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Maelstrom Vortex
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Maelstrom was happy with the growth of Dragonisia. Its cities sprung up across its domain, championed by the Order which it had joined. Its power grew and its capacity to wage war grew at an astounding pace, although it remained for now, at peace. His people and their new found associates were persistent in keeping a steady rate of growth. It still had far to rise in the world, but he was content with its progress always taking the long game to its extreme in the immortality that the Gift from Istaria where he was born had granted him. While generations of humans, and even other dragons, would rise an fall around him. He and his Empress Koudoawaia never seemed to age a day. It was even reported that he lead a battle to crush a revolt in the hills of Eastern Kentucky.. fell to death, and yet somehow was found fine the next day. His corpse had gone missing from where it had fallen. He claimed he was just knocked conscious, but he knew the truth. He'd consumed his own body to hide his immortality because he knew it would be a concept that could make him and his beloved hunted. It was going to be hard enough to keep it a secret very long as they refused to age and wither, but best it was a gradual realization than a shock impressed upon the world of Orbis.

An extensive portal network was set up.. as now he was up to governing on 4 distinct and active worlds.

Edited by Maelstrom Vortex

 

V̢ͭ̔ͣͯͫ͐ͥ̄͗ͬ̄ͭ͏̹͖̺̲͕̦͉̣̙́i̡͕͙̺̗̻̹̘͇̋̽̆ͮ̈́́ͭ͢͢͞n̢̛̫̘͎̝̪̪͔̙̗̘͚͇͚̣̦ͫ̊ͩ͊͌͘͜͝i̡̱̭͉͔̘̖̠̲̺̍͐ͯ̌̈̾̾́̔͑̋ͬͯ̑̚͠ ̸̷̨̜̦͓͖͖̹̫̹̖̮͙̻̻̹̺̞͍̙ͥ̏̃ͨ̓͑̏͊̀ͯ̉ͯ̒͒͗̄̚V̢̢̡̙̻̳̘͖̖̟͚̣̬̏͐ͮ͒̎̈̽̽̾̂̔̅ͩͪͦ̑̿̏̍ͅͅi̶͍̮͈͇̰̫̯͉̜͒́̉̊̓̚͘̕ḑ̸͈̟̫̹̟͓̹̠͇̗͖̤̥̰̲̬ͮ̉ͫi̴͔̪͍͇͌̋̆̃͆̈̔ͧ͆̎̋ͥͫͫ́͢͠ ͕̞̠̯͍̫͚̪̺͓̣̦̖ͧ̓ͬ̎̀͝ͅV̴̨̤̙͔̥͍̟̦̥̺̟̯͔̤̫ͬͮ͑͌i̞͎̹͇̻͎̘̳̮̤͙̯̩ͪ̂͌̐ͪ͐̓̃ͧ̈̓͛̎̄̈͞͡ͅd̸̵̬̫͔͙̀̓͐̈́͜͡e͍̝̗̱̝͈̣̤̜̳͑̓͂̈ͯͤ̕͡v̸̖̰̟͈̠̰̣̮̦ͭ̆̑ͮͮ̾͊ͤ̒̊̊ͯ̈́ͬ͌ͭ̚͜ȏ̧͊̿͑ͯ̚͏̲̣̩̼͙ṙ̴̴̠̗̼̥͈̣̌͋̃̔̎̿ͨͥ͗̈̋̋̆̐̀ͩͦ̕͘͜ͅá̵̦͎̣͇̦̙͙͖̟̣̲̳̘̣̣̳̝͊̈́̐̇̑̔̈̉͒̆ͬv̵̨̭̝̯̫̞̜̭̭̘ͦͧͭ͋̂ͣͨͮ̑ͪͤ͌ͣ̒̽̾̾͢͠͡î̛̞̟̤͍̰̂ͪ͛̒̍̅͒̉̅ͥͯ̌̽̈́̾̈͛̏͡ț̷̲̟͎̰̟͇͖͖̻̼̰̞͎̯͚͚ͩͧͨ̆͗̕͢.̵̢̦̭̳̗͖͙̼̜̩̖̹̤͓͔̈́ͫ̂͊ͩͮͤ̕͢͡ͅ ̴̡̰̙̙͕̩͈̩̻͕̰̠͑̅̔ͩ͛ͩ͆̂̀̋ͬ͂̑̔I̶̢͇̖͖̥̠̳̘͚̓͋ͮͮ̊̽ͯ̈̽̒̓ͮ͂ͨ́͠f̶̴̥̗̙̳̫̜̥̗̞̳̍̅̎̍̒̒ͮ̇̈̊̿̚̕ ̸̢͕͇̜̙̩̭̮̱̈̓͆ͨ̄ͥͮ̽ͧ́́͘ͅy̡̱͚̺͈̳̤̺̞͎̻̮̣̤̘͖̥̗̬͒̊̉̅̆ͧ́͛̌̑ͣ̿̾͋̊̀͜͟͡o͚̳̯͙̬̦͉͚͙̦ͣͥ̿̏̌ͩ͗͌̎̆ͫ̌̿ͫͩͥ̕͝ͅu̷̲̘̖̯͈ͪ̔̇ͥͧ̈́̓ͬ̓͑ͨ̋̓̃̅͜͜ͅ ̸̢̖͇̜͖̺̙̲͙̻̫̝̣̗̈ͦ́͞a̶̢̢̰̻̰͍͎͙̺̪̪ͯͯ̄̋ͮ̒͛̅ͬ͆͐ͧ̃ͬͤ͛ͯ͟r̷̟̦͈͈̥̤̖̤͔͎̤͉̜̼͇͇ͭ͂ͩ̔ͥ̀͋ͨ̈́̊͐̈̆͒̓̃̎́̕͘͝e̶̱͓̜͙ͩ͒ͪ̂͛̋͆̈̂̌̌̒̂̐ͪ͗̓͐͠͞ ̴ͦ̉̏̓ͨͬ̐̓͛ͦ̽ͮ̎̎̓͟͏̶͏͖̩͙͕̗̘͉̯̫̹̱̺̻̞͇á̴̧̮̹̜͓͕͒̽̈ͤͪͮ͋̊̑̔ͤ͂̉͑͛̚͜t̛ͪͮ̈́̋̉͏̮̫͓͙̲͔̼ ̴̵͎̫̝̼͈̰͇̑͋ͤͩͮ͘w̵̡̥̫͉̯̯̭̪͈̜͎̤͇̙͎͖̳̝͛̄̔ͯ͐̓̅ͩ͑̃ͤͥ̕͢a̵̡̡ͦͫ͊ͣ̍̓͐͒̈̒ͧ͌̉͛͏͖͕̜͉͉r̵̛̘̞͙͕̉̄̔́̉̓ͯ͌̾̓̄͞͡ ̨͊̇̊͏̛͓͕̘̤͟͞w̢͚͎̥̙̜̠̻̫̹̮̦͛̑͒͋̏͗̊͜͞i̸̶̧͖͈̥͚̭̰̦̞̫̥̬̰̝͍̬̗̦͚̲ͨͨ̉͟t̸̵̵͖̦͉͕̱͇̐͑ͧ̋͆̀̔ͯͨ͌͆̚ḧ̵̛͎̫̬̣̩͇̥̞̭̼̜̩͕̈̐̂̌̍̎ͬͭ͌͠ ̛̘̫͔̹͓̻̗̻̲͉̞̞͚̩̯̮ͪ̔̌̿̍ͦ̀ͥ̍̎̿ͨ̽̀́͢͠m̶̶̡̭͎͎̤̩̹̩̞͇̦̼̳̝̑̅̑͛̽ͭ̅̓̆̍ͫͮ́̄͘ͅeͬ̊ͨ͂̿ͨ̊͝҉̸̺̰̯̤͚̖͜ͅ,̡͎̖͇̙͎̿ͨ̆ͤ̑́͡ ̷̸̫̲͕̻̫̰͇̖̳̗̙ͮ́̓̉ͯͭ̀́͜ͅp̆͐ͥ̐͒ͦ̐͊̂̓̈̊̽ͫ͊̊̇ͨ͠͏̸̼̘̦̺͈̠̰̤͚̝͙̰̺̩̰r̛͙̩̭͚̞͇̩̥̼̦ͯ̇̃̐̂̔ͫͯͫ̏ͭͤ̑̀̽̾͗ͫ̓̀̕͡ͅe̛̳͖͚͇͎͑͑̓̍̓͗͗̓̄ͦ͠͝͡p̸̘̮͉̼̯̲̻͔͕͇͖͖̟̗̭̹̘͚̗ͩ͗͛̉͒ͥ̀̌̆ͩͤ̃ͨ̽̿͒ͨ͠͠a̸̷͒̒̍̀͗͑͜͏̱̘̘̲̮̯̳̘̀r͙̜̝̲̯̝͔̦̺̗͉͚͉͙͍̠̓ͦ͊̿ͬ̈ͪ͂̌̚͟͡͡ͅe̶̪̱̪̟̣͉͉̹͈̫͇̝̪̮̙ͯ͂̈̈̓ͦ̍̂̾̏ͪ̏ͭͧ͛ ̷̧̭̝̺̗̟ͬ̾̏ͫ̕t̷̵̡͓͔̜͙̘͈̲͈̳ͦ̊̇̽̅̄̀ͮ̒ͪ͆̑̓͊́͝ͅǫ̶͈̞͚̹̻̤̲̙͖̪̍̃̐̏ͦͪͦͤͩ̽̿̿ͮͪ̿̀͂̀͡ ̡̤̹̲̜̪̞̽̽̓ͥ̒ͨ͊̐ͫ͗ͫ̐̈́̑ͥ̕͢͡b̴̨̨̛̦͇̪̠̺͔͙̤̜̉͐̓̌̀͟ͅͅë̢̼͔̗̰̦̼̘̯̟̩͚́͗͆͒͋̀͆̑̋ͩ̉̒͊ͬ͊̃ͪ̆͊͟͡ ̵̡̛̳̜̦̱͎̞ͤͣ̏͒ͯ̇̈́͗ͮ̇̎ͬͧc̴͍̞̼̹ͨͭ̇̒͌͗̉ͥͥ͗̓̎̌̅͒ͭ̇̅́o̧̧̤̘͕̬̰̣͔͖̘̥͖̜̐ͥ́ͤ̒̔͘͠ͅņ̶̛͔͎͍͉ͪ̾̃ͦ͛̈́̒̅̒s̶̷̸̙͍̹͎̬̜̦̞̤̥̦̙̞̥͚͈̬̋̃͒ͮ͒ͪ̆ͩͯ̒͋̾̒̾͋̅͌̓͡ǔ̶͚͈̠̭̻̜̉ͪ́̓ͩͤ̅̌̌̈̍ͤ̾̌͛ͥ͗ͦ͟͜͞m̛̯̪̘͍̜͕͕̞̤͖͉͉͔̞͙͈͓̐ͦͯ̽ͬ͒̾ͣ̓̒̔͛ͤ̎̏̈͜͝è̵̱̜̯̙͔̜̝͙̼̬̤̥̒̒ͣ͒̈́͊̀́̕͟ḑ̧̅͂̈͌̔ͧͤ̋ͤ́́̒̂̋͗͆ͮ̚҉̙͚̬̻͎͚̤͞.̴̨̺̜̟̯̹̪͋̋͆ͫͧ̐̔ͩ̉͌̋͋͞

 

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  • 1 year later...

Wars upon wars. Dragonisia had seem them before, and now they had come again, beset on all sides by adversaries tended to be when it grew the most."Charlatans all. They know not what they fight. The Dragonisians seemingly knew no end for when they were fallen simply more would be sent to the front. Dragons in their jet suits and with missile payloads under wing and belly, blotted out the skies and swarmed their would be aggressors, rending their air-fields and setting their armored columns to light, making way for the diversity of lessor biped races that constituted Dragonisia's ground forces to press forward.  The Pacifican war machine would not relent.. would not waver.. ever. He watched his troops fight and die.. age and seeing the same scene so many times before had left his heart and mind callous to the struggle to survive which was war. When ideology set upon ideology until one was ground into obscurity. He quietly shook his head.

"When they will learn the way? They should just all submit, they will be better for it." 
 

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V̢ͭ̔ͣͯͫ͐ͥ̄͗ͬ̄ͭ͏̹͖̺̲͕̦͉̣̙́i̡͕͙̺̗̻̹̘͇̋̽̆ͮ̈́́ͭ͢͢͞n̢̛̫̘͎̝̪̪͔̙̗̘͚͇͚̣̦ͫ̊ͩ͊͌͘͜͝i̡̱̭͉͔̘̖̠̲̺̍͐ͯ̌̈̾̾́̔͑̋ͬͯ̑̚͠ ̸̷̨̜̦͓͖͖̹̫̹̖̮͙̻̻̹̺̞͍̙ͥ̏̃ͨ̓͑̏͊̀ͯ̉ͯ̒͒͗̄̚V̢̢̡̙̻̳̘͖̖̟͚̣̬̏͐ͮ͒̎̈̽̽̾̂̔̅ͩͪͦ̑̿̏̍ͅͅi̶͍̮͈͇̰̫̯͉̜͒́̉̊̓̚͘̕ḑ̸͈̟̫̹̟͓̹̠͇̗͖̤̥̰̲̬ͮ̉ͫi̴͔̪͍͇͌̋̆̃͆̈̔ͧ͆̎̋ͥͫͫ́͢͠ ͕̞̠̯͍̫͚̪̺͓̣̦̖ͧ̓ͬ̎̀͝ͅV̴̨̤̙͔̥͍̟̦̥̺̟̯͔̤̫ͬͮ͑͌i̞͎̹͇̻͎̘̳̮̤͙̯̩ͪ̂͌̐ͪ͐̓̃ͧ̈̓͛̎̄̈͞͡ͅd̸̵̬̫͔͙̀̓͐̈́͜͡e͍̝̗̱̝͈̣̤̜̳͑̓͂̈ͯͤ̕͡v̸̖̰̟͈̠̰̣̮̦ͭ̆̑ͮͮ̾͊ͤ̒̊̊ͯ̈́ͬ͌ͭ̚͜ȏ̧͊̿͑ͯ̚͏̲̣̩̼͙ṙ̴̴̠̗̼̥͈̣̌͋̃̔̎̿ͨͥ͗̈̋̋̆̐̀ͩͦ̕͘͜ͅá̵̦͎̣͇̦̙͙͖̟̣̲̳̘̣̣̳̝͊̈́̐̇̑̔̈̉͒̆ͬv̵̨̭̝̯̫̞̜̭̭̘ͦͧͭ͋̂ͣͨͮ̑ͪͤ͌ͣ̒̽̾̾͢͠͡î̛̞̟̤͍̰̂ͪ͛̒̍̅͒̉̅ͥͯ̌̽̈́̾̈͛̏͡ț̷̲̟͎̰̟͇͖͖̻̼̰̞͎̯͚͚ͩͧͨ̆͗̕͢.̵̢̦̭̳̗͖͙̼̜̩̖̹̤͓͔̈́ͫ̂͊ͩͮͤ̕͢͡ͅ ̴̡̰̙̙͕̩͈̩̻͕̰̠͑̅̔ͩ͛ͩ͆̂̀̋ͬ͂̑̔I̶̢͇̖͖̥̠̳̘͚̓͋ͮͮ̊̽ͯ̈̽̒̓ͮ͂ͨ́͠f̶̴̥̗̙̳̫̜̥̗̞̳̍̅̎̍̒̒ͮ̇̈̊̿̚̕ ̸̢͕͇̜̙̩̭̮̱̈̓͆ͨ̄ͥͮ̽ͧ́́͘ͅy̡̱͚̺͈̳̤̺̞͎̻̮̣̤̘͖̥̗̬͒̊̉̅̆ͧ́͛̌̑ͣ̿̾͋̊̀͜͟͡o͚̳̯͙̬̦͉͚͙̦ͣͥ̿̏̌ͩ͗͌̎̆ͫ̌̿ͫͩͥ̕͝ͅu̷̲̘̖̯͈ͪ̔̇ͥͧ̈́̓ͬ̓͑ͨ̋̓̃̅͜͜ͅ ̸̢̖͇̜͖̺̙̲͙̻̫̝̣̗̈ͦ́͞a̶̢̢̰̻̰͍͎͙̺̪̪ͯͯ̄̋ͮ̒͛̅ͬ͆͐ͧ̃ͬͤ͛ͯ͟r̷̟̦͈͈̥̤̖̤͔͎̤͉̜̼͇͇ͭ͂ͩ̔ͥ̀͋ͨ̈́̊͐̈̆͒̓̃̎́̕͘͝e̶̱͓̜͙ͩ͒ͪ̂͛̋͆̈̂̌̌̒̂̐ͪ͗̓͐͠͞ ̴ͦ̉̏̓ͨͬ̐̓͛ͦ̽ͮ̎̎̓͟͏̶͏͖̩͙͕̗̘͉̯̫̹̱̺̻̞͇á̴̧̮̹̜͓͕͒̽̈ͤͪͮ͋̊̑̔ͤ͂̉͑͛̚͜t̛ͪͮ̈́̋̉͏̮̫͓͙̲͔̼ ̴̵͎̫̝̼͈̰͇̑͋ͤͩͮ͘w̵̡̥̫͉̯̯̭̪͈̜͎̤͇̙͎͖̳̝͛̄̔ͯ͐̓̅ͩ͑̃ͤͥ̕͢a̵̡̡ͦͫ͊ͣ̍̓͐͒̈̒ͧ͌̉͛͏͖͕̜͉͉r̵̛̘̞͙͕̉̄̔́̉̓ͯ͌̾̓̄͞͡ ̨͊̇̊͏̛͓͕̘̤͟͞w̢͚͎̥̙̜̠̻̫̹̮̦͛̑͒͋̏͗̊͜͞i̸̶̧͖͈̥͚̭̰̦̞̫̥̬̰̝͍̬̗̦͚̲ͨͨ̉͟t̸̵̵͖̦͉͕̱͇̐͑ͧ̋͆̀̔ͯͨ͌͆̚ḧ̵̛͎̫̬̣̩͇̥̞̭̼̜̩͕̈̐̂̌̍̎ͬͭ͌͠ ̛̘̫͔̹͓̻̗̻̲͉̞̞͚̩̯̮ͪ̔̌̿̍ͦ̀ͥ̍̎̿ͨ̽̀́͢͠m̶̶̡̭͎͎̤̩̹̩̞͇̦̼̳̝̑̅̑͛̽ͭ̅̓̆̍ͫͮ́̄͘ͅeͬ̊ͨ͂̿ͨ̊͝҉̸̺̰̯̤͚̖͜ͅ,̡͎̖͇̙͎̿ͨ̆ͤ̑́͡ ̷̸̫̲͕̻̫̰͇̖̳̗̙ͮ́̓̉ͯͭ̀́͜ͅp̆͐ͥ̐͒ͦ̐͊̂̓̈̊̽ͫ͊̊̇ͨ͠͏̸̼̘̦̺͈̠̰̤͚̝͙̰̺̩̰r̛͙̩̭͚̞͇̩̥̼̦ͯ̇̃̐̂̔ͫͯͫ̏ͭͤ̑̀̽̾͗ͫ̓̀̕͡ͅe̛̳͖͚͇͎͑͑̓̍̓͗͗̓̄ͦ͠͝͡p̸̘̮͉̼̯̲̻͔͕͇͖͖̟̗̭̹̘͚̗ͩ͗͛̉͒ͥ̀̌̆ͩͤ̃ͨ̽̿͒ͨ͠͠a̸̷͒̒̍̀͗͑͜͏̱̘̘̲̮̯̳̘̀r͙̜̝̲̯̝͔̦̺̗͉͚͉͙͍̠̓ͦ͊̿ͬ̈ͪ͂̌̚͟͡͡ͅe̶̪̱̪̟̣͉͉̹͈̫͇̝̪̮̙ͯ͂̈̈̓ͦ̍̂̾̏ͪ̏ͭͧ͛ ̷̧̭̝̺̗̟ͬ̾̏ͫ̕t̷̵̡͓͔̜͙̘͈̲͈̳ͦ̊̇̽̅̄̀ͮ̒ͪ͆̑̓͊́͝ͅǫ̶͈̞͚̹̻̤̲̙͖̪̍̃̐̏ͦͪͦͤͩ̽̿̿ͮͪ̿̀͂̀͡ ̡̤̹̲̜̪̞̽̽̓ͥ̒ͨ͊̐ͫ͗ͫ̐̈́̑ͥ̕͢͡b̴̨̨̛̦͇̪̠̺͔͙̤̜̉͐̓̌̀͟ͅͅë̢̼͔̗̰̦̼̘̯̟̩͚́͗͆͒͋̀͆̑̋ͩ̉̒͊ͬ͊̃ͪ̆͊͟͡ ̵̡̛̳̜̦̱͎̞ͤͣ̏͒ͯ̇̈́͗ͮ̇̎ͬͧc̴͍̞̼̹ͨͭ̇̒͌͗̉ͥͥ͗̓̎̌̅͒ͭ̇̅́o̧̧̤̘͕̬̰̣͔͖̘̥͖̜̐ͥ́ͤ̒̔͘͠ͅņ̶̛͔͎͍͉ͪ̾̃ͦ͛̈́̒̅̒s̶̷̸̙͍̹͎̬̜̦̞̤̥̦̙̞̥͚͈̬̋̃͒ͮ͒ͪ̆ͩͯ̒͋̾̒̾͋̅͌̓͡ǔ̶͚͈̠̭̻̜̉ͪ́̓ͩͤ̅̌̌̈̍ͤ̾̌͛ͥ͗ͦ͟͜͞m̛̯̪̘͍̜͕͕̞̤͖͉͉͔̞͙͈͓̐ͦͯ̽ͬ͒̾ͣ̓̒̔͛ͤ̎̏̈͜͝è̵̱̜̯̙͔̜̝͙̼̬̤̥̒̒ͣ͒̈́͊̀́̕͟ḑ̧̅͂̈͌̔ͧͤ̋ͤ́́̒̂̋͗͆ͮ̚҉̙͚̬̻͎͚̤͞.̴̨̺̜̟̯̹̪͋̋͆ͫͧ̐̔ͩ̉͌̋͋͞

 

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With the bulk of his adversaries air and naval forces dispatched, the Emperor made his way to the fronts, his 60 foot form intentionally and deliberately shook the ground. His combat suit was active with several milimeters of composite and reactive armor as well as two Centuriuon CWIS mounts bracketed to rings on his horns. He was effectively walking warship. As missiles streaked across the front line, intercepted by his worn defenses, his maw opened and a column of lightning opened through the enemy ground troops as the attack on Ollyland began in earnest with a focus.. on driving into the nearest city and its financial institutions and bringing its treasuries and reserves to the ground, and into his own forces possession. 

"Once you loot.. Raze.. we want them inoperable for the next wave." His command boomed across the battlefield like thunder. Small arms fire hit him from all direction. Periodically a bullet would find a weak point in the joints and penetrate to a gush of his own viscera, but he just kept moving.. he wanted his people to feel safe again and the sure way to do that was to put the enemy down and get them to the table.

Edited by Maelstrom Vortex

 

V̢ͭ̔ͣͯͫ͐ͥ̄͗ͬ̄ͭ͏̹͖̺̲͕̦͉̣̙́i̡͕͙̺̗̻̹̘͇̋̽̆ͮ̈́́ͭ͢͢͞n̢̛̫̘͎̝̪̪͔̙̗̘͚͇͚̣̦ͫ̊ͩ͊͌͘͜͝i̡̱̭͉͔̘̖̠̲̺̍͐ͯ̌̈̾̾́̔͑̋ͬͯ̑̚͠ ̸̷̨̜̦͓͖͖̹̫̹̖̮͙̻̻̹̺̞͍̙ͥ̏̃ͨ̓͑̏͊̀ͯ̉ͯ̒͒͗̄̚V̢̢̡̙̻̳̘͖̖̟͚̣̬̏͐ͮ͒̎̈̽̽̾̂̔̅ͩͪͦ̑̿̏̍ͅͅi̶͍̮͈͇̰̫̯͉̜͒́̉̊̓̚͘̕ḑ̸͈̟̫̹̟͓̹̠͇̗͖̤̥̰̲̬ͮ̉ͫi̴͔̪͍͇͌̋̆̃͆̈̔ͧ͆̎̋ͥͫͫ́͢͠ ͕̞̠̯͍̫͚̪̺͓̣̦̖ͧ̓ͬ̎̀͝ͅV̴̨̤̙͔̥͍̟̦̥̺̟̯͔̤̫ͬͮ͑͌i̞͎̹͇̻͎̘̳̮̤͙̯̩ͪ̂͌̐ͪ͐̓̃ͧ̈̓͛̎̄̈͞͡ͅd̸̵̬̫͔͙̀̓͐̈́͜͡e͍̝̗̱̝͈̣̤̜̳͑̓͂̈ͯͤ̕͡v̸̖̰̟͈̠̰̣̮̦ͭ̆̑ͮͮ̾͊ͤ̒̊̊ͯ̈́ͬ͌ͭ̚͜ȏ̧͊̿͑ͯ̚͏̲̣̩̼͙ṙ̴̴̠̗̼̥͈̣̌͋̃̔̎̿ͨͥ͗̈̋̋̆̐̀ͩͦ̕͘͜ͅá̵̦͎̣͇̦̙͙͖̟̣̲̳̘̣̣̳̝͊̈́̐̇̑̔̈̉͒̆ͬv̵̨̭̝̯̫̞̜̭̭̘ͦͧͭ͋̂ͣͨͮ̑ͪͤ͌ͣ̒̽̾̾͢͠͡î̛̞̟̤͍̰̂ͪ͛̒̍̅͒̉̅ͥͯ̌̽̈́̾̈͛̏͡ț̷̲̟͎̰̟͇͖͖̻̼̰̞͎̯͚͚ͩͧͨ̆͗̕͢.̵̢̦̭̳̗͖͙̼̜̩̖̹̤͓͔̈́ͫ̂͊ͩͮͤ̕͢͡ͅ ̴̡̰̙̙͕̩͈̩̻͕̰̠͑̅̔ͩ͛ͩ͆̂̀̋ͬ͂̑̔I̶̢͇̖͖̥̠̳̘͚̓͋ͮͮ̊̽ͯ̈̽̒̓ͮ͂ͨ́͠f̶̴̥̗̙̳̫̜̥̗̞̳̍̅̎̍̒̒ͮ̇̈̊̿̚̕ ̸̢͕͇̜̙̩̭̮̱̈̓͆ͨ̄ͥͮ̽ͧ́́͘ͅy̡̱͚̺͈̳̤̺̞͎̻̮̣̤̘͖̥̗̬͒̊̉̅̆ͧ́͛̌̑ͣ̿̾͋̊̀͜͟͡o͚̳̯͙̬̦͉͚͙̦ͣͥ̿̏̌ͩ͗͌̎̆ͫ̌̿ͫͩͥ̕͝ͅu̷̲̘̖̯͈ͪ̔̇ͥͧ̈́̓ͬ̓͑ͨ̋̓̃̅͜͜ͅ ̸̢̖͇̜͖̺̙̲͙̻̫̝̣̗̈ͦ́͞a̶̢̢̰̻̰͍͎͙̺̪̪ͯͯ̄̋ͮ̒͛̅ͬ͆͐ͧ̃ͬͤ͛ͯ͟r̷̟̦͈͈̥̤̖̤͔͎̤͉̜̼͇͇ͭ͂ͩ̔ͥ̀͋ͨ̈́̊͐̈̆͒̓̃̎́̕͘͝e̶̱͓̜͙ͩ͒ͪ̂͛̋͆̈̂̌̌̒̂̐ͪ͗̓͐͠͞ ̴ͦ̉̏̓ͨͬ̐̓͛ͦ̽ͮ̎̎̓͟͏̶͏͖̩͙͕̗̘͉̯̫̹̱̺̻̞͇á̴̧̮̹̜͓͕͒̽̈ͤͪͮ͋̊̑̔ͤ͂̉͑͛̚͜t̛ͪͮ̈́̋̉͏̮̫͓͙̲͔̼ ̴̵͎̫̝̼͈̰͇̑͋ͤͩͮ͘w̵̡̥̫͉̯̯̭̪͈̜͎̤͇̙͎͖̳̝͛̄̔ͯ͐̓̅ͩ͑̃ͤͥ̕͢a̵̡̡ͦͫ͊ͣ̍̓͐͒̈̒ͧ͌̉͛͏͖͕̜͉͉r̵̛̘̞͙͕̉̄̔́̉̓ͯ͌̾̓̄͞͡ ̨͊̇̊͏̛͓͕̘̤͟͞w̢͚͎̥̙̜̠̻̫̹̮̦͛̑͒͋̏͗̊͜͞i̸̶̧͖͈̥͚̭̰̦̞̫̥̬̰̝͍̬̗̦͚̲ͨͨ̉͟t̸̵̵͖̦͉͕̱͇̐͑ͧ̋͆̀̔ͯͨ͌͆̚ḧ̵̛͎̫̬̣̩͇̥̞̭̼̜̩͕̈̐̂̌̍̎ͬͭ͌͠ ̛̘̫͔̹͓̻̗̻̲͉̞̞͚̩̯̮ͪ̔̌̿̍ͦ̀ͥ̍̎̿ͨ̽̀́͢͠m̶̶̡̭͎͎̤̩̹̩̞͇̦̼̳̝̑̅̑͛̽ͭ̅̓̆̍ͫͮ́̄͘ͅeͬ̊ͨ͂̿ͨ̊͝҉̸̺̰̯̤͚̖͜ͅ,̡͎̖͇̙͎̿ͨ̆ͤ̑́͡ ̷̸̫̲͕̻̫̰͇̖̳̗̙ͮ́̓̉ͯͭ̀́͜ͅp̆͐ͥ̐͒ͦ̐͊̂̓̈̊̽ͫ͊̊̇ͨ͠͏̸̼̘̦̺͈̠̰̤͚̝͙̰̺̩̰r̛͙̩̭͚̞͇̩̥̼̦ͯ̇̃̐̂̔ͫͯͫ̏ͭͤ̑̀̽̾͗ͫ̓̀̕͡ͅe̛̳͖͚͇͎͑͑̓̍̓͗͗̓̄ͦ͠͝͡p̸̘̮͉̼̯̲̻͔͕͇͖͖̟̗̭̹̘͚̗ͩ͗͛̉͒ͥ̀̌̆ͩͤ̃ͨ̽̿͒ͨ͠͠a̸̷͒̒̍̀͗͑͜͏̱̘̘̲̮̯̳̘̀r͙̜̝̲̯̝͔̦̺̗͉͚͉͙͍̠̓ͦ͊̿ͬ̈ͪ͂̌̚͟͡͡ͅe̶̪̱̪̟̣͉͉̹͈̫͇̝̪̮̙ͯ͂̈̈̓ͦ̍̂̾̏ͪ̏ͭͧ͛ ̷̧̭̝̺̗̟ͬ̾̏ͫ̕t̷̵̡͓͔̜͙̘͈̲͈̳ͦ̊̇̽̅̄̀ͮ̒ͪ͆̑̓͊́͝ͅǫ̶͈̞͚̹̻̤̲̙͖̪̍̃̐̏ͦͪͦͤͩ̽̿̿ͮͪ̿̀͂̀͡ ̡̤̹̲̜̪̞̽̽̓ͥ̒ͨ͊̐ͫ͗ͫ̐̈́̑ͥ̕͢͡b̴̨̨̛̦͇̪̠̺͔͙̤̜̉͐̓̌̀͟ͅͅë̢̼͔̗̰̦̼̘̯̟̩͚́͗͆͒͋̀͆̑̋ͩ̉̒͊ͬ͊̃ͪ̆͊͟͡ ̵̡̛̳̜̦̱͎̞ͤͣ̏͒ͯ̇̈́͗ͮ̇̎ͬͧc̴͍̞̼̹ͨͭ̇̒͌͗̉ͥͥ͗̓̎̌̅͒ͭ̇̅́o̧̧̤̘͕̬̰̣͔͖̘̥͖̜̐ͥ́ͤ̒̔͘͠ͅņ̶̛͔͎͍͉ͪ̾̃ͦ͛̈́̒̅̒s̶̷̸̙͍̹͎̬̜̦̞̤̥̦̙̞̥͚͈̬̋̃͒ͮ͒ͪ̆ͩͯ̒͋̾̒̾͋̅͌̓͡ǔ̶͚͈̠̭̻̜̉ͪ́̓ͩͤ̅̌̌̈̍ͤ̾̌͛ͥ͗ͦ͟͜͞m̛̯̪̘͍̜͕͕̞̤͖͉͉͔̞͙͈͓̐ͦͯ̽ͬ͒̾ͣ̓̒̔͛ͤ̎̏̈͜͝è̵̱̜̯̙͔̜̝͙̼̬̤̥̒̒ͣ͒̈́͊̀́̕͟ḑ̧̅͂̈͌̔ͧͤ̋ͤ́́̒̂̋͗͆ͮ̚҉̙͚̬̻͎͚̤͞.̴̨̺̜̟̯̹̪͋̋͆ͫͧ̐̔ͩ̉͌̋͋͞

 

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