#aeontale

I have no idea what da heck I'm drawing...

To echo the words of @undertaleauoc, Mistral is "open for use" without the need to request permission from the creator (me) though I’d like to be tagged and credited still. Mistral Formerly named: Sans Age: 10 to the power of 100 years (technically a little more than that by now, but the number is so huge that it's no longer relevant.) Gender: Male Appearance: Appears much like Classic Sans, except for the silvery-white crystalline formations growing all over his body. These can get quite large if he hasn’t removed them in a while, and are often quite sharp to anyone with flesh instead of bone. He makes an effort to keep the Kenón from growing up over his head and face, or from completely encasing his body, but it's difficult to keep up with since it grows faster whenever he happens to be in the Void itself. He wears a long brown overcoat, gloves, and long black trousers, mostly in effort to hide the Kenón as much as possible or keep the sharp points from cutting people by accident. He also keeps a red bandana around his neck, something given to him by Papyrus. His eyes never went back to their original state after the Void-Sickness. Instead of dark hollows with a white iris, they seem to be a pale grey, like a well of deep nothingness. Backstory: Mistral’s Universe is based upon the question “What would happen if the Human just never stopped the Resets, but went on forever?” And the resulting Tale that followed was one of mindless repetitions for time out of mind as the Human would Reset in order to prevent the Underground from being destroyed. Eventually the human, who was no longer human, stopped when Sans suggested a different means to preserve their Universe without killing. This Underground has a deep history of worship and lore that surrounds their Angel, and Sans played the role of Judge, a historical job where someone representing the Angel’s Justice would be called upon to make an absolute Judgement upon anyone or anything. The King called upon him to bring his judgement upon the entire Underground for their part in everything. Formerly a scientist under his Uncle Gaster, he helped come up with the “Solution” which the entire Underground was inoculated with to help them remember beyond Resets. He himself was a victim of the Void poisoning like that which affected Gaster’s Followers and was only saved from being wiped to a blank slate by Gaster’s efforts. A fragment of Kenón (Void-stone) and determination was placed in his soul, causing the crystals to spread from it. In later years as the Underground thrived despite the Resets, he pushed himself to get another degree, this time in psychology, and eventually became a practicing therapist/psychologist (as well as the Underground’s willing delivery boy. He liked being able to see and talk to people all the time, and get to know things.) Upon the destruction of his Universe he was thrown into the Void with his Uncle Gaster, where they were rescued by the mysterious River Person. They met with Ink!Sans who explained the Multiverse and gave them the means to travel it. Now they travel from Universe to Universe, or sometimes wander the Void itself, or the Anti-Void. Gaster (now named Majuscule) is searching for his children, and Sans (now named Mistral) is helping while searching for the Ship his brother escaped with and whatever survivors of his people there might still be. Personality: Mistral is old. Though he was in a mindless forgetful repetitive state for much of the Resets, and has few memories of his own childhood beyond what Papyrus reminded him of, he is significantly mentally older than most of the other Monsters from his Universe. The determination in his soul (along with the Kenón) makes him very strong willed and much more powerful than he was before. It also gives him a minor energy boost. His years as a scientist specializing in studies of the Soul and Physics, as well as his later degree in psychology and practice as a therapist, make him a fairly discerning person who is easily approachable and can talk about a number of different subjects with ease. Despite his actions during the Genocide Routes, he is a much more mentally stable person (possibly one of the most stable Sanses out there from what I see) and is very much a pacifist, refusing violence altogether and choosing to let his words and mind guide him out of trouble, or his teleportation to let him escape danger. Because of his refusal to consider physical violence, even in his own defense, his skill in using fighting magic has atrophied. He can no longer summon the blasters at all, and his bone attacks are weaker. His teleportation on the other hand is much stronger and he can do it more often without tiring too much. The other effects of his refusal to fight means that he must proactively avoid confrontation whenever possible. Mistral uses his knowledge of how people think and act to guide his interactions with others, putting even Monsters from the Fell Universes at ease with well timed and thought out humorous comments, as well as just generally being willing to listen and try to see from the point of view of other people. He can tell puns, but they usually sound a bit forced, like he memorized them somewhere and was just waiting for a point to use them. Very rarely he’ll come up with the perfect one on the spot and be absolutely thrilled with himself. More often he uses dry humor, throwaway lines, or Hyperbole.

His willingness to try and defuse the tension caused by aggressive Monsters he’s dealing with can sometimes backfire on him and serves to make the Monster even angrier and more violent. Mistral will then flee, not wanting to fight them, but often marking himself as guilty or suspicious in the process when this happens with an authority figure who has confronted him for his presence.

The Kenón crystal growing all over his body tends to freak people out as well, which is why he hides it as much as he can beneath the overcoat, gloves, and bandana.

Like all skeletons of his Universe, Mistral has a great knowledge of fonts and writing systems, punctuation marks, ciphers, and typography. It is a very important subject to them as it very closely ties with how they see themselves, their identity as a person. This may be rather strange to skeletons from other Universes who do not share this background. A similar problem comes when skeletons from other Universes find out how strongly he and the Monsters of his world believe in the mythical Angel of Mount Ebbot and often pray to them or swear by them (or use “Angel” as a swear).

He’s also very interested in the concept of Identity and how it can change over time or be altered by events in your life, and how names connect to the concept of identity.

Can I use Mistral in my comic/story/animation/etc?: Sure. He’s a wandering type character, so it's likely he’ll show up in countless Universes and places all over while searching for his brother and his missing cousins. Sometimes he’ll be with Gaster and sometimes not.

One thing to note is that his story will have a continuation, so if in your story you detail events that involve him beyond just a brief meeting, chat, or background character… Just be aware that it's probably not going to be canon to the story I’m planning for him (though if we take other Multiverses into account it could be canon elsewhere).

I would like to insist that you tag and credit me on his use (Credit is good. Tagging me makes it so I can come see your wonderful creations).

Can I ship Mistral with this other character/characters?: Yeah, why not?. Canonically he’s aesexual and only very passingly interested in the idea of romantic relationships. But sure, ship him with whoever you like. Just know that it's not canon to this Multiverse.

While I would still like to be tagged in stuff that involves him. I know I can’t stop nsfw art/writing and other things of that nature from happening, much as I might like to. But be warned, If I see it or am tagged with that, or am sent asks of that... I will block you. Fontcest, Incest ships, child ships, or smut in general will all get you blocked instantly.

Canon height and weight: 4-5 feet high (same as Classic Sans). Weight was trickier. He’s a skeleton. A human skeleton is only about 15% of your body weight. So classic is probably somewhere around 16 or so pounds. But Mistral is covered by continually growing crystalline structures of Kenón. Since the crystal is heavy but spread out and somewhat kept under control, it probably only doubles his weight, making him 32 pounds.

Canon strength: Mistral isn’t a fighter. His attacks are weak because his desire to actually fight is nonexistent, even if he has to defend himself or others. But his actual physical strength, as opposed to his magical attacks, sees a significant increase to that of your normal Sans. The Kenón crystals actually increase his defense by making his bones stronger and more crack resistant, and his self healing is well equipped to deal with most breaks, though they’re still quite painful.

He also has increased endurance for longer physical or magical activities so long as combat or confrontation isn’t part of it.

Since he weighs more, he can’t jump as high as a Sans who weighs less (not that it's a huge difference. He’s only 32 pounds. Plus his strength can mostly make up for it by pushing himself off harder when jumping.)

Is it okay if I draw him with another gender, age, height, or sexuality?: Go for it. Have fun. Tag and credit me. But remember that it’s not canon to THIS Multiverse that I’m working in.

Canon Birthday?: September 16th (though he hasn’t celebrated in a LONG time. He probably doesn’t remember his last actual birthday party. Papyrus might though…)

Font?: Used to be Comic Sans. But now it's Mistral (upper and lowercase).

Original AU: Aeontale by

a_river_is_a_liminal_space

(or the-river-person. basically… me)

Wind swept through the red grass like a wave upon the sea, sending ripples down the slopes of the endless hills. In the lowest valleys the grass vanished into a soft white fog, making the hilltops seem as if they were detached from the earth and floating through an ocean of clouds. Sans gazed around in wonder, while also having to shield his eyes a little. Above them the sky was a thousand blending shades of purple, everything from a deep angry bruise to a very soft lilac. At the edge of the Horizon was the sun, and from here it looked a very deep red color, and though it wasn’t terribly bright, he still had to shield his eyes. It seemed that he needed some time for his eyes to properly adjust to seeing the surface in all of its overwhelming brightness after living in the muted and shadowed Underground for all his life. Well for lifetimes on end, really. Mouth open wide, and eye lights nearly pinpricks in shock, Gaster too appeared to be too stunned for words at the sight of this world. Sans knew that his uncle had been around to see the Surface of their own Universe, and judging by Gaster’s reaction, it was nothing at all like this. The River Person had taken them to this place because he said it was still a relatively safe Universe to visit for a little while. Comfortably seated in his ferry boat, the River Person didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere soon, so they’d opted to explore for a bit while staying in sight. Arriving at another Universe was just as bizarre as leaving one had been. It was as if there was a reflective orb in the distance, only when you got closer it wasn’t you that it was reflecting, but a place. And if you got close enough it was as if the reflection warped and twisted itself so that it swallowed you and you were sitting in another Universe as smoothly as if you’d landed your boat at the docks. Actually the ferryboat itself was sitting in the middle of the red grass, and looked perfectly natural there as if it were supposed to sail across the sea of red grass and plants instead of up and down a river. Out in the distance the world got even stranger. To the right, he wasn’t sure what the compass direction was because the red sun appeared to be circling the horizon instead of crossing overhead in an arc, he could see bright glow that spanned the whole edge of the sky in that direction, as if the area was filled with light. And to the left the sky seemed to get darker and darker until the horizon that way was shadowed and still. “Pretty, isn’t it?” “Yes,” he breathed, still trying to take it all in. The next moment he leaped away in shock as he realized the comment had come from someone who had unexpectedly been standing beside him. It was a skeleton, somewhat similar to himself in appearance but not quite. Wearing brown pants that might have been tucked in overalls by the green straps that were sticking out from one side of the waist, a white shirt, and a long brown scarf... the skeleton’s clothing alone made a strong first impression of him. But more interesting than that were the splotch of black ink that coated the bottom right side of his jaw and the enormous paint brush that he carried on his back like a sheathed sword. Over his chest was a belt holding a series of tiny phials with heart shaped stoppers, each phial held a different colored liquid within, and altogether and in order they formed a kind of rainbow pattern. Finally, around his neck and hanging down his back was an incredibly long scarf of some brown fabric. The Skeleton was grinning at him, mischief dancing in his eye sockets, which Sans had only just realized contained some odd shapes. In his left eye, the pupil was shaped like a bright, five pointed, golden star (☆), twinkling merrily as if to say “I’m excited!” to all the world. And in his right eye the pupil took the shape of... and this left Sans feeling more bewildered than anything else, a small purple 7. But even as he watched the pupils changed shape, and again, and again. A spiral (๑), a triangle border with nothing inside (△), a check mark (✓), an eroteme (?), a small crescent moon (☽), a pair of squiggly lines that might have been either water or a double tilde (≈), a silcrow (§), a percontation point (⸮), and a very small umbrella (☂). “Hullo!” said the skeleton. “I’m Ink! Guardian of the Multiverse and Protector of AUs!” Gaster, who had turned around to see what Sans had been reacting to, was examining the newcomer with something akin to professional curiosity. “AUs?” he asked, tilting his skull slightly to the side. “Alternate Universes,” clarified Ink. “And parallel ones. And pretty much any other kind of universe that springs up. So... now that I’ve introduced myself, who are you two?” Other universes, the thought was a little frightening. Sure he’d heard Gaster practically wax poetic on the subject numerous times, and here he was standing in another universe entirely. But it was different hearing someone else talk about them existing, as if they’d seen them with their own eyes. An entire multiverse full of them. And if Ink was truly the Guardian of that Multiverse and every universe inside of it, then he must be a really important person. “I’m Sans-” he started to say, not sure whether there was special protocol for introducing yourself to a Multiverse Guardian, but Ink was already cutting him off, flapping his hand impatiently at them. “No no no. There are way too many Sanses and Gasters floating about. Even I’m a Sans. We like to use... well I guess you’d call them nicknames. They help keep us from getting confused. More confused. Some people use the name of their AU, others ” Somewhat at a loss, Sans turned to look at Gaster, who only shrugged unhelpfully. Well alright then. A nickname huh? His thoughts raced back years and years, decades, centuries, all the way to that very first therapy session with Doctor Whimsol. She’d suggested that he didn’t have to be a Sans if he didn’t feel like one. For a while he’d toyed with various other names, mostly Fonts in the style of Skeleton naming conventions. But he’d never really made anything of it. Perhaps one of the ones he’d liked would do? Something that suited him the way that he was now. He’d changed a great deal since then. There was no way anyone would think of him in formal terms, even now. But he was a bit more serious, even though he tried to stay approachable. He wasn’t suffering from depression and guilt, and he was a lot more active than he had been. So something light-hearted but serious, informal like, with a sense of movement.... It came to him and he grinned suddenly. “Mistral,” he informed the Guardian of the Multiverse. “I’m Mistral.“ Looking intrigued, Ink nodded enthusiastically. “It suits you! A little rough of a font, sort of like brush writing, but with this... um... crystal stuff on your bones, it really works.” Oh yeah, Sans had forgotten about the Kenón still growing on him. It had sped up its growth a bit in the Void, which made sense because they were already connected. Small spikes of silvery-grey crystal were now easily seen growing up from the collar of his shirt and from his sleeves, and tiny lumps were beginning to form under his usual overcoat that betrayed the crystals growing underneath. “I think,” said Gaster suddenly, “That I would like to be known as Majuscule.” Sans stared at him. “You want to be named after Capitalized Letters?” he asked incredulously. It wasn’t a font. Though they weren’t really required to stick to those if they truly didn’t want to. But it was related enough that it was odd that Gaster would want to choose that of all things for a name. The smile the scientist gave him was a smug one. “When I use the Wingdings Sign variant it really doesn’t differentiate between Minuscule and Maguscule symbols like the font does in physical writing. And since I cannot speak it out loud and adjust the volume of my speech, it is as if I am saying everything in capitalized letters, constantly speaking with maximum intensity all the time.” Oh Angel, of course Gaster would choose something that convoluted. Sans groaned and rolled his eyes, surprisingly Ink only looked amused and actually giggled, his eyes flitting between an octothorp followed immediately by an S (#S) , an ecphoneme (!), an on/off symbol, and an asterisk (*). “I’m guessing you guys are new travelers to the Multiverse. That means you’re the ones I was looking for. You see, I felt a Universe die recently, and I went to go protect it from whatever was causing it to be destroyed. But it was dying on its own, of old age. I’ve never seen a Universe do that before, reach its natural ending. Then I found a trail in the Void, the sort of paths the River Folk make when they travel, and I knew that someone must have escaped before everything fell apart. And well... here you are!” Ink smirked and stuck out his tongue in a sort of “blep” way. Somewhere in the back of his head, Sans couldn’t help but notice that the tongue was rainbow hued. But now that he was reminded, he had more important questions. “Did you see anyone else?” He asked. “A ship in the Void? Any survivors? Papyrus? Well, my Papyrus anyway. He’s the Captain of the Royal Guard. And there were a lot of people on the ship before it fell into the Void. Please, if you’ve seen anything...” He trailed off hopefully. Ink’s eyes had suddenly become two ecphonemes (!). “Wait, there are more than just you two?” asked the Guardian excitedly. “It’s pretty rare we get more than a Sans or a Gaster. For some reason the Sanses seem to be inclined to go traveling more than others, though we do get Papyruses and Gasters here and there. But I don’t recall seeing a ship...hmmm.” Then Ink reached back and pulled on his scarf. Upon closer inspection, Sans could see all kinds of writing on it, scribbles and notes. Ink was using the thing as a planner. For a moment Ink squinted down at the scarf, searching through all the notes. They could see his mouth moving as he silently muttered some of the reminders he was reading. At last he looked up. “Nope, sorry. I haven’t seen any ship. But I’ll make a note to keep an eye out for one. I definitely don’t want to miss seeing that. Oh, but I did write down something else. I found this where your universe used to be.” And digging into his pocket, Ink produced something that was difficult to see. It was like a point, but without any width, depth, surface, or length. It flickered strangely and Sans heard Gaster’s intake of breath behind him. “There it is!” said the Scientist as he stepped forward, reaching for the thing. “The last fragment. The final percentage. What bit of me are you hiding in such a small form?” His hand closed around it and he closed his eyes, looking triumphant and relieved. Just as quickly he snapped them back open again in alarm. “Sans!” “What?” “I had three assistants, Sans. Three! Not four! I don’t know who Goner actually is!” * * * The Tem had managed to push the wreckage away from itself, freeing its trapped hind leg. Nobody else was in this part of the Ship, mostly being occupied in repair work or attempts to plan and reorganize. He’d volunteered to come out here and replace the spark plugs in this area because it would make it easier to get away from people for a while. A low creak, like metal under strain, made him turn. It was similar to the sound he’d heard earlier before the ceiling fell. This ship had taken a lot of damage in the crash, it was no wonder it was all falling apart at the seams. There was no one there. Yeah, probably just more infrastructure damage from the crash that needed to be repaired. Turning back brought him face to face with the grey torso of Goner, who was looming over him with his pale whitish-grey eyes. “Your name is Bob, right?” Said Goner in an expressionless tone. It wasn’t really a question exactly. More like a statement with a question tacked onto the end like an afterthought. Suddenly Goner’s expression seemed almost sly, sinister. Perhaps it was just the lighting, but the Tem shrank from the Monster as he leaned forward. “My name is Goner, I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

❄︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ♐︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎⬧︎︎ ❑︎︎◆︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎🙵●︎︎⍓︎︎📬︎︎ 💧︎︎□︎︎ ❑︎︎◆︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎🙵●︎︎⍓︎︎📬︎︎ ✋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎ ●︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⬥︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎ ✋︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎ ♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ 🙰□︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎📬︎︎ [T︎i︎m︎e︎ f︎l︎o︎w︎s︎ q︎u︎i︎c︎kl︎y︎.︎ S︎o︎ q︎u︎i︎c︎kl︎y︎.︎ I︎t︎ h︎a︎s︎ b︎e︎e︎n︎ a︎ l︎o︎n︎g︎ w︎h︎i︎l︎e︎ s︎i︎n︎c︎e︎ I︎ h︎a︎v︎e︎ m︎a︎d︎e︎ a︎n︎ e︎n︎t︎r︎y︎ i︎n︎ t︎h︎i︎s︎ jo︎u︎r︎n︎a︎l︎.︎]

💧︎︎□︎︎ ❍︎︎◆︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎◻︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ 🕆︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♑︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎📪︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎ ♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ■︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ◆︎︎■︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎♑︎︎■︎︎♓︎︎⌘︎︎♋︎︎♌︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎ ♐︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ◻︎︎●︎︎♋︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎ □︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎📬︎︎

[S︎o︎ m︎u︎c︎h︎ h︎a︎s︎ h︎a︎p︎p︎e︎n︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ t︎h︎e︎ U︎n︎d︎e︎r︎g︎r︎o︎u︎n︎d︎,︎ i︎t︎ i︎s︎ n︎e︎a︎r︎l︎y︎ u︎n︎r︎e︎c︎o︎g︎n︎i︎z︎a︎b︎l︎e︎ f︎r︎o︎m︎ t︎h︎e︎ p︎l︎a︎c︎e︎ i︎t︎ o︎n︎c︎e︎ w︎a︎s︎.︎]

❄︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♐︎︎♓︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎ ⬧︎︎♓︎︎♑︎︎■︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♍︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ☝︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ❄︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎📪︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎ ♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♍︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎ □︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎ ♌︎︎□︎︎□︎︎🙵⬧︎︎📬︎︎ ☠︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ❖︎︎□︎︎♓︎︎♎︎︎📫︎︎⬧︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎🙵■︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ 💧︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎ ♐︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ⬧︎︎◆︎︎♍︎︎♍︎︎◆︎︎❍︎︎♌︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⍓︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎♐︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♏︎︎⌧︎︎◻︎︎□︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ❒︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎♓︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎📬︎︎ ☞︎︎♏︎︎⬥︎︎ 💣︎︎□︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎⬥︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♓︎︎●︎︎●︎︎📪︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎ ⬧︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ □︎︎■︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎◻︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎♐︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬥︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♎︎︎📬︎︎

[T︎h︎e︎ f︎i︎r︎s︎t︎ s︎i︎g︎n︎ o︎f︎ the c︎h︎a︎n︎g︎e︎s︎ t︎o︎ c︎o︎m︎e︎ w︎a︎s︎ n︎o︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎ G︎r︎a︎n︎d︎ T︎r︎i︎a︎l︎,︎ a︎s︎ i︎t︎ i︎s︎ n︎o︎w︎ b︎e︎i︎n︎g︎ c︎a︎l︎l︎e︎d︎ i︎n︎ o︎u︎r︎ h︎i︎s︎t︎o︎r︎y︎ b︎o︎o︎ks︎.︎ N︎o︎r︎ w︎a︎s︎ i︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎ v︎o︎i︎d︎-︎s︎i︎c︎kn︎e︎s︎s︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ S︎a︎n︎s︎ f︎i︎n︎a︎l︎l︎y︎ s︎u︎c︎c︎u︎m︎b︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ y︎e︎a︎r︎s︎ a︎f︎t︎e︎r︎ b︎e︎i︎n︎g︎ e︎x︎p︎o︎s︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ t︎h︎e︎ r︎a︎d︎i︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎.︎ F︎e︎w︎ M︎o︎n︎s︎t︎e︎r︎s︎ a︎r︎e︎ e︎v︎e︎n︎ a︎w︎a︎r︎e︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ h︎e︎ w︎a︎s︎ e︎v︎e︎r︎ i︎l︎l︎,︎ t︎h︎o︎u︎g︎h︎ s︎o︎m︎e︎ h︎a︎v︎e︎ c︎o︎m︎m︎e︎n︎t︎e︎d︎ o︎n︎ h︎i︎s︎ a︎p︎p︎e︎a︎r︎a︎n︎c︎e︎ a︎f︎t︎e︎r︎w︎a︎r︎d︎.︎]

💣︎︎⍓︎︎ ♑︎︎◆︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ♍︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎♎︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎◻︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ □︎︎◆︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎📬︎︎ 😐︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⬄︎︎■︎︎📪︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎ ♑︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎⍓︎︎ ♍︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ♌︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎ ♐︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♏︎︎⌧︎︎◻︎︎□︎︎⬧︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ■︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ⬧︎︎⧫︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♋︎︎ ❖︎︎□︎︎♓︎︎♎︎︎ ♐︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎📪︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬧︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ♑︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎■︎︎ □︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬧︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎📬︎︎ ✋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎■︎︎🕯︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎📬︎︎ 👌︎︎◆︎︎⧫︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ◻︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♑︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♑︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎ □︎︎■︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎ ♌︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎📬︎︎ 💧︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎ ♍︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎ ❒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ⬧︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎◻︎︎📪︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎□︎︎ ❍︎︎◆︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♋︎︎ ⬧︎︎🙵♏︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎□︎︎■︎︎📪︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎⍓︎︎ ♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎♌︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎📬︎︎ 💧︎︎□︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♎︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎♍︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♌︎︎●︎︎◆︎︎♏︎︎ 🙰♋︎︎♍︎︎🙵♏︎︎⧫︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⬧︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ♋︎︎ ●︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♌︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎■︎︎ ♍︎︎□︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♌︎︎●︎︎♋︎︎♍︎︎🙵 ⧫︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎📬︎︎ ☜︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ♑︎︎□︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♐︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♑︎︎●︎︎□︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ □︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♋︎︎ ♌︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎ ♋︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ■︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎🙵📬︎︎ ❄︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♌︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎📪︎︎ ⬥︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎ ♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎📪︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ●︎︎♓︎︎🙵♏︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ♋︎︎ ♑︎︎♓︎︎♐︎︎⧫︎︎ ♐︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♌︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎ ♋︎︎◻︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎ □︎︎◆︎︎⧫︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ♋︎︎ ⬧︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎♍︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♐︎︎📬︎︎

[M︎y︎ g︎u︎e︎s︎s︎e︎s︎ c︎o︎n︎c︎e︎r︎n︎i︎n︎g︎ h︎o︎w︎ h︎e︎ w︎o︎u︎l︎d︎ r︎e︎s︎p︎o︎n︎d︎ t︎o︎ t︎h︎e︎ t︎r︎e︎a︎t︎m︎e︎n︎t︎ t︎u︎r︎n︎e︎d︎ o︎u︎t︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ c︎o︎r︎r︎e︎c︎t︎.︎ K︎e︎n︎ó︎n︎,︎ t︎h︎e︎ s︎i︎l︎v︎e︎r︎y︎ g︎r︎e︎y︎ c︎r︎y︎s︎t︎a︎l︎ b︎o︎r︎n︎ f︎r︎o︎m︎ t︎h︎e︎ e︎x︎p︎o︎s︎u︎r︎e︎ o︎f︎ n︎a︎t︎u︎r︎a︎l︎ s︎t︎o︎n︎e︎ t︎o︎ a︎ v︎o︎i︎d︎ f︎i︎s︎s︎u︎r︎e︎,︎ h︎a︎s︎ s︎l︎o︎w︎l︎y︎ g︎r︎o︎w︎n︎ o︎v︎e︎r︎ h︎i︎s︎ s︎o︎u︎l︎.︎ I︎t︎ h︎a︎s︎n︎'︎t︎ h︎u︎r︎t︎ h︎i︎m︎.︎ B︎u︎t︎ a︎s︎ t︎i︎m︎e︎ p︎a︎s︎s︎e︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎ c︎r︎y︎s︎t︎a︎l︎s︎ b︎e︎g︎a︎n︎ t︎o︎ g︎r︎o︎w︎ o︎n︎ h︎i︎s︎ v︎e︎r︎y︎ b︎o︎n︎e︎s︎.︎ S︎o︎m︎e︎ o︎f︎ t︎h︎e︎ c︎r︎y︎s︎t︎a︎l︎s︎ c︎a︎n︎ b︎e︎ r︎a︎t︎h︎e︎r︎ s︎h︎a︎r︎p︎,︎ n︎o︎t︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ i︎t︎ m︎a︎t︎t︎e︎r︎s︎ t︎o︎o︎ m︎u︎c︎h︎ t︎o︎ a︎ s︎ke︎l︎e︎t︎o︎n︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎y︎ a︎r︎e︎ v︎e︎r︎y︎ n︎o︎t︎i︎c︎e︎a︎b︎l︎e︎.︎ S︎o︎ h︎e︎ h︎a︎s︎ d︎i︎s︎c︎a︎r︎d︎e︎d︎ h︎i︎s︎ b︎l︎u︎e︎ ja︎c︎ke︎t︎ a︎n︎d︎ s︎h︎o︎r︎t︎s︎ f︎o︎r︎ a︎ l︎o︎n︎g︎e︎r︎ b︎r︎o︎w︎n︎ c︎o︎a︎t︎ a︎n︎d︎ b︎l︎a︎c︎k t︎r︎o︎u︎s︎e︎r︎s︎.︎ E︎v︎e︎n︎ g︎o︎i︎n︎g︎ a︎s︎ f︎a︎r︎ a︎s︎ w︎e︎a︎r︎i︎n︎g︎ g︎l︎o︎v︎e︎s︎ o︎v︎e︎r︎ h︎i︎s︎ h︎a︎n︎d︎s︎ a︎n︎d︎ a︎ b︎a︎n︎d︎a︎n︎n︎a︎ a︎r︎o︎u︎n︎d︎ h︎i︎s︎ n︎e︎c︎k.︎ T︎h︎e︎ b︎a︎n︎d︎a︎n︎n︎a︎,︎ w︎h︎i︎c︎h︎ i︎s︎ r︎e︎d︎,︎ w︎a︎s︎ l︎i︎ke︎l︎y︎ a︎ g︎i︎f︎t︎ f︎r︎o︎m︎ h︎i︎s︎ b︎r︎o︎t︎h︎e︎r︎ a︎s︎ i︎t︎ a︎p︎p︎e︎a︎r︎s︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ m︎a︎d︎e︎ o︎u︎t︎ o︎f︎ a︎ s︎i︎m︎i︎l︎a︎r︎ m︎a︎t︎e︎r︎i︎a︎l︎ a︎s︎ t︎h︎e︎ s︎c︎a︎r︎f︎.︎]

✋︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎📪︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬧︎︎🙵◆︎︎●︎︎●︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎ ⍓︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎ ⬧︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎⍓︎︎ ⬧︎︎♓︎︎♑︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ♍︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎♓︎︎⌘︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎📪︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎ ✋︎︎ ♏︎︎⌧︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎ ♓︎︎⬧︎︎ □︎︎■︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ♋︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ⧫︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♑︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎◻︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎●︎︎📬︎︎ 💧︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎ ◆︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎ ⬧︎︎❍︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎●︎︎ ♍︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎❍︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♍︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎♐︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎❍︎︎□︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎ ♑︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎⬧︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ♍︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♑︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♑︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎□︎︎ ●︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♑︎︎♏︎︎ □︎︎❒︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎□︎︎ ⬧︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎◻︎︎📪︎︎ 🙵♏︎︎♏︎︎◻︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎ ♍︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎🙵📬︎︎

[I︎n︎t︎e︎r︎e︎s︎t︎i︎n︎g︎l︎y︎,︎ h︎i︎s︎ s︎ku︎l︎l︎ h︎a︎s︎ n︎o︎t︎ y︎e︎t︎ s︎h︎o︎w︎n︎ a︎n︎y︎ s︎i︎g︎n︎s︎ o︎f︎ c︎r︎y︎s︎t︎a︎l︎i︎z︎i︎n︎g︎,︎ t︎h︎o︎u︎g︎h︎ I︎ e︎x︎p︎e︎c︎t︎ i︎t︎ i︎s︎ o︎n︎l︎y︎ a︎ m︎a︎t︎t︎e︎r︎ o︎f︎ t︎i︎m︎e︎ b︎e︎f︎o︎r︎e︎ t︎h︎e︎ c︎r︎y︎s︎t︎a︎l︎s︎ b︎e︎g︎i︎n︎ a︎p︎p︎e︎a︎r︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎h︎e︎r︎e︎ a︎s︎ w︎e︎l︎l︎.︎ S︎a︎n︎s︎ u︎s︎e︎s︎ a︎ s︎m︎a︎l︎l︎ c︎h︎i︎s︎e︎l︎ a︎n︎d︎ h︎a︎m︎m︎e︎r︎ t︎o︎ c︎a︎r︎e︎f︎u︎l︎l︎y︎ r︎e︎m︎o︎v︎e︎ g︎r︎o︎w︎t︎h︎s︎ o︎f︎ c︎r︎y︎s︎t︎a︎l︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ b︎e︎g︎i︎n︎ t︎o︎ g︎e︎t︎ t︎o︎o︎ l︎a︎r︎g︎e︎ o︎r︎ t︎o︎o︎ s︎h︎a︎r︎p︎,︎ ke︎e︎p︎i︎n︎g︎ e︎v︎e︎r︎y︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ i︎n︎ c︎h︎e︎c︎k.︎]

👎︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎◻︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎❍︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ♏︎︎■︎︎🙰□︎︎⍓︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎♐︎︎📬︎︎ 🏱︎︎□︎︎◻︎︎◻︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♋︎︎♌︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ 🕆︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♑︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♎︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎♓︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ◻︎︎♋︎︎♍︎︎🙵♋︎︎♑︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎📪︎︎ ♍︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⬥︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎ ◻︎︎♏︎︎□︎︎◻︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎📪︎︎ □︎︎♍︎︎♍︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎●︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♓︎︎●︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♑︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ♒︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎ ♎︎︎□︎︎♑︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎⍓︎︎ ♑︎︎◆︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♎︎︎ ⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎🕯︎︎⬧︎︎ ●︎︎♏︎︎♐︎︎⧫︎︎ ◆︎︎■︎︎❍︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎📬︎︎ ☟︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎●︎︎ ♏︎︎■︎︎🙰□︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎ ◻︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎🙵⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⬥︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎⍓︎︎ □︎︎❒︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎♐︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ 🙰□︎︎🙵♏︎︎⬧︎︎📪︎︎ ♌︎︎◆︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♎︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ⧫︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎ ❍︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ □︎︎♍︎︎♍︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ◻︎︎◆︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎⍓︎︎❍︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎📬︎︎ 💧︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎●︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎❍︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎❖︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎📪︎︎ ⬥︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ❍︎︎⍓︎︎ ⬧︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎ ♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♏︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎📬︎︎ ⚐︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ❍︎︎⍓︎︎ ❍︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎🙵♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎ ❒︎︎♓︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎⧫︎︎📬︎︎

[D︎e︎s︎p︎i︎t︎e︎ t︎h︎i︎s︎ h︎e︎ s︎e︎e︎m︎s︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ t︎h︎o︎r︎o︎u︎g︎h︎l︎y︎ e︎n︎jo︎y︎i︎n︎g︎ h︎i︎m︎s︎e︎l︎f︎.︎ P︎o︎p︎p︎i︎n︎g︎ i︎n︎ a︎n︎d︎ a︎b︎o︎u︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎ U︎n︎d︎e︎r︎g︎r︎o︎u︎n︎d︎ d︎e︎l︎i︎v︎e︎r︎i︎n︎g︎ p︎a︎c︎ka︎g︎e︎s︎ a︎n︎d︎ m︎a︎i︎l︎,︎ c︎h︎a︎t︎t︎i︎n︎g︎ w︎i︎t︎h︎ p︎e︎o︎p︎l︎e︎,︎ o︎c︎c︎a︎s︎i︎o︎n︎a︎l︎l︎y︎ s︎e︎e︎n︎ s︎e︎l︎l︎i︎n︎g︎ i︎l︎l︎e︎g︎a︎l︎ h︎o︎t︎ d︎o︎g︎s︎ a︎t︎ a︎n︎y︎ g︎u︎a︎r︎d︎ s︎t︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎'︎s︎ l︎e︎f︎t︎ u︎n︎m︎a︎n︎n︎e︎d︎.︎ H︎e︎ s︎t︎i︎l︎l︎ e︎n︎jo︎y︎s︎ p︎r︎a︎n︎ks︎ a︎n︎d︎ w︎i︎t︎t︎y︎ o︎r︎ r︎e︎f︎e︎r︎e︎n︎t︎i︎a︎l︎ jo︎ke︎s︎,︎ b︎u︎t︎ h︎e︎ h︎a︎r︎d︎l︎y︎ e︎v︎e︎r︎ t︎e︎l︎l︎s︎ m︎o︎r︎e︎ t︎h︎a︎n︎ t︎h︎e︎ o︎c︎c︎a︎s︎i︎o︎n︎a︎l︎ p︎u︎n︎ a︎n︎y︎m︎o︎r︎e︎.︎ S︎t︎i︎l︎l︎ h︎e︎ s︎e︎e︎m︎s︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ t︎h︎r︎i︎v︎i︎n︎g︎,︎ w︎h︎i︎c︎h︎ s︎e︎t︎s︎ m︎y︎ s︎o︎u︎l︎ a︎t︎ e︎a︎s︎e︎.︎ O︎n︎e︎ o︎f︎ m︎y︎ m︎i︎s︎t︎a︎ke︎s︎ s︎e︎t︎ r︎i︎g︎h︎t︎.︎]

☟︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♏︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎ ❍︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ 🏱︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎ ✌︎︎⬧︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎📬︎︎ ❄︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎ ☞︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♎︎︎◆︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♎︎︎◆︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ◆︎︎◻︎︎□︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♌︎︎●︎︎□︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ◆︎︎■︎︎⬥︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ 👎︎︎□︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ✌︎︎●︎︎◻︎︎♒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♏︎︎⌧︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ □︎︎■︎︎📪︎︎ ⬧︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎♑︎︎♋︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬧︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ☠︎︎♏︎︎⬥︎︎ ☟︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎⧫︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ❄︎︎❒︎︎♓︎︎◻︎︎◻︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎♓︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎⧫︎︎📪︎︎ ⬥︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎⍓︎︎ ♐︎︎□︎︎●︎︎🙵 ♒︎︎♋︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎ ♎︎︎◆︎︎♌︎︎♌︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♌︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎◻︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ □︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎🙵⬧︎︎ 🙰◆︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ■︎︎♏︎︎⬥︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎🙵 ♌︎︎♏︎︎♑︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎ 🕿︎︎✋︎︎🕯︎︎❍︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♑︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎■︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⬧︎︎◆︎︎⬧︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ✌︎︎⬧︎︎♑︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎⍓︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎●︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ◻︎︎□︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎  ■︎︎♋︎︎❍︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⬧︎︎🙵♓︎︎●︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎📬︎︎ 🏱︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎◻︎︎⬧︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ 💣︎︎□︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ■︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎ ●︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♋︎︎ ♐︎︎♋︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎⧫︎︎✆︎︎📬︎︎ ☟︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ◻︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♒︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎ ♒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎ 🙰□︎︎⍓︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ 😐︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎♎︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ 💣︎︎□︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎ ⬥︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎♎︎︎ ♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ■︎︎♏︎︎⬥︎︎⬧︎︎📪︎︎ ♒︎︎□︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♐︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ◻︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ♎︎︎♋︎︎⍓︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ■︎︎♓︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎⧫︎︎ ♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎⍓︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ■︎︎♏︎︎⌧︎︎⧫︎︎ ☼︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎📬︎︎

[H︎o︎w︎e︎v︎e︎r︎ t︎h︎e︎ t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ s︎e︎t︎ e︎v︎e︎r︎y︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ e︎l︎s︎e︎ i︎n︎ m︎o︎t︎i︎o︎n︎ w︎a︎s︎ t︎h︎e︎ r︎e︎t︎u︎r︎n︎ o︎f︎ P︎r︎i︎n︎c︎e︎ A︎s︎r︎i︎e︎l︎.︎ T︎h︎o︎u︎g︎h︎ h︎e︎ h︎a︎d︎ b︎e︎c︎o︎m︎e︎ a︎ F︎l︎o︎w︎e︎r︎ d︎u︎e︎ t︎o︎ h︎i︎s︎ d︎u︎s︎t︎ b︎e︎i︎n︎g︎ u︎p︎o︎n︎ t︎h︎e︎ b︎l︎o︎o︎m︎ t︎h︎e︎ u︎n︎w︎i︎t︎t︎i︎n︎g︎ D︎o︎c︎t︎o︎r︎ A︎l︎p︎h︎y︎s︎ e︎x︎p︎e︎r︎i︎m︎e︎n︎t︎e︎d︎ o︎n︎,︎ s︎o︎m︎e︎h︎o︎w︎ h︎e︎ h︎a︎d︎ r︎e︎g︎a︎i︎n︎e︎d︎ h︎i︎s︎ s︎o︎u︎l︎ a︎n︎d︎ r︎e︎t︎u︎r︎n︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ N︎e︎w︎ H︎o︎m︎e︎ a︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎ h︎e︎i︎g︎h︎t︎ o︎f︎ t︎h︎e︎ T︎r︎i︎p︎p︎l︎e︎n︎i︎g︎h︎t︎,︎ w︎h︎a︎t︎ m︎a︎n︎y︎ f︎o︎l︎k h︎a︎v︎e︎ d︎u︎b︎b︎e︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎ c︎e︎l︎e︎b︎r︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎s︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ h︎a︎p︎p︎e︎n︎ o︎n︎c︎e︎ e︎v︎e︎r︎y︎ t︎h︎r︎e︎e︎ w︎e︎e︎ks︎ ju︎s︎t︎ b︎e︎f︎o︎r︎e︎ t︎h︎e︎ n︎e︎w︎ w︎e︎e︎k b︎e︎g︎i︎n︎s︎ (︎I︎'︎m︎ b︎e︎g︎i︎n︎n︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎o︎ s︎u︎s︎p︎e︎c︎t︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ A︎s︎g︎o︎r︎e︎ m︎a︎y︎ n︎o︎t︎ b︎e︎ a︎l︎o︎n︎e︎ i︎n︎ h︎i︎s︎ p︎o︎o︎r︎  n︎a︎m︎i︎n︎g︎ s︎ki︎l︎l︎s︎.︎ P︎e︎r︎h︎a︎p︎s︎ i︎t︎s︎ a︎n︎ a︎s︎p︎e︎c︎t︎ o︎f︎ M︎o︎n︎s︎t︎e︎r︎ n︎a︎t︎u︎r︎e︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ l︎i︎t︎e︎r︎a︎l︎ t︎o︎ a︎ f︎a︎u︎l︎t︎)︎.︎ H︎i︎s︎ p︎a︎r︎e︎n︎t︎s︎ w︎e︎l︎c︎o︎m︎e︎d︎ h︎i︎m︎ h︎o︎m︎e︎ w︎i︎t︎h︎ jo︎y︎ a︎n︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎ e︎n︎t︎i︎r︎e︎ K︎i︎n︎g︎d︎o︎m︎ o︎f︎ M︎o︎n︎s︎t︎e︎r︎s︎ w︎e︎n︎t︎ w︎i︎l︎d︎ a︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎ n︎e︎w︎s︎,︎ h︎o︎s︎t︎i︎n︎g︎ f︎e︎a︎s︎t︎s︎ a︎n︎d︎ p︎a︎r︎t︎i︎e︎s︎ d︎a︎y︎ a︎n︎d︎ n︎i︎g︎h︎t︎ f︎o︎r︎ t︎h︎e︎ e︎n︎t︎i︎r︎e︎t︎y︎ o︎f︎ t︎h︎e︎ n︎e︎x︎t︎ R︎e︎s︎e︎t︎.︎]

⚐︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎□︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♍︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♌︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎□︎︎□︎︎■︎︎ ♍︎︎♋︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎📬︎︎ 👎︎︎□︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ✌︎︎●︎︎◻︎︎♒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎📪︎︎ ⬥︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎♑︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ❍︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎❍︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ☜︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎ ☞︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎📪︎︎ ♎︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♌︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ♎︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ 😐︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⬄︎︎■︎︎ ♍︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎ ✋︎︎🕯︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ⬧︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎♎︎︎⍓︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎📪︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎❒︎︎ ♑︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎ ♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎□︎︎ ♌︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎ ♐︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ●︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎ ●︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎📫︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎❍︎︎ ♏︎︎⌧︎︎◻︎︎□︎︎⬧︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ❒︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎♓︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎ ♐︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ❖︎︎□︎︎♓︎︎♎︎︎📬︎︎ 💣︎︎⍓︎︎ ⬧︎︎◆︎︎⬧︎︎◻︎︎♓︎︎♍︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎ ♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ■︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ♐︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎ ❍︎︎⍓︎︎ ♍︎︎♋︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ♓︎︎■︎︎♐︎︎●︎︎◆︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♏︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎⬧︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❍︎︎⬧︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ 🕆︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♑︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ❍︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎■︎︎♓︎︎♋︎︎📪︎︎ ●︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ 💣︎︎□︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ♍︎︎♋︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎📬︎︎ ❄︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♌︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ⬧︎︎●︎︎♓︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎⧫︎︎●︎︎⍓︎︎ ♎︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎■︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♐︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ❄︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ♋︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♏︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♐︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎❍︎︎ ◻︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎❖︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎⬧︎︎ ☼︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎⧫︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ♏︎︎●︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎ ♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ◻︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎❖︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎📬︎︎

[O︎t︎h︎e︎r︎ r︎e︎a︎s︎o︎n︎s︎ t︎o︎ c︎e︎l︎e︎b︎r︎a︎t︎e︎ s︎o︎o︎n︎ c︎a︎m︎e︎.︎ D︎o︎c︎t︎o︎r︎ A︎l︎p︎h︎y︎s︎,︎ w︎h︎o︎ h︎a︎d︎ b︎e︎e︎n︎ r︎e︎s︎e︎a︎r︎c︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎h︎e︎ m︎a︎g︎i︎c︎a︎l︎ m︎e︎c︎h︎a︎n︎i︎s︎m︎ b︎e︎h︎i︎n︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎ E︎c︎h︎o︎ F︎l︎o︎w︎e︎r︎s︎,︎ d︎i︎s︎c︎o︎v︎e︎r︎e︎d︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎ b︎l︎o︎s︎s︎o︎m︎s︎ a︎r︎e︎ a︎c︎t︎u︎a︎l︎l︎y︎ d︎i︎s︎t︎a︎n︎t︎l︎y︎ r︎e︎l︎a︎t︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ t︎h︎e︎ K︎e︎n︎ó︎n︎ c︎r︎y︎s︎t︎a︎l︎s︎ I︎'︎v︎e︎ b︎e︎e︎n︎ s︎t︎u︎d︎y︎i︎n︎g︎,︎ i︎n︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎i︎r︎ g︎r︎o︎w︎t︎h︎ i︎s︎ a︎l︎s︎o︎ b︎o︎r︎n︎ f︎r︎o︎m︎ l︎o︎w︎ l︎o︎n︎g︎-︎t︎e︎r︎m︎ e︎x︎p︎o︎s︎u︎r︎e︎ t︎o︎ r︎a︎d︎i︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎ f︎r︎o︎m︎ t︎h︎e︎ v︎o︎i︎d︎.︎ M︎y︎ s︎u︎s︎p︎i︎c︎i︎o︎n︎ i︎s︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎ n︎a︎t︎u︎r︎a︎l︎ f︎i︎s︎s︎u︎r︎e︎ b︎e︎l︎o︎w︎ m︎y︎ c︎a︎v︎e︎ h︎a︎s︎ b︎e︎e︎n︎ i︎n︎f︎l︎u︎e︎n︎c︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎h︎e︎ e︎c︎o︎s︎y︎s︎t︎e︎m︎s︎ o︎f︎ t︎h︎e︎ U︎n︎d︎e︎r︎g︎r︎o︎u︎n︎d︎ f︎o︎r︎ m︎i︎l︎l︎e︎n︎n︎i︎a︎,︎ l︎o︎n︎g︎ b︎e︎f︎o︎r︎e︎ M︎o︎n︎s︎t︎e︎r︎s︎ e︎v︎e︎r︎ c︎a︎m︎e︎ h︎e︎r︎e︎.︎ T︎h︎e︎ b︎l︎o︎s︎s︎o︎m︎s︎ a︎r︎e︎ s︎l︎i︎g︎h︎t︎l︎y︎ d︎i︎s︎c︎o︎n︎n︎e︎c︎t︎e︎d︎ f︎r︎o︎m︎ T︎i︎m︎e︎ a︎n︎d︎ a︎r︎e︎ c︎a︎t︎c︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ e︎c︎h︎o︎e︎s︎ r︎e︎c︎o︎r︎d︎e︎d︎ f︎r︎o︎m︎ p︎r︎e︎v︎i︎o︎u︎s︎ R︎e︎s︎e︎t︎s︎ e︎v︎e︎n︎ a︎s︎ e︎v︎e︎r︎y︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ e︎l︎s︎e︎ i︎s︎ r︎e︎t︎u︎r︎n︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ i︎t︎s︎ p︎r︎e︎v︎i︎o︎u︎s︎ s︎t︎a︎t︎e︎.︎]

✋︎︎⧫︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎ ♎︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎♍︎︎□︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⍓︎︎ ◻︎︎●︎︎◆︎︎⬧︎︎ ❍︎︎⍓︎︎ □︎︎⬥︎︎■︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♍︎︎♒︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎ ♋︎︎●︎︎●︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ❍︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♐︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎♓︎︎⌘︎︎♏︎︎ ❍︎︎⍓︎︎ ♍︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ✌︎︎❍︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎♑︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎📬︎︎ ❄︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎⍓︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎ ●︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎ ♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎📪︎︎ ♓︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎❒︎︎◆︎︎♏︎︎📪︎︎ ♌︎︎◆︎︎⧫︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎⍓︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ♋︎︎●︎︎♓︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎📪︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎◻︎︎♋︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎✏︎︎ ❄︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎❒︎︎ ♐︎︎♋︎︎❍︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎♓︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬥︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ □︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎🙰□︎︎⍓︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⬧︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎❍︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ✌︎︎●︎︎◻︎︎♒︎︎⍓︎︎⬧︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎♓︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎□︎︎ ♐︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎❖︎︎♓︎︎■︎︎♑︎︎ ⬧︎︎♋︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎❒︎︎ ●︎︎♓︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ♒︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎❍︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎❍︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎📬︎︎ ✋︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎□︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ◻︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎📪︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎♑︎︎♒︎︎ ✋︎︎ ♎︎︎♓︎︎♎︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎♓︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ♋︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎♏︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♌︎︎❒︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎□︎︎■︎︎⬧︎︎📬︎︎

[I︎t︎ w︎a︎s︎ t︎h︎i︎s︎ d︎i︎s︎c︎o︎v︎e︎r︎y︎ p︎l︎u︎s︎ m︎y︎ o︎w︎n︎ r︎e︎s︎e︎a︎r︎c︎h︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ a︎l︎l︎o︎w︎e︎d︎ m︎e︎ t︎o︎ f︎i︎n︎a︎l︎i︎z︎e︎ m︎y︎ c︎u︎r︎e︎ f︎o︎r︎ t︎h︎e︎ A︎m︎a︎l︎g︎a︎t︎e︎s︎.︎ T︎h︎e︎y︎ w︎e︎r︎e︎ a︎ l︎i︎t︎t︎l︎e︎ w︎o︎r︎s︎e︎ f︎o︎r︎ w︎e︎a︎r︎,︎ i︎t︎s︎ t︎r︎u︎e︎,︎ b︎u︎t︎ t︎h︎e︎y︎ w︎e︎r︎e︎ a︎l︎i︎v︎e︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ s︎e︎p︎a︎r︎a︎t︎e︎!︎ T︎h︎e︎i︎r︎ f︎a︎m︎i︎l︎i︎e︎s︎ w︎e︎r︎e︎ o︎v︎e︎r︎jo︎y︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ s︎e︎e︎ t︎h︎e︎m︎ a︎n︎d︎ A︎l︎p︎h︎y︎s︎ w︎a︎s︎ h︎a︎i︎l︎e︎d︎ a︎s︎ a︎ h︎e︎r︎o︎ f︎o︎r︎ h︎a︎v︎i︎n︎g︎ s︎a︎v︎e︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎i︎r︎ l︎i︎v︎e︎s︎ a︎n︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎n︎ h︎e︎l︎p︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ r︎e︎t︎u︎r︎n︎ t︎h︎e︎m︎ t︎o︎ n︎o︎r︎m︎a︎l︎.︎ I︎ t︎o︎o︎ w︎a︎s︎ p︎r︎a︎i︎s︎e︎d︎,︎ t︎h︎o︎u︎g︎h︎ I︎ d︎i︎d︎ n︎o︎t︎ h︎a︎v︎e︎ t︎i︎m︎e︎ t︎o︎ a︎t︎t︎e︎n︎d︎ t︎h︎e︎ c︎e︎l︎e︎b︎r︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎s︎.︎]

✌︎︎ ❍︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ❍︎︎□︎︎❒︎︎♏︎︎ ◻︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎⬧︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎ ♍︎︎□︎︎■︎︎♍︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎ ❍︎︎⍓︎︎ ♋︎︎⬧︎︎⬧︎︎♓︎︎⬧︎︎⧫︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎⬧︎︎📬︎︎ ✋︎︎ ♍︎︎□︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎♎︎︎ ■︎︎□︎︎⧫︎︎ ❒︎︎♏︎︎⧫︎︎◆︎︎❒︎︎■︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎♓︎︎❒︎︎ ♐︎︎◆︎︎●︎︎●︎︎ ♓︎︎♎︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎⧫︎︎♓︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ♋︎︎■︎︎♎︎︎ ■︎︎♋︎︎❍︎︎♏︎︎⬧︎︎ ⧫︎︎□︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎❍︎︎📬︎︎ ❄︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎⍓︎︎ ♒︎︎♋︎︎♎︎︎ ♌︎︎♏︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎ ⬥︎︎♓︎︎◻︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♍︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎ ●︎︎♓︎︎🙵♏︎︎ ♋︎︎ ⬧︎︎●︎︎♋︎︎⧫︎︎♏︎︎ ⬥︎︎♋︎︎⬧︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎♎︎︎ ♍︎︎●︎︎♏︎︎♋︎︎■︎︎ □︎︎♐︎︎ ⧫︎︎♒︎︎♏︎︎ ♍︎︎♒︎︎♋︎︎●︎︎🙵📬︎︎

[A︎ m︎a︎t︎t︎e︎r︎ o︎f︎ m︎o︎r︎e︎ p︎e︎r︎s︎o︎n︎a︎l︎ c︎o︎n︎c︎e︎r︎n︎ w︎a︎s︎ m︎y︎ a︎s︎s︎i︎s︎t︎a︎n︎t︎s︎.︎ I︎ c︎o︎u︎l︎d︎ n︎o︎t︎ r︎e︎t︎u︎r︎n︎ t︎h︎e︎i︎r︎ f︎u︎l︎l︎ i︎d︎e︎n︎t︎i︎t︎i︎e︎s︎ a︎n︎d︎ n︎a︎m︎e︎s︎ t︎o︎ t︎h︎e︎m︎.︎ T︎h︎e︎y︎ h︎a︎d︎ b︎e︎e︎n︎ w︎i︎p︎e︎d︎ c︎l︎e︎a︎n︎ l︎i︎ke︎ a︎ s︎l︎a︎t︎e︎ w︎a︎s︎h︎e︎d︎ c︎l︎e︎a︎n︎ o︎f︎ t︎h︎e︎ c︎h︎a︎l︎k.︎]

☟︎︎□︎︎⬥︎︎♏︎︎❖︎︎♏︎︎❒︎︎ ✋︎︎ ♎︎︎♓︎︎♎︎︎ ❍︎♋︎■︎♋︎♑︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❒︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎□︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎ ●︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎♓︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎◆︎●︎⬧︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎♓︎❒︎ ♏︎❍︎□︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎⬧︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ❍︎◆︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ❍︎♏︎❍︎□︎❒︎♋︎♌︎●︎♏︎ □︎❒︎ ♏︎■︎♏︎❒︎♑︎♏︎⧫︎♓︎♍︎📪︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ◻︎♏︎□︎◻︎●︎♏︎ ■︎□︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎♏︎❒︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎♏︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ □︎❒︎ ♎︎□︎■︎🕯︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎●︎●︎📬︎ ✌︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ◻︎♓︎♍︎🙵♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎♓︎❒︎ □︎⬥︎■︎ ■︎♋︎❍︎♏︎⬧︎🖳︎ ❄︎♏︎❒︎⧫︎♓︎♋︎📪︎ 💧︎♏︎♍︎◆︎■︎♎︎◆︎⬧︎📪︎ 🏱︎❒︎♓︎❍︎◆︎⬧︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ☝︎□︎■︎♏︎❒︎📬︎ ☠︎□︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ❍︎□︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♓︎❍︎♋︎♑︎♓︎■︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎❖︎♏︎ ■︎♋︎❍︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ✋︎🕯︎●︎●︎ ♋︎♎︎❍︎♓︎⧫︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ☝︎□︎■︎♏︎❒︎🕯︎⬧︎ ♓︎■︎♍︎●︎♓︎■︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ⧫︎□︎⬥︎♋︎❒︎♎︎⬧︎ ❍︎□︎❒︎♌︎♓︎♎︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎📪︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎□︎❒︎□︎◆︎⬧︎ □︎❒︎ □︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎⬥︎♓︎⬧︎♏︎📪︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ❖︎♋︎♑︎◆︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎❒︎■︎♓︎■︎♑︎📬︎ 💧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♒︎♋︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎♋︎◻︎♋︎♍︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♑︎♓︎❖︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎⬧︎♏︎●︎❖︎♏︎⬧︎ ■︎♋︎❍︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬥︎♒︎♓︎♍︎♒︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ♋︎ ❖︎♋︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♓︎❍︎◻︎❒︎□︎❖︎♏︎❍︎♏︎■︎⧫︎ □︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎♓︎❒︎ ◻︎❒︎♏︎❖︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎📬︎

[H︎o︎w︎e︎v︎e︎r︎ I︎ d︎i︎d︎ manage to restore a little of their souls. Their emotions are muted still, and they are not very memorable or energetic, but people no longer forget them or don't see them at all. And they picked their own names: Tertia, Secundus, Primus, and Goner. Not the most imaginative names, I'll admit. Though Goner's inclination towards morbidity, humorous or otherwise, is vaguely concerning. Still, they had the capacity to give themselves names, which is a vast improvement on their previous state.]

☟︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ◻︎●︎♏︎♋︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ✌︎⬧︎⬧︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎■︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♓︎♎︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎■︎ ■︎♏︎⬥︎⬧︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ 🕆︎■︎♎︎♏︎❒︎♑︎❒︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎ ♒︎♋︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ❍︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎❒︎■︎♏︎♎︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎⍓︎ □︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎♍︎□︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎📬︎ ✈︎◆︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ♋︎♍︎♍︎♓︎♎︎♏︎■︎⧫︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎♍︎□︎❖︎♏︎❒︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ 😐︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⬄︎︎■︎︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎ ♌︎♏︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ □︎■︎ □︎♌︎🙰♏︎♍︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♏︎●︎●︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ❍︎♏︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ 💣︎□︎■︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎📬︎ ✌︎ ⬧︎❍︎♋︎●︎●︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎♒︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ❍︎♓︎■︎♏︎❒︎♋︎●︎ ⬥︎♒︎♓︎♍︎♒︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 👎︎♏︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎❍︎♓︎■︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ ♋︎♍︎♍︎♓︎♎︎♏︎■︎⧫︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ●︎♏︎♐︎⧫︎ □︎◆︎⧫︎⬧︎♓︎♎︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ♌︎♏︎♐︎□︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎ ☼︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎⧫︎📬︎ 🕆︎◻︎□︎■︎ ♓︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎♍︎□︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎❒︎⍓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎●︎⬧︎ ♒︎♋︎♎︎ ♐︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎♒︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ♋︎●︎●︎□︎⬥︎♏︎♎︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❒︎♏︎❍︎♋︎♓︎■︎ ♓︎■︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎♍︎♏︎📬︎

[However as pleased as I am, the state of my Assistants is not widely known news. The Underground has been much more concerned with my other discovery. Quite by accident I discovered that K︎e︎n︎ó︎n︎ can be used on objects as well as merely Monsters. A small dish with the mineral which was reacting to the Determination was accidentally left outside the cave right before a Reset. Upon its discovery the crystals had fused with the dish and allowed it to remain in place.]

☠︎♋︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ⬥︎♏︎■︎⧫︎ ♋︎⧫︎ □︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 😐︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ✈︎◆︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ❍︎♓︎❒︎♋︎♍︎◆︎●︎□︎◆︎⬧︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎♍︎□︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎📬︎ 🕈︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎♓︎❒︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎❍︎♓︎⬧︎⬧︎♓︎□︎■︎ ✋︎ ♌︎♏︎♑︎♋︎■︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎🙵 □︎■︎ ♋︎ ⬥︎♋︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♍︎□︎■︎⧫︎♋︎♓︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ❍︎♓︎■︎♏︎❒︎♋︎●︎ ⬥︎♒︎♓︎●︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎ ◆︎⬧︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎♍︎♓︎♐︎♓︎♍︎ ◻︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❒︎♏︎⬧︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♍︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ☼︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎⧫︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎🙵 ❍︎♏︎ □︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ⧫︎⬥︎□︎ ⍓︎♏︎♋︎❒︎⬧︎📪︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎■︎⧫︎◆︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ❍︎♋︎■︎♋︎♑︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♍︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎♏︎❒︎♓︎♏︎⬧︎ □︎♐︎ ✂︎☞︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ 💧︎⧫︎□︎■︎♏︎⬧︎✂︎ ⬥︎♒︎♓︎♍︎♒︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎ ♌︎♏︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⬥︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎♎︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ■︎♏︎⬥︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎◆︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎ 🙵♏︎♏︎◻︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ❖︎♋︎■︎♓︎⬧︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♏︎■︎♎︎ □︎♐︎ ❄︎❒︎♓︎◻︎◻︎●︎♏︎■︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎📬︎

[Naturally I went at once to the King and Queen with this miraculous discovery. With their permission I began to work on a way to contain the mineral while still using this specific power to resist the force of the Resets. It took me over two years, but eventually I managed to create a series of "Foundation Stones" which can be used when building new structures to keep them from vanishing at the end of Tripplenight.]

❄︎♒︎♏︎ ☞︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ 💧︎⧫︎□︎■︎♏︎⬧︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ●︎♋︎❒︎♑︎♏︎📪︎ ♒︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ⬥︎♏︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ❒︎♏︎♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ❒︎◆︎♓︎■︎♏︎♎︎ ♍︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎ ☟︎□︎❍︎♏︎📬︎ ✌︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ☼︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎⧫︎ ◻︎♋︎⬧︎⬧︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎❒︎⍓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎●︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 😐︎︎♏︎︎■︎︎⬄︎︎■︎︎ ⬧︎◻︎❒︎♏︎♋︎♎︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎⧫︎📪︎ ♍︎❒︎♋︎♍︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎□︎■︎♏︎ ♋︎❒︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ❒︎♏︎♌︎♓︎■︎♎︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♓︎⧫︎📪︎ ❍︎♋︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎♋︎❍︎♏︎ ⬧︎◻︎♓︎♎︎♏︎❒︎⬥︎♏︎♌︎ ◻︎♋︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎■︎ ♋︎♍︎❒︎□︎⬧︎⬧︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♐︎♋︎♍︎♏︎ ♓︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♋︎●︎●︎□︎⬥︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♑︎❒︎□︎⬥︎ □︎■︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎❍︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♎︎♏︎⬧︎◻︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎ ♍︎❒︎♋︎♍︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎□︎■︎♏︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♌︎♓︎■︎♎︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ❍︎♋︎♎︎♏︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎❒︎⍓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎●︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎♏︎■︎♑︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎◆︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ❑︎◆︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎ ♋︎ ♌︎♓︎⧫︎📬︎ ✋︎ ⬥︎□︎■︎♎︎♏︎❒︎ ♓︎♐︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⬧︎♓︎❍︎♓︎●︎♋︎❒︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♒︎♋︎◻︎◻︎♏︎■︎ ♓︎♐︎ 💧︎♋︎■︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎❒︎♏︎♋︎🙵 ♋︎ ♌︎□︎■︎♏︎📪︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎❒︎⍓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎●︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎♏︎■︎♑︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♌︎□︎■︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎◆︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎✍︎

[The Foundation Stones aren’t very large, however with them we’ve rebuilt the ruined city of Home. As the Reset passes the crystal of the K︎e︎n︎ó︎n︎ spreads out, cracking the stone around it and then rebinding it, making the same spiderweb pattern across every surface its allowed to grow on. It seems that despite cracking the stone, the binding made by the crystal strengthens the structures by quite a bit. I wonder if something similar would happen if Sans were to break a bone, would the crystal strengthen his bone structure?]

🕈︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ♋︎♌︎♓︎●︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❒︎♏︎♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎♎︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎♎︎ ■︎♏︎⬥︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎◆︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♏︎♋︎❒︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ♑︎♏︎⧫︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♏︎❒︎♋︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ☼︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎⧫︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬥︎♏︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♋︎■︎♎︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 😐︎♓︎■︎♑︎♎︎□︎❍︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♏︎■︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ■︎♏︎⬥︎ ♍︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎❒︎♓︎♍︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♓︎■︎ ☠︎♏︎⬥︎ ☟︎□︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 🕈︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎♐︎♋︎●︎●︎⬧︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♎︎♋︎❍︎❍︎♏︎♎︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎◻︎♏︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 🕆︎◻︎◻︎♏︎❒︎ ☹︎♋︎🙵♏︎⬧︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ❒︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎❒︎❖︎□︎♓︎❒︎⬧︎ ♐︎♓︎●︎●︎ ◆︎◻︎ ♏︎■︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎♏︎■︎♓︎⌘︎♏︎■︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ ●︎♓︎❖︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ❍︎♋︎■︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ❍︎□︎❖︎♏︎♎︎ ♌︎♋︎♍︎🙵 ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 👍︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎📪︎ □︎❒︎ ❍︎□︎❖︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⚐︎●︎♎︎ ☟︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎♋︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ●︎♓︎❖︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ☞︎□︎◆︎■︎⧫︎♋︎♓︎■︎⬧︎📪︎ 👌︎♋︎⧫︎♒︎♒︎□︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ 👍︎♋︎■︎♋︎●︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎📬︎

[With our ability to rebuild and to build new structures without fear of them getting erased by Resets, we have expanded the Kingdom. There are entirely new city districts in New Home, and the Waterfalls have been dammed properly so that the Upper Lakes and reservoirs fill up enough for the denizens who live there, and many of them have moved back from the City, or moved to Old Home instead to live in the Fountains, Bathhouses, and Canals there.]

💧︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♋︎■︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❍︎□︎❖︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 💧︎■︎□︎⬥︎♎︎♓︎■︎ 👍︎♋︎❖︎♏︎❒︎■︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ ⬧︎□︎ ❍︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ❒︎□︎□︎❍︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❄︎□︎⬥︎■︎⬧︎♐︎□︎●︎🙵 □︎♐︎ 💧︎■︎□︎⬥︎♎︎♓︎■︎ □︎♌︎🙰♏︎♍︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎♓︎■︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎⬥︎■︎ ♌︎♏︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ❒︎♏︎♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎⧫︎ ♓︎■︎⧫︎□︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♌︎●︎♋︎❍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎📬︎ ☟︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎♌︎●︎♏︎❍︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ 💣︎□︎■︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎ ❍︎♋︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ ♒︎□︎❍︎♏︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎⧫︎ ♓︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ●︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❒︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬥︎♒︎♓︎♍︎♒︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ●︎♋︎❒︎♑︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ◆︎■︎♓︎■︎♒︎♋︎♌︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎📬︎

[Some wanted to move to the Snowdin Caverns, since there was so much room. The Townsfolk of Snowdin objected to their tiny town being rebuilt into a city, and I cannot really say I blame them. However they didn’t have a problem with Monsters making homes out in the lower forests, which are largely uninhabited.]

❄︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ □︎■︎♏︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎♌︎●︎♏︎❍︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎📪︎ ◆︎■︎●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ❒︎♏︎♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎♎︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎◆︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬥︎♏︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ◻︎❒︎♏︎❖︎♏︎■︎⧫︎ ♍︎◆︎⧫︎ ♎︎□︎⬥︎■︎ ⧫︎❒︎♏︎♏︎⬧︎ ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎◻︎◻︎♏︎♋︎❒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♎︎◆︎❒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ☼︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎⧫︎📪︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎■︎ ♓︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎❼︎⬧︎ ♋︎ ♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎♎︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♓︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎♋︎❍︎♏︎ ⬧︎◻︎□︎⧫︎📬︎ 🏱︎□︎□︎❒︎ 👍︎♒︎♋︎❒︎●︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ ❍︎□︎❖︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ◻︎❒︎♏︎❖︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎ ♒︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎ ☟︎□︎⧫︎●︎♋︎■︎♎︎ ♋︎♐︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ❽︎🕈︎♋︎■︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♋︎■︎♑︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎ ⬥︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎❾︎📬︎ ☟︎♏︎ ⬥︎□︎🙵♏︎ ◆︎◻︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ❍︎□︎❒︎■︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎♐︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♒︎□︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎⬥︎♋︎❒︎❍︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ◻︎♋︎❒︎⧫︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ♋︎ ●︎♋︎❒︎♑︎♏︎ ♐︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎❒︎♏︎♏︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎♒︎□︎⬥︎ ♑︎❒︎□︎⬥︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎❒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♎︎♓︎■︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ❒︎□︎□︎❍︎ ⧫︎♋︎♌︎●︎♏︎📬︎

[There was one problem though, unlike rebuilding structures, we cannot prevent cut down trees from reappearing during the Reset, even if there’s a building in the same spot. Poor Charles, who moved there from his previous home in Hotland after “Wanting a change in weather”. He woke up the morning after his housewarming party with a large fir tree somehow growing right through his dining room table.]

✌︎♐︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♏︎ ⬥︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♍︎♋︎❒︎♏︎♐︎◆︎●︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎♎︎ ■︎♏︎⬥︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎◆︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎⬧︎ ♋︎❒︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎❒︎♏︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎⬧︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎■︎ ♓︎■︎♍︎□︎❒︎◻︎□︎❒︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ♓︎■︎⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎♎︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♓︎⧫︎⬧︎♏︎●︎♐︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ 🙵♏︎♏︎◻︎ ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ♌︎♏︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ◆︎■︎◻︎●︎♏︎♋︎⬧︎♋︎■︎⧫︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎◻︎❒︎♓︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎♋︎⍓︎ ♋︎♐︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ❄︎❒︎♓︎◻︎◻︎●︎♏︎■︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎📬︎

[After that we were careful to build new structures around trees, sometimes even incorporating them into the building itself, anything to keep from being unpleasantly surprised the day after Tripplenight.]

🕆︎■︎♎︎⍓︎■︎♏︎📪︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ ♒︎♋︎⬧︎ ❍︎□︎❖︎♏︎♎︎ □︎■︎ ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ♏︎◻︎♓︎♍︎ ♋︎♎︎❖︎♏︎■︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎ ♐︎♓︎●︎❍︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎◆︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ■︎♏︎⬥︎♐︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎ ◻︎♋︎⬧︎⬧︎♓︎□︎■︎ ♓︎■︎ 👌︎♋︎●︎●︎♏︎⧫︎ 🕿︎⬧︎◻︎♏︎♋︎❒︎⬧︎ ♓︎■︎♍︎●︎◆︎♎︎♏︎♎︎✆︎📪︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎ ♋︎■︎■︎□︎◆︎■︎♍︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ □︎◻︎♏︎■︎♓︎■︎♑︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ■︎♏︎⬥︎ 👍︎♋︎⬧︎♍︎♋︎♎︎♏︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ♓︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 🕈︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎♐︎♋︎●︎●︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎♋︎📬︎ 💧︎♒︎♏︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎♍︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♋︎◻︎◻︎♏︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♑︎❒︎♋︎■︎♎︎ □︎◻︎♏︎■︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ■︎♏︎⌧︎⧫︎ ❍︎□︎■︎⧫︎♒︎ ♋︎●︎□︎■︎♑︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ⬥︎♓︎♐︎♏︎ ✌︎●︎◻︎♒︎⍓︎⬧︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ☼︎□︎⍓︎♋︎●︎ 💧︎♍︎♓︎♏︎■︎⧫︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ✋︎❼︎❍︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♍︎●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ 🕆︎■︎♎︎⍓︎■︎♏︎📪︎ ✌︎●︎◻︎♒︎⍓︎⬧︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ✋︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♑︎♏︎⧫︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ □︎■︎ ♏︎⌧︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎□︎❒︎♎︎♓︎■︎♋︎❒︎♓︎●︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♏︎●︎●︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⬧︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎♏︎■︎⧫︎ ♋︎■︎ ♓︎■︎❖︎♓︎⧫︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ♋︎ ⧫︎♓︎♍︎🙵♏︎⧫︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ■︎♓︎♍︎♏︎ ♌︎□︎⌧︎ ⬧︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎

[Undyne, who has moved on from epic adventure films to pursue her newfound passion in Ballet (spears included), is now announcing the opening of the new Cascade Theater in the Waterfall area. She is expected to appear at the grand opening next month along with her wife Alphys, the Royal Scientist. Though I’m not very close to Undyne, Alphys and I have been getting on extraordinarily well and she sent an invitation and a ticket for a very nice box seat.]

⚐︎♒︎ ⍓︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎ ●︎♏︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♍︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♏︎♋︎❒︎ □︎♐︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎⬧︎□︎●︎❖︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ◻︎♋︎♓︎■︎♐︎◆︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎■︎⧫︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎■︎♏︎⬧︎⬧︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❒︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎□︎❒︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ♓︎⬧︎📪︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ 🙰□︎◆︎❒︎■︎♋︎●︎📪︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎⬥︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎❒︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎ 🖰︎🖮︎🕭︎📬︎ ✌︎■︎♎︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ♏︎♋︎♍︎♒︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎♍︎♏︎■︎⧫︎♋︎♑︎♏︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ⬧︎⧫︎❒︎♏︎■︎♑︎⧫︎♒︎ ❒︎♏︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎■︎♓︎■︎♑︎📪︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ❍︎♓︎■︎♎︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎ ●︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ ❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎📬︎

[Oh yes, I can leave my cave now without fear of dissolving painfully into nothingness. The restoration is, at the time of this journal, somewhere around 87%. And with each percentage I can feel my strength returning, my mind clearing a little more.]

✋︎ ⬥︎□︎■︎♎︎♏︎❒︎ ♒︎□︎⬥︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♌︎♏︎ ◆︎■︎⧫︎♓︎●︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ⧫︎□︎⧫︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ❍︎⍓︎⬧︎♏︎●︎♐︎ ♋︎♑︎♋︎♓︎■︎✍︎

[I wonder how long it will be until I am totally myself again?]

💧︎◻︎♏︎♋︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ □︎♐︎ ✌︎●︎◻︎♒︎⍓︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬧︎♒︎♏︎❼︎⬧︎ ❒︎♏︎❖︎□︎●︎◆︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎♓︎⌘︎♏︎♎︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ 🕆︎■︎♎︎♏︎❒︎■︎♏︎⧫︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎ ♋︎♑︎♋︎♓︎■︎📬︎ ☟︎♏︎❒︎ ❒︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎♋︎❒︎♍︎♒︎ □︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ☜︎♍︎♒︎□︎ ☞︎●︎□︎⬥︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎ ●︎♏︎♎︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♎︎♏︎❖︎♏︎●︎□︎◻︎ ⧫︎♏︎♍︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ❒︎♏︎⧫︎♋︎♓︎■︎ ❍︎♏︎❍︎□︎❒︎⍓︎ ⬧︎⧫︎□︎❒︎♋︎♑︎♏︎ ♎︎♏︎⬧︎◻︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎ ❒︎♏︎⬧︎♏︎⧫︎⬧︎📬︎ ⚐︎♐︎ ♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ●︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♋︎ ❍︎♋︎⬧︎⬧︎♓︎❖︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎♍︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⬧︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎♋︎●︎ ⬧︎⧫︎□︎❒︎♋︎♑︎♏︎ □︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ □︎◻︎♏︎■︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♑︎♏︎■︎♏︎❒︎♋︎●︎ ◻︎◆︎♌︎●︎♓︎♍︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎♏︎❒︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♌︎◆︎♓︎●︎⧫︎ ♓︎■︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎◆︎♌︎ ♍︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ 💧︎■︎□︎⬥︎♎︎♓︎■︎ 👍︎♋︎❖︎♏︎❒︎■︎⬧︎📪︎ ⧫︎□︎ 🙵♏︎♏︎◻︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ♍︎□︎●︎♎︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ◻︎□︎⬧︎⬧︎♓︎♌︎●︎♏︎📬︎ 💧︎◆︎❒︎❒︎□︎◆︎■︎♎︎♏︎♎︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ♓︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♒︎◆︎❍︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎❖︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎📬︎

[Speaking of Alphys, she’s revolutionized our Undernet yet again. Her research on the Echo Flowers led her to develop tech that would retain memory storage despite resets. Of course, this led to a massive increase in actual storage once it was opened to the general public. The servers were built in a sub cave of the Snowdin Caverns, to keep them as cold as possible. Surrounded by ice they hum with the activity.]

💧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎♓︎□︎♎︎⬧︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎♌︎♓︎●︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎🙰♏︎♍︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ♋︎❒︎⧫︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎♓︎♍︎ ♏︎■︎♎︎♏︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎⬧︎ ♒︎♋︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♑︎□︎□︎♎︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎ ❻︎⬧︎ ♑︎♓︎❖︎♏︎■︎ ◆︎⬧︎ ♋︎■︎ ♋︎◻︎◻︎❒︎♏︎♍︎♓︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⧫︎♏︎❍︎◻︎□︎❒︎♋︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♏︎♐︎♐︎□︎❒︎⧫︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⬧︎🙵♓︎●︎●︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎❍︎♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎🙵⬧︎ ⬧︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ◻︎□︎♏︎⧫︎❒︎⍓︎ □︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎■︎♑︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❍︎♏︎❍︎□︎❒︎⍓︎ ♓︎■︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎♋︎♎︎ □︎♐︎ ❍︎♏︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ □︎■︎ ◻︎♋︎◻︎♏︎❒︎ □︎❒︎ ♓︎■︎ ♋︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎◻︎◆︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ♎︎□︎♍︎◆︎❍︎♏︎■︎⧫︎📬︎ 💣︎♋︎■︎⍓︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♍︎♒︎□︎□︎⬧︎♏︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❍︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ●︎♏︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ◆︎◻︎ □︎■︎●︎⍓︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎♒︎□︎❒︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ⬧︎□︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎⬧︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ ❍︎♋︎■︎♋︎♑︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎♓︎■︎♑︎ □︎♐︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ◻︎♋︎❒︎⧫︎♓︎♍︎♓︎◻︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ♓︎■︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ◆︎■︎♓︎❑︎◆︎♏︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎♍︎♓︎♋︎●︎📪︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ●︎♋︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ □︎■︎●︎⍓︎ ♋︎ ♌︎❒︎♓︎♏︎♐︎ ❍︎□︎❍︎♏︎■︎⧫︎📬︎

[Still, the long periods of time without the ability to save projects and artistic endeavors has been good for us. It ‘s given us an appreciation of the temporary and the effort and skill it takes to commit works such as poetry or songs to memory instead of merely on paper or in a computer document. Many still choose to make things that they leave up only for a short time, so that those who managed to see it have the feeling of having participated in something unique and special, something that lasted only a brief moment.]

❄︎♒︎♏︎ ✈︎◆︎♏︎♏︎■︎❼︎⬧︎ ⬧︎♍︎♒︎□︎□︎●︎ ♒︎♋︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ⧫︎❒︎♋︎■︎⬧︎♐︎□︎❒︎❍︎♏︎♎︎ ♓︎■︎⧫︎□︎ ❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎■︎ ♋︎ ♐︎♓︎♏︎●︎♎︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♏︎■︎⧫︎⬧︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎♋︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ☝︎❒︎♋︎■︎♎︎ 👍︎♋︎❖︎♏︎❒︎■︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ ●︎□︎♍︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ♓︎■︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎ ♋︎ ♎︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎❒︎♓︎♍︎⧫︎ □︎♐︎ ☠︎♏︎⬥︎ ☟︎□︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♐︎♓︎●︎●︎♏︎♎︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ♑︎♋︎❒︎♎︎♏︎■︎⬧︎ 🕿︎⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎■︎ ♍︎♋︎❒︎♏︎ □︎♐︎ ♌︎⍓︎ 😐︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ✌︎⬧︎♑︎□︎❒︎♏︎ ♒︎♓︎❍︎⬧︎♏︎●︎♐︎✏︎ ✋︎❼︎❍︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♏︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎◻︎❒︎♓︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ♓︎♐︎ ✋︎❼︎❍︎ ♌︎♏︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♒︎□︎■︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎✆︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⬧︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎ ❒︎♏︎♍︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎♍︎♒︎□︎□︎●︎❼︎⬧︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎❍︎♋︎❒︎⍓︎ ♐︎□︎♍︎◆︎⬧︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎■︎♑︎♏︎❒︎ ♑︎♏︎■︎♏︎❒︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎⬧︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ❍︎♋︎■︎⍓︎ ♋︎♎︎◆︎●︎⧫︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎●︎♋︎⬧︎⬧︎♏︎⬧︎ 🙰◆︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎ ♌︎♏︎♐︎□︎❒︎♏︎📬︎ ✞︎♋︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎ ♓︎■︎❖︎♓︎⧫︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎⬧︎ ♑︎□︎ □︎◆︎⧫︎ ♋︎⬧︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ 💣︎□︎■︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ♓︎■︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♏︎♋︎♍︎♒︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◆︎♌︎🙰♏︎♍︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎■︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎⧫︎ ♓︎■︎📬︎ ✋︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ❒︎♏︎♍︎♏︎♓︎❖︎♏︎♎︎ ♋︎ ♐︎♏︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎⬧︎♏︎●︎♐︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ✋︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ □︎■︎●︎⍓︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎◆︎♋︎●︎●︎⍓︎ ♋︎♍︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ □︎■︎♍︎♏︎📬︎ 🕈︎♒︎♓︎●︎♏︎ ⧫︎♏︎♋︎♍︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎■︎♑︎ ⬧︎⧫︎◆︎♎︎♏︎■︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♌︎♋︎⬧︎♓︎♍︎⬧︎ □︎♐︎ ◻︎♒︎⍓︎⬧︎♓︎♍︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ ♋︎ ⧫︎♒︎❒︎♓︎●︎●︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♏︎⌧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎📪︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♐︎♋︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎ ♌︎◆︎⬧︎⍓︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎ ❍︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ □︎♐︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⬧︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎⬧︎📬︎

[The Queen’s school has been transformed into more than a field of tents. The area of the Grand Cavern it was located in is now a district of New Home, filled with gardens (taken care of by King Asgore himself! I’m not really that surprised if I’m being honest), and areas for recreation and play. Though the school’s primary focus is the younger generations, there are many adults who still attend the classes just as they did before. Various invitations go out asking Monsters to come in and teach on any subject they are an expert in. I’ve received a few myself, though I’ve only actually accepted once. While teaching young students about the basics of physics was a thrilling experience, I am far too busy to spend too much of my time with such things.]

💧︎□︎ ❍︎♋︎■︎⍓︎ ♍︎♒︎♋︎■︎♑︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎ ❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎ ♍︎♒︎♋︎■︎♑︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♎︎♋︎⍓︎📬︎ ❄︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ◻︎♋︎⬧︎⬧︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♒︎□︎●︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎⍓︎♍︎●︎♏︎ ♒︎♋︎⬧︎ □︎■︎ ◆︎⬧︎ ♑︎❒︎□︎⬥︎⬧︎ ●︎♏︎⬧︎⬧︎ ♌︎⍓︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎♋︎⍓︎📬︎ ☞︎□︎❒︎ ♋︎●︎●︎ ♓︎■︎⧫︎♏︎■︎⧫︎⬧︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎⬧︎📪︎ ⬥︎♏︎❼︎❖︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎♒︎♓︎♏︎❖︎♏︎♎︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎●︎♍︎♒︎♏︎❍︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ❍︎□︎■︎♋︎❒︎♍︎♒︎ ⬥︎♋︎■︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ⬧︎□︎ ♎︎♏︎⬧︎◻︎♏︎❒︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♌︎♋︎♍︎🙵 ♓︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬥︎□︎❒︎●︎♎︎ ✋︎ ◆︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ♌︎♏︎♐︎□︎❒︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎❒︎♓︎♏︎❒︎📬︎ ✋︎❍︎❍︎□︎❒︎⧫︎♋︎●︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎📬︎ ☞︎❒︎♏︎♏︎ ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ❄︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ✌︎♑︎♏︎📪︎ ♐︎❒︎♏︎♏︎ ♐︎❒︎□︎❍︎ ◻︎♏︎❒︎❍︎♋︎■︎♏︎■︎⧫︎ ♎︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎♒︎📬︎

[So many changes, and still more changing every day. Time passes. The hold the cycle has on us grows less by the day. For all intents and purposes, we’ve achieved what every alchemist and monarch wanted so desperately back in the world I used to know before the barrier. Immortality. Free from Time and Age, free from permanent death.]

✌︎■︎♎︎ ⍓︎♏︎⧫︎⑤︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎◻︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎⑤︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ✋︎❼︎❍︎ ❍︎♓︎⬧︎⬧︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎⧫︎♒︎♓︎■︎♑︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⬧︎⬥︎□︎❒︎■︎ ✋︎ ♒︎♋︎♎︎ ♋︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎📬︎ ✌︎ ⬥︎♓︎♐︎♏︎✍︎ 👍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎❒︎♏︎■︎✍︎ ✡︎♏︎⧫︎ ■︎□︎ ⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎♏︎ ❒︎♏︎❍︎♋︎♓︎■︎⬧︎📪︎ ■︎□︎ ❍︎♏︎❍︎□︎❒︎⍓︎📪︎ ■︎□︎ ♏︎❖︎♓︎♎︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ♏︎⌧︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎●︎●︎📬︎ ☹︎♏︎⬧︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ □︎♐︎ ❍︎♏︎ ♋︎♐︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ✋︎ ⬥︎♋︎⬧︎ ♏︎❒︎♋︎⬧︎♏︎♎︎📬︎ 💧︎⧫︎♓︎●︎●︎📪︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♌︎♋︎♍︎🙵 □︎♐︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♒︎♏︎♋︎♎︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ◻︎♒︎□︎⧫︎□︎ ♌︎●︎◆︎❒︎❒︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎ ❍︎◆︎♍︎♒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎◻︎♏︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ♓︎⧫︎⑤︎ 🕈︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎✍︎ 🕈︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♑︎□︎✍︎

[And yet… I cannot help but feel… like I’m missing something. I could have sworn I had a family. A wife? Children? Yet no trace remains, no memory, no evidence that they ever existed at all. Less than there was of me after I was erased. Still, I can feel them there, at the back of my head like a photo blurred too much to properly see. I know they were there. I know it… Where are you? Where did you go?]

☼︎♏︎⬧︎⧫︎□︎❒︎♋︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎ ♋︎⧫︎ 🖰︎🖮︎🕭︎📬︎📬︎📬︎ ✌︎ ●︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ ❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎📬︎ ☺︎◆︎⬧︎⧫︎ ♋︎ ●︎♓︎⧫︎⧫︎●︎♏︎ ●︎□︎■︎♑︎♏︎❒︎📬︎ 🕈︎♏︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎📪︎ ◻︎●︎♏︎■︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎📬︎