Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: The Monastery

As written by Rōnin

"Yes," Kelve nodded. Once standing, he bowed to both of them - lower, perhaps, than even they had bowed to him. "I wanted to speak with you. Both of you." His eyes widened. "Did I..." The old man looked over his shoulder at the teapot and three empty glasses resting on a wire table. Kelve scowled. "Blast. I meant to have the tea poured before you arrived. Apologies, brothers."

He beckoned for them to follow and hobbled over to the teapot. "I suppose I was caught up in my gardening. The flowers have had a good season. Like that one." He stopped in front of the table and pointed his cane at a floral blooming in the nearby soil. Its petals waived gently in the autumn breeze, a whirlpool of blacks and reds spinning across the velvet in tantalizing patterns. All surrounding foliage was dead or dying.

"It's called the Mortuem Fluere, the 'death blossom'," he explained, taking the teapot by the handle with his right hand and holding the lid shut with his stump. He began to pour. "It only blooms once a year, during autumn. The flower soaks up the nutrients from its decaying neighbors. Siphons their life force into itself to blossom." He shook his head, setting down the pot and offering the cups of steaming tea, bright and gold as honey. "It's a shame, what must be sacrificed for it to flourish, but it's a beautiful flower, no?"
 
As written by Script

"Beautiful indeed," Peregrine replied with a small smile, taking the cup appreciatively. "And I get the feeling that it's about to serve as a poignant metaphor for the topic you're going to segue into next."

He paused to take a sip before he went on. "That's what I'd do anyway."
 
As written by Rōnin

"Hm?" Kelve gave a strange look at Peregrine, before an amused smile broke his posture. "Ah. That would be poetic, wouldn't it?" The elder chuckled, lifting his cup and taking a satisfied sip. "No, I'm afraid I'm not that clever. I've summoned the both of you to give you an assignment."

He reached into his jacket and removed a small photograph. It was an old mugshot of a young man, dark hair, fair skin. His features were sharp and handsome, his eyes a vacant grey, rimmed with deep shadows. The beginning of a tattoo was visible on his left hand where he held up his number board.

"At the time this-," Kelve winced as he lowered himself in the chair beside the table, "-photograph was taken, I was thirty years old." He nodded. "I had arrested this gentleman - who identified himself as 'Atano' - because I believed he was a suspect for a bomb threat made earlier in the week." The elder stroked his chin. "Two hours after he was detained, the bomb went off - not in a church in Lemeux, as we expected, but in the very precinct in which he was being held. He escaped. Killed three officers and my partner at the time. Took a dozen bullets to the chest."

A short silence. Kelve once again reached into his pocket and removed another photograph, examining it. "That was sixty years ago. Today, we received a tip from a Luskionos residence. They report that an old crypt in the local graveyard had been defiled, a body exhumed and desecrated from its rest. Police acquired footage from the security cameras in the area and found this."

He lay down the second picture, a slightly blurry image of a Luskionos sidewalk at night. A tall man stood at the curb, dressed in black, illuminated by the wane light of a gas lamp. His face was visible - and looked strikingly similar to the earlier photograph. Same jaw structure, skin tone and hair color ... the same misty, vacant grey eyes. The beginning of a tattoo just barely peeked out from the edge of his fingerless gloves.

Robert blinked, looking between the two photographs. "There's no way that this can be the same person..." He sounded unsure of himself. Kelve looked at Peregrine.
 
As written by Script

"Is there not?" Peregrine questioned, "The deathless are not uncommon outside of Lutetia, where necromancy reigns."

The immortal undead, whilst their creation was illegal within Lutetia, were an accepted part of culture elsewhere in Issunar. "It's not so farfetched to imagine that man is one of their number. He's done well if he is, though. What I've read suggests that usually it's relatively easy to determine their nature by their pallor, and in some unfortunate cases, their odor." He grimaced at the thought.

"But that begs the question of why he's turned up now, I suppose. After sixty years of nothing, why is he making a move? Or have we just managed to overlook his other schemes entirely?"
 
As written by Rōnin

"Quite right, Peregrine," Kelve nodded, "but whether this individual is a simple necromancer, a revenant or something more sinister is yet to be seen." He brought his cup to his lips for another sip. "I would advise speaking with the Order of the White." He tapped the photograph. "At the time that I was hunting this man, they were hunting him too. I made the mistake of letting my prejudices get in the way of accepting their help." He drew a breath. The air quivered in his shriveled lungs. "If 'Atano' has indeed returned to Lutetia, they might know something about it."

Robert shifted on his feet. "With all do respect, master, I doubt the animancers, competent as they are, could tell us anything that we couldn't discern for ourselves." He straightened his posture. "We're paladins of the Order, after all. Detection and criminal investigation are just two of the many jigs in our repertoire."
 
As written by Script

"I must admit, I don't know very much about them," Peregrine noted with obvious doubt in his voice, "Beyond the basics we're taught here, of course. It always sounded very unnerving to me. Manipulators of souls. Necromancy is a lot of old bones walking around, but it's not actual dead people. But with animancy it's... actually pulling the departed back from the other side? Or so they claim, at least. I don't like it."

He shook his head. "But I suppose if they were hunting him before, they may have some insights to offer. Duty before distaste, and all that. It can't hurt to ask - anything's better than going in blind. Is there anything else you can tell us about your experiences hunting him, Master?"
 
As written by Rōnin

"He is cunning and deceptive," Kelve continued, "when we brought him in, we didn't expect anything of him. We frisked him - found a pencil, a pack of chewing gum. All signs suggested he was an ordinary human." He brought the cup back up to his lips, his eyes misting into the distance, lost in memory. "While we were distracted by the explosion, he escaped his cell by bending the bars. He forced his way out. The officers he killed with a gun he stole from one of their belts. My partner he killed with his bare hands - risked his life, in fact, to go out of his way and murder him with his fists." Kelve shook his head. "I put round after round into him. He flinched, but did not falter." He looked up at them. "If he should attack you, take no chances. Go for the throat." He released a long, deep breath, brows furrowing above pensive eyes. "There was hate in the way he looked at me after he killed Taratus. Hate and glee. He smiled at me even as my bullets cracked his sternum and ruined his lungs."

The master drew a breath, waiving a hand. His smile returned. "Forgive me, I sour the spirit of the gardens. It is a beautiful day." He looked up at Peregine, eyes twinkling. "You are competing in the Aurellae this month, Peregrine? The fencing tourney? I hope so. Lutetia would be bereft a great show if you decided otherwise."

Robert smiled. "He won't be the only show this season, master. I've been working on my form. I think I can give Perrin a run for his money this year."
 
As written by Script

"But of course, Master Kelve," Peregrine smiled broadly, glad of the change of subject. "I could hardly deny the festival-goers a chance to see me in action now that I've taken the silver."

He winked cheerily, "And it will be my first year in the senior tournament. I think it will be quite the event. I'm certainly looking forward to me skills being properly tested."

His expression turned once again severe. "It would be best if we spoke with the Order of the White as soon as possible, wouldn't it?" Peregrine sighed, "There truly is no rest for the righteous."

A small chuckle betrayed that he was not truly annoyed at being called back to duty again so soon. "Well, this is what I signed up for, I suppose." He turned to look at Robert, "Are you ready to depart? The Academae awaits."
 
As written by Rōnin

"Thank you both," Kelve smiled, "consider me your ally in this case. I very strongly desire to see Atano brought to justice." He sighed. "His arrival in the city couldn't be at a worse time. Between the spike of criminal activity from the packs, the slew of murders on Luskionos and Lemeux ... rumors that vampires have begun to resurface in the city..." The old master shook his head. His good right hand gripped his willow-wood cane with surprising strength. "...suffice to say, I would like to see this issue resolved. Quickly."

Setting his cup on the table, the master rose from his chair looked hard at the two fledgling knights. His eyes glimmered with the youth and strength that had abandoned his body. "May the Wick guide your way, and may Selene guide your hearts." He touched two fingers to his lips and bowed low.

"Godspeed, paladins."
 
Written by Rōnin and Krysis.

Celeste snapped out of her haze of self-doubt when the words 'field assignment' passed the armored paladin's lips. That was something she knew how to deal with. Her dark blue eyes narrowed in thought as she twisted her hair up in a sensible knot at the back of her head, buying a moment to really think about what he said.

"I would like to see your identification, please?" Celeste probably Wouldn't have asked that, except for recalling Rei going off with that Malcolm fellow, and how Jimmy had almost done the same. Not to mention her own encounters with Arien. Distrust for strangers was high in her survival skills set after the rave.

Anyone could put on armor and stroll into the monastery, pretending to be a paladin. If they looked the part and resembled a known paladin at all, she suspected they wouldn't even be challenged. So Celeste wanted proof before she would go anywhere with someone she didn't personally know.

"Hm." The sound that came from the knight's throat almost sounded musing. He looked at her for a few seconds, perhaps seeing whether or not her resolve would falter ... before reaching into a pouch on his belt and retrieving a state-issued ID. The badge identified him as an individual endowed the authority to enforce the law. His name was 'Savien Durandet'. 5'10". 180 lbs. Brown eyes - not that Celeste would be able to see them.

"That's worthless, of course," he said. He reached beneath his breastplate and kevlar, removing a glittering pendant that hung on his neck by a chain. It was a metal caste of the Order's insignia, the Evequec raven. A faint hum resonated off the metal as he snapped it off his chest and offered to to Celeste. Sacred silver.

"Go ahead," he nodded for her to take it. It was the surest way to identify someone as a ranking member of the church. The amulet was bathed in a finely-tuned electromagnetic frequency. Only those attuned to its field could stand to wear it. In the hands of anyone else, it begin to itch incessantly ... before it began to burn.

She merely placed her fingers against the amulet to confirm that it was what it looked like before giving a satisfied nod and letting her hand fall again. "Can't be too careful now. It seems like people are out to get us proselytes."

"Will I be doing all the evidence collecting, or are we trusting the police with some or most of it?" She asked, thinking it a very practical question. After all, if she was supposed to collect all the evidence, she would need to take a vehicle with greater cargo capacity as well as a larger collection kit, with extra supplies.

"You will be supporting me as I make an analysis of the crime scene." He fastened his silver around his neck and tucked it beneath his kevlar. "I will provide the materials for whatever evidence I ask you to collect." His hands returned to his belt. "I will also be assessing your competency in analyzing a crime scene. I will expect you to be able to identify the victims, the likely cause of death and to make reasonable deductions based on the information presented to you."

Celeste gave a cynical smile as she turned to open the doors into the armory, "The first rules of an assignment dictate that I never assume any part of the job will be done for me, and should I always confirm the criteria of success. At least, those are the rules I made up for myself. Since they seem to work better than anyone else's rules, I stick to them."

She'd shove her school bag into a locker for that purpose before headed for the kevlar and such appropriate for a student on assignment. "Mind telling me what details we have as I suit up? When it happened, if there is surveillance footage, why we're handling this case instead of LPD, things like that?"

"Two murders," Savien repeated, "bodies on scene, area is contained. Lumenia Square. That's all I'm giving you before we get there." He stood by a locker, looking straight ahead as she changed. "That's about as much as your standard police dispatch will give you."

She added a greatsword to her gear, just a plain one as she hadn't been satisfied with her last attempt at making her own. A small gun got strapped to her thigh too, after she checked the load and made sure the safety was on. Finally, the keys to one of the smaller destriers got slipped into her pocket, after she checked the various supplies that were supposed to be attached to the vest that fits her smallish frame.

"Have you already been briefed, or will we hear the rest of the details together?" She asked after thinking about it while her hands were busy. After all, that was important, since if he knew more than she did and didn't tell her, the things that she didn't know could very well bite them on the ass.

"I'm very familiar with the details," he replied, "I'm bringing the supplies. You bring everything I told you to bring, and your brain." He turned towards her, making a brief inspection of her gear. "Suited up?" He folded his arms over his chest. "No potions? No sirene?" His tone maintained its usual gruffness, neither accusing nor questioning.

"I tried sirene once. I didn't notice any boost like some people say it gives to awareness. It just made me jittery, unable to focus, and then knocked me out when it was done. A good diet and getting enough sleep at night is all I need." She didn't mention that she was leery of any chemicals in her system at all, after what Pierette had put her through the last time she saw her sister.

"Fair enough," Savien replied, "though the better response would have been that you don't need it. This is an investigation, not a combat op."

"So, primary weapon, armor appropriate for a proselyte, secondary weapon because I like to be prepared, and that jumpsuit in the bag there, just in case there aren't any available at the scene in my size. I've got gloves and a box of hairnets in there too." She indicated a small tote bag next to her book bag in the locker she had picked, and would open it up to double check that she had what she said she did, with a crinkling sound of the plastic that kept stray what-not off her evidence collecting supplies.

"And three minutes left to get to the garage and get the bike I want. I know where it is, so it shouldn't take more than a minute. Anything you wish to add, Paladin Durandet? If my partner withholds information, I can not act on what I do not know." She gave him a curious look, seeming more comfortable with her gear than she had in the school uniform, though the sword at her back just didn't feel quite right.

"Only thing left to say is 'good luck'," he nodded. "I'll meet you at front. It's a ten minute drive to Lumenia."

Without another word, he spun around and exited the armory - his red and black cloak rippling once as he turned.
 
As written by duramon

Rei had taken the time to change back into her actual monastery uniform. Leaving behind her gloves and combat boots and tying her hair back into a rough ponytail. Spikes of hair stood out and she'd styled a fringe after finally giving into the small tuft of hair that refused to tie itself back. She figured she might as well look like it was on purpose, and that if she was in deep it couldn't hurt to follow monastery protocol for once.

Although she already felt naked without her usual accessories, and she'd even forgone the legion of knives she usually kept stocked in her prosthetics. A bag was slung at her side and contained all of the material and plans she'd made and experimented upon that could be easily transported, should the need arise for an inspection or a saving grace.

With a deep breath the Proselyte rapped thrice on the office door of Master Dufort and waited with her arms folded behind her back, swinging on her heels easily as she always did. Were it Romstone the young girl would have knocked out of courtesy and then slid in regardless, the old Cleric was a fatherly figure and never turned her away unless it was for her own good after all.

This time she was forced to wait, and with nary a screw to tighten.
 
As written by Script

"Enter," Master Dufort's call came through the door only a few moments after the knock. When Rei entered, she would find the woman sitting in what was a fairly minimalist office. She didn't spend a lot of time in it, only using it for paperwork she couldn't delegate and for meetings. It was uncluttered and neatly organised, with almost nothing in the way of 'personal' touches in the way of ornaments or belongings. There was only a single photo of a young man - a teenager, with cropped blonde hair and a broad smile. The photo looked to be quite old.

Estelle herself was seated at the desk, her chair turned around to face a pair of other seats on the far side of the small room. "Have a seat, Miss Holstadt," she said, gesturing to the seats.

"No doubt you have an inkling as to why I've called you here. The events of last night. Sir Nuvellon informs me that you accompanied a man named Malcolm home, despite his direct orders to return to the monastery with him. Is this correct?"
 
As written by duramon

Rei quietly slipped in and glanced around the room. Spartan would be how she'd describe it.

She stood stiff with her hands behind her back until she was told to take a seat, and then let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. The Proselyte slipped into one of the seats and crossed one leg over the other, resting her hands on the arms and relaxing her shoulders slightly.

"That is correct Master Dufort, I left with Malcolm to secure the safety of my fellows." She offered, intent on lessening whatever punishment came her way. Although now wasn't the time to speak without permission she suspected.
 
As written by Script

Estelle raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? What reason were you given to suspect that if you had not left with him, the others would have been endangered?"

She steepled her fingers, "Sir Nuvellon reported similarly, that he felt an instinctual peril regarding staying close to the man. But perhaps he was wrong, for here you are, returned safely. Tell me, what transpired between the three of you?"
 
As written by duramon

"I'm sure you are aware, especially if Sir Nuvellon has given you a report. That Malcolm is strong, and short of temper, albeit he keeps face very well. Previously in the night Jimmy attempted to attack him in a drugged state and I fended off the blow lest he rile Malcolm and end up properly wounded."

"In our current states, little own drugged and unaware aside from myself, we would have no chance if he turned out to be a Lycan or worse still a Vampire left from the purges. I know the prospect is beyond incomprehensible." She explained, beginning to relay the events of the night, aware to Dufort it was likely revision of information she already knew. The girl spoke formally and rigidly for once, relaying the information as a soldier might to her commanding officer after an operation, the situation was not all that different after all.

"I was warned by Aurelie that he was a creature of the supernatural, and time and again his charm, strength and the uncanny affect he had on the room supported this hypothesis again and again, he even seemed to know that I'd come with others and that we were church, or so his behaviour and silver tongue suggested as it fielded the topics. This was brought to its peak upon Sir Nuvellon's arrival, he wanted to take me home." She leaned forward and paused to let the flood of information sink in, she was intent on giving her full account despite the details Nuvellon would have included. He wasn't within the party, and he would not have been pleased with himself or her at the conclusion of the events.

"I insisted on going with Malcolm to remove him from the party, and to placate what may have been a supernatural looking for a hunt, the cold unrivalled rage that had roiled forth within the party Nuvellon had not witnessed, it was not the kind of thing to be trifled with even armed. Nuvellon did not receive my persistence well and ordered me to return, and Malcolm very nearly broke and I feared for the unwitting and barely concious fellows I was protecting. Inarin the only stable one was amidst a panic attack." She took a deep breath, and fiddled with a screw that was already beyond tightly placed.

"When Nuvellon arrived and tensions were at their peak I felt the same instinctual fear invade my mind...it was like a sickly worm burrowing into my thoughts...I left with Aurelie, and we went to Malcolm's loft, or what he claimed to be his. Nuvellon could not protect us if my suspicions were proven, and Malcolm would not have accepted a postponement after all the issues he'd been forced throughout the night. He was intrigued by my work within the order, I shared little of the truth in that regard. From that point in the evening my memory is blank up until the moment I passed the threshold of the order's border." At that she reached into her bag and pulled out and gently laid upon the desk of Dufort, the sheet of material she used to perfectly align her knives that night. She gave an unsure and apologetic look to Dufort at so rudely and abruptly invading her table space, but it was important for her proof.

"I am unsure if you are aware, but I have undergone extensive conditioning. I wish I could provide more information, but for fear of what I might have had to do to placate a monster who was out for a night of pleasure, I triggered a protocol which sent myself into a deep room within my psyche using this. I have been told the man who knows the release is dead, although that may be false, we could always experiment if you wish to know more." She ended, reclining back into the chair and leaving the material on Dufort's desk, along the lines of the material where the knives would lay, outlined in black, were small words that flowed throughout sayings and oaths in the Order. "Protocol Black" was sewn into the top of the fabric.

"If you wish I can file a full report in writing co-signed by my fellows, and account for minor wounds I recieved during the blackout period." She offered lastly.

"I left alive and in good health, so I may be wrong on all accounts, but the evidence is there. It may have been a one-night lease to allow himself the crime and the pleasure, such an act would fit the personality he showed in private post-party."
 
As written by Script

Estelle examined the material with a frown. "Protocol Black? What is this?" She shot Rei a look of confusion, "I am not aware of anything by this name, or of any programme of conditioning that would enable such psychologically damaging compartmentalisation. Did this conditioning take place within the Order? Who authorised it? Explain to me in full, everything you know."

Master Dufort did not seem pleased. If what Rei said was true, and she'd undergone 'conditioning' of the sort necessary to be able to shut herself down entirely, it had taken place entirely without her knowledge. It was likely that it had occurred prior to her becoming a Master, and that the programme had since been shut down ... but that she was completely unaware of it having existed? It spoke of a cover-up. Such unethical practice was not the way of the Monastic Order that she knew.

Perhaps the Inquisition had something to do with it. All sorts of rumours of the sorts of experimentation they performed pervaded the church. She didn't believe half of them, but rigorous psychological conditioning of this nature was something she could see the ruthless faction dabbling in behind the scenes.
 
As written by duramon

A brief look of concern crossed Rei's face. It was the first time she'd made use of the trigger in active operation, and now she feared it would interfere with her paladin candidacy. She'd already begun explaining however, so it was her duty to finish.

"Black is the codename given to the triggered persona. When I was barely a child my mother was killed like many adopted of the order, I was told it was a werewolf, my father I had never known. I have two sisters, both older. We were taken in by people claiming to be of the Order, although based on your actions I now question the legitemacy of it. I don't know whom or what sect of the Church they belonged too, we were part of the same group as any other church initiate, the trials took place during 'home' time." She paused and rubbed her face awkwardly.

"We were experimented on and conditioned, my older sisters were placed on trials I know little of. We drifted apart and saw less and less of each other, the man I came to call 'Father' taught me and looked after me. From the moment I could I was subject to physical trials, educated, and treated in what I can now examine as trials for conditioning. I was told over and over again that I would be the "Sword" for a new generation, and you should know I am intent on imposing nothing but the purest form of justice across Lutetia. That one teaching alone is worthy of my attentions." She explained, looking Master Dufort directly in the eyes.

"One day I woke up, and my older sister Mordred had opened the door to my room, I barely knew her then. I was told Father was dead, and we fled what we had begun to call home. My conditioning is very thorough, I have triggers and releases of my own, and those that can only be imposed by others. If the Order wished it you could uncover my triggers Master Dufort, and use me as a sword all of your own." She said impassively, no emotion touching her voice as she let the offer hang.

"I am aware of 3 self-imposable protocols which are similar to those of 'sleeper' agents of other nations as I have learned from my studies. Black sets conditions and triggers the persona until they are met, in this case 'when I cross into Order boundaries'. White selectively removes memories that I can draw upon, such as the face of my eldest sister. Red triggers a combat-ready persona, one that is without mental constraints on physical activities and is blind except for the targets. For example, they may make full use of the bodies muscles much like the raised dead..." She paused and looked down at the ground, twisting the screws on her prosthetic arm so harshly that skin began to tear.

Rei was terrified of Red, she tried to maintain her strength in the face of Dufort, but the clinical approach to her condition couldn't be maintained forever. She was still a young girl, no matter how broken. Her eyes had slowly begun to glaze and look more devoid of her usual professionalism and spriteliness as she'd explained herself to Dufort, explained her body like some kind of object or monster. It would become obvious her method of explanation, and even the offer of a sword, had been drilled into her and was not her choice of words.

She hated it.

"A-...At the cost of extreme and possibly..permanent damage." She bit her lip harshly and her eyes fixated on the joint where her flesh transitioned into the cold life-less metal of her arm. Flexing and wiggling the fingers with a pained expression as she lost herself for a moment in recollection of a darker time in her life.

"I'm lucky to be born with intelligence, the order accepted me and fixed me because of my gifts. After my wounds from the...the.." She concentrated harshly and looked like she was about to say something else, but it couldn't get out. Instead her mouth moved and out came a strained "Were....wolf." against her wishes.

She looked back up to Estelle Dufort and looked upset with herself. "I hope you aren't...displeased...with my condition. I'm..I'm definitely just as capable as any other prospective Paladin." In a slight panic at the possibility of being treated differently, rejected, or worse still experimented on further. She rushed out a large bundle of schematics and trial samples and messily piled them on top of the Protocol Black material in front of Dufort, offering an awkward and nervous smile.

"I've done lots of work to make up for it, I've worked really hard to make up for it, I promise." She finally said.
 
As written by Script

Master Dufort's frown only deepened as Rei explained, but she stayed silent until the girl had finished. "I have no doubts as to your capability, Rei. But this ... experimentation, if what you say is true, was abominable. To conduct such unethical tests on children ..."

She straightened in her seat, shaking her head. "I know not how it has evaded investigation for so long. Are any others in the Order aware of this?"
 
As written by duramon

Rei seemed out of it for a few more moments, nervously awaiting some kind of punishment, anything. It was what she had come to expect after her time with Father. Instead she got pity, and her simple report to Dufort seemed more widely different than she ever could have predicted. It was strange.

Rei continued to look down and gave a simple answer. "No...nobody. Romstone probably helped make the prosthetics, but even then it could have been someone else entirely. Someone might know something, but as far as people I know, they're dead or unaware."
 
As written by Script

"Hm." Dufort drummed her fingers on her leg for a moment, "I will be looking into this. There should be some records of your time before you were a proselyte, and of any contacts you had outside of the monastery. I'll speak to Romstone about your prosthetics, but even if he wasn't involved, I should be able to trace them."

She turned in her chair to face her desk and began to flick through a folder from the shelf. "I'm going to recommend you to one of our therapists. Whilst I've been given no reason to doubt your mental state before now, a professional may be able to shed more light on the ways in which your mind might have suffered for this conditioning. And, with luck, might be able to find a way to restore your lost memories."

After a moment, she turned back to Rei. "To briefly return to the reason you're here... are you aware of any way to regain memories lost to ... 'protocol black'?"
 
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