The world is hard to describe. The most important factor is that it’s empty. There is food. There is light. There is darkness. But, there is always something missing.
She has no name to speak of. It has been this way for her entire long life, which has become more and more clear with every rise of light and fall of darkness that has passed. And, there have been many.
She has only vague memories of her own kind, but she was very small, and they were cruel to her and her father because of her. She doesn’t remember, but she was different. Everyone was always been different. And yet, it was a bad thing for her differences specifically.
She only knows that they were afraid of her when she used the magic they used. They were her own kind, and she looked much like them, other than her color. They made noise at her, but it never amounted to anything. All she ever understood from them was fear.
When they tried to use magic on her, she had to defend herself.
And, when they killed her father, the only one who treated her kindly, she mimicked what she saw.
That’s all she ever did, and it made them terrified.
But, for all their terror, even with numbers against her, she was always the strongest.
And, before she knew it, she was alone.
That is what was missing.
Eventually, she desired something that gripped her soul, but she couldn’t define it, and she had no sense for what it was until much later.
She looks around herself. She’s not sure where she is or how she ended up at this place, but her tree is present, and it is surrounded by her eggs. In fact, they stretch as far as she can see. Yet, as always, they are meaningless to her. They are empty, and if anything, have come to hold only that meaning for her.
For some reason, when the strange being with the deadly weapon appeared, she had hope. He made her feel reassured, though it took him defeating her in battle and sparing her life to make her certain.
After all, he gave her a chance that no one before had.
Yet, for some reason, he is not present. Nor are any of the others she battled. She tries to search, but all she can see are her eggs.
Just as the emptiness is starting to settle back in, however, something feels off. It’s the same feeling that awoke her when the blue dragon appeared before she discovered the grey dragon. Dragons have confronted her before, and she had to defend herself, which led to grievous wounds for her.
Thankfully, one of them used magic that healed his wounds in an instant, and she was able to mimic him. She naturally used a curse to prevent him from using the same kind of spell before ripping one of his wings and part of his throat out, which caused him to finally flee.
Having lost interest, she allowed him to escape and returned to her territory.
Now, someone else has invaded her territory, and she stalks around her tree to find out who it is.
It’s a group of females, and her blood immediately starts to raise in temperature. For some reason, seeing other females, especially dragons, makes her feel something deep in her soul that compels her to drive them away.
Or, to kill them.
They pose some kind of threat to her, even if she is much stronger, and she’s not sure why.
A few of the females present give her pause, though. They were already making noise even before she moved to be visible to them. And, some of the noise seems familiar. Additionally, she has seen them before, when he appeared before her last. And, at a glance, the male is present as well. He’s also carrying something.
A child.
This child looks just like her, down to the eyes, horns, and tail. But, it is a much smaller child.
However, it won’t work on her.
***
Doephluev appears to be Daniel as the five women cautiously walk through the strange terrain. As far as the eye can see, there are dragon-like eggs on the ground. Given how long she has presumably been alive, Yaulwembor could have laid hundreds or thousands of eggs, but her dreamscape seems to contain far more than that.
“Be careful not to break any,” remarks ‘Daniel’. “While she doesn’t seem to care about unfertilized eggs, they were important enough to appear in her dream.”
“Is this really going to work?” asks Aoloan cautiously. “We’re really in danger if she wakes up.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” replies Hekate.
“A-... Aren’t you worried about what happened?”
“Hmm? We know Thymeria was controlling you. If you can think of anything, we’ll gladly listen, but right now, I didn’t want to stress you out over that.”
Treia scoffs as she walks carefully around one of the eggs. “Yeah, instead, we’re going to stress you out with this.”
“Hey, these are two separate things!” retorts the ravenette.
Just before Kera’tai can add anything playful, a chill runs down all of their spines. They look up the slight hill towards the massive tree, which is the only other major feature of Yaulwembor’s dream. There, the titanic archfiend is already peering around the dreamscape behemoth maple. Her eyes burn with an intense violet color accenting the dark blues around cross-like pupils. While Yaulwembor’s body has more of a distinct quadruped body-shape than the rest of the dragons, she is still perfectly capable of functioning in an upright bipedal posture. She moves out around the gigantic tree, and the five women come to a stop.
“Stay calm,” remarks ‘Daniel’ gently. ‘He’ holds up the infant faormyr being created by illusion in hopes of offering a sign that it’s a shared goal.
However, Yaulwembor seems aggravated almost instantly. She raises a foreclaw, and a magic circle appears. Kera’tai, Doephluev, and Aoloan recognize it with ease, and Kera’tai is the quickest to react. She lunges in front of ‘Daniel’ and flings her arms out, crying out, “Wait! Wait! Doe, drop the illusion! Quickly!”
Doephluev hestitates, but Yaulwembor generates a second magic circle in front of the first, which even Treia recognizes as an ‘area-of-effect’ amplifier spell, which will take a normally-single-target spell and make it affect an area, meaning it can affect everyone within that area. AoE spells, as they’re often called, are exponentially less efficient than single-target spells, but the benefits can easily outweigh the cost.
The Archoneldwyn drops her illusion of being Daniel and carrying the infant, and she puts her arms up in the same disarming gesture the mechanic used when he approached Yaulwembor. The other four women do the same, and Kera’tai says as gently as she can, “We mean no harm, Yaulwembor. We’re hoping to talk.”
“Wait, let me try something,” adds Aoloan. She casts a spell, and Yaulwembor shifts her aim towards the succubus, though it won’t make much difference.
Hekate whispers to Kera’tai, “What is that spell?”
Kera’tai replies softly, “It’s a mass dispel. It’s not quite the same as Daniel’s anti-magic or Nemaisol, but if it hits Aoloan, it’ll boot us all out of the dream. If she gets agitated, Yaulwembor might wake up sooner.”
“Ah,...” replies Hekate, nodding in agreement.
Aoloan casts the spell she’s using on the ground, and a small mana wave washes over the group. Yaulwembor growls, but Aoloan says softly, “Please listen to us, we mean you no harm. We’re Daniel’s friends.”
For some reason, when Aoloan says it, it sounds distorted a little, but is easily understood to Hekate.
More importantly, it causes Yaulwembor to recoil a little. She briefly lowers her foreclaw, and a deep, growling voice replies, “Go away.”
In the same way, it sounds distorted to Hekate, in spite of the deep voice speaking it, but she understands the words perfectly.
“Oh thank the goddess…” replies Aoloan as she relaxes.
“Leave or die…” growls the voice angrily.
Hekate steps forward. She says proudly and fearlessly, “I am Hekate, and these ladies are my friends. Please don’t use magic on us. We just want to talk.”
“Talk? What is talk?” asks the voice with irritation. Yaulwembor’s mouth isn’t moving, but she’s the only one who should be speaking. That said, there’s also a looming whisper all around them that Hekate can hear, though it’s subtle even for her powerful ears. Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. They’ll steal him. Kill them. Find him. I must find him. They’re in my way.
“Talking is what we’re doing now,” replies Hekate. “I speak and convey my words to you, and you speak and convey your words to me. That way, we can understand each other.”
“This… Noise. I have… never understood it before. How is this possible?”
“I’ll explain everything, so please relax your magic. We won’t hurt you. In fact, we need your help to find Daniel.”
“What is Daniel?” questions the voice.
Hekate looks at Doephluev and asks, “Just create an image of him, please. Don’t turn into him.”
The archoneldwyn nods, and she casts a spell, which causes Yaulwembor to aim the dispel spell at her, ready to launch it at them. If Kera’tai is right about the second magic circle, it won’t matter who she hits with it, though probably, the one hit the most directly will be the most severely impacted by the spell.
Daniel’s form appears, exactly as Yaulwembor last saw him, and she bears her teeth.
“We need your help to find him,” reiterates Doephluev. “We will share him with you if you help us.”
“She’s right,” adds Kera’tai. “We humbly wish to be your friends and allies.”
“Friends? Allies? These things have no meaning.”
“I told you I would explain, right?” asks Hekate. “I will, but it’ll take time. The easiest way to put it is that we work together with everything. Just like the five of us are working together to talk to you and ask you to help us.”
“I want… Other things.”
“I’ll give you as many things as I can. What do you want?” Hekate is being sincere and honest. It seems to be effective on Yaulwembor, who clearly doesn’t have a strong vocabulary from spending so long feral.
“I… don’t know. When I want, I want.”
The feldrok girl glances at Doephluev, who replies softly, “I think she’s saying she doesn’t have the words for what she wants, but she’ll know when she sees it.”
Treia declares, “If you continue to help us and be friends with us, like we all are right now, you’ll have anything and everything we can give. It won’t always be everything you lay eyes on, but it will be everything we can reasonably give. We like having strong allies, and you are one of the strongest.”
Yaulwembor is quiet for a long time, though her eyes are noticeably drifting around as she seems to be thinking and studying all five women, as well as the illusion of Daniel, who is standing idle.
“If try to kill, I kill.”
“Daniel showed you mercy, so we ask for your mercy in turn,” replies Doephluev. “We also allowed you to live, so as long as you allow us to live, we’ll be happy. May we approach?”
Yaulwembor thinks for a moment, and she finally nods. The spell dissipates from her foreclaw, and she lowers to all fours. She then lowers to her relaxed lion pose, with her foreclaws folded in front of her. The eggs start dissolving into thin air, and the women flinch as if they did something wrong.
Hekate is the first to move, taking a breath and approaching Yaulwembor, and Doephluev follows, with the other three hesitating only a little longer before joining them.
Once they’re much closer to the faormyr, Yaulwembor watches them. She’s still humongous compared to them, but she is finally much less threatening. The whispers have died down for now, which is a little reassuring. But, she’s still one of the most powerful beings the Fievegal has encountered, so they need to be on guard. Aoloan said that dying in the dream won’t kill them, but it may disorient them long enough for Yaulwembor to launch a devastating attack, since they had to enter the same room as her.
Hekate repeats, “As I said, my name is Hekate, so when you want to talk to me, you may call me Hekate. This is Doephluev, that’s Aoloan, the lady over there is Treia, and the one next to her is Kera’tai. We’re all very happy to meet you under much more friendly circumstances than before.”
“There will be no call. The spells… I am asleep. Otherwise, noise would be noise.”
“I don’t quite understand. You seem rather good at talking to us. We thought you couldn’t understand us when we first met.”
“There was always noise. Only noise. They all died because of fear, but all they ever made was noise.”
“If you never learned, we can teach you how to speak,” replies Doephluev. “We’ll just use the same spell Aoloan used, and you can…”
“Th-That wasn’t a language spell,” corrects Aoloan. “It was a spell specifically for dreams to link our thoughts and voices. She’s producing coherent thoughts, so she is sentient, as I hoped, but… I find it difficult to believe she never had the opportunity to learn to speak.”
Yaulwembor listens as she looks at each speaker in turn, seemingly content with hearing words and not being attacked. Though, in fairness, she’s the one that launched the initial attack.
“Why did you attack us?” asks Treia out of the blue, as if reading Hekate’s thought. The gatonine clarifies, “I mean when we first met. You ambushed us, and I was just curious if we were in your territory, or… if you had another motive.”
“There is… an urge. Like hunger that isn’t hunger,” replies the ancient archfiend. “It comes before the eggs are laid. It subsides only for a time. I want… him. The male. I need it for the urge.”
Hekate sighs. Great. Another one wants to be Daniel’s mistress.
Unfortunately, this thought is said out loud, even without her speaking, and her cheeks turn rosy. She reflects on Aoloan’s words as she realizes her thought was audible. ‘It was a spell specifically for dreams to link our thoughts and voices.’
Hekate clears her thought, and Yaulwembor looks at her, clearly recognizing her voice with ease. “Apologies. But, in my perfect world, Daniel would be mine and only mine. But, I will keep my promise.”
“The male… Daniel… spared my life. I desire his help… with making the world less… empty.” She then looks at Treia and answers. “I attacked to test. Only one who spares my life can be trusted. All others tried to kill. They did kill him. And when they tried to kill me, I only copied what I saw.”
“Who did they kill?” asks Aoloan sympathetically. “Was it your first lo-er, mate?”
“Mate? No. Father. Father protected me, even when all of it was only noise. Even father’s was noise, but his noise was kind. Like the ma-, like Daniel’s. In order to protect Daniel and I, and any others trusted, those who try to kill must be killed.”
“Grim, but… surprisingly straightforward,” replies Treia.
“You can’t kill at random anymore,” replies Hekate. “Instead, we capture and extract information out of them. That way, we can find their allies who try to kill us to. But, you have to respect the people weaker than you. They aren’t a threat to us normally, so we’ll leave them alone. Agreed?”
Yaulwembor nods. “If Daniel helps, I will no longer have the urge. I prefer quiet, not attacks. Not noise. If eggs hatched, I think I would be… happy.”
The five women feel relief at these words. Yaulwembor is possibly one of the most dangerously awkward individuals they’ve met yet. And Geirahoel already set a fairly high bar.
“So, you promise not to try to hurt us anymore, right?”
“Yes. Though, if it is noisy, I won’t understand.”
“We’ll work on that,” replies Hekate. “For now, let’s all wake up and go find Daniel.”
“Yes,” replies the faormyr definitively.
Hekate gives a bright smile, but she knows they aren’t in the clear yet.
The true most dangerous part is what comes next.
***
Klur opens his eyes when he was convinced he would never open them again. Everything went wrong on the last mission, and to die would have been better than living with shame. There’s no telling how much damage was done.
Of course, if he were an especially superstitious goblin, he would believe that he’s simply waking up in Alkus Gristak, having passed on from life into the unending torment of death. Specifically, death for being a fool.
Instead, he is in a bed with sheets and a comforter, as well as a nice pillow. He is able to sit up, and his body feels a lot better than he would expect.
Around him are dozens of people in various states of health. It’s a triage wing of a medical center that was built in the Citadel town. It’s one of the few buildings with its own entrances on both sides of the barrier, though there is a secure door separating both sides of the facility.
A handful of nurses, including a couple of humans from the east, are in the area, either tending to patients or filling out paperwork at their workstations. The medical center is as experimental as it is guided, since Daniel could only quickly describe the field of practice, but otherwise has to rely on the denizens of Zenkon to figure out how to actually implement it.
Regardless, the Field Marshal is alive, and when he checks, his severed arm has yet to be restored. Goblins are highly susceptible to potations in their regular form, unable to tolerate the strong alcohol with their small bodies. That said, potions aren’t common in the west yet, and the number of magic healers in the Fievegal is mainly concentrated at the top simply by coincidence, rather than greed. And, to be powerful enough to regenerate limbs is particularly rare.
One of the nurses notices Klur, and the dattakorien jogs over. “Oh, Field Marshal Klur, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Alive…” replies the goblin. He’s content with that fact alone, but he dreads the news of the outcome of his battle.
“That’s good. We were able to stabilize your condition, but the injuries you sustained were rather severe. As for your arm… I’m sorry. We don’t have anyone employed by the medical center who can heal such a wound without causing disfigurement. The bone was not cut cleanly, and the flesh has already scarred quite a bit.”
“Kl-, I understand. What of the Emperor?”
“The Emperor?”
“Mission was failure. Was it worth saving me?”
The dattakorien gives a sympathetic smile. “I see. I haven’t heard from the Imperial Family directly yet, but I heard from Bellphine when she was visiting on his behalf that the Emperor himself went out on a mission with Sir Magnir and three of the Empresses to slay Kernuules in revenge. I can’t speak to military matters, but I don’t think anyone is going to be punished. That said… It is weird that I haven’t heard much else.”
“I… see…” replies Klur. At face value, it sounds good, but once again, he was unable to finish his mission, even if it’s due to Kernuules once more, and this time, the Emperor of the Fievegal had to step in with his power.
Perhaps that’s how it had to be. We were completely outclassed.
“What about the rest of Grendel Six? Do you know what happened to them?”
The young woman softens her expression. “I… don’t know if it’s my place, but… There was one confirmed death and three members are still unconscious.”
“Who… Who are they? Please… I need to know.”
“The one who couldn’t be saved… is Corporal Bantar, I believe. Corpsman Floria, Corporal Aktra, and Private Vantku were severely wounded and remain unconscious.”
Klur nods, clenching his fist. Bantar, specifically, is the most difficult name for him to hear, but also the least surprising.
Floria was captured by Kernuules as well…
“What of Floria? Is she showing signs of corruption?”
“We… are struggling to use magic of any kind on her, like something is interfering. However, she is stable, thankfully, in spite of the injuries she arrived with.”
Klur springs up to his feet. “Are you SURE she’s alive!? Koggus-, er, Kernuules corrupt! Bantar, he…”
The dattakorien, who still stands as tall as Klur even with him standing on the bed, puts her hands on his shoulders. “Please relax, Field Marshal. Corpsman Floria has otherwise normal vital signs.”
“She was impaled! That should be impossible!”
The dattakorien’s face drains, and she asks, “I-Impaled?”
“Yes! Show me where!” Klur jumps from the bed, stumbling on weak legs that are still weak from all of the exertion.
The nurse tries to urge him to go back to his bed, but Klur searches the various hospital beds for the goblin he needs to see for himself. If Floria appears healthy, then something is very wrong. They didn’t have time to do anything for her, and she was almost certainly dead when Klur himself put her into the void bag.
He finds the female goblin being checked on by one of the human nurses. Klur doesn’t hesitate. He needs to know.
The goblin commander yanks the blanket off and jumps onto the bed.
“Field Marshal!” exclaim both of the nurses. They try to hold him back, but he already has a grip on Floria’s hospital gown, ripping it off deftly with his only arm.
Klur studies the combat medic’s body as much as he can while the dattakorien and human nurses drag him off of the bed.
Using surprise and his agility, which is getting warmed up now that his adrenaline is flowing, the goblin commander flexes quickly, twisting free of the grip. He rolls between the human nurse’s legs, and she stumbles from his body weight bumping her leg. Regardless, he dashes back to Floria to check on her more carefully. He snatches the pencil and holds it to Floria’s neck, which halts all of the nurses trying to surround him.
“Let me look, or I kill her.”
“F-Field Marshal!?”
“What’s going on here!?” calls out a new female voice. It’s the golem Xyreko, who can appear and disappear rather suddenly anywhere in the Citadel’s barrier perimeter. She doesn’t run, but she is headed straight towards the commotion.
“He’s gone mad!” exclaims the dattakorien nurse. “We tried to stop him, but…”
“Field Marshal? Anything to say for yourself?” asks the golem Prime Minister of the Fievegal.
“Floria should be dead,” retorts Klur quickly. “I saw it. She was impaled and being corrupted by Kernuules. Must verify corruption is removed.”
“Understood.” The golem approaches calmly, walking to the far side of the bed from the goblin, who watches her and the other nurses suspiciously.
Regardless, the golem casts a spell on Floria, but she recoils just as quickly. “I see… This is interesting.”
“What is it, Prime Minister?” asks Klur. “Is Floria… gone?”
“I don’t know for sure.” With that, Xyreko waves her hand, and a hole seemingly opens in reality itself, dropping the goblin medic into an abyss. “That said, this ties to something else we’re working on, so I will take responsibility for Floria until she awakens. Was anyone else directly wounded by Kernuules in this manner?”
Klur is dumbfounded, but he looks up at the golem. “I… No. At least, the only other one I saw being corrupted was Bantar, and… I executed him.”
Xyreko doesn’t condemn him, though the nurses are surprised to hear this. The golem Prime Minister’s tone remains the same when she replies, “Corporal Bantar’s body was recovered, so I’ll check over him to help isolate what’s wrong with Floria. For now, Field Marshal Klur, please rest for another couple of days.”
“If you know what’s going on, please tell me,” insists the goblin.
“For now, it’s need-to-know information, I’m sorry. I will do everything I can for Floria, though. And, I already have Grendel Six’s next mission.”
“M-Mission!?” asks the surprised commander of Grendel Six.
“Yes. The Imperial Family is not planning on reprimanding Grendel Six for how the Kernuules mission turned out. We all underestimated the creature, and Grendel Six was sent in wildly underprepared. The next mission will be more covert, so it’ll suit the intent of your unit.”
Klur is stunned. He was certain the failure with Kernuules would destroy any prospects of Grendel Six remaining the elite unit that Daniel hoped they would be. Goblins are the most numerous race in the Fievegal so far, though dattakoriens and oni are very close. Regardless, the goblins can field many soldiers very quickly, and they learn combat rather quickly. Violence is in their blood, and directing it at meaningful missions gives them many rewards.
“I am ready to deploy,” declares Klur, in spite of his arm. Xyreko looks directly at the spot where his limb prematurely ends, but she says nothing.
“There are scouts working to catch up to the target, so you’ll be deploying tomorrow at the earliest. Vaergraes is our strongest healer, but she has depleted her mana working to reverse the damage to herself and Aoloan.” The golem cups her chin with her fingers, thinking.
A sigh comes out of the seemingly machine-like being. “There is one option, but…”
“If you are referring to Klur’s arm, I am ready,” declares the Grendel Six leader.
Xyreko looks at him, and she replies quietly, “There is magic within the archives that can… fuse a magical device arm similar to a golem arm to a living body. However, it is closer to a curse, since it can’t be undone. If the arm is severed, restorative magic will no longer be usable. It can only be replaced with a new golem arm.”
“I accept,” replies Klur without hesitation.
“I haven’t even told you anything about it or the mission yet. I only informed you so that you could be the one to relay the orders to your men.”
“I will be deploying,” replies Klur. “I must wash away my failures with the blood of the Fievegal’s enemies. The honor of Grendel Six is on the line, and my own honor as Grendel Six Leader is already tarnished. I have much to atone for. Make me deployable, or I shall protest the orders to the Emperor himself.” Klur is bluffing. He’s terrified of disappointing the Emperor, who granted Grendel Six the chance to restore the honor and dignity of the goblins.
Xyreko sighs once again. “Very well. If you are so certain… Follow me.”
Klur doesn’t hesitate. He has enough strength to move, and he was able to make haste.
The nurses watch quietly, glancing at each other, unsure about what’s happening. Xyreko adds over her shoulder, “Please do continue to take care of the others. I’ll report Floria’s transfer myself. Please discharge Klur to my care at the earliest opportunity.”
“Y-yes, my Lady!” replies the dattakorien, the fastest to accept that they were given instructions by one of the highest ranking officials in the Fievegal.
As they walk, though, Klur asks, “Why did we not transport as you did Floria?”
“The risk with Floria was too high. Otherwise, we’re conserving mana right now. That’s all I’ll say for now. Please understand.”
“Yes,” replies Klur simply. Ultimately, he is a soldier. He doesn’t need to know everything the Fievegal’s higher ups are doing. He is a high-ranking officer himself, but he’s still not part of the inner circle the way Queen Shek and Skloe, or even the High Goblin Ahok are.
After a while of walking, Xyreko leads Klur into a room that has high ceilings and a very different aesthetic compared to the spaces Klur has seen. She explains quietly, “Daniel will be upset at me for doing this, most likely, but… I understand the conviction to keep going well beyond our limits.” Xyreko gestures at a strange looking stone altar with a magic circle extending around it on the floor. She adds quietly to her first thought, “Daniel is my master, but those who protect my master have authorized me to act as I need to.” She looks at Klur and her tone turns very serious. “Field Marshal, this process will be very painful. But, it will grant you something in return.” She holds her own arm, and symbols begin to glow as mana coalesces above her palm. “I was a dattakorien in life. Our natural mana is typically less than a human or our gatonine cousins.” She creates a concentrated focus of the mana, and from it grows a rather elaborate dagger made of ice.
Klur stares up at the expressionless golem. He’s not quite sure what she’s saying, and she seems to sense this. Xyreko adds for clarification, “It’ll take time, but with training, you’ll be able to use offensive magic.”
The goblin field marshal’s eyes wide in shock. He definitely understood that.
But, he can’t believe it.
Goblins are weak. They are born weak, but in large numbers, so they manage to fill an important role under whatever being is in power over them. They are strength in numbers.
While there are goblins born with innate magical power, especially when they inherit enough of one of their parents’ traits to be considered half-goblins, it’s rare for them to even compare to imps, the next weakest race. Ahok is one such goblin, which is one of the reasons she’s viewed as a ‘high goblin’ by the rest.
“Is Kl-… Am… I worthy of this?” asks the dumbfounded goblin.
“Under one condition,” replies Xyreko seriously. “You will serve the Emperor, but you will answer to me. If I give you orders that make you question my loyalty to Daniel, you may speak, but I expect you to obey me. I need agents capable of disobeying the Master of the Fievegal, which is none of the golems. If I order you to endanger yourself and your men to keep Daniel safe, even if he will disapprove, you will obey. In turn, I will ensure to protect you from Daniel’s wrath.”
Klur laughs. “If I can serve and restore honor of Grey Mantle, my life is hardly worth that much. If that is all you ask, I will gladly pay.”
Xyreko dips her expressionless head in an approving nod. “Very well then. Brace yourself for the greatest pain you have ever felt.”
***