Chapter 69: Demise 2
Heaven and the World meeting within her.
And between them and among them, none are more Honored.
A sensation not unlike walking through a dream.
Despite the absence of her magic, the agony wrecking her body, and the lifeblood slowly dripping away, her heart is still beating. She still continues to draw breath.
That is all that matters.
Her soul is blazing. Brighter than ever. A bonfire bright enough to put even those paltry stars to shame.
The past is gone, and she has no future. Truly, nothing exists except this one moment in time. Death rests at the tips of her fingers. It roars in her veins, her bones shaking in violent fury, her heart pounding with fear.
The Heavens call, yet the World still beats under her feet.
She is not dead. No, she is not dead. She is more alive than ever.
Despite everything…
By typical moral standards, I've never been a good person. I've always considered myself more important than others. The one thing that mattered to me more than anything was making sure I made it. Nothing will change that I am, at my core, a deeply selfish individual.
Blood splatters on the pavement, a deep, painful color stark and leeching into the cracked earth. Tanya reaches up with a shaky hand, dragging her palm roughly across her mouth and upper lip. Her knuckles are stained crimson. She coughs, and it bubbles up in the bottom of her throat. She needs to empty her lung.
...not that it matters, but I'd be a terrible example of a human being. Call me a monster; you wouldn't be wrong. Even so, I'm still better than this person right in front of me. I swear it.
"What are you doing?" Drake stares, raising an eyebrow. Despite himself, he isn't upset to see her standing. He'd thought such an end for her was rather anticlimactic.
One of Astel's ribbons flutters nervously along his shoulder.
"You should have contented yourself with the end by now." He mocks.
And she looks at him then, and it's like his exterior is being stripped down to his soul.
Through scorched and blood-soaked bangs, her eyes are a toxic, murderous teal.
And she's smiling.
"I never met this selfish person. I only know you."
And that's the crux of it, yeah? The salaryman, Tanya von Degurechaff, they would abandon everything if it led to their own survival. That was their fundamental character flaw. To let go of anything that wasn't themselves.
Drake's frown deepens. "Even in death you stand before me."
Not death, but rebirth. What isn't there to find joyous in this situation?
"I'm not dead." She responds, metal in the back of her throat.
Through the gash in her button up, threads of teal knit bloody flesh back together.
Even as Drake watches, as those initial threads fray and disintegrate, new ones form, keeping her body from falling apart. Magicules slough off her in waves, seeping from across her torso like motes of dust. From the side of her chest, from her face, scattered teal particles fill the air and disappear in a wink.
It should be impossible. Several things, in truth, but most notable is the presence of magicules under a Prison Field. A Prison Field does not suppress magicules so much as it deletes them. Like sound waves canceling other sound waves, he imagines.
Then, for such a visual effect to occur…
Is she exceeding the Prison Field's rate of deletion? Continuously, just to keep her wounds closed, and even as the open air fights against her. He narrows his eyes. How? The sheer cost… how much more could she possibly have? Her natural reserves must be running dry by now. But… no. No, it should be impossible. Without a ritual or Spirit-
Drake's eyes widen, a certain scene replaying in his mind.
With Crow. She didn't destroy it. She disassembled it. She knows what Spirit Magic tastes like. Is she capable of replication? At this stage?
A harsh sound, and he blinks extra hard, as if to clear his vision. But the sight remains the same.
"You're… laughing?"
"Hah…" Tanya coughs, chuckling and wincing in the same second. "…it's all I can do. If was in your position, I would have gone all out from the start. But here-" A shudder cuts her off, and a harsh wince of pain and crimson follows. "-here we are still."
"Here we are." He echoes, suddenly cold. "Neither of us died when we ought, and now I look at my future in you and feel only disgust and sorrow. Neither of us can ever claim righteousness. That is the truth. But I will move on. I will survive, and you-"
"If you really wanted to survive, you should have hidden away somewhere very dark and very, very far away."
She cuts him off, uncaring of the furious flare to his aura it causes. She coughs, eddies and dust particles of magic swirling around her and dissipating in the same instant.
"Instead, you came here. So, I wonder…" Tanya's hand trembles as she brings it up, before clenching into a loose fist and pressing against her chest. "…do you really understand what it means to give everything?"
"No!" Drake rushes her before the statement ends, having no intention of allowing Deus Ex Machina here, at the end.
Faster than one ordinarily could see, one golden thrust, piercing the heart-
CLANG!!!
But not fast enough. Not as fast as before.
His spear is repelled, and Drake steps back, surprised, avoiding a counter slash.
"What is-?" His eyes widen.
Tanya doesn't follow him, lowering one arm and bringing up the other, violently heaving into the crook of her elbow. Her chest expands and contracts unnaturally, and a near mouthful of blood splatters on the inside of her arm, and missing that, the pavement.
As if clearing her lungs.
But Drake doesn't care about that. Not right now.
That sword!
Tanya's bloodied arm lowers, and belatedly, Drake's notices that the gash across her torso, at a certain point, is wider than before. Before shimmering threads of a familiar flavor pull it closed.
In that brief instant, he tastes a glimpse of it. A trickle of an unfamiliar and familiar power along the edge of his senses.
It isn't magic. Not exactly, and not entirely.
"You… you can't possibly be human." It horrifies him, in the brief instant before he can suppress such cowardly emotion. "You would use even- !!"
His breath catches then, his chest oddly tight, and Drake clears his throat and his thoughts. He shoves his disbelief away as fast as possible. She should be dead. How is she not dead?
This is not humanly possible. It's not-
It doesn't matter. Whether or not this is impossible, it's happening right in front of him. This thought grounds him.
It's a little hard to breathe…
"You'd be surprised-" Another horrific cough. Tanya drags her knuckles roughly across her mouth, ignoring the stain, the glow. "-how often I've heard that."
She doesn't inform him that he's right. Only that others also thought, and think, the same.
Her eyes drift down to his side, and the torn fabric from her earlier slash.
"Are you going to stand there all day?" She asks, after a moment. Standing tall, despite pain, death, devastation.
The confidence far from suits this situation. It makes Drake's hackles rise against his own will.
"Funny. A corpse is cracking jokes." He scowls. Somehow, she just gets right under his skin. There's more than one reason he hadn't finished her off – tried to, at least – from the get-go. Pride, ability, power… anger. The arrogance of revenge. "No matter what miracle you've pulled, no matter what damage you perform on yourself, this is the end. You're running out of time, Tanya."
"Yes, there's no time at all, is there?" The magical threads fray and snap and replace. Tanya winces, yet she's smirking.
It's infuriating.
He claims to be above it. He claims they are the same. And yet, here he is, so easily riled up. So easily thrown off kilter. Perhaps, in Xerxes, he had lost more than just Scylla after all.
How dare you still stand there. How dare you act so arrogant, even after I've killed you. How dare-
"Though, if I know that, and you know that… why am I waiting?"
Drake's jaw tightens, until it's forced open by a vicious scratching in his throat. He coughs, and his chest grows even warmer.
"What are you-?!" He jerks, swapping his spear to his left hand and clutching at his throbbing side with the other. He'd been so distracted, so focused, that only now he notices a growing sense of irregularity within himself.
It didn't heal?
Not fully. The skin is upraised and painful to the touch, and slick with sweat and something else, something thicker. He pulls his hand away, and his fingertips are stained, with the oddly tinted maroon of his unusual blood, along with…
Purple and red stained fingertips. His chest is tight, and hot. He's sweating, with discolored sweat… he'd thought these symptoms to be exaggerated exhaustion, but…
Drake looks up, furious, his spear spinning in a blur and without warning.
CRASH!
Red-tinted gold against abyssal black. There's no possible way she should be able to stand, much less deflect his attack.
And yet, sparks fly.
And yet, Tanya stands there, just out of range once more, a blade held out to the side.
"Now, Drake, there's no time at all." One half of Tanya's face glows, the X-shaped gashes on her cheek magically stitching shut, illuminating her smile.
It only pisses him off more, a wave of that rancid feeling washing over him so strongly that he finds himself light-headed.
Or, it's the-
"Poison." He says, forcing any unwellness, exhaustion, pain to the bottom of his perception. His hand comes away from his side, and he grips his spear in both hands. "That shouldn't be possible either. My body should have-"
A flash of black, faster than he expects.
He deflects with a spinning flourish of his spear, lunging in the gap that forms.
Tanya sidesteps, and it's nowhere near fast enough.
It shouldn't be fast enough, but it's like she knows. It slides past her, carving into nothing, and her unarmed hand comes down, grabbing the shaft and slamming down on it with her other arm, the pommel of that sword coming down with a crack!
Drake snarls, yanking his spear free.
A small crack slides down the shaft's underside, but he doesn't notice. It is the first time today he was able to outmatch her physical strength.
He registers this, in the same instant that fury nearly overwhelms him.
How dare-?! His inner voice is a howl of rage.
She should be dead. From before, yes, but not just from before. Just then, she should have died. He should have teleported, taken advantage, and-
"How are you doing this!?"
It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because just then, he couldn't teleport.
"What did you do!?!"
"I don't expect the poison to kill you." She ignores his spoken question in favor of his unspoken one. In the same breath, she flashes forward, and they exchange a rain of furious blows. Ducking, cutting, sidestepping. "A human would have died by now, but you aren't human anymore. Isn't that right?"
Sparks and steel, the upturned cross-guard of Seizon locks against the shaft of his spear, in the space between his hands.
"I could say the same-" He spits through grit teeth. Using his superior size, he presses down, and the road cracks under her boots. "-of you!"
Tanya disengages, kicking away from him. Her smile is gone, replaced by a blank, steely focus.
Again and again, they clash. Better than before, her range and sturdier weapon provides a distinct advantage. And her skill with this blade, as opposed to the katana from earlier, is vastly improved.
…ah. Drake steps into range with a thrust, then steps again with another. Tanya is already moving as he moves, countering each strike.
CLASH!
I think I get it now.
She is slower than before. He hadn't been wrong.
And yet, his spear cannot pierce her. Why?
It seems like she knows his every move before he makes it, is because she does. Not precognition, but close enough without the actual literal ability.
Yes, that must be…
She'd been watching, memorizing, and analyzing his movements and habits this entire time, hadn't she? Add to this his own exhaustion and the poison coursing through his veins…
It's far from the clash of titans from earlier. Neither of them can muster the same calamitous power that had rocked their section of the city. They are a blur to the eye, but they can be seen.
Black and gold. Teal and grey.
Blood drips from Tanya's nose. Blood stains the corners of Drake's mouth.
Someone is going to die here.
He could run away right now. She wouldn't be able to catch him if he left. They would live to fight another day.
And that's the problem. He needs to kill her. If he runs, then he will never get this opportunity again. Which means his only option is to win.
As long as he can win…
Somehow, she'd reversed an unwinnable situation. The only way to do so was to put her own existence at risk, to give everything. But she'd done it. No matter the aftermath, he has a very real chance of losing.
You were right. We can't be the same. In the end, I abandoned them to save myself. The only thing that mattered to me then was survival. But you… you didn't run or hide, did you? You're fighting for something more than I am, aren't you?
He understands a little more, now.
It's okay, as long as he loses. That's her goal.
He'd thought they were the same, and maybe at some point they were similar enough for such a claim. But right now, she doesn't care about survival. She only cares about eliminating the threat he represents to Tempest. That is what winning means to her right now.
But I don't care what your reasons are.
The threads. The threads!
That's right. He hasn't had time to think, but they're important.
Regardless of the source, most of her current power is being fed into those magical stitches. Even if those wounds heal, they are grievous enough that a full recovery would not take hold mid-battle.
Especially not with such a patch job as that. She can replicate the style and "flavor" of the Spirits all she likes, using herself to fill the gaps, but it will never fully take. She's the wrong kind of hybrid for that.
He should know, as a hybrid of a different kind himself.
That's why she's slower, too. Her physical capabilities are no longer being enhanced to the same level as before. Not even close.
But again, the problem is time, not power. They're running out of time.
She must defeat him before she succumbs to her wounds. Before the rest of her burns out that shell of a corpse pretending to be alive. When that will be, who can say?
At the same time, he must kill her for good this time. He has to wound her in such a way that patching up the damage is impossible to even contemplate, much less perform.
Yet, he can't even touch her. Not like this. Right now, they're at a stalemate. They will both continue to weaken until one of them breaks.
And despite everything, he's not willing to bet his own perseverance nor his luck against hers.
If she can do it-!
Without power, perseverance means nothing. If she is so desperate to win, then he… well, he'll simply take a page out of her book.
Drake retreats, and she advances. Deflecting, dodging at the last possible second.
I've given up far too much just to reach this moment. I…
"I'VE COME TOO FAR, HERO!!" Drake whirls his spear, snarling. "I WILL NOT BE DENIED AT THE END!!!"
His aura explodes.
Everything that's left. Right here, right now. Don't just be a part of the situation; control it. Put her exactly where he needs her to be, and then take a risk.
Black and blue flames wreathe his muscled form.
Tanya's eyes widen. Other than wincing and blankness, it's the first clear expression on her face since her earlier smirk. Rather than advancing now, she falls back.
Drake bolts in her direction, the ground smoldering underneath him. He rockets forward, spear extending, and-
BOOM!!!
The tip of his spear against the flat of her blade. Her offhand braces against the blade's other side, as magisteel grinds against magisteel. The ground craters, a nearby street post collapsing.
He rips himself free, with a horrific noise and a spray of multicolored sparks.
She'd blocked it. Of course she had; she'd known it was coming. But he'd nearly overwhelmed her. He could feel it. She's faltering.
Or is that a trick, too?
He can't second guess himself. She's fading. She has to be.
So is he. That rush had taken so much out of him, but he can't stop now. He needs to win. He needs to kill her-!
He has to do it now.
Tanya advances, stabbing viciously under his guard.
Drake steps into her range.
His body jerks, black magisteel punching through his abdominals.
It takes him less than a second to recognize how stupid this idea is. In the same second, he stops thinking, and acts.
"Astel!"
Weakened the altered Spirit may be, it's enough. It lashes out from Drake's forearm, binding tight to Tanya's wrist and around the un-sharp half of her sword. Then, he thrusts-
"Gah-!" Her off hand grabs his forearm, stopping his spear from plunging further into the left side of her chest.
"Grck-!" Bile burns in the back of his throat, as she forces her own blade deeper into his side. His offhand slams down, stopping it from going any further.
The glow across Tanya's torso slowly dims, revealing partially healed flesh and bloody scarring.
Drake's aura disappears. The wound in his side is leaking dark fluid, jagged veins stretching out into the flesh around it.
All that can be heard is the faint crackle of flames in the distance, and their ragged gasps for air.
"Ah…" The teal threads fray and dissipate into the air. For good, it seems. "So not even… giving up everything… was enough."
"No…" Drake hisses, fire lancing through both sides of his torso. "There was no… other outcome. I told you…"
He shoves, trying to stab further. She does the same, and they are barely able to stop each other. They both hiss, grunt from the pain. But one of them is clearly worse off.
"Ha…" Tanya's head dips, then jerks up. Like she's trying oh so desperately to keep herself awake. "So, you... are going to kill me."
Her hold on his forearm tightens like a lifeline.
"I will. I have." His grip on her wrist tightens as well. "I have avenged… them."
"…no. You are going… to kill me." Her hold on him turns painful. It's impossible to notice from this close up, but through her shadowed expression, her eyes are glowing. "And I… am going to save them."
"You're still-!" Drake flinches harshly, her black blade digging in further.
He tries to pull away, tugging on his spear… but Tanya doesn't let him. Her grip on his forearm bruises the flesh, the bones creaking. Her fingernails dig in, dark blood leaking out, and she's up to something what is she doing how is she still-
Even without the drain of those threads, the short burst of physical strength is all she can manage. Barely a couple of seconds. But Tanya is nothing if not an opportunist.
Her right hand is slick, painted red, and her palm slides against Seizon's grey leather, forcing the blade deeper and deeper into Drake's side. She shoves once, twice, centimeters of blade disappearing into flesh with each jerking motion.
Seizon sinks in, spurts of dark, purple-tinted maroon leaking along the black magisteel and dripping to the ground.
He mimics her, forcing his spear forward, holding tight her dominant wrist. But she is stronger than him again, in this brief moment in time stretching past infinity. Despite his greater size, despite his favorable position.
Goddammit. Goddammit!!!
It's all catching up with him at once.
Even so, he tries to flare his aura once more. One last time.
If he can just-
Schlock!
Drake lets go, stumbling back, and Tanya lets him go, collapsing to one knee.
One hand goes to the sword still in his side. The other shoots up, to his throat.
Through the side of it, sticking out both sides, is an arrow.
It is only luck and his own unique physiology that saves him. If he were a mere human…
Astel!
The ribbon-esque Spirit slithers up his arm, over his shoulder, then disappears into the bleeding sides of his neck. Keeping him from choking on his own blood, sealing the worst of the damage.
He looks around desperately for the source, waiting for another arrow to strike. But it never does. A light in the sky draws his attention next. A flare, just over their position.
"Heh…" A ragged laugh, followed by wet coughing.
His gaze locks on his kneeling foe. Fury and fear intermingle. His question cannot be verbalized, but it's obvious.
How?!
In the back of his mind, he recognizes his options. There aren't any.
But, if he wants to kill himself in the process-
I don't want to die.
At the thought, a faint tinge of… amusement from that thing, stuck within the liquid of his own shadow, trickles across the back of his mind.
No. No, she is dying. His spear is through her chest. Her wounds aren't fully healed. Her spirit is-
"You have no idea… what you've done." Tanya says, glancing up at him with a bloody smirk.
Apparently, it's unbroken. But he didn't mean metaphorically.
Drake glares at her.
"How… so…?" He manages to warble out. The arrow missed his spine, but the blood and torn flesh in his throat column don't make anything easy. Astel patches it up, sure, but it's a temporary measure. That, along with the symptoms of poisoned illness weighing down his senses… this has been far from a glorious triumph.
It is a triumph, nonetheless.
…and yet…
Tanya winces, one arm braced against her knee and the other holding onto the spear in her chest. Still, it feels like he is the loser.
"Her rage…" Two gashes like a jagged X on the left side of her face, and a long cut along the other cheek as well. A scarred line from stomach to shoulder, a star-shaped scar on the right side of her chest, and a spear through the other side. Lichtenberg scars, trembling muscles, one eye squeezed shut and the other half closed and glaring. "I've seen it… before. You were dead… the moment you came here…"
Along her now-oozing wounds, a faint flicker of teal threads through crimson once more.
As before, that familiar bubble of irritation expands in his chest.
Even now? Even in this situation, having lost all hope of victory?
Drake takes a threatening step forward, and nearly keels over. A rush of dizziness overwhelms him, followed by waves of heat from his wounded sides.
Like a mental reset, it brings everything into startling clarity. Like waking up from a dream, Drake finally looks around and pays attention to something other than Tanya.
The barriers?
When had they reached the edge of the city? Had she been leading them here this whole time?
No. No no no.
He'd done everything right! He'd stacked the deck purely in his hand, so how does she still have cards to play?! How can she possibly-!!!
Calm down. He can still salvage this. He doesn't even need to salvage this.
He'd already won. She's literally dying right in front of him. He'd won already.
Footsteps. A flash of pink.
The other one!
Even she could kill him now. Even-
Voices in the distance, slowly getting closer. They're too far away; he just has good hearing. They won't arrive in time to save anyone, but…
But, in his current state…
"Run away… Drake of Scylla!" His hated enemy calls.
Despite everything, the tone is mocking. Pained, wet with blood, but mocking.
Yet, his fear, his desire to survive surpasses his anger. Drake cuts his losses and runs.
Leaving the victor alone to collapse, and die.
-=-=-=-
Or at least, that's what she thought.
How curious, this one.
Let me tell you a story…
Of that soul who travelled far and wide,
after defying the will of a God.
Who grew, yet denied even herself until the end,
And who persisted beyond that end.
Let me tell you…
How she befriended both Slime and once Enemy,
Accepted and withstood pain for others.
And before long…
Fell in love.
Let me tell you of…
That selfish, greedy person,
Who finally chose to care, more than she should,
And who saved everyone she could.
This time, at least.
For there is no Greater Love than this,
And there is no coming back from this.
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Imagine, if you will.
Imagine that the world is fair.
Imagine that a dream, a truly happy one, would not end so cruelly.
Tanya blinks. The world is a muddled, crimson haze. Her eyelids are weighed down by elephants, a fuzzy, steel wool textured heat pressing over her mind.
Madness encroaching from beyond.
She blinks. She is lying on her side in a field. The grass sways, and flowers glow along a supernatural spectrum. A pool surrounds her, half her body submerged, yet she is drier than a bleached skull in the desert.
She blinks. Rough stone and gravel against her fingertips, her side, her legs. Her head rests inclined, on something soft. Or two somethings. Fabric, she can see, creased and in a familiar dark hue.
"Shuna…"
A gasp.
She blinks. A goldish orange tinted storm, a grey beach and ocean. A… presence.
She blinks. Pink fluttering, shimmering in the waning, tinted sunlight.
Even in this situation, she is…
"…beautiful." Tanya murmurs, her voice low and dry.
Drip. Drip.
Something wet touches her face. A shuddering, a trembling above her. Wisps of cotton candy clouds, glittering horns, glimmering eyes…
It hurts.
She lets out a puff of air, and thinks of rain. Of the storm.
…hurts.
Words are being said. They are whispers in her ear, drowned out by the pounding of blood that is slowly softening. Ending.
"T… a…" Muffled, like underwater. Warmth cups her face. "Ta… ya… please…"
That's right. Her name is Tanya. She'd lost everything twice. She'd gained more than she could have ever imagined. She has friends, a solid career, and even-
"Stay awake for me! Look at me, we made it! You need to hold on, help is-"
A full body shudder courses through Tanya then. From her toes to her fingertips, it's freezing, and scalding, and she's-
Shuna's still talking. Rambling.
"-was so worried, I thought I wouldn't make it in time, and- Tanya! Tanya, you need to-"
...trying to keep her awake?
She laughs, a weak, quiet huff of air. But a laugh.
It's impossible to think straight now. She barely remembered her own name. But she knows her. How could she not?
"Shu… na…" Another, singular laugh. It doesn't hurt this time. It doesn't hurt anymore. "I…"
One of Tanya's hands stretches up, then falls. Only for it to be caught by another, warmth encompassing her trembling fingers.
"-please! You need to-!!"
"Shuna." The pounding in her ears, her chest, fades. Just enough to hear, to see her through blurry, swimmy vision. "Shuna. Were we…?"
Shuna's voice hitches. "I…"
"Were we… good?"
A sob. The pain returns.
"The best."
"Ah. That's… good."
How devastating it is. How grateful she is for this moment.
"Why…" Shuna chokes out, tear tracks visible through the haze. "What were you thinking?"
"…I wasn't." Ah. It's the end now. She is so, so tired. She doesn't want to die. She's finally okay with dying, but… she doesn't want to die. She doesn't want to die. "I just…"
The sky above is clouded, darkened by smoke. The stars are hidden behind the Sun's gaze.
"…I…"
Even now, I can't…?
"…wanted to be by your side."
No, I… I have to…
"…I… because, I..." By force. No matter what it means to admit such a thing. "…I love you… you know?"
Shuna sobs. Kisses her. Tears intertwining with blood.
It lingers in the doorway. It's someone to come home too.
Shuna pulls away, her face stained. She says something, to no response other than a fluttering of eyelids… and a small, heartbreaking smile.
"No no- stay awake! Tanya, don't- we made it! We survived, help is coming, so you can't- not now, you can't-!!!"
Her voice breaks. Shuna looks up, and around, frantic.
Shuna holds onto to her, calling out for someone, anyone.
"Please! PLEASE!!!"
There's nothing left for her to give. There is no coming back from this. There is no returning to this same point, or to those precious days. Not while one dies and the other survives. Anything else would require… a miracle.
A true shame, but in the end… they were the best, weren't they?
Tanya's eyes flutter shut.
And finally… finally, she can rest.
-=-
Yes, how devastating. How devastating that we met so late, and that our time together was so short.
But...
I wouldn't trade those precious memories for anything. I am... happy to have met you. To have loved you. More than anything.
More than anything... I would have done anything to make this last forever.
I've accepted it now. I'm okay with it. But…
But even still…
…I…
…I never wanted those precious memories to end.
-=-=-=-=-=-
Known Skills List
Mary:
Common Skill: Thought Communication
Extra Skill: Magic Sense
Extra Skill: Magic Aura
Extra/Intrinsic Skill: Physical Enhancement
Unique Skill: Ability Severance
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< Ah. There you are. >
< It took a long time, but I found you. >
< Did you think it would be that easy? >
< That you could escape? >
< Come now. . . >
< Did you have fun? >
< . . . >
< Did you get it all out of your system? >