿ͭ͋̍͂̊̍̎̉̓́͝Åͪ̅͑͂̇ͤ͛̋̃͛̀ͪ̚̚̚̚͜҉̴͎̝̺̼̝̺̝͕̙̖̩̗̜̠̯H̵̿̉ͮͩ͌̀́҉͖͍̰̣̯̱͙͈̣͉͚̜̜ͅA̡̛̝͕̤͇̦̾̂͗̉̀̎͌̿ͯ̌ͮ̈́̓̈ͦ͐̏̚H̉̾͑̐̂̇͆͊̇͊ͧ̾̄̀͟͏͎̳̖͚̣̦͓̺͟A̸̺̥̳̰̻̭̐̓̃̈́̌͌̃̃̅ͧ̋ͬ̔̌͊̓́H̶̡̜̠̣̫̯̻͚̻̲͈̰̟̩̜͚̦̹̯͋ͤ̑ͅȦ̂͂̓̐͋̑̀ͧ̇͒́͏̧̳̮̫̩̟̕͢H̶ͤ͌͒̌̋͊͐ͮ͢͏̬̮̟̰̱̜͍͎͙Âͭͪ̂ͥ̆͂̀̐͑ͬ̿ͩ̌̏̅͡҉̠̭̖̯͉̠̲͉̖͔͢Hͯͯ͗̃ͫ̾͆̑ͮͬ̈ͤͮ̉̾̐̇̍̓҉̷̻̟̖̭͔̀ͅẠ̶̡̟̠̬̰̳̼̓ͥ̋͐̑̆̏̂͌̂ͭ̊ͤ̾͌̌͋͌́̚͜H̸ͫ͋͋͋̐̑̋͂̊̃ͬ͜҉̳͔̟͖̲͍͖̲̘͟ͅA̷̡̨̛̤̲̦͚̩̱̠͚̞̹̳̔́͛ͭ͂͐ͤ̾̃ͤ̌̈̊ͤͥ̚H̵̡̺̹̖̯͖̬̞̓͌̃̐͠A̤̹̺ͣ̈́̋̽͋̌̑̾ͤ̈́͑ͪ̐ͣ̿͢͜Ḩ̶̴͚̩̹̣̤̙̘̘̘͙̩͖̼̩̋ͤͨͬ̆̄̽̂́ͪͤͥ͆ͯ̎̎͝À̡̨̛̙̫̘̝͕̦͙̳̺̤̫̯͈̂͌ͧ̈́̑͛ͫͫ̊͐̆̎ͭ̉̚͞ͅH̯̰̘̭̠͙̤̠͇ͫͥ́́̏̒̕͡Ȁ̶̵̜͓̼̙̙̤̬͙͕̗̬͂̆̓H̸̛̯̤̰̱̰̼̱̪̯̠͎͓̠̲͓̙͆ͧ̆ͨ̓ͪ̉ͣͨͮ͋̚͢A̵ͤ̐͗́̆̾̾͋̑̃̎͗͏̦̳̦̩̫̤̪̦͚͙͙̗̹͚̰̬ͅͅͅH̡̦̝̹̣̜̦̰̘̞̤̬͚̙͔͉ͬ̉ͯ̀ͭ̂͒́͘͜A̴̳͉̲̼͖͖͈̖̟̜̗͔̺͇̪̳̣ͨ̄̈̀ͫͦ̿̆̊̈́͡͡ͅH̢̩͚̭͔͉̝͍͎͈̦̰̼̟̃̊̃̈̀͛͊͛͞ͅA̷̴͉͔̹̝̦̞͕̐͋̊͛ͩ͡ͅH̅̐ͯ͒́͒̒̏͆̏̀̕͏̼͍͉̣̘̱̭̹͎̩̪̣͓̩̯̕A̵̬̰͚̥̺ͣ̀͆ͦ̿ͯ̃ͮͥ͢͟H̸̷̨͍̭̻̜̲͈̫̠͍̎ͨ̔͌̄͆͗ͨ̽ͮ́̓̃́͢A̴̸̱͉͉̬͛͑͐͆͗ͭ̆̄̅̂ͥ̏͒͆ͦ̕͜͢H̴͓͍̳̙̘̥̪͍̟̟̘͖̹͉̭̱̥̓͐ͪ̄͆̒ͩ̔́͝ͅA̼̺̱̞̳͖͕̼̜̳̝͂͊̎́̂͗͜͡ͅH̷̵͚̲̳̖̜͚͍͕͔̲̜ͩͥ́͐̍ͬ̌͐̌ͤ̒͐́͢͟A̛͕̟̥̜̝̟̬̝̻̱̻͙̗̘̦̞̩̿ͥͪ̄ͫ͋ͩͨͩ̕͝͠H̷̵̩̺̣̭̹̯̱͓̣͎̙͚͚͕͎̋̉̑̈ͥ͋ͪ̽͑̈̆͗̑̀̑̀̚̕͝A̢̨̦̪̰̼̫̥̻̅̐ͯ̈̐ͫͧ̈́̆ͯͯ͢ͅH̛͛̀̿̽ͣ̍̔ͧ̾̎́̋ͥ̍́ͫ̚͘͞҉̵̫͍̣̝͇̰̩̪̥͔̞Aͦ͛͛ͮͧͫ͋̈̃͏͖̫̱̝̜͚͉̜̱͔̺͚͚̱͖̩̟ͅH̴̝̼̖̭̞̾ͫ̀́̊ͭ̋̅́͢Aͨ́̂̃̇̋̿̈̑̒͂̈́͐̓͑͑̃̀̚̕͏̱͔̳̭̞͇̟̠̟̝̗̙̦͓̯H̴̷̶̠͍̟̮ͧͦ͒͑͂͛͑̕͘A̷̭̮̫̗͈͖̹̓͋̐̍H̷̷̰͖̟̳̣̞̜̥͍̘̼͕̅̍ͨ̓̈́ͤ͋̋̓͝ͅA̺̳͓̞͒̑ͮ̎̈́ͫ̏ͣ̌̈ͤ͋̆ͧ̆ͨ̓͞H̷̥͓͓̪͉̰͇̭̜͌́͋̏͐̉ͧ͒͟A̸̯̦̻̠̳̗̞̮͈͂̉͋͒̾͞H̪̜̯̲̫̮̗̺̖͓̭̘̙̎͗ͫ̀͡ͅA̵ͮ͊̌ͬ̂ͣ̓͑̓́͡͏̰͈̱̹̩̕Hͬͦ͊̿̌͑͌̐͐ͬ̃ͤͧ̍̽҉̘͈͙̮͖̲̙̲̭̠̀͜A̷̵̧̧͕̮͍̯̫̳̩̘͙̳̭̪̗̣̳͖̾̎͌͒͋̽ͤͪ̔ͤͯ̈͝H̻̙͈̺̾͒ͫ͒̒͆̐̿ͨ̅̆͑ͤ͒͘͟A̶̹̬̪͓͔̫̬̠̙̭̥͎̬̰̟ͦ̍̿͋̒͟ͅH̴͖͎̼̘̤̞͔̯̜͓̜̞̒̋̒ͦͧ͆̊ͧͬ́͌͐̏̓̉̕Ă̺͔̩̖̺̘̣̪̳̘̲͋ͣ̾̉̒̉̄̓ͬ̽̈́͘͟͞H̷̵͔͙̱̼͈̼̘̭͙̥͚͔̯͗ͪͣͦͪͭ̏ͩ͒̆͌̆ͫͣ̈͂ͩ͐̀͠A͆͋ͤ͒ͯͩ̄̄ͯ̊̽̿̔͜͡͏̷̢͕̭̺̻̹̱̣̗͔͖̞Ḧ́͂̋͆ͤ̃͗͗ͤ́̚҉҉̹͔̥̦̬̗͉̼̖͓͖̝̯̹̠̻̗͠A̵̩̹̮̬͎͈̯͓͍̮̣͔̠̒ͣ̍̔͆ͩ͟͜Ḩ̓̉ͧ̾ͮͣͤ̓̔̆̽ͭ̇͒̚͢҉̯̩̥͈̱̝͖̦̗̤͔Ą̖͎̥̝͓͕̲̘̠̤̞͆̃̽̓ͬͣ͑̈́̐̍̍͐̚͡͡͠͡ͅ

...

...

I wake up, my eyes snapping open with a horrified glint. My body rolls around, while my mouth lets out silent groans of agony. My head aches, my stomach is in pain...

...And my hands have claws; centimeter-long razor sharp blades extending off my fingers.