Chapter Seven, Baby Let The Games Begin.
"SHALL WE SHOW MERCY?"

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     Octavia Amulius did not feel like her usual self — that much was certain.

     She believed after last night; her heart to heart with Geta, followed by her uneventful night tangled in the sheets and throws of their love, or whatever their idea of love was nowadays, Octavia had believed things would change. The woman thought she would wake up the following morning, a smile on her face, and a brand new spring in her step. She was a bride to be after all. She should feel excitement, or any form of happiness to accompany the glee she felt when Geta made his endless string of promises of love and companionship to her last night. That's how she should've felt — happy and content.

     However, when the woman opened her eyes, happiness was not what she felt.

     Octavia felt dizzy — nauseous even. She felt sick to the bottom of her stomach, like she would throw up the several cups of spiced wine she had consumed the night before. She even felt exhausted. She often considered that feeling to be normal for her, especially after a long night spent with the emperor, knowing how overzealous he could be when it came to handling her. But the second she opened her eyes to a brand new day, Octavia was overcome with a wave of tiredness she had never experienced before. These strange and foreign strings of symptoms left Octavia feeling confused, and worried for her own health. She was once a healer. She knew these feelings were far from ordinary.

     But those worries over her discontent were quickly forced to the back of her mind when she felt a strong arm snake around her waist, followed by a low grumble coming from Geta's lips. Octavia tensed for a moment, her breath quickly hitched in the back of her throat. She was yet to grow accustomed to Geta's comforting touch and warm presence since his promises to her the night before. Octavia had never felt comfort from her husband to-be on this scale before. It was a strange feeling, foreign even. But she could not tell if that had anything to do with Geta's wave of affection towards her, or the varying symptoms that plagued her body like a disease.

Again, she shoved those thoughts and feelings to the back of her mind. She did not want to be the subject of concern on such an eventful day for the emperor. The least she believed she could do, well, it was to pretend, just like she had always been doing from the moment she first stepped foot into the palace a year ago. Maybe this way, she could get through the day without withering further into her sickness. The last thing she wanted was to be the centre of attention.

     From behind her, Octavia felt Geta's hot breath fanning against the back of her neck, sending chills up and down her spine as she shuddered in response. Octavia did not mean to recoil in disgust while the emperor held her close to him, so close that she could feel Geta's heart beating hard against his chest. It was just, despite his promises, and how much Octavia wanted to believe they could reign true, she was still scared of what the future may hold for them. With their wedding day right around the corner, looming over her head every second of every day, Octavia wondered if those promises would last throughout their entire marriage. If they did, then she would remain eternally grateful. If not, well, she didn't want to find out.

That was why she felt a sprinkle of doubt, but nonetheless, the woman still held out hope for the change Geta promised her.

     And it was that same handful of hope that forced her to smile before she slowly wriggled her way out of Geta's grasp around her waist, and sat up straight, throwing her legs over the side of the bed before her feet touch the cold tiled flooring beneath her. Octavia thought, just while Geta was still deep in his slumber, she could venture out into the garden for an hour or so before she had to get ready to travel to the colosseum for the day. If she had it her way, she wouldn't go to watch the games at all. She did not take pleasure in whatever the emperors' had planned for the gladiators today.

     In particular, she worried for Hanno. She did not understand why one barbarian could get under her skin like this, however, he was unlike any gladiator she had encountered before. This one — Hanno — he was different. Despite their minor disagreement yesterday, she hoped he would survive the first round of games today. She cursed herself for feeling empathy for a man she had only met briefly, who insulted her because of her status, and, yet, she could not help herself, but call upon the gods, and ask them to protect the barbarian fighter in the arena today.

"It is early," Octavia jumped in her own skin when she heard the distant echo of the emperor's voice trailing far behind her. She turned around to see Geta now standing in front of her, a robe wrapped around his body.

Octavia placed her hand to her chest, her palm pressing into the soft fabric of her nightgown, letting out a gentle sigh. "You frightened me, Your Majesty," She stated, her smile faltering for a second before it returned to its original state.

Geta let out a chuckle, approaching Octavia. "My apologies, My Love," He replied before he took the hand she held closely to her chest into his own, rubbing his thumb against the roof of her hand. "Come back to bed. We can have some fun here before we have to leave for the arena," He added, tugging her closer towards the bed, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

     The woman swallowed thickly. She had hoped she could enjoy a walk around the garden before their departure from the palace. Her heart yearned for a brief escape from the palace walls, just to be surrounded by flowers and greenery. It was all she desired in that very moment. But then Octavia glanced into Geta's eyes as he continued to guide her towards the bed. Octavia knew if she was to decline his wants and desires now, he may not react too kindly in response. So, she smiled again and reluctantly followed in his direction. When they stopped, without saying a single word, Geta turned Octavia around and leaned into her, pressing a sloppy kiss against her neck.

"What were you thinking about earlier?" Geta asked, mumbling against her skin as he trailed a string of kisses from Octavia's neck, down to her shoulder, where he pulled the strap of her nightgown down. Octavia had to fight the urge to shudder as she felt Geta's rough touch caress her skin.

But it was the question that caught her off guard, forcing her to hum in response. "Oh, nothing," She lied. Geta knew she thought a lot, and she thought about a long list of things, so much so that he could pinpoint when it was happening.

If he knew she was thinking about the gladiator, he would believe it was for adulterous reasons when it wasn't, and have him executed. And due to Geta's possessive nature, he would make the execution hurt. Octavia did not want Hanno's blood on her hands. She could never live with herself if someone died because of her.

     Geta turned Octavia around to face him, his eyes staring into her own. "You're lying," He whispered, and Octavia swallowed roughly again. She had to think of a different excuse and fast.

     "I'm not lying to you," Octavia defended, putting on a brave face while she reached out and caressed the emperor's face, grazing her finger along his cheek to soothe his concerns. "I just don't feel like myself today. I believe it has something to do with all that wine from last night," She elaborated, lying through her teeth in hopes that Geta would not be able to pick up on her dishonesty towards him.

     It seemed to work because it didn't take long for Geta's suspicious expression to quickly contort into a look full of worry. "Are you alright? Should I fetch the physician?" She questioned her.

     "I am fine, Your Majesty," Octavia reassured him, the faint sight of her smile being enough to bring a grin to Geta's face. Truth is, Octavia wasn't sure if her symptoms were worth worrying over, but she would save those concerns for another day. "You do not need to fret."

That was all Geta needed to hear before he gently pushed Octavia onto the bed behind her, before he removed his robe from his naked body, and climbed on top of her, all without warning. Octavia did not know why she acted so surprised. He never gave her warning before, and shouldn't have expected one now. Geta then pressed his lips forcefully against her own, and Octavia — stunned at first — eventually reciprocated the kiss, her lips moving in sync with the emperor's in a sloppy and lifeless manner. Despite her feelings for the emperor, whether it was love, or not, he could never satisfy her in the same way she satisfied him. His meaningless kisses answered that for the woman each and every time.

Then Geta rested himself between Octavia's thighs before he forced himself inside her, nothing more than a quiet gasp left her lips as he began to thrust in and out of her. Nothing could be heard in the room other than the quiet moans trickling past the emperor's lips, and the gentle creaking of the bed beneath them. Octavia could often handle the moments when she engaged in sexual pleasures with her husband to-be, but this time felt different. It felt bleak, messy, and even quite painful. Octavia let out a quiet wince, so quiet that not even the emperor could hear her over the low moans that left his own lips, all while he pinned Octavia's hands by her head, leaving her defenceless underneath him.

And when Octavia Amulius lifted her gaze to glance up at the Birth of Venus painting above her head, she didn't tell herself the same mantra she would usually repeat in her head while Geta laid on top of her. She didn't whisper, it'll all be over soon, and instead she told herself something completely different.

I love Geta, and he loves me. I do not need to feel disgusted with him on top of me.

Octavia repeated this for a while, before it was replaced with another mantra.

He would keep his promises, and he would be a good husband.

And as the emperor reached his end, preparing to release his seed inside of her, her conscience in the back of her skull echoed back to her again.

I will be happy. . . Because this, this is what I want. It is all I have ever wanted.

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The Roman colosseum was as tall, and just as grand, as Octavia Amulius remembered. It had been a while since the colosseum was in use. The woman recalled her last venture to the beautiful building being only a few months ago, but nonetheless, it had been a while. The emperors had grown bored of the violence and bloodshed within the walls of the arena. That was until General Acacius had sent word of his victory in Numidia, thus igniting an insatiable desire to celebrate the victory, and they believed there was no better way to do that than to open up the colosseum once again, and forge more violence, bloodshed, and even more death than ever before.

Octavia did not share the same mindset or ideologies as her husband to-be and his brother, but she was still encouraged to attend the games regardless of her feelings.

But it wasn't as if she was ever given a choice.

Opposite to the beautiful exterior and architecture, when Octavia stepped inside the colosseum, she was forced to reconcile with the heavy and not-so-gentle reminder of why they were there. She heard the chorus of cheers coming from the crowd inside, followed by the rumbling of the ground beneath her. As she stood next to Geta, welcomed by members of the senate, she couldn't help but wince at the sound of the crowd again and again. When she stepped inside, she would be forced to watch as gladiators — men who were ripped away from their families and their homes, forced into a life full of vile misery and violent rage — fight to the death.

The mere thought of all this knowledge she held within her, it made it impossible to even fake her enjoyment, her true feelings breaking through the facade she tried to enforce, piece by piece.

     So, when the senate moved aside to allow Acacius and Lucilla to greet them, she was relieved to be met with a pair of friendly faces that eased her worries, even if it was brief. Octavia allowed a more genuine smile to find its way to her lips as Acacius bowed to her and the emperors. "Your majesty's...My Lady," Acacius spoke more fondly when he turned to Octavia.

     While Geta and Caracalla remained where they stood, Octavia took the opportunity to step forward and hold onto Acacius' hand, bowing her head to him as a form of respect. "We are honoured to have you here with us, General," Octavia replied earnestly.

     "As are we. We are honoured to be here at your side," He informed, addressing his words not only to her, but to the twin emperors standing behind her with cold and unreadable expressions on their faces.

     However, both Octavia and Acacius knew their words were just formalities, and both of them would've preferred to stay home instead of watch the bloodshed unfold in honour of Acacius' victory. Neither of them wanted this, but anything to please the emperors and free them from their wrath, even if it was just for a short time. Octavia then let go of Acacius hand before she turned to Lucilla, watching as her blonde locks cascaded down accompanied by a beautiful veil drifting down her back. Instead of graciously accepting her hand, Octavia embraced the older woman instead, and Lucilla reciprocated Octavia's kind and heartfelt gesture, which displeased Geta in particular, but he chose not to say anything.

He did not like to share his wife to-be with anyone, not even someone with the influence of the former princess of Rome.

"You look radiant, Lucilla," Octavia complimented as she pulled away from the embrace first, taking a small step back. Octavia then adjusted the shaw drifting over her arms, making sure they covered up the fresh bruises left on her wrists, the same ones caused by Geta's hand last night.

Octavia had hoped no one would notice, but unknowingly, Lucilla had noticed. The blonde's breath became hitched in the back of her throat when she peered down to catch a quick glimpse of the fresh bruises, a mix of purple and blue fingerprints left on Octavia's skin, a lingering reminder of the emperor's violence. It made Lucilla's heart ache and weigh heavy in her chest, knowing she was witnessing something completely out of her hands, or at least for now. If everything went according to plan, then Octavia would be free from the emperor. She just had to survive until then. Lucilla really did hope, and she even prayed to the gods that they would guide and protect Octavia until then.

But she had to still keep up appearances, forcing the woman to smile. "As do you, My Lady," Lucilla replied in return.

Suddenly, Geta appeared beside Octavia, his hand pressing into the dip of her back, causing for the woman to tense for a moment. "We should head to our seats, My Love," He told Octavia, but it came out more like a command than a statement, before he smiled back at both Acacius and Lucilla. "We will meet you up there," Geta added before him and Caracalla began to make their way up the steps towards the royal box, where they would be separated from the working class.

     The sound of trumpets echoed loudly through the hot air as Octavia began to trail after the emperors, listening as a voice broke through the sound of the trumpets. "Emperor Caracalla. Emperor Geta!" It was the Master of Ceremonies, his voice expanding across the colosseum as he introduced the twin emperors.

      When Octavia reached the top of the steps, she peered into the royal box to see Geta standing before the Roman people first, raising his hand to greet them. If he had it his way, he wouldn't have bothered, but he was forced to keep up appearances, like pretending he cared for the working class. Octavia knew he didn't. Following Geta's lead was his brother. Caracalla raised his hand, but this time, raising it in front of Geta. It was a battle for dominance over the empire. Octavia had lived with them for a year now and knew they battled for power against one another. It was uncanny for more than one emperor to sit the throne, and, so, with predisposition in their hearts, they fought each other for the throne over and over again without truly realising they were fighting to begin with.

     The crowd cheered as the emperors waved to them before Caracalla quickly turned to his seat, however, Geta remained standing. "And with them, Emperor Geta's dashing bride, and our future empress, Octavia Amulius!" The master of ceremonies introduced as Octavia began to walk down the steps into the royal box, the mere mention of her name and her presence in the colosseum causing for the crowd to cheer, and much louder than before, even louder than the emperors' entrance into the royal box.

Octavia continued to walk down the steps until she came to a quick halt. She then looked to Geta who smiled warmly at her and held out his hand for her to take. The woman placed her hand gently into the emperors, igniting the crowd across the entire colosseum. Octavia turned to the crowd upon hearing their lively cheers echo through her eardrums, a smile finding its way to her lips, and this time, it was genuine, when she heard their kind words towards her.

"Octavia, we love you!"

"The delight of Rome!"

Octavia bowed her head in honour as a response to their kindness and openness towards her mere presence with them on this day. The woman was then guided to her seat placed directly beside Geta, giving her a perfect view to the violence that would ensue in front of her very eyes at any moment now. It made her feel uneasy as she shuffled uncomfortably in her chair, her hand still holding onto Geta's, who was still standing, taking in the crowd with excitement written all over his pale features. It sent chills up Octavia's spine to know he got off on this — not only being the centre of attention — but for the bloodshed that would take place inside the colosseum today.

     "Citizens of Rome!" The master of ceremonies addressed the crowd, his voice booming across the colosseum, forcing the crowd to quiet down so he could continue. "These sacred games are held to honour the victory of Rome over the barbarians of Numidia!" Boos then stirred from the crowd, full of disgust when the barbarians were mentioned, all while Octavia could only let out an exasperated sigh. She believed these men were more than barbarians. They deserved to be treated better than animals they were made out to be.

"And to honour Rome's legionary commander, General Justus Acacius!" Octavia turned her head to see Acacius begin to make his way down the steps into the royal box. "And with him...Lucilla, the daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius!" Lucilla followed her husband, holding a small piece of lavender to her chest while she smiled at the crowd with gratitude in her eyes for the Roman people.

However, before either Acacius or Lucilla could take a seat, the emperors called upon the general to speak to the people. Acacius was hesitant at first, but when Octavia sent the man an encouraging and reassuring gaze, he reluctantly stepped down to the front of the royal box. The man then paused for a moment, looking out at the crowd before he parted his lips to speak. "I am not an orator or a politician. I am a soldier. I have seen bravery in men and women during war. And even once in this arena. So if you ask anything of the gods...ask for that same bravery. Because Rome needs it now." The crowd cheered as Acacius returned to his seat.

And regardless of the displeased glances coming from the emperors as Acacius passed them to get back to his seat, Octavia allowed a ghost of a smile to form across her lips before she applauded the man and his wise words. She knew it would cause for both Geta and Caracalla to stare back at her with glares in their eyes, knowing Acacius words were more than just words. But Octavia ignored their glances coming from their direction and applauded the general regardless of how the emperors would feel. Acacius gave the people hope of a better future for Rome — the same future Octavia believed could be real if the city was under a better ruler.

And it was that same hope that continued to keep Rome alive.

"From the South Gate, fighters from the stable of Macrinus of Thysdrus!" The master of ceremonies then introduced, snapping Octavia out of her thoughts.

The woman turned her attention to where the South Gate was located, watching as the doors open and stepped out a group of men, strong and determined, dressed in armour and sharp blades in their hands. That was when Octavia caught a glimpse of him. Hanno. He was now dressed in tacky gladiator armour, which seemed to appear better than the rags she had last seen him in yesterday. Octavia watched as he held tightly onto the sword in his hand, his head turning towards the royal box as his eyes met her own. And for a moment, while Octavia did not realise it herself at first, she felt her heart hammer hard against her chest, and it took a moment to realise Hanno had been the reason.

     What was it about this one gladiator that made her whole world stop?

     Octavia was quickly pulled away from her fixation on the gladiator when she felt Geta give her hand a tight squeeze. This caused for the woman to turn her attention away from Hanno before she glanced back at her husband to-be, forcing a smile as he raised her hand and placed a gentle kiss to the ring on her finger. The same ring that sealed their engagement a year ago. From afar, Hanno could see through the woman's forced grin while she stared at the mad emperor, shuffling uncomfortably where he stood when he saw how blatantly obvious it was that Octavia wanted to be anywhere else but there beside the man she was marrying — who she supposedly loved.

     What was it about this one woman that made him yearn unknowingly?

     But he was not given a chance to answer his own question before his longing thoughts were interrupted. "And from the stables of Emperor Caracalla and Geta themselves, the undefeated champion: Glyceo the Destroyer!" Drums began to hum violently throughout the Roman colosseum, and as the gates open, Glyceo stepped out into the open, saddling a rhino, igniting a loud chorus of cheers across the crowd.

     "Hail Caesars!" Glyceo curled his hand and held it to his chest as sign of respect towards the emperors.

As the fight began, Octavia watched as the rhino began to charge towards the gladiators with Glyceo at the helm, holding onto the reins with one hand, a sharp axe in the other. However, it seemed as if the gladiators had a plan in place because as the rhino reached them, they made a quick break for the colosseum walls. But one rogue gladiator decided to try and take on the horned creature alone, swinging his sword towards it before running away into the opposite direction. This caused for Glyceo to steer the rhino into the same direction, throwing down the axe and choosing a new kind of weapon, throwing it at the fighter's ankles and sending him to the ground altogether.

     Octavia flinched at the sight, and she had every right to do so, because the second the rogue gladiator found his way back to his feet, the rhino charged for him again, and without his weapon in hand, the fighter could no longer defend himself against the violent mammal. The rest happened so fast. Octavia watched with horror in her eyes as the rhino hooked its horn into the man's chest before flinging him into the air, the gladiator's limp body colliding into a pillar across the colosseum grounds. The bloodshed was enough to make Octavia let go of Geta's hand before she held her palm to her chest in shock, all while Geta laughed manically with his brother.

     Octavia let out a quiet sigh, grateful that the cheers from the crowd could overshadow her blatant disgust over the whole charade. But Octavia saw the event for what it was. This was not to honour the general, nor his victory in Numidia. This was just an excuse for the emperors to witness violence and relish in every second of it. Whereas for Octavia, she felt her stomach turn upside down, a vile feeling burning in her chest that made her want to throw up. But she found the strength to keep her stomach contents down, not wishing to ruin the emperors' fun.

     Looking ahead again while she tried to neglect the sickening feeling in her stomach, Octavia saw Hanno standing alone in the colosseum while the other fighters remained as close to the wall as possible. He not forge himself into a fighting stance like all fighters should under the circumstances. Instead, he took his sword and stabbed the blade into the ground, before he lowered himself onto one knee. A frown found its way to Octavia's face as the gladiator picked up a handful of gravel and brought it closer to his face, almost like he was sniffing it.

     Octavia felt a sense of familiarity in Hanno's actions. She recalled the story her father told her about a fight he had witnessed in the colosseum years ago when she was just a mere child. Florian Amulius had spoken of a great gladiator, who fought better than all the others, with strange and honour. The great Maximus Decimus Meridius — that was his name. She didn't understand how a man from the land of Numidia could replicate the actions of one great gladiator who was born in Rome, and died in Rome. It left Octavia with more questions about the gladiator than ever before.

     She lifted her gaze again to see Hanno pick up two handfuls of the gravel this time around, determination in his eyes as the rhino charged towards him with Glyceo holding onto the reins. And at the right time, Hanno threw the two handfuls of gravel into the air, creating a dusty cloud that allows him to escape the creature coming his way. However, the rhino was not as lucky as he charges straight into the colosseum walls in from of the royal box, causing for the creature to groan and whimper in pain as its sharp horn broke off in the process. Octavia gasped at the sight while the emperors jumped at the chance to race out of their seats to look over the edge of the box.

     Just as Hanno rose back to his feet, his sword now in hand, Glyceo slides off the injured rhino before he rushed towards the gladiator, the pair of fighters beginning to battle against each other in the midst of close quarter combat. While Hanno used his sword, Glyceo used nothing but his curled fists that demanded blood needed to be spilled. But Hanno was able to gain the upper hand by swinging the sword in his hand and using the hilt of the weapon to whack Glyceo repeatedly in the face, sending him to the ground.

     "Brother, it's the poet, is it not?" Geta's voice was enough to take Octavia's attention elsewhere, the woman diverting her gaze from the fight to where Geta and Caracalla stood.

     "I can't remember," Caracalla replied, sounding rather confused by his brother's question. "That night was a blur." He then informed as he returned back to his seat.

     Octavia shuffled uncomfortably in her seat once again as Geta looked at her, and then back to his brother. "The gates of hell are open night and day. Smooth the des - I forget," Geta recalled, stumbling over his words as his own recollection of yesterday's events seemed to decline, but he couldn't blame an illness for that one. Octavia knew the wine was to blame.

     "Smooth is the descent, easy is the way," A familiar voice ringing through the air in the form of quiet mumble caused for Octavia to look behind her, only to see Lucilla was now standing with a bewildered expression plastered across her face. The poem spoken by Hanno at the party yesterday was familiar to the woman, so much so that it left her pondering through her own thoughts in silence. It made Octavia wonder what Lucilla had sensed about the poem that she herself had failed to realise.

     Octavia was so lost in her own thoughts that she had not realised the fight was almost over. By the time she turned her attention back to the fight, Hanno was now on the ground gasping for breath while Glyceo, axe now in hand, was soaking up the applause coming from the crowd.

     "Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!" The crowd chanted.

     Octavia was now standing up from her seat, looking down at Hanno with worry in her eyes. She was worried for his safety. That was when Geta turned to her with a kind and compassionate look in his eyes, a kind of look that was unheard of from the man in Rome. Octavia had seen that look on rare occasions, and this was now becoming one of them. "Octavia, My Love. You have taken a liking to this gladiator...shall we show mercy?" Geta asked her.

     Hanno's life was now in her hands.

     Swallowing the lump lodged in the back of her throat, she nodded her head. "Mercy," She declared with certainty, her voice just above a whisper.

     Geta then turned away from her before he looked down at the fighters, stretching his hand out before he gave them a thumbs up, the crowd cheering when the emperor decided to grant Hanno the mercy Octavia had asked of him. Octavia herself even sighed with relief when the emperor followed her wishes. However, not everyone was happy with the results of the fight, Hanno being one of them as he rose onto his knees. "No mercy!" He yelled, blood falling down his face, and even more trickling from the fresh wound on his arm.

     Geta chuckled with amusement in response to the gladiator's words. "Your life has been spared by the gods—"

     "I would sooner face your blade than accept Roman mercy!" Hanno interjected, cutting the emperor off with zero hesitation. Octavia stepped forward with a puzzled expression aligned with her features. He rejected mercy. What kind of mad man does that?

     And with that, Glyceo turned to strike down Hanno, but the gladiator was fast. He was quick to roll over and grab the sword on the ground, and with zero hesitation, rage and fury burning in his bloodstream, Hanno stabbed Glyceo in the gut, twisting the blade before he retracted the weapon altogether. Octavia gasped in surprise as she clutched her chest, her eyes darting towards Geta, whose face twitched with agitation before he demonstrated a thumbs down, declaring that Glyceo had to die for his failure. A fate Hanno had no trouble of carrying through before he picked up a second sword, swinging the blades in his hands before he made his strike, decapitation Glyceo's head from his shoulders.

As the crowd cheered again, Hanno's gaze found Octavia's again as he threw the swords caked in flesh and blood down to the gravel. He spared her one last look before he turned to leave the arena, and as Octavia let out the breath she had been holding in for what seemed like forever, she came to the realisation that Hanno was unlike anyone she had ever met before — And she was determined to find out more.

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authors note.
It's been a hot minute since I last updated but last week was a very busy week for me so had to put writing on hold for a second. But I managed to keep my promise and update this week, and well...this one was a pain to write because I can't write action scenes to save my life so hopefully this is good enough for you guys. But the next couple of chapters are some of my favourites that I have planned for this book, and are stacked with my own scenes that aren't from the movie, and I can't wait to share it with you.

Until then I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'll be updating again very soon!!