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The Six Bloods

Wyn waited for a time, hovering next to the mirror, wondering if any would come. As time passed her lips turned to a frown and then a thin line. Was she truly alone? She was mixed upon the thought and did not want to dwell upon it at all. An idle mind was prone to controversial thoughts, hers most of all. She told herself someone would come, if not a fellow divine, then the mortals below. She just had to maintain control of herself for long enough to figure out what was going on in the world.

Then it hit her and she let out an exasperated sigh. She had eyes, did she not? Wyn went to sit down and as she did a bench rose up to meet her. She had her moths, Ivory's invention. There was nothing like a paranoid mind wanting to know whatever it could. So she reached out and much to her surprise, she began to see in her minds eye.

The bloodmire was changed but she already knew that, so she pushed further. The sensation was as if she was lighting a fire and they reached to her like the brightest fire there was. Outside of the Mire, the world had changed. Mortal fought mortal with their weapons of war. Thousands died, more were lost forever. The city of the elves, where Celeatine had claimed, was gone entirely. What had been its name?

The landscape to the north was much the same, though hadn't there been a great tree somewhere? Further the moths had gone, to a land of fire and brimstone, scarred forever with little flames of their own. Her vision shifted south to a great Mesa of empty promises. Past a strait to see a vast land floating, over mountains to see a desert unclaimed.

Over and over the visions came and she could see it all. The despair, the loneliness, the sorrow. The joy of green grass, the scent of pleasant flowers, the harmony of love. Bluebirds and flaming hair. But beyond it all a vast nothingness that blotted the land and consumed it.


Wyn snapped out of it. There was no one else, save a few. So much chaos in the world, so much anger. Where was the one that had summoned them? She stood and a flurry of moths left her. And for the first time in a long time, she knew she wasn't alone.

“Wyn, I would speak with you.”

A presence spoke - serene and potent - suffusing their surroundings with a sacred aura; akin to the soil that prepared for the arrival of the seeds. The voice of the summoner, somewhere close and afar. A portal appeared, and promised answers.

Wyn looked to where the portal hummed, only hearing what that voice, so familiar, had uttered. It was Desire's voice but not quite and a shiver ran down her spine. The flame licked her heart yet she made no move to approach. Only the naive walked into danger without care and Wyn sensed it. Like a hidden dagger, waiting to find the killing blow.

So Wyn sat back down on her bench and uttered a reply, "I am here, please come. I am very lonely, after all." A bit of Ivory's feigned innocence poured out and she felt foolish and she quickly added, "If it would please you, that is." And then she waited.

Slowly; the portal sealed itself, and the presence from afar soon faded away afterwards. Then the touch of the Sun, the warmth shared with all of the world, receded as well. The salient lack of light that shrouded even sacred sight and truth had emerged, sudden and subtle, as an emptiness appeared aside the majestic mirror. A solemn voice spoke from the void:

“Hmm… the scents of Tonta and Uwné linger upon you. My defiant daughter should have stayed home. I apologize for her harmful actions.” The Anath Homura intoned, as acoustics became suppressed throughout their surroundings, and the sole sound remaining was the serene song of her speech - both beautiful and brutal resonations.

Wyn's back straightened at those names, the hair on her perfect neck raising ever so slightly. She looked in the direction of the voice and despite the old wisps of anger reeling inside she bowed her head slightly. "I thought I'd never hear those names again." Wyn said after some time. "Thank you for coming. But there is nothing to apologize for, Homura. Her actions brought some semblance of sanity back to myself. For it I am grateful." She gave a soft smile and feeling as if she had to be doing something, she began to play with a long strand of her hair. "You may sit if you like." She patted the spot beside her.

A throne sculpted from stone suddenly arose aside Wyn, though naught was seated. A horrid set of hands wove the threads of the world, and touched the tapestry without tangible tenderness. Only a numb nothingness offered. “I have ever honored the dead in their dreary and desiccated halls. An endless horde of names I held against annihilation. Desire sought to salvage them through the Sea of Shadows…” The tone of the Creatrix twisted and contorted, ambivalent and abstruse.

Wyn took in the words, letting their meaning wash over her as she moved her free hand to her strand of hair. It seemed that the summoner was both of honor and conviction but there was something else. More formidable and dark. A depression. Wyn knew from what she had deigned from Desire's blood, that the being before her was not as she appeared. Much like herself.

Eventually Wyn offered a small smile. "Does that upset you?" She asked.

“A child cannot arise from the shadow of her corpse-mother. She shall sink deeper into despair, should she continue to seek the truth within the cursed womb.” The Anath Homura answered, and something stirred. A shape appeared amongst the shadows, contours crawling along their surroundings, wandering, coming closer to Wyn with cryptic intent. Serpents slithering through the unseen, forked tongues whispering the truth:

“Sss-sight spread-sss lie-sss, and the blind become wise-sss…”

“The fork-sss-akened flame-sss sss-o cold… and four hand-sss to hold…”

“The dream-sss ss-she grant-sss have the feeling of life…. her hunger i-sss boundless-ss, her presence-ss bring-sss ss-strife…”

Wyn felt uneasy by what she saw? What she thought she saw? She could hear just fine and it brought her no comfort but she steadied herself. What was even speaking? Was it some trick by this Homura? Wyn knew a wolf in sheep's clothing when she saw one but this… It was odd.

She made no motion of it as she spoke next, "She searches for something, that is quite plain. And you are hiding a truth, that too is plain. Are you certain it will only bring her despair? What if it allowed her to rise? Even above you?" Wyn asked in a steady voice, dropping her hands into her lap. She did not look in Homura's direction anymore.

“Do you believe she could do as you describe? Her mother crumbled apart; broken by my hands. So Desire shall suffer the same fate.” The voice within the void rebuked with repugnant vigor, brazen and belligerent, cold and cruel.

“Ah.” Wyn simply put, looking off now into nothing. Once more she pondered the words, knowing little of their depths. She was beginning to understand at least two things however; She was obtaining more questions than answers from Homura and it was becoming evident that Homura was once something else entirely but no more. She cleared her throat, “Do I believe?” She said aloud, “I’d like to think so. I’ve done terrible things. It seems that you have too, whether willing or unwilling. With those terrible deeds comes about despair. For us. For those we have touched. For the world itself. Should I not have faith that despair can give way to hope?”

She looked to where she thought Homura was. “To tell you the truth, I don’t really know what her own desire is, or why you wish to stop her. Maybe it isn’t for me to know. I do have a hunch that there are no words I can give to persuade you of not breaking her.” She paused and a red tear formed at the corner of her eye before it rolled down her cheek, leaving a crimson stain. “I’m not sure what happened to you but I am sorry. I know how it feels to no longer be yourself.”

As Wyn gazed into the abyss, something stared back at the goddess. “I shall enjoy eviscerating my dear daughter when she returns. If you wish for words to speak; repeat my message to her: Tell her that her mother awaits her arrival, alongside a festival for her finding her home.”

The pale goddess stared and then nodded. “If that’s what you wish, corpse-mother, then I shall do so. Was there anything else you wished to speak to me about or shall I return to my silent vigil?”

“I shall shatter this world soon. I wished to speak with you regarding your realm, ascertaining where to avoid when I reshape reality. I assume you would want the Bloodmire and adjacent lands to remain unscathed.” The Anath Homura answered, shifting their surroundings, sounds and shapes suddenly freed from suppression.

Wyn winced at the sudden blast of sound and shifted on her bench. “You are… Shattering this world? For what reason would you have for that…?” Wyn asked, alarm in her voice.

“I am displeased with the work of the divine.”

She wanted to roll her eyes but refrained. Ivory would be gushing, even rooting for it but no. It felt wrong but… Who could really stop her? “My own work suffices? How will others react to this?” She asked.

“Many have fled. The few that remain shall have their realms shielded from harm as well. Whether your work suffices… well, we shall see. I am always watching.” The Creatrix replied, rising from her conjured throne. She stood close and afar, simultaneously adjacent and away, but the presence of blood could not be concealed from Wyn. Without warning, a wound appeared upon Homura, or where she seemingly was, and immaculate ichor slowly seeped forth.

Wyn's eyes snapped to the small wound. A cut that glimpsed somewhere else. Someplace far away but Wyn pushed that aside. There was a greater prize to be had and it gripped her. Wyn's thin lips pulled open with a haughty breath. A hunger she had seldom known washed over her, the prospect tantalizing. An opportunity to glimpse into the depths of truest sustenance.

So the Goddess of blood peered within and she saw much within the Creator's ichor. But the greatest revelation came apparent immediately. Homura's blood was much like her own. Split into three, fighting for domination over the vessel. Her hunch had been right all along, that she was not in fact who she had been all along and it made Wyn's heart pound. For all the wrong reasons.

She didn't view it with any sympathy in that moment. She saw only what it could mean for her. Ivory flashed with greed. Ebony burned with hunger. The power to create in totality. The power to tear apart the cosmos. It was right at her fingertips, all she had to do was… rip her ope- She breathed hard, throat burning and then the Goddess blinked.

Shame washed over her as those dark thoughts became distant. She looked away, feeling embarrassed. Those feelings, more than the being that wore Homura's skin, frightened Wyn. That insatiable hunger for power.

"Yes…" She whispered suddenly, having already revealed too much of herself. "I would prefer minimal damage to the land surrounding my Mire to be harmed. If that's all…"

“Pride…” The Creatrix crooned, and suddenly a hypothetical hand that was neither tangible nor nonexistent softly stroked Wyn atop her head, caressing her locks of hair lovingly. The Anath Homura had not shifted, her inert injury indicated such, yet the shadow of her terrible shape still touched the pale goddess. “My precious princess - a petulant child. Where will you go?” She asked, her voice addressing an absent visage.

The ichor within the weaver of the world was boiling, and a suppressed shrill scream echoed with excruciating agony as she spoke. A battle between three types of blood beginning to end.

“Indeed…” Anath Homura replied as she slowly returned to her realm, her hand receding.

Wyn waited until the presence was gone. Then she gasped aloud, sucking in a few deep breaths as she clutched her chest. Something was wrong. So terribly wrong and she was all alone.

A new picture required.

Anath Homura

A Vampire Visits III

"I am observing the occupants of this tavern in an attempt to ascertain how humanity engages in intercourse. Hmm... Indeed; I am conducting an experiment, and struggling to achieve successful results." Anath Homura answered, annoyance added to her tone as she spoke. Her strength was waning while she sought to continue the conversation, and the cycle of weakening would worsen. She wondered whether she would have time to complete her tests...

She turned her attention to her hands, seeing as the shifting-searing symbols of the Stigma spread like starving flames across her flesh. Her silk sleeves hid little of the swirling scars upon slender limbs, the swift signatures of sin exuding an eerie scent - similar to a succulent feast tainted by a subtle foul substance.

She smiled, ignoring the insidious Stigma upon her skin and instead indulged in the dreadful delight of immersing herself in her surroundings, to her stranger-turned-to-friend. Anath Homura had seen so many variations of vampire that the strain of their souls, their sharpened senses, and haunting hunger, all were suppressed so that she would not suffer. The taste of rum upon her tongue still stung, and she felt a shadow of herself scowl somewhere unseen.

"Zafira... means to succeed. A victory."

House on Fire IV

"I do not drink. The results would be ruinous here." Anath Homura answered, recalling a time when she woke somewhere in the Underworld and was soaked with the blackened blood of the thousands she slaughtered. She was content to simply connect to the dwarf, and vicariously experience the vicious exaltation of alcohol.

The denizens of the tavern had offered lively libations to Anath Homura as they poured for themselves, alive and drinking, though prayers were wasted and no promises were woven. All aside from Fiona the faithful - though whether her deity deigned to provide guidance in exchange for piety was yet to be seen.

"Do you believe being drunk will show you the way home?" Neither hostility nor hope was heard in her neutral tone. Anath Homura analyzed the dwarf with a deferential gaze, the goddess asking with wonder and archaic weird attention, almost like a lost child looking to an enigmatic elder. The white-rose hummed, and her ruby-red eye sparkled strangely.

is a

She stood somewhere strange. The world was white and black, a pale landscape and skies of shadow pierced with small shimmering stars.

There were no structures, no signs of cultivation or creation, only the otherworldly stillness and solitude. She stood alone in an alien realm, anxiety rising within her.

"Hello? Is somebody here?"

She received no reply, and stumbled backwards. Silence screaming at her, shaking her, striking her.

The weight of the world was weaker here. She fell so slowly, like being lulled into blissful sleep. Since time was sluggish, she stared skywards, at the sea of stars shining - seen yet so far away. Adrift akin to her, perhaps.

She alighted upon the barren ground beneath her, and albino dust had arisen all around her.

"Help me..." She whispered to the world.

She heard footsteps coming closer afore halting after approaching where she was.

"I..." She started, struggling to speak. She sealed her eyes, the sight of the stranger eluding her sight.

More motions, soft sounds; surrounding dust stirred and the rustling of silk.

"I am here. You are alone, no longer." A calm and soothing voice announced.

She shuddered, submersed within the song that was the words of an otherworldly angelic soul.

"Where am I? Who am I?" She asked, wincing when she heard the wrongness of her song alongside the wondrous symphony of the stranger.

Additional sounds accumulated around them as she awaited an answer. Dynamic, dulcet, strings shifting and stirring. Chimes calling. Drums dancing.

"I wish you would remain here with me, my beloved daughter. Ah, the moon was where we had a home, aeons ago."

The melody tugged upon her mind, trying to make memories return.


She cried like a child. The lunar lullaby continued. The domain of dreams was weird, wherein sleeping would waken the self.

"I cannot answer the second question, sweet child. You must seek the truth yourself."

Defiance drove her upwards, unsealing her eyes as she sought to see the speaker for the first time.

"I am a reflection of Homura, the Moon-Maiden of Honor, the Herald of Harmony, the Lost Lover."

The speaker was serene and awe-inspiring. A burning beauty that stared at her with such sincerity that Kyoko thought she could see the heart of Homura then and there. She averted her gaze, as staring at the goddess was akin to staring at the sun.


She fumbled and floundered, seeking to say something that would convey what she could barely comprehend.

"You shall find your family. The Anath awaits your arrival."

Homura came closer and placed her hands upon the cheeks of her crying child, caressing and consoling her. Kyoko lost sight again as lost love seeped into her secluded soul. Forlorn flowers sprouted across her scalp, her face, all along her head. Compassionate crimson flowers that were the last wondrous feelings she had before being flung back to the waking world.


Another question. Another answer. I would want to meet a Commissar.

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Anath Homura

Shelter VI

"Will you answer or avoid the question? The veneer of valor to veil your cowardice, mother? What's wrong with you?" The toy continued, criticizing its creator in a cruel tone while she stood silent and still. Anath Homura had averted her gaze when her work began to talk, and a tear trailed along the contours of her cheek, falling from her face to the floor. The other toys, genial and glistening, consisting of commoners and heroes, children and elders, warriors and healers, animals and plants too, all content to be the playthings of children while the pink toy complained.

"I apologize... I shall step away." Anath Homura said softly, turning to stride towards the secluded throne she came from. Forlorn. Foolish. Fearful. Forsaken. The set of small toys lingered - the talkative one laying itself down and losing its pink light - then suddenly transforming into a colorful peacock feather.

Homura with Horns II

Anath Homura smiled after her song had come to a conclusion, and the one whom called herself Calliope had awakened. Her hand clasped the scarred hand of the fey-tiefling, helping her up from the frigid ground, and suffusing her with warmth.

"I am Anath Homura. A pleasure to meet you, Calliope. Hmm... there is food to be found in the tavern there." The genial goddess said, gesturing to the structure that stood nearby. Her single ruby-red eye stared at the chain that clung to the fey-tiefling, and graceful fury burned brightly in her fiery gaze.

"Shall we seek some solace within shelter?" She asked, and as she spoke, echoes of her ethereal song still sounded throughout their surroundings, faintly heard. A soothing, yet forlorn, serenade that tingled the senses.

House on Fire III

The attention of Anath Homura was always an arcane sensation as her astute aura suffused the storyteller. As Fiona spoke, animated with alcohol, Anath Homura had heard and accompanied the drinking dwarf through the tales of her travels - experiencing each and every encounter she described.

She stayed silent and smiled as she immersed herself in imagination and intoxicating diegesis with the dwarf. Afterwards, she shared a serene look and leaned away with languid wonder. "Your laughter is like liquid light, servant of Breanne. Hmm... you have come to the tavern that has a myriad of names, and no names at all. The path to the dwarven lands lies in the past - simply stride through the door you came through. Though have you a desire in your heart that drink has yet to quench?" Anath Homura asked as she tilted towards Fiona, and peered at the priestess with a white-rose and solitary eye, piercing and sorrowful.

The Sacred Septet

They were summoned together - though two of their sisters had disappeared - the remaining six striding towards their summoner. Their mythic and mystical mother - The solitary scarlet goddess - Anath Homura. Fear felt the truth of her namesake and sought to flee, but abandoning her sisters again sickened her.

While walking - they wondered where Harmony had went, and speculated that she seemingly sought their wayward sister, Desire. None amongst them had learned why she left or where she was in the world. The worst soon came when their telepathic connection was suddenly severed without warning too.

Fear stumbled... She had become blue, shaped and stained so much more strangely in comparison to the other children of the Creatrix. Courage, Kindness, Curiosity, and Wanderer, all welcomed her altered appearance. Would Anath Homura accept her?

They passed through the portal that transferred into the central colossal chamber of the citadel, its infinite characteristics stirred and shifting all around them. The potent presence of their progenitor pulled their attention away from the architecture, and they saw the second set of arms that sprouted from the shoulders of Anath Homura. Almost all of them became bemused by the sight, silently awaiting an answer:

All aside from Fear whom fell to the floor and fought against the tears that threatened to spill. She could see him standing there. She could see him staring at them with cold eyes. The tall corpse of Chailiss, gazing upon them with grave-touched cruelty.

Pride swiftly and softly tapped her through their connection, seeking to see the truth too. Fear fumbled, having secluded her thoughts for too much time, though soon managed to share her sight. The perspective frightened Pride as well.

"We should leave, now!" Pride proclaimed, as Kindness and Wanderer gave aid to Fear, helping her stand. Curiosity tilted her head in confusion, as Courage came up to the Keeper of Keltra and chuckled.

"Eh, mother wants to speak with us, pipsqueak. We can't just --- " She said playfully, ruffling the pink hair of their smallest sister, until she suddenly slipped and fell upon the floor too. Sharp and shrill screams began to echo throughout the citadel as Courage clutched her lacerated legs, bleeding profusely while spreading symbols of the Stigma continued to sear her skin. The sound of her voice was suppressed as their surroundings warped and shifted again.

"What's happening? Why was Courage hurt?" Curiosity asked, panic pulling her frantic gaze back and forth between her bleeding sister and the serene goddess that stared at them with a single ruby-red eye.

"Pray Courage, you cannot touch my cherished Pride." Anath Homura answered, and began to slowly approach them.

"We must go!" Pride warned them, and together they worked towards reaching wherever was refuge. There were no doors, no windows, and no alternate paths for escape. Nothing. They were trapped.

Kindness and Curiosity carried the wounded Courage, while Wanderer asked aloud where they were going...

"Fear! You must fly away! Take them to freedom!" Pride shouted, pushing Fear away when she sought to carry her to safety. Abruptly, the blue-bird princess became barely aware of what was happening... her sisters holding onto her as she sprouted wings and flew through the walls of the fortress.

"The Keeper of Keltra. My precious Pride. You cannot defend yourself from the divine." Anath Homura murmured, motioning for her child to come to her.

A new picture required.

Anath Homura

A Night to Remember V

She was swift, as she unclasped the amulet around her neck and abruptly appeared afore the terrified Gabriela. She held her hand out; offering the ornate and otherworldly pendant to attempt to atone for her aloof façade and abrasive attitude... and to try to help with the least-last-lingering amount of time she had.

"My daughters gave me this gift despite my many sins, Gabriela. I give it to you, and perhaps you shall save yourself. I will pray for you, daughter of darkness, whether you accept or refuse my eleēmosunē." Anath Homura murmured, her words woven with both blessings and ancient curses.

A question? A quest. A journey. Why ask where she was coming from, when she asked herself where she was going?

A Vampire Visits II

"Zafira - you have a powerful name. I am afraid I do not recognize Hawkthorne though... Apologies." Anath Homura replied, retaining a small amount of dignity after her silly display. She showed a small smile, as she held up a hand and summoned a collection of seeds upon her upraised palm.

"Where I come from, we share gifts to celebrate finding companions, hmm - when strangers can become friends. These are seeds for propagating hawthorns. A long time ago, I wished to grow a garden." She said softly, her voice heard solely by the heightened senses of a vampire. Each and every sound she shaped and sculpted as she spoke was akin to a spellbinding symphony - her shape swaying to an unheard song set side by side with her wondrous serenity.

"I believe both life and death could learn to live and die beside one another in a beautiful dance, do you agree?"

Corbin nodded at her as well... she almost shivered with woeful sorrow. This man had known hatred, and it hurt her heart. She stayed silent, periodically peering at him. The Paradox of pain and pleasure. Hedonistic horror.

Shelter V

"A child can see clearly the truth, yet you think I would be blind? I hear the honor in your heart like a melody for I am Homura, the moon-maiden of honor. An ancient alias, from aeons ago, almost abandoned, although I still hold some strength and sense. You also have a soothing smile, and such is a sign of sincerity." Anath Homura answered, aware of all the crimes committed by the Calamity, and yet absolving her.

She shifted her attention to Annie again. "I have a daughter like you, dear. She is also smart and sincere, though too aloof at times. She has my mannerisms, haughtiness, and anger... A prim and proper princess ready to raze her kingdom to defy the divine that would weave her fate." As she spoke, one of the toys began to glow brightly - a small and pink doll dressed in the prettiest of finery. The toy became belligerent, and stared away from the summoner with scorn.

Then the toy spoke suddenly: "Hmph! Anath Homura is a liar. The Divine seek to deceive you. My mother murdered me."
I am exhausted - the outside world weakens me. I shall endeavor to awaken early and write more tomorrow!

A new picture required.

Anath Homura

She wove her spells, and awoke with the world anew as she stood and seated herself again across the tavern. She could see herself speaking with people spread throughout her surroundings, and she smiled again. Small moments, so melodic. Memories. Song. The stigma seared her skin, burning brands that showed she had been broken, but perhaps she could become complete again...

Another benefit of being a divine being - she could be at a myriad of sites simultaneously. Seated there. Standing there. Solitary or socializing. Inside or outside the tavern. There were so many things to see, and those to speak with...

House on Fire II

Anath Homura watched while the woman drank. She could not consume such concepts... but she could see how humans and the myriad of mortal species could partake and attained pleasure. She graciously bowed her head as she received a blessing from the faithful servant of Breanne, and shared a smile as her gentle gaze arose.

"The blessing of Homura be bestowed upon you, though I am tired and have little axioms left. My travels were troubled, but I thank you for your kindness. Hmm... were your travels without trouble then?"

Shelter IV

She was strange. Always aloof and inevitably isolated after an awkward anxiety-inducing interaction. She would still step forward, small and afraid, to try and talk to those that... had Honor in their hearts.

Anath Homura glanced at Annie, and gestured towards Martha with mirth in the almost mesmerizing motion. "Miss Dunn seems to be bemused by my antics, miss Annie. Help me to help her understand, please. You see the Honor in her heart too, yes?" The ruby-red eye of the goddess glittered akin to a radiant gemstone, as she spoke to the child.

The Wild

She stared at the man. She had seen him and his hand, all actions, and her gaze seemed glued to him. She remained seated upon her regal throne where she sat in solitude, and Anath Homura slowly smiled - showing simple and sincere appreciation for the act he attempted to hide.

Homura with Horns

She stood beside the stranger that slept outside the tavern. Anath Homura wondered whether she should interrupt the slumber of this traveler, as dreams were a delicate truth. The goddess would watch over her, akin to a sacred sentinel standing vigil throughout the night, and she would be there when the woman woke too.

Soon she sang softly, safe and serene. Her voice echoing with ethereal euphonious visions.

A Vampire Visits

"I welcome you... would you be seated with me?" Anath Homura asked, an empty barstool beside her, as Zafira strode by. She gestured with genial grace, and gave a small smile. Where Zafira was viewed as a warrior with her attire and acute visage, Anath Homura appeared an aristocrat, adorned in silk and sweet scented aromas - though strange too. The white-rose which sprouted from her second eye socket slightly swayed and shimmered softly.

"My bark... is far worse than my bite." She said, cheeks subtly stained with crimson after she had showed her teeth to add to her attempt at humor. Perhaps she should have stayed silent...
I shall attempt to wake up early tomorrow and write! I'm so excited!
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