Everyone froze, staring at the queen.

Finally, Undyne broke the silence. "Why? Is Frisk missing?"

Toriel nodded. "I can't find them anywhere!"

"Did you try calling them?" Gaster asked.

Again, Toriel nodded. "But it went straight to voice mail."

For a moment, everyone just thought on that.

"That might imply," Gaster said carefully, "that they know you would disapprove of whatever they are doing, and are attempting to avoid confrontation with you about it."

"But what would they be doing?"

"Who cares!" Undyne shouted. "It's obviously something dangerous! We gotta find 'em!"

Gaster immediately turned to Sans, who was sitting with his back to the wall, Papyrus in his lap. "Sans. Where are they?"

Sans frowned. "how should i know?"

"You said you could 'feel' them."

Sans' frown deepened as he remembered the day he had become more Pure because of the human. "it's not like i just know where they are! it's like... sonar. if they happen to be in range, then i pick up on the magic energy they give off. but i can't just reach out and feel them."

"So if we got you close enough, would you be able to find them?"

Sans shrugged. "i mean, probably. i don't see why i wouldn't be able to. but that's still gonna be difficult, because if they're not in the lab, that means we're gonna have to fight through corrupters. a lot of them. which i'm not particularly inclined to do."

Toriel frowned at Sans. "I thought you said you liked them."

Sans shrugged again. "yeah, but not enough to put my family, or myself, at risk."

Toriel just looked shocked.

Sans grinned lazily. "hey. i am still mostly corrupt."

"Sans," Papyrus said quietly, "they almost are like family."

Sans pulled Papyrus into an affectionate hug. "yeah, but you actually are family. not almost family."

Gaster sighed heavily.

"Regardless," Toriel began, "we need to find them."

And the planning took on a desperate show.

~o0o~

Frisk had indeed been trying to avoid Toriel's notice.

They were sitting in the lobby of the True Lab, trying to muster up the courage to step out the door...

They had recognized Chara from Papyrus's description. When they had first fallen into the Underground, when they were first standing up in that bed of golden flowers, Chara had been there.

Except they hadn't seemed... solid. They had seemed like a ghost, sort of see-through, floating.

And they had talked to Frisk, as they ran through the Corrupt Ruins. They had told Frisk to kill the Corrupters.

Wouldn't it be so much easier, they had whispered softly, to get by if there was nothing but a bit of dust in your way?

Frisk had said no.

In response, they said, well, look at it this way. It's either them or you, because they aren't going to stop trying to kill you.

Frisk had still said no.

Don't you understand? In this world, it's K I L L or B E K I L L E D .

But Frisk had made it through without hurting anyone. Chara had stopped haunting them once they reached Waterfall. Frisk had almost thought they were some sort of delusion, a hallucination made by their own mind to spur them on in a hostile world.

But they weren't just some mentally-produced image. They were real, and now, suddenly, they were leading the Corrupt army. Or maybe they always had been, whatever it was, it didn't matter.

What mattered was that they had Determination, and they were stronger than any monster in the Underground. Frisk knew they were going to have to face off against Chara if they wanted their friends to live.

Taking a deep breath, they SAVED, and then, tightly clutching their trusty stick, they stepped out of the lab.

It wasn't until they were a good thirty feet from the building that the first Corrupter attacked.

But Frisk didn't hesitate now. They were determined. As the Corrupter lunged, Frisk swung their stick, catching the Corrupt monster across the face. He stumbled, and Frisk used the opportunity to plant a solid kick into its chest. It fell backwards, and Frisk slammed the wide end of the stick like a bat, hitting the monster's head.

So yes, Chara. They could play violent.

They would not kill, though. Fight, yes, but not murder. The Corrupt monster wasn't dissolving, was just unconscious. Frisk had no doubt that when he woke up, he would have a horrible headache, but that would fade. The monster would be fine.

And Frisk had to reach Chara.

They ran on.

~o0o~

Frisk was nearly through New Home.

They had died twice, starting back at the lab. Now, they were making good headway, whacking Corrupters over the skull with their stick.

And then something exploded behind them. They stopped, and so did the five Corrupters they were in the process of beating to unconsciousness.

Suddenly, a blue-green spear was sticking out of one Corrupter's chest, and then another was tossed aside by a huge fireball.

Turning around, they saw that everyone was there. Undyne, dressed in her full-body combat armor, and Toriel, her eyes just as aflame as the Magic in her hands. Asgore, his trident in hand, closely followed by Gerson, the Hammer of Justice. Sans, fending off a pair of Corrupters who were angrily screaming what Frisk could only assume were accusations of betrayal. Even Papyrus was there, somehow having convinced Gaster to let him ride in Gaster's shoulders. There was also a number of Pure soldiers there.

When the last few attacking Corrupters in the area had been killed, Toriel ran forward, sweeping Frisk up in a hug. "My child! You are alright!" For a second, she just hugged Frisk tightly. Then she held them out a little. "But what were you thinking?! You could have been killed!"

Frisk shook their head, and squirmed out of Toriel's grasp. "I'm too determined to die. I have to go stop Chara."

Toriel reached for them again. "Determination alone will not prevent death-"

"Actually..." Gaster approached, Papyrus still clinging to his back. (Frisk had been pretty impressed with Papyrus; despite not attacking, he had quite effectively guarded Gaster from behind.) "I've done some research on Determination. If a Soul has it in enough force, it is possible that it could, ah, bend time to allow it to continue living." He gave Frisk a knowing look.

Frisk stared right back. "There's no time for this. I have to go stop Chara."

Toriel reached out. "Absolutely not, you and I are going-"

Frisk slipped away from Toriel and started running. They had to stop Chara!

They heard pounding footsteps behind them, but they didn't look to see if it was Corrupters or their friends. They just kept running, the fire of determination fueling their feet.

They shoved by Corrupters, ignoring their snarls and screeches, whacking their attacks aside with the trusty stick.

Eventually, they found themselves running down a long, empty corridor. The footsteps behind them had long since faded.

Breathing hard, their legs burning, they slowed to a halt. This was the hallway leading to the throne room. They were on the right track.

Nearby, a golden SAVE point flickered in the dim light. They reached out to it, grinning as the nearness of their final battle filled them with Determination.

And then, clutching the stick tightly, they continued on.

~o0o~

When they got to the throne room, it was empty. They continued past that, to the Barrier room. Chara and Flowey were there. The seven Soul containers, six of them full, were raised from the ground.

As Frisk walked in, both Flowey and Chara looked up.

"Ah!" Chara laughed. "You're finally here! Just in time, too. We've almost gotten these open!"

"Please," Frisk tried ACTing. "You don't have to do this."

Chara laughed again. "Oh, I know that. But I'm going to, anyway." They turned back to the nearest Soul container, the purple Soul inside. "With these Souls, I will destroy this world. I'll kill everyone." They paused, setting a hand on top of the Soul container. Then they looked back at Frisk, their eyes black, a thick, sticky, black liquid dripping from their mouth. "I'll give you one chance. Join me. Kill the monsters. With the power of your Soul, your determination, we'll be unstoppable. We'll kill this world!"

Frisk frowned. "No."

Chara just chuckled and frowned. "Suit yourself. Flowey."

Flowey nodded. And suddenly, vines shot through the Soul containers. Flowey slipped under the ground, reappearing at Chara's feet.

"We tried to tell you, Frisk!" The flower laughed. "In this world, it's KILL or BE KILLED!"

Frisk gripped their stick a little tighter, but did not back down as Flowey dragged the Souls towards himself and Chara.

The world faded to black. It felt, Frisk thought, like that void moment between the "GAME OVER" screen when they died and when they reloaded their SAVE file.

It was like this for a while. They reached for their SAVE file.

Someone laughed. Frisk couldn't tell it it was Chara or Flowey.

They turned around.

It was neither of the two. It was both of the two. It was a bizarre mix, a strange beast with a screen for a head and a darkly grinning face, massive green, thorny hands with knifelike claws, a huge slavering jaw with razor sharp teeth, eyes, all black and dripping.

Frisk shuddered. They were going to have nightmares about that thing for months, if not years.

It laughed again. "You idiot! We have all six Souls, and you have only your own! You think you can beat us? You cannot! We are practically a god! And we will take your Soul, and use it to destroy this world!"

"No." Frisk said simply.

"You cannot beat us! What will you do? Call for help? Ha! Try it. Try it! Call for help! Who will come? No one!"

Frisk did call. No one came.

The Omega beast laughed.

And then the attacks started.

Frisk didn't know where to look, what to avoid. Their Soul glowing red against their chest, they twisted and lunged, but no matter which way they went, they still got hit.

And then it happened. An attack, slashing straight through their Soul. Their HP dropping to zero.

The world went black.

GAME OVER.

Frisk! This is all just a bad dream!

A̓̅̿̂̇̓͏̞͍̜͖͈̪̺N̡̞̄ͦͫͣ̇́D̮͓̹̗̠̙̰͍̙̍̾ͭ̿̂̒̍̃͛͡ ͇̪̘̱͎̑͌̑̊Y̥̱̼̞̐ͧ̔̆͛͋̃ͯͅO̧̗̙̫̱̻͔̙̔̓̈̈́̇̆̅̄̆͝Ṵ̠̥̯̠ͯͬͅR̴̢͇̼̘͕̳̠͔̈́͆ͭE͌ͪ̍ͣͯͬ̂̇́̀҉̬̙ ̴̨̜ͧ̆N̴ͧ́͢҉̣̻̼Ĕ͉̗͕͉̏͂̂̾́̚͘V̡͈̠͕̀̏ͥ͛̽ͮ̔̕Eͮ҉͓͉͠Ŗ̸̧̠ͥͥ̓ͩͣ̃ ̳̹̰͈͔͉̜̟̼͑͂͊͗́̀Ẇ̗̹̻͉͈̼̝ͪ͊Ą̥̰̰̫̲̺̝ͧ͡͠ͅK̗̠͈͈̆̾̌̆́̚͟ͅI̺̋ͦͫ͆N̳̻̟͓͕͋̆̌͘͝G̈́ͨ͏͏̛̩̣̠̖̫ͅ ̆̇ͯ̐̑ͣ͒҉̭͕͡Ų͉̼̥͊ͨ̉͜͜P̶̞͈͌̓̿̆!̡͇̭̤̣̱͖̯ͬ ͪͧ̉͗ͫ̽҉̟̝̝̟̮͚

H̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝H̶̛ͥ̊ͥ̎̑ͥ̈̿͌̊͑̃ͮ҉͖̥̯̺̱̼̺͉̦̤̹̥͚͔͙̺̟̤́A̵̷̧̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕͓̩͓̻̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ͋ͣͩ̃͗̓ͨ͛̕͡͡ͅH̺͓̦͙̠̏͗̐ͭͩͥ͂ͥ̓̏̈́́̚͢͡A̢̢̤̼͖̲̺͖̭̫͌͛͆̄̑ͮ͂̇͗̀͆ͣͭ͜͠ͅH̴̴͖͚̭̙̄̀̐͛̔̈́̈͊͋̇̋͡A̡̛̪̳̺̼͙̺̺̺͓̻͖̪͚ͩͤ͛̈́ͭ̾́̎ͦͯ̃͑̔̋ͫ͛͒̏̀͞͞ͅHͫ͗̃̄̐̿ͩ҉̀͏̸̝̯̦̬͎͍ͅA̿̏͑̈́͆̇̎ͣ̊͡͏̲̝̤͉̜͍͉̝̱͍̹̗̪͈͈̦̭ͅͅH̶̰͉̮͓͓͉̰͎̞̠͙͙̱̹̰̠̼͓͛͋̋ͧ͐͊̓ͧͩ̚ͅA̻̲͎̹̰̱̥̮̮͈ͨ̀͆͂̅͂͂̀ͩ́͜͝H̢̢̬͖͓ͥ͆ͪ͐͋ͨ̓̊̋ͭ̑ͪͫͬͦ͐̈́͑̕͟͝A̳̘̦͎̳̤̱̣̲̹̘̠̩͒͋̉ͯ̋̎ͩ̈ͫ̅̋̿̀ͫ͘͝ͅH̶̱̯͎̪̙͕̣̩̪̪̦̞̠̣͚̟͈̯͛̂͊̋ͪ͐̔ͭ͊̉̔̓̓̈́̏̈́͘͢Ǎ̵͊ͦ̕҉̶̧̭̞̺̬̠Ḧ̸́̏ͭ̔͌̅͡҉̷̟̻̖̝̫̠̞̹͡Ạ̭̟͍̲̪̱̱̻͈̺͎̱̞̤̮͙̭̍́̔ͤͧͯͨ̈͘ͅḤ̯̼̬̘͚̗̞̜̭͈̘̌ͯͪ̔ͬͥͭ́̽̀͘͠͝ͅA͊͌ͧ̓͏̴͔̟̞͓̰̮͎͔̻̥̩̜ͅH̨̔ͨ͂́ͩ̓̿̑ͣͣ͏͔̰̤Ą̣̳̞͎͎͙͕̳͕̌͛ͩ́̔̿ͨ̂ͬ̽̚̚̕͠H̴͓͇̳̘͖̙̗̘̮̙̣͖̱͈͒͒̄ͫ̿̓̅ͨ̐́A̵̗̖̲̫̰̬̘̩̦̐̏̾̐̀ͧ̈́̏́͘͟͝A̵̝̙͚̦͓͙̱̱̖̠̭͚̖͔͉̘͕̐̇́ͧͮ̒̈́̈́̎ͧ̔ͩ̈ͫ̕͡ͅ

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I remembered the first time I played Undertale, and I got to the part where Flowey closes the game... it was, like, 2:00 AM and I almost screamed. XD

Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Remember, votes and comments are not only always welcome, but always appreciated!