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The camera points at a closed-door, before panning across a dark room, bathed in dark red lighting. We see Kiera sitting in a chair with a book in hand and reading glasses on.  Kiera: To Kiera, long time no speak. Hmmmmmm. Storytimes are always so fun. I really loved this new fiction title by our very own member of the Valor roster, Prince. I must say, I'm flattered that you decided to create a times bestseller all about me, it shows real dedication to your Megami. If you were here right now, I’d give you a gold star sticker and a pat on the head for your dedication to me.  She takes off the reading glasses and places down the book on the table beside her.  Kiera: Fortunately, I don’t need to hide behind this veil of weird letters. It’s 2021 anyway who even writes letters, Prince? Just talk like a normal human being, or send a text. You could even tweet like the rest of the roster loves to do for some reason, but no, you have to be the pretentious artsy guy.  Kiera pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath Kiera: I would like to take the air time that I have right now to talk about you though. No voice-overs or cringey videos of me writing a letter and pausing in thought, just a woman telling it how it is. Prince. Let’s not lie and say that you’re in good standing for this match first of all. You just took a beating at the hands of Mi Amor. Your last match was a loss at the hands of Jonathan. Not just a loss, but a complete beating, victimization. Your stock must be very low right now. Your body must be beaten and bruised, it's a wonder that you were even picked to be a part of this tournament. I respect the resilience. But that respect doesn’t get in the way of the fact that at the end of the day, you are just not in a good enough shape right now to go in the ring with me one on one, let alone with Alex Costa in the mix too.  She very overdramatically ponders for a moment before chuckling and looking at the camera Kiera: Oh but no wait, even if you were full health you didn’t have a chance. Aha, I should have known. It's YOU after all Prince! If there’s one thing that all three of us have in common, its failure, I will be the first to admit that, but at least I’m coming into this one with a hot streak. You are coming off of the beating from Jonathan, a failed defence of your title, a history of making yourself a joke with comedy in order to pop the crowd, all to hide the fact that if you were really serious just for one moment, if you stopped hiding behind your stupid letters and gimmicks, you would be nothing but a loser. There’s two people in this world Prince, people who can face their flaws and change them, and people who run and hide from their problems, failing to improve themselves and dying with no achievements outside of when luck was on that side. I don’t know about you Prince, but I feel like the latter is pretty apt when describing you.  You took precious time in your letter talking about how I was blaming the crowd for my loss against Sameer. If anything, I said the opposite. I take great joy from their boo’s, the crowd will never be able to affect me negatively, because after all, they are all stuck in their dead end jobs, spending all of their money to come and see me, their Megami. I am their leader, they are underneath me, bowing down to me at every show with their money in hand ready to hand over. Not understanding that Prince, it really hurts. It’s disrespectful. You haven’t been listening to what your Megami has been saying. Usually, a violation of this sort is worth a beating on the spot. But I will let you off this one time. You have enough punishment coming to you very very soon.  We were Young & Free. We both aren’t young anymore. But there is only one of us that is free. It is me. Kiera Black. Free from the chains of my past, free from the judgment of the people. Free of any kind of worry. Your Megami is the one who has seen the light here, not you. You are the one still shackled to your chains, you remain in the dark locking yourself in the prison of self-deprecating comedy and gimmicks. I want so desperately to set you free because seeing someone who was once my friend fall down the hole so far really pains me. You are addicted to the bright lights, the fame, the roar of the crowd whether it's a laugh, a cheer or a boo. I want to help you so much Prince. So, so much. But any progress with an addict can only come mutually and you just don’t seem ready to put the pipe down, you just need one more hit and so you sit there, pen in hand, voice over playing. For what? Your next fix? You don’t need to worry about it anymore though Prince. You needn’t worry anymore. Your Megami is coming, she’s coming to help you. Set you free of your chains. Make you see the light that made itself clear to me. Whether you like it or not, you will be bowing down to your Megami by the time the bell tolls. I just hope that the beating I give you is enough to save you before you really embarrass yourself.   Kiera turns around and turns on the TV, where we see the final moments of Prince VS Jonathan and the vignette fades to black, Valor returning to its regular scheduled programming. 

What a fucking show. I think my tiredness at the end of occasion and the overall wear of a four hour wrestling show zapped a bit of my enjoyment in the moment, but this was a very good show from a match by match perspective, though I think the overall show as a whole was odd. I would recommend so many matches on this card to somebody who wants to get into Joshi or a fan who missed the show, but I don't think I would ever tell them to watch the whole of the show, regardless it would be impossible to say any of these matches were bad, two disappointed but they were just not up to the quality of the whole show, just an incredible night of wrestling. I'll share some thoughts on some matches, don't feel like talking about everything. In order, I'll talk about them from my favorite to least favorite, here we go: Momo v Nanae Best match on the show for me personally because I am unable to separate my bias when it comes to Momo. I'm very upset that I knew the result of this match before it happened, but God this match still went fucking insane. Momo is the fucking man, in every sense that that phrase is applicable in, and Nanae is just as good, they are just two incredible Joshi who went to town for each other with no reprieve. This match was so brutal, everything was done so snuggly and they stiffed the fuck out of each other with everything they did. Momo's Somatos looked deadly, the forearms Nanae threw were top tier, every kick landed and perhaps this wasn't the best sounding stiff match, but you could see every follow through being completed. I love this match so much outside the finish, but it was to be expected. I hope that Momo gets some positive direction soon but I know she won't. I don't know, they've booked themselves into a corner with Momo. She's lost everything to everyone, maybe MOMOAZ have a tag run now but idk, they'll just lose again. Queen's Quest have become a second thought as of late, they are definitely the least respected stable in terms of protection, even Oedo Tai got elevated into an angle with STARS so they have direction, maybe they feud more with DDM now that Giulia is prob coming for Red Belt in the near future, I guess that would be cool but DDM seem to be going full domination arc. I think QQ will have to drift for a while, maybe Momo can go back to SEAdLINNNG to try to avenge her losses and turn the corner, but I'm overall wary of what's to come for Momo and the rest of QQ. Yoshiko v Mayu STS did a highlight video on it, peep if u wanna get a taste of the match Probably the objective best match of the show, everything I thought it would be. I struggle to come up with things to say about this match because it had an expectation that was clearly laid out and met that in every facet. The sequences in this match were incredible, the brutality of Yoshiko hopefully opened her up to more people, she has phenomenal matches in SEAdLINNNG, her trilogy with Sareee is phenomenal, her Iroha matches as expected are incredible, her Nanae/Arisa/Tsukasa matches need no explanation, she is the definitive ace of SEAdLINNNG and one of the best active Joshi. Mayu did the Mayu thing, get her ass kicked first half, epic gamer mode second half, that sequence though where Yoshiko drops Mayu to sleep with a wicked forearm, Mayu wakes up in epic gamer mode, forearms Yoshiko to sleep, and then is folded in half by the two Yoshiko lariats to set up Yoshiko's final flurry is incredible, and Mayu's epic gamer mode finishes never lose their luster for me, regardless of how many times I see them, the flip she has is unlike any other. I think from here she gets Konami and Bea matches, maybe (probably) wins Cinderella to get the Tam match that she so desperately wants, would make for good shit. Idk when she gets the reprise on her Ace run, but I don't see her declining any time soon, pumped for her upcoming stuff even if she's the biggest villain in wrestling history. Syuri v Konami I'm so very conflicted on this match. Okay so, obviously I liked this match because I have it so high but like, this match has left me perplexed like no other. I liked it, it was good and stiff and snug and they wasted absolutely no time firing off on each other. The chain wrestling on display was rly good, their transitions were smooth and Konami and Syuri's (esp Konami) ability to pick out improbable submissions and selling the transition incredibly well was just the best part of this outing, followed by the kicks. The MMA angle worked in this match was very compelling, which is why I liked the finish. MMA matches end suddenly, 50/50s decided in seconds, and this finish, that fucking Triangle being reversed into a stepover Brock Lock was just muy caliente, one of the best submissions I've seen and that shock finish was really really well done. But at the same time, they built so much stuff to make it seem like this match was gonna go so much longer. They have Konami tell Tora to not interfere because she wants to beat Syuri clean and no pay off unless I'm supposed to believe Bea pushing the rope toward Konami was the big pay off to that. Konami comes out with all he toes out and throws maybe four or five kicks, we couldn't even kick a cheeky spinning heel kick from either side, none of Syuri's big kicks came out either, it just... so much potential here left untapped in the end, it just hurts man. Wanted a 30 minute outing and got 8, still great match tho. I've invented a very asinine head cannon that Jungle Kyona returns and beats Syuri for the title, fighting for the Republic of Senegal instead of Japan so she is still open to facing Japanese competitors, meaning we can get Konami challenging again, Momo singles match, Mayu match maybe if Mayu is fucking around for a little bit, originally contrived for the White Belt but I know that that reality is even less likely than this one so I resign all my hopes in this Jungle Kyona: Senegalese Superstar, God this is never gonna happen is it. ig we can talk ab that for the Tam/Giulia match. AZM v Poi POI! Great match POI! POI POI POI!  POIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! Once again POIving you don't have to be smart POI to be a chamPOIn. Great match, they did some wild shit, final flurry was cool. Giulia v Tam You know, I don't mind the result, I think we'll still eventually get DDM with all the titles and drop accrued, and bald Giulia will go crazy, Tam is cool, I'm not as high on her as others but she's pretty cool, she bust out some extremely batshit spots in the close of this match. I don't have a lot to say about the match because I was trying not to pass out from exhaustion, but yeah. I don't know where they go from here necessarily, safe money is on Mayu match after Mayu wins Cinderella, I hope they don't cuck Tam out the gate but it is an avenue I can see them taking. I'm not sure enough on Tam's history outside Mayu and Giiulia to recommend a match for the future, I assume they'll job Momo out to her or something, I rly think Momo should go on a run in other Joshi pros for a while but whatever. I think Tam should drop to Jungle anyways, some time in like September whenever Kyona is fully cleared, it has the Stars retribution and all like please Bushiroad. Then Kyona/Konami, Kyona/Momo, and Momo/Konami bc of this ofc, so much to do here, plz Bushiroad plz. Rambo Momoe Nakanishi and Yuuri Haruka carried this match on their backs I swear to God they did. Very chaotic match, very good watch party match because of all the wild shit that happens in it. Cosmic Angels omegapog, UNAGI WON A MATCH LETS FUCKING GO! I'm happy the Happy Boob Girls stood together at the end of the match, absolutely adored the match and extremely happy ab the result. Saya/Utami good match, idc ab the Bea challenge. Tag was cool, Saki gets better and better, MaiHime looked extraordinary, Tora is a menace.

Finisher: Midas Touch (double wrist-lock knee strike to a kneeling opponent)   Uber Finishers: Triangle Lancer (Kneeling Step-Over Head-Hold Armbar Choke) Final Lancer (Kneeling Step-Over Head-Hold Armbar)

We are live on Valor, hours away from the final match to determine the Number One Contender for the Valor Atlas Championship. We suddenly cut to a pre-taped vignette of a man looking at his cabinet. A bunch of titles are on display but the man seems depressed. We do eventually zoom in and see that the man in question is Alex. Alex Costa: Do yall know what I see when I look at all these accomplishments whenever I walk past them? It's a painful reminder of where I was before I signed with this company, a reminder that I was amongst the best. Yet it seems ever since 2019 I have been cursed with this tag of never managing to get the job done. No matter how hard I try, how much I work for, I can't seem to win when it matters. Alex then takes a seat in an armchair in the room. I could be like others in this company and easily blame others for my failures, talk about conspiracies, management holding me back, people making political decisions but the truth is those are just lame escuses. At the end of the day if you are good enough to succeed you don't hide behind those failures, you learn from them, you use them to improve. After losing to you last year Prince, I learned that you are doing whatever it takes to win, even resort to cheap tactics if you have to. It's funny you always mention your time in the Karico Brand, your time with Bart, almost as a reminder that you can never truly let go of the past. Bart who has surpassed you, way beyond belief. In a way his time with the Karico Brand is almost like a whisper, something that people don't mention at all. And that pisses you off doesn't it Prince? It pisses you off that matter what you accomplish, no matter what you do, you can never measure up to him. Just like you can not measure to me anymore. I've learned from our match last year and I am not the same guy you faced last year. Last year all I was a man lacking focus, following orders. And the orders were simple, help Raven get the North American Championship. And I was willing to do it, I was willing to sacrifice myself to help a man who I consider like a brother to me. Do you have family yourself Prince? Have you ever truly had to do whatever it takes to help someone closer to you than blood? I want you to ponder these questions deeply Prince and then tell me if I am correct. Alex then turns around to begin speaking about his second opponent the Megumi Kiera Black. It's been almost a year since we've met hasn't it Kiera? The Intercontinental Championship match at BPZMania, how does a year change things. But my respect for you still exists, but I have to question. You say it's your destiny to face Mikey? You are very misguided Kiera, it's not your destiny to be the one to face Mikey, you are not the one that got screwed over by him. You are not the one who got the pleasure of screwing him back and denying him his place in the Main Event of BPZMania. That honor, that destiny it belongs to me. Now I like the atitude you are showing at the end of the day, these fans can cheer for us, they can boo us for what we do. But we control our fate, our actions, our path. It's not up to them to decide what we must do, it's up to us. Unfortunatly for you and for our World Heavyweight Champion I might have to do something regretful towards you in order to get what I want. And what I want it is to be the one to eliminate the stain on Valor that is Bad Influence. Mikey, you and your goons have run over this brand for far too long. Tonight is just the first step when I win this match, and god I will do whatever it takes to win this damn match, I am going to look you straight in your damn eyes and tell you how much I want to beat the living piss out of you for what you have done last year. Our story is not over until I say it's over. And it will only be over when I take everything you hold dear. So Prince, Kiera, I am sorry to have to do this but as everyone witnesses, I will if necessary let your bodies be left broken in that ring. And as my hand is raised and I am declared the winner I will simply look down on you both as you lie down in the middle of the ring bloody and broken and simply... LET IT RAIN! The camera immediatly fades to black as we cut to a commercial break, it will happen later tonight, Alex Costa, Kiera Black, Prince who will advance to BPZMania? We shall find out

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩 "𝙄𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮'𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙. 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝙒𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚. 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙭. 𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙫𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙤 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝." 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙢𝙨 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚. 𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤 𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙, 𝙖 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩. 𝙎𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚. 𝙒𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢, 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧, 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚. 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚. 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣. 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙨, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘? 𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙨𝙤 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙘? 𝙏𝙤 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚. 𝙏𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙥𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨, 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙨. 𝙏𝙤 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙞𝙨, 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚, 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙨𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩. 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚. 𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙯𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝘼 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙨, 𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨, 𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙚. 𝙐𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙄𝙛 𝙬𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚, 𝙬𝙚'𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝙃𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣, 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙬. 𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤 𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨, 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙪𝙥. 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙠𝙣𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚. 𝘽𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬𝙚𝙧, 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢. 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙤. 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨, 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙠𝙣𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙨, 𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙨𝙩. 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧, 𝙖𝙨 𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤 𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠. 𝙄𝙩'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨, 𝙖 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙭 𝙤𝙛 𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙥𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡. 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙤. 𝘼 𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙠𝙣𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚, 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙣. 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚. "𝘼 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙡, 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙯𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙩. 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨. 𝙃𝙢𝙢𝙢? 𝙐𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙, 𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙢. 𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚. 𝙄𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙞𝙩? 𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝. 𝙉𝙤, 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙪𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩. 𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡. 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡. 𝘼 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙖𝙗𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙. 𝙎𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙪𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚. 𝙄 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙮 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙛𝙪𝙡. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙙𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙚. 𝙎𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙄 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙄 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙞𝙩, 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨. 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙫𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙. 𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙙𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨. 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨. 𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝. 𝘼 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨, 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛. 𝘼𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞-𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚. 𝙏𝙧𝙮 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚. 𝙄𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙢? 𝘼 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙, 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧. 𝙒𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙢? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚? 𝘿𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝙄𝙩'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚. 𝙒𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙞𝙩? 𝘿𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚? 𝙄 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚. 𝙄 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚. 𝙄 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨. 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙄 𝙥𝙪𝙨𝙝 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙄 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧. 𝙀𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙨? 𝙉𝙤. 𝘿𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢? 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩. 𝙎𝙤....𝙄'𝙢 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙢𝙨𝙮, 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙜, 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙪𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙮. 𝙄 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙨𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚. 𝙒𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣." 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙪𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮. 𝙃𝙚'𝙨 𝙖𝙬𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙮, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠. 𝙃𝙚'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚. 𝙃𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨, 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙬𝙞𝙥𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙠𝙣𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚. 𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮. 𝙃𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙩, 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙢. 𝙃𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙃𝙚 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣, 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙬𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚. 𝘼𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙡. 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙥, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙡. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙩𝙖𝙭𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙃𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙡 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙨   "𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙤, 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙄'𝙢 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧. 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨, 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙞𝙩? 𝘽𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧. 𝙄 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙮. 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝, 𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙨, 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙. 𝙋𝙧𝙤 𝙬𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚. 𝙐𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙄 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙩𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙄 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣. 𝙄 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙝𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙞𝙣, 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙄 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚. 𝙃𝙤𝙬...𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙮. 𝙄 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙. 𝙄𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠. 𝙄 𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤 𝙬𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮, 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧....𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙩. 𝙒𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙬𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙞𝙚-𝙪𝙥𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨. 𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙏𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄...𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙨𝙤 𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙. 𝙄𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣. 𝙄 𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙤, 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙'𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙄 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝. 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡? 𝙔𝙚𝙩 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬. 𝘼 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙨. 𝘼 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚. 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙡𝙚. 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙. 𝙆𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧. 𝙆𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙚. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮. 𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙤...𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚." 𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤 𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙡 𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙧. 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙮𝙚. 𝙒𝙝𝙤'𝙨 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙣? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢? 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙨, 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚. 𝙋𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮. 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙥, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙠𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚. 𝙃𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 2𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚. "𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣, 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧. 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙚. 𝙎𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙤𝙨𝙚, 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤 𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝘼𝙘𝙩 1. 𝙆𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨, 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨. 𝙒𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜? 𝘿𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙩? 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙙, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙄'𝙢 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚. 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙢𝙚, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙮, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚, 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙚. 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙞𝙩. 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙡𝙮. 𝙆𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚." "𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙏𝙬𝙤 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨. 7 𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚, 14 𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨. 𝘼𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙚, 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚. 𝙍𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙗𝙮? 𝙄 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝. 𝙄 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚. 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙪𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚. 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙧, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙚, 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣....𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙞𝙩? 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝." "𝙄 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙚." 𝘽𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙, 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚. 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙭. 𝙄𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝. 𝘼𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙥 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙. 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙞𝙨𝙝, 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙗𝙞𝙜 𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙙, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣. 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚. 𝙔𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙘𝙮, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙄𝙩'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤 𝙉𝙚𝙧𝙤. 𝘼 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡.