I Love Absurdity. Don't you?

Chaoter 3

Things had quietened on Earth, (it still sounds odd talking about my home world when I’m not there), since we’d left it in Waiara’s care. She was busy obtaining other warriors via the aid of shiny gifts while we were left to acclimatise ourselves to life under Eria Secob’s rule.

To that end we found ourselves on something which, by a stretch of the imagination could be called a troop ship. It could also be called a planet. Strange though this may sound good reader, we had been deposited on one of the quote, ‘war worlds’ unquote of the Kingdom. This self sustainable flying oddity was home to some twelve billion colonists from all manner of species. Of that number, there were some fifteen thousand knights ready to descend upon my Earth as soon as we reached it. That may seem small but they, I mean we were just there to sweep away the undeserving. These I’m happy to say formed a staggering minority of the total population, though having said that their numbers were far from small. The streets would truly run read with blood my friend, make no mistake.

Until we arrived, which could be a matter of weeks or months depending on how quickly Waiara worked, Mr. Michael and myself were effectively left to do what we wished. The town we’d been left in had effectively been set aside for Knights of the Excaliban Kingdoms, on every street, among the utterly unfathomable ‘buildings’ that had been designed for use by strikingly different creatures then you or I, there were armourers, weapon smiths, bars, brothels, the list goes on and becomes progressively more strange. You’ll see what I mean later.

One such example was of a large, green area that looked like a cross between a hedgerow and an ant colony. It was here that a colony of ‘Gihkilbarakalmar’ was maintained. These beasts can only be described as blue, winged hamsters with pointed faces. Their urine is an excellent source of protein apparently.

So much to learn and a whole city of untold wonders stretched out before us. We were two hapless imbeciles stranded on a partially alien planet with no friends, no money, no particular knowledge of local customs. To put it simply, we had no clue.

That should have been terrifying, but amongst all our uncertainty and fear, there was Eria, watching us from a hitherto unknown and distant part of our brains, reassuring us that there was nothing to worry about. And we knew she was right, this was an Excaliban world after all, general purpose nastiness here was about as common as flammable ice.

As entertaining as you probably would have found our directionless wanderings on the streets of this alien city dear reader had you seen us in person, it doesn’t really suit the purposes of the story. Let me move forward to a more interesting part of our oddly timed holiday.

_________________________________________________________________________

Boys like guns, it is a primary omniversal law. It was this little fact that drew us into a smallish looking stone building on the end of one seemingly semi-circular street. From outside it was adorned by about fifty signs, all written in different languages and all saying the same thing, the one we finally found in English stated the unpretentious words, ‘Gahatak’s armoury’. This seemed as good a place to start as any, maybe we could ask advice from within as well as to where best for nooblings such as ourselves to head. Also if I’m honest, we wanted to see what other technological marvels the Kingdoms had to offer. That’s not to say we weren’t happy with the gifts we’d had bestowed upon us, but it is as I said. Boys like guns.

The shopkeeper had six arms, each of which seemed to spread out two meters from his body. This coupled with his numerous elbows made him look a lot like a spider. I guess I should have guessed by his name that he wasn’t going to be human. Not that that’s a bad thing, I just would have felt a little more at ease among my own kind for the time being.

I’d spent so much time hiding from my fellow human beings, but now that I was separated from all but one of them I have to say, I missed them.

Gah, enough of that. I was soon to discover that there was plenty to distract me from this awkward feeling and I don’t particularly want to risk dousing your interest with my meaningless troubles of old.
“Welcome my lads,” Said the shop keep amiably as we entered. He extended two lengthy right hands for us to shake. “Lady Waiara Secob herself told me that you two might be stopping by and asked me to prepare some introductory gifts for you.”
“How would she we’d come here?” Mike asked, taking the offered hand.
“Well I exaggerate,” Came the reply, “Truth to tell she said you’d be in the area and asked us all to do what we can to make you feel welcome in this your moment of uncertainty. And do so I shall.”

The revelation that someone could know what I was feeling almost before I was feeling it was less then pleasant, as perhaps Waiara could now feel my indignation at such a fact, or maybe had felt from me for herself. I think that made sense. I very much doubt you’d be surprised to learn that privacy means a lot to Mike and I. Still, there were more important things to consider right now.

Then again, maybe I was reading too much into it, maybe it was just obvious what Mike and I would be going through right now.

Our new spidery friend snaked off through a door behind the counter, asking that we bear with him for a minute or two. We were left to gawk quite happily at the truly beautiful devices that adorned the walls and ceiling. Some were, as you can imagine, firearms with barrels, handles and triggers, how many they had though and how they were arranged was something that varied considerably. Most of these weapons it seemed were designed for creatures other then the humble biped.

The blades for the most part looked the same. One of more pointy bits, apparent handles stretching backwards and allowing for a grip. There were some that appeared to be all blade, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of creature might wield them. For the most part though the sight of all these beauties were making me fantasise about what they might do to one of the un-ones should they find themselves on the receiving end. I also thought about the second to last gang of chavs we’d eviscerated and wondered whether it might have been more fun to deal with them via the aid of the ‘Lynx Mk IV radial disruptor’, for so it was apparently named, that was lying peacefully atop a counter near a window facing the street. Outside, a seemingly humanoid mother and her four children, all of whom had tails, strolled casually by as I was looking. I tried not to stare good reader but there was no shaking the culture shock. I don’t think they paid me any heed anyway.

“Right, here we go.”

I turned my gaze back towards the shop keep who was holding two featureless looking black sheets in two of his hands.
“What’s…?” Before Mike could finish speaking, one of the sheets lunged at him and twisted itself round his now flailing frame. As he tried in vain to shrug whatever it was off, it seemed to expand and take the form of a stately, albeit somewhat plain looking black uniform with a grey trim. Not to sound too flattering of the man, but it really did suit him.

Having seen what the effect was I’m pleased to say that I received my own new uniform with a little more grace then Mike. I was expecting something identical, but instead found myself clad in an impossibly lightweight black metallic shirt which is best described as a freakish cross between a suit of armour and a V-neck sweater. Accompanying it was a pair of blue jeans that looked, for lack of a better word, odd. Kind of like they were made out of stone. Both bore the crest of the Excaliban knights.

“Standard issue warrior-wear.” Chortled Gahatak, “Customised for a specific individual, these will change to suit whatever situation you might find yourself in, be it the battlefield, the streets, the bedroom, the list goes on.”
“Impressive.” I muttered pathetically while glancing at my right arm, then suddenly regretting my choice of word, it seemed arrogant somehow, I guess I was just being overly cautious however, Gahatak certainly didn’t seem to care.
“I thought you’d like them.” He said, “Ah, but you two didn’t come here for clothes did you? Let’s see what tools of the soldiering art can satisfy your tastes shall we?

And do that we did. I won’t reveal our purchases just yet good reader, suffice to say that we left with a number of armaments, all of which we stored in two specially designed pocket universes created by our own imagination and made real by Lady Secob herself, ready to be snatched up if needed. It took me a little while to get my head around that concept. A miniature parallel universe which exists inside my head to serve as my personal storage closest? That can’t be right.

For a humble human from a young and dismal realm where no one can fly and boredom was the default emotion of the people, this place was a tidal wave of experiences and wonders, try as you might, you couldn’t help but get swept away by it.

_________________________________________________________________________

“Escape! I have to escape! These fiends won’t keep me here to…”

A long pink, tendril shot forth out of the doorway and ensnared the half naked escapee. He barely had time to mutter some insincere curse that I didn’t understand before he was pulled back in to a dimly lit room. A few seconds later there was the distinct sound of giggling from him and three female voices. The obvious question of course is why exactly did he seek escape? Ah well, who cares? He certainly didn’t seem to.

Elsewhere, someone who looked human was firing crossbow bolts into windows. He was yammering on about uncouth ruffians. Or at least I think that’s what he said, it was all pretty disjointed. Above him there was some manner of octopus beast with two heads, or one head and one head-shaped growth, who was throwing fruit at the crossbowman.

Don’t look for sense here good reader should you ever grace its presence. Here being the aptly named ‘insanity level’. A remarkable place fashioned from a disused part of the city. Basically, if someone’s feeling a little stressed or has been working for one hour too long, they may come down here and relieve their tensions by way of ludicrous lunacy. In this place, a building is as likely to take a dislike to you and start hurling its windows in your direction as not, at which point you shall have to best it somehow. Or perhaps you might wind up being buried alive by a gang of battle foxes, which is more fun then it sounds due to the subterranean gravity defying nightclub whose name I can never remember. It may sound dangerous but rest assured, death in this place is largely impossible.

We had come here because we’d heard it was here we could shoot at things, and we, as I may have mentioned, were uncomplicated souls. Uncomplicated souls with newly purchased firearms.

Life, I remember reflecting, was pretty good.

The crossbowman seemed to take notice of us after recoiling from a grapefruit look-alike to the head. He let loose a shot at me, the bolt struck in the chest and my first reaction was the fairly reasonable one ‘Good Lord, I am mortally wounded’. I think Mike even got so far as to raise his weapon to return fire before we both realised that the only thing the bolt had done was turn me a bright shade of blue.

I was really getting tired of feeling shocked and awed at every little thing I beheld, and with Eria’s presence in my head helping me regulate my feelings, I found that my desire to act rather then feel was easier. With that said, we both raised our weapons and returned fire.

I missed, the shot from my smallish pistol shot across the distance and reduced an entire building to dust with a titanic explosion. It wasn’t designed to do that. Here however weapons tend to have different effects then simple destruction, the previous example notwithstanding.

Mike landed a rushed shot on our attackers elbow, of all places. The result I’m sorry to say was the loss of the man’s underwear, which wound up on my head. This crazy place apparently had it in for me.

I tore the offending garment from atop my cranium and fired again, and again and before our eyes the man was transformed into a small cat. He then skulked off, apparently conceding defeat. We watched him leave for a few seconds before the ground split in two and a large snake apparently swallowed him whole.

“That looked…odd,” Mike said, sounding a bit unsteady, possibly because of the large snake under the floor. Soon however he seemed to get into the spirit of the place as his next words were an excited ‘Forward! Forward!”

And forward we went, merrily flinging ourselves down the massive fissure in the Earth which the snake had opened up, we flew down a seemingly endless rocky hole which had the consistency of a bouncy castle. Upon landing we found ourselves in a small wooden room, similar to a typical English pub, minus a few details such as a bar, toilets, and a ceiling.

And so, standing on our necks at an angle that should have caused them to break under the sheer pressure, we found ourselves face to shin with two other individuals. One was the crossbowman who had apparently reformed himself. The other, well, how should I describe her? The other was a lithe, grey skinned woman with long straight black hair and two wings that looked sharp enough to serve as weapons should the situation warrant it.
“Hello.” I said cheerfully, pushing Mike’s leg off my head and trying to stand.
“Well done Haer’daral, you’ve led strangers to our spot.”

Haer’daral? Probably not human then. Guess that’s no surprise.

“This ain’t exactly a public place guys,” He said, “Clear off, if you please.”
“Oh,” I said, “Sorry, we’ll uh…” Then to Mike, “Why did we jump down here?”
“I don’t know, it just seemed…” He shrugged, “It just seemed like a good idea I guess. I thought we’d wind up in some weird and wondrous place or other.”
“Hmmm?” This came from the winged woman, when I turned to inquire about her inquiry I noticed that she was looking at Mike like he was a tuna sandwich. Haer’daral took a few steps back and before I could do so much as raise an eyebrow, she lunged at him.

The two wings punctured his two shoulders and he soon found himself pinned against the wall, which had moved itself several feet forward for convenience’s sake. For all my talk of regulating emotions, it was a little harder to pull my head out of my shocked, stunned arse when my friend was apparently getting impaled. Finally I remembered that I had a gun in my hand, I raised it, and a swift slash of a short sword sent half my arm falling to the floor. No pain, no weird creepy feelings. The limb just felt lighter.
“Calm down, it’s nothing to worry about.”

With that he plucked my severed forearm off the floor and replaced it, quick as you please, he attached it to my person like he was hanging a painting and I was once again whole. Mike, I noticed didn’t seem to be screaming in agony at his stab wounds, in fact he seemed quite content. It seemed whoever this woman was who’d shoved her wings in his torso had now apparently shoved her tongue down his throat. I gawped for a few moments and then started muttering the words ‘realm of insanity’ to myself.
“She does that.” Haer’daral said with a grin, “Allows for an exchange truths, she says. In this instance it’s an elaborate introduction.”
“Certainly elaborate. How does it work?”
“It works because she wants it to. And because the Empress allows it.”
“Right.” I know that there’s probably no way to say this without sounding jealous, and believe me or not, that’s not the case, but it’s uncomfortable to see someone fanging a man you’ve slept with. (We were drunk, we’d just blown a guy up with a firework and an oil laden phone box and the only place we could go was up, no pun intended.)

Anyway, the winged woman released Mike who fell to the floor in a graceless heap. He stayed very still for a few seconds. In moments of confusion he prefers to appear comatose rather then a stuttering buffoon. This alternate approach doesn’t help him much, but he does it anyway.

“I’m Haer’daral Rarkdsarat Turcotte.” The bloke said, extending a hand, “This is my friend Casrathi.”

It was then that something most odd happened. Mike and I were and for the most part always had been a brace of loners. Two intrepid souls against the world, but never a part of it. Now something which I’d previously thought denied to us had, maybe, presented itself. Friends? Could it be possible? We didn’t have friends. Too much of a risk for one thing, and other people tended to notice that we were just a little more odd then them. It never tended to sit right. We were killers after all, but then so were these people, probably. They bore the mark of Excaliban knights so in all likelihood they had a few notches of their swords.
“Predestination.” Casrathi said vaguely, “Optional, more or less. She led them here. Your friend tastes funny.”
“What?”
“You know, in situations like this it’s generally considered polite to shake the pre-offered hand.”
“Shit, sorry.” I said, taking the hand perhaps a little too vigorously. Once again I’d found my calm, collected personae shattered and was reduced to a nervous imbecile.
“I’m Mike,” Mike said, collecting himself as much as he could. “Or Ranger, occasionally”
“Sylvester ‘False Prince’ Wright.” I replied, in the back of my head Eria had whispered the words ‘no secrets, no fear’. In other words we shouldn’t feel embarrassed to tell them our call signs.
“Nice to meet you.” Haer’daral said.
“Goddess, what a desolate place we sail to save.” Casrathi sounded like she was thinking aloud.
“Eh?”
“Earth mate,” Mike said with a sudden gloom in his voice, “It’s really a shithole in comparison.”
“In comparison to what?”
“Everywhere.” Haer’daral answered, “Everywhere that isn’t in the grasp of ignorance.”
“Oh cut that out.” Mike and Casrathi said in unison. His voice I noticed had taken something of a choked feminine tone. He started shaking his head, like he was trying to shake something loose. I had to laugh.

“Ignore him,” Casrathi said, “Every other thing he says is from the tome. No original statements.”
“Thajasarkar.” Came the enigmatic reply.
“Hiiral Bakasja Satar.”
“Jgri’lasa Makgsa.”
“Cunt.” Now her voice sounded like Mike’s. Haer’daral cast a querying glance at me, apparently expletives weren’t included in the translation device, whatever shape or form such a thing took.
“Vagina.” I said, he nodded and was about to respond, but apparently having to get a translator for an exchange of insults took the impact out of it.

“You two have killed,” Casrathi said, turning her attention back to us, “But you’ve never been in an actual battle have you?”
“Well,” I started, then stopped, that was a good question. Surely that skirmish at the start of chapter 2 counted right? Us against a greater number of enemies? No, I guess not. They hardly fought back. But that’s not to say no one’s ever taken swings at us with knives, pipes and other assorted weapons.

“Every time you kill, you have to hide the body. The threat of retribution from law keepers hangs over your head at all times, overshadowing your triumph. You never get to fight and kill with the chance of glory, or even the peace of mind of knowing you’re doing the right thing. You two always had doubts at the back of your head, telling you that your ‘un-humans’ should be spared.”
“Not anymore.” I said. Mike was quick to nod in agreement.
“No,” Haer’daral said, “Not anymore, not now you’ve awakened.”
“And with our last kills, during our final test, I’d say we felt…”
“Yes,” Casrathi said, “You felt the certainty, you felt the love, same as all of us. But that was no fight Ranger. Those beasts barely even figured out that you were killing them. You might as well have been fighting rocks.”
“Sounds like you’re leading up to a challenge.” I replied.
“An invitation.” Haer’daral corrected, “Though I guess it could be described as a challenge, to an extent. Mike will fill you in.”

Mike took a little while to respond.
“Tyraea,” He said unsteadily, he had to pause in between each word, I’ll leave out the specifics for convenience’s sake. “It’s a neutral world. The Empress has her sights on it as well, it’s inhabitants they’re…They’re being attacked by the…by the…”
“By the Ghasalaka.” Casrathi said, coming to his rescue. By the looks of things the recollection of his newly acquired information was painful.
“You get used to it.” Haer’daral reassured him.”
“The Ghasalaka are a member race of a small, spacefaring Empire, they send new warriors to Tyraea to hunt the locals.”
“And the locals can’t fight back, their physically inferior and three hundred years behind the Ghasalaka in weapon’s technology.”
“Which is where we come in,” Mike chortled in his and Casrathi’s hybrid voice. “We go in and destroy a twelve strong Ghasalaka hunting party.”
“Make ourselves look like heroes in front of the locals.” Haer’daral added.
“And further facilitate Eria Secob’s introduction.” I finished. This sounded familiar. At that moment for all I knew, new Tyraean recruits for the kingdoms were making shows of power on Earth.

“Let’s go shall we?” Haer’daral said, leaping into the empty void where the ceiling should be and vanishing from sight. Casrathi propelled herself upwards after him, and we followed, eventually, after mastering the simple art of willing ourselves to fly in the insanity level. It never even occurred to me to think ‘hang on, maybe we don’t need to kill them’. I’m glad of that.

_________________________________________________________________________

Our new companions seemed quite pleased to be in the company of a portal generator such as Mike, without him they would have had to wait in a long line in a very large building listening to what apparently would have been largely shite background music and endless messages over the intercom talking about delays and newly announced forbidden territories. A typical train station in other words. Even Eria Secob’s divine mastery apparently couldn’t bring about the end of the day to day bureaucratic nightmares. Alas.

Tyraea was largely empty world of green fields, seemingly endless forests and small, isolated villages, each about twenty miles from one another. It was also bloody cold. The sun was hanging overhead but the wind was the kind that could lift people into the air along with their umbrellas.

“This way,” Haer’daral said, pointing at a faint area of brown at the top of a large hill. We started in that direction and it was then that I noticed, much to my relief, that my skin colour had changed back to normal.
“The locals are likely to take us for the spirits of their forefathers.” Mike said, “They don’t believe anyone can be a ghost unless they’ve been dead for two thousand years.”
“How do you know…?”

I cut myself off and remembered his and Casrathi’s elaborate greeting. Mike really was a lucky shite, it had to be said.
“So, what?” I asked, “Does this mean we have to act ghostly? Paint tribal markings on our shins?”
“It means they’ll probably make a point of hurling spears at us. Apparently casting a ceremonial spear through one of the good spirits brings luck.”
“How does that work.”
“The spear draws out some positive energy from the spirit and the Tyraeans draw such luck from the spear.”
“In other words,” Casrathi said, flexing her wings as she spoke, “Make sure you make yourself immune to stab wounds before we go inside.”

I called on Achilles and he assured me that in quote ‘battle mode’ unquote I’d be fully immune from conventional sharp pointy things.
“Anything else I should know, what about these Gala-er, things we’re supposed to route?”

It was kind of annoying to be the only one who was out of the loop, at the same time however I didn’t want to appear too interrogative as it might come across as me gesturing to Casrathi for an, er, exchange of information. That would be impolite.
“Lizzard like beasties with ray guns.” Haer’daral said, “Just point and shoot, they die as easily as…”

An explosion, clear as day and it originated in the village. We all stopped dead and, as was becoming far too much of a habit for me personally, just stared at it.
“Shit, we’re late!” Casrathi shouted
“I can see that,” Haer’daral said, extending a hand and somehow removing the flames from the scene before any buildings caught fire.
“Mike,” I said, “Get us there, now!”

Mike opened a suitably large portal and we stepped through into the battle zone, there were at least seven lizard shaped bipeds that I could see, all around them were terrified looking Tyraeans, who were three feet tall bipedal felines. They were fleeing in directionless terror, some were looking for hiding places, others were trying to escape the city. I noticed one body, and one severed paw.
“Makgsa.” Casrathi snarled, extending her sharp wings, “Come on boys, let’s kill them all.”

I empowered myself via Achilles’ aid and started looking for prey. My first target hadn’t noticed us, he was busy trying to shake loose a Tyraean who had leapt on top of his head, it looked like he was going for the Ghasalaka’s eyes. I aimed low with my pistol, doubled checked that it was set to kill rather then incinerate and fired. The beast shuddered once and then fell backwards. The Tyraean leapt upwards and then descended upon the beast’s throat, apparently unaware that it was dead.

I turned and saw another two reptilian creatures pinned against the side of a house by blades through their necks. A third was apparently looking at Casrathi and I can only assume he was asking himself just where the hell she had come from. Achilles sensed a slight whim in the back of my head, provided some extra power to my weapon, and my shot took the creature’s head clean off.

Mike, amazingly enough, had managed to rally a group of Tyraean’s around himself. They were busy keeping a Ghasalaka pinned down while he summoned a sword from God only knows where. Our new found furry allies scattered on cue as he drove the weapon into the creature’s guts.

Something hit me in the back of the neck. It felt like being hit by a paperclip, but when I turned round I found to my surprise that a Tyraean had indeed decided to lob a spear at me. Good natured gesture of not, was this really the time for such things I ask you?
“Mikilis.” She said with an a smile of sorts, then charged off to join a group of her comrades who were standing in front of a Ghasalaka like a group of meerkats in front of a snake. The change in the villagers was incredible, whereas only a few seconds ago they had been terrified and helpless, now they were taking to the fight to the enemy, and not doing too bad a job it seemed.

For all my lengthy descriptions however, I didn’t exactly have time to dwell on these oddities during the battle. Instead I found a Ghasalaka who had come out of a thatched hut to see what the change in the commotion’s tone was about, and I lunged at him.

One hit, and three of his ribs turned to paste. The splintered fragments tore through his only lung and shot out of his back. A second hit, specifically a kick to his left knee, and his leg broke in two. A third hit and his stomach and at least three other internal organs were reduced to paste. I left him to gasp and writhe away his last moments and searched around for any of his friends who were left.

Haer’daral was having a fun time of it, he had apparently beheaded one of the lizard men and was beating another to death with the severed head. Several of the villagers were cheering him on from the sidelines. Absolutely no one seemed afraid anymore.

The surviving Ghasalaka didn’t so much survive as do the other thing. Casrathi took off with one and dropped him from a great height. Mike opened a portal under another which caused a great height to spontaneously appear underneath him, or her for all I know. I think the Tyraeans took care of the rest. Despite the vast number of spears that seemed to be propped up against every doorway, they seemed to prefer using their teeth and claws to deal with an enemy.

“Un-ones” Mike said, clapping me on the shoulder after the battle had ended, “Most assuredly”.
“I’d guess so, after all they attacked this village of, well, surprisingly competent fighting fellows and fellowesses actually.”
“Ah, well as to that, you see,” He paused and scratched at his head for a minute, “Eria Secob resides in all of us, right? And with us here, she can inspire these guys. Take away their fear, that sort of thing.”
“I see,” I said, “You know, it would be nice if you’d fill me in on all those details you uh, ingested when we’ve got a free minute.”
“Don’t worry, soon enough it will all become clea…”

Mike cut himself off and oofed heavily as a spear rebounded off his testes. The shot was one in a thousand, and while it didn’t cause any serious damage, it still hurt apparently.
“Mikilis.” Said an elderly looking native, no sooner had I grinned my approval at his marksmanship then I found two more spears impacting on my head.
“Mikilis.”
“Mikilis.”
“You’re welc…” And another. “…ome”
“Mikilis.”

It took a while for the villagers to finish casting projectiles at us. I dread to think what my corpse would have looked like was I not relatively immune to damage. We intercepted two more raiding parties and slaughtered the hunters like rats. The more I killed them, the more I learned of them, or more accurately the more I killed them the more Eria showed me. I saw the Empire they were a part of, I saw worlds and their inhabitants torn apart from orbit by massive drilling machines so as to provide mineral deposits for ships which were built by slave labour. I saw how every day, ten or so of these captured slaves were thrown into feasting pens to be ripped to shreds and eaten by the reptilian crews. I saw an entire chapter’s worth of atrocities, and I wanted to punish the enemy for them. And that’s what I did, sorry that’s what we did. And soon, like the un-humans on Earth, this tin pot enemy Empire would be swept aside by the Excaliban Kingdoms, and the long suffering beings that it had oppressed would ascend higher then they ever thought possible under Eria’s rule.

All in all, a good time for the good guys, wouldn’t you say dear perceptive reader?

To be Continued.


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