(So far…)

“Draw yer weapon,” Bahb heard the voice behind him growl, flooding his brain with fight-or-flight.

He does a quick scan of his surroundings—frightened bystanders all around; the bar to his right; an exit at the front, behind him and the other guy; there’s a doorway in the wall a few feet ahead, but not sure where it goes, could be a back exit, or a storage room.

{Should Bahb A: Stand and fight with risk to bystanders; B: Try to make his way to the front exit, lowering the risk to bystanders, but increasing risk to himself, or C: Try the door in the back saving bystanders, but possibly leaving him trapped???}

Bahb looked back with a side glance and saw a stone-faced man with a head closer to the sky than to the ground, and with the proportionate bulk to match. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, my friend, mind letting me know the name of the man who aims to have me in, perhaps even the why of the having in?”

The man spoke with a snarling tone, “Name’s Kk’vin, and—“

“—I’ll be sure to tell the masons when they carve yer headstone,” Bahb cross-drew his pistol-blade from his left hip, turning and firing with one motion, letting a bolt fly directly between Kk’vin’s eyes.

Kk’vin made a subtle tilt of his head to one side, allowing the bolt to just barely graze a strand of his hair before flying past and making home in the door frame behind him. “—And,” he continued as if he just dodged an annoying gnat, “I’m here to cleanse you of yer sins against the Church of the Evolution.”

“Oh…” Crap. The Church of the Evolution was a group started by some crazy scientist type; he believed it was the holy right of science to give the evolution of man a slight push. As a result, the leviathan that stood before Bahb wasn’t just suffering from a thyroid problem—he’s been augmented. Other than the obviously heightened reflexes, one could only guess what else had been done to him.

Bahb, like most people with any grasp on sanity and sense, had made it a point to steer clear of the Church, so he couldn’t imagine what he could have stumble into that might have crossed them the wrong way. What Bahb did know was that if he didn’t move quickly, he wouldn’t have much chance to concern himself over it.

He immediately drew his pistol-blade from his other hip, and began firing at the wall passing itself off as a man, and that man smacked away bolts with the side of his own blades, causing them to strike bystanders at random as they tried their best to get the hell out through the panic and chaos. As Bahb continued to lay down cover, he strafed his way to the bar, and did a jump and slide across it, to land on the other side squatted next to the trembling barkeep.

“Hey, is there a back way out of here?” Bahb whispered to his new companion.

The barkeep opened his mouth as if to respond, but with the sound of a ping in front of them, he was stopped with the sudden appearance of a gaping hole in his forehead.

{Should Bahb A: Surrender, and take his chances with Kk’vin; B: Fight past Kk’vin for the front exit; or C: Take his chances with the back door???}

Bahb crouch-walked his way towards the back, keeping his head down as he went.

“Stand and fight, heathen!”

Bahb glanced up at the bar mirror and could see Kk’vin practically foaming at the mouth as he cursed him. At that moment, their eyes met in the reflection—Kk’vin raised his pistol-blade, and at a slight angle, shot a bolt off a metal sign hanging on the wall, ricocheting the bolt back at Bahb, cutting through the sleeve of his left shoulder, just barely leaving a red mark in his flesh from the bolt’s heat.

“That was a warning shot; I have no problem plucking you off like a coward if you give me no other choice!”

Yeah, it’s time to go. Bahb made a last dash for the door at the back, and slammed it behind him, leaving him in darkness. Stumbling around what felt like a maze of crates and cleaning supplies, Bahb managed to find a string hanging down that clicked on a light.

Great, it was actually a storage room, with nothing but walls and supplies.

“Get out here!” Kk’vin snarled outside the closet, punctuating with a bolt being sent through the door, just missing from shooting Bahb in the ass, and continuing through the opposite wall.

Bahb looked at the hole left by Kk’vin’s bolt and noticed it being filled with daylight. The wall must not be too thick; maybe I can make my own exit. He thrust the heel of his boot at the wall with all his power only to bounce him back hobbling and shaking off a jarred knee. Ok, new plan…

He began looking around at the crates and supplies in the room. There were basic cleaning supplies: buckets, mops, rags, some fix-all tape. The crates were filled with random spirits, some marked with no more than a number of ‘Xs,’—meaning they were supplied by a “home-brewer,” and not all together legal… But, Bahb thought while picking up a bottle that somehow bared a brand of six ‘Xs,’ I bet they can make a nice “boom.”

{Should Bahb A: Try making a “boom” at the outer wall; B: Try making a “boom” at the augmented Kk’vin; or C: Screw it, see how high an ‘X’ he can drink before making a “boom” at his liver??? (I kinda ran out of choice ideas there)}

Bahb grabbed the fix-all tape and strapped together a cluster of four of the largest number of ‘Xs’ he could find—there’s no such thing as “over kill” when it comes to dealing with an Evo.

“Get out here, you cowardly heathen! You can’t run from the Selection!” Kk’vin continued in his provoking rants sending another round through the door.

“Oh, don’t worry, my friend, I’m not running,” Bahb responded as he began towards the door, “As a matter of fact, I was thinking maybe we could both just sit down like gentlemen and talk about this over some drinks—first round’s on me!” he threw the door open throwing the cluster just above Kk’vin’s surprised face, and sent a heated bolt through the bottles, instantly igniting them in a blasting fire ball that sent both Bahb and Kk’vin flying back.

Bahb recovered himself from the storage room floor in a slight daze with the heat of flames surrounding him. He looked around, but couldn’t see Kk’vin’s remains anywhere through the chaos of fire and the remaining bystanders trying to get out. A searing pain suddenly shot through him with such violence, his brain could barely process which part of his body it was coming from, but looking down at his right arm, and seeing from his hand to his elbow seemed to be shredded with hot glass shards, he was easily able to identify the source.

Getting himself to his feat, Bahb looked around for his pistol-blade, only to find it in pile of flame; he decided to leave it and start making his way towards the exit through a path of burning.

Fire shot from all around, and cracking timbers seemed to constantly manifest from nowhere just to feed it and block Bahb at almost every turn so he couldn’t seem to run a step without it being rewarded with the flames licking at him and smoke smothering him. He finally made his way to the exit and plunged his way through the flapping door, throwing himself to the ground in exhaustion.

“Bahb…!” He heard muffled from somewhere. He forced an eye half open to see a vague silhouette coming towards him. “You’re still alive…”

Am I…?

He could feel fingers prying themselves beneath him and his body being lifted from the ground with an odd sense of the world moving around him. His weight shifted as if the ground had just become solid again, but then the feel of motion returned.

Fading in and out of consciousness, Bahb could feel the world jostling him at random and see the sky running past him, becoming dimmer each time he saw it. And then the world went away.

His head began to fill with random images of violence, flashes of Kk’vin’s menacing snarl, and flames, only to be occasionally interrupted by the sounds of a soft voice. He could only barely make out the words, but he still felt that they were calming and peaceful.

The images began to fade away and Bahb slowly opened his eyes with a heavy clouded feeling in his head. He began looking around and saw that he was lying on a cot in a small room lit only by a fireplace. He tried to put himself upright, only to be quickly reminded of his injuries to his arm as pain threw him back down. He examined it, and it would seem that someone had skillfully dressed it with bandages that were clean except for the blood just now beginning to soak into them, most likely from his provoking.

Pushing himself up with more care to his arm, his head spun and the world shifted around him. Either I’m bleeding worse than I realize, I’m drugged, or both…

Just then, he heard a sound coming from outside a doorway to his left. He started forcing himself onto his feet, aiming towards the door with great effort.

“Don’t even try it.” A woman said as she came through the door carrying a tray in one hand, and shoving Bahb back down with the other with a surprising amount of strength.

Bahb looked at the woman as she prepared some concoction and new bandages, and searched his memory through his drugged haze. She was five-foot-six, give or take, with a farm girl’s shoulders, and dark red hair that went down to about the middle of her back, “Cherry…?”

She looked at him and smiled, “I’ve actually been going by Scarlet, lately,” She began snipping through Bahb’s used bandage and removing it, “but of course, that’s not exactly my real name either.” Cherry… or Scarlet, or whatever, was a “working girl” from a town Bahb commonly passed through, and usually made a habit of paying her a visit.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my place. And it was either I brought you here, or left you to die either by your own wounds or by, Father only knows, what my brother would have done to you,” she said while smearing some toxic smelling ointment over Bahb’s stitched-up wounds and placing the new bandage back on with expert ease.

“Brother…” Bahb uttered confused, “That was yer—did you lift me up back there—son’of’a… yer an Evo?” Should of figured they weren’t real.

Scarlet slapped Bahb’s forehead bouncing his head into the bed, “They’re real enough, you pig.”

Wait… I’m pretty sure I thought that part—oh dear god, he truly is a mad man. What sane man would give a woman the ability to hear a man’s thoughts?

Scarlet slapped him again, “Yes, I can hear your thoughts. And be grateful, it’s what helped me find you—well, that and the pile of flames. I would have gotten to you sooner and tried to warn you, but they weren’t making it very easy for me to get out of the compound this time.”

“Warn me about what? What the hell did I do that would have had any of them going after me—I mean, other than what would have had them going after several other men?”

{Should Bahb A: Care what her answer is; B: Down the remainder of whatever she’s drugging him with and go back to bed; or C: Wonder what would have happened if he went with the other choices so far??? You don’t really need to vote for this one, but I just broke 1k and I’m just in need for a break, I’ll pick this back up and have real choices tomorrow}

“Well, about those ‘several other men’,” Scarlet looked down at nothing, “as it happens, you’re actually the only one…”

Bahb stared blankly at Scarlet for a moment trying to figure out if he understood her correctly, if she was completely screwing with him, or if she was crazy, “Um… I’m not exactly a professional in yer line of work, but I’m pretty sure if I was the only man, then you might not be doing something right.”

“There were other men that paid me; it was just that with them, I always just pushed thoughts and memories into their heads, made them believe something happened. But you were different—“ Scarlet stopped in mid-sentence and started looking around, “Oh’no, he found us—I don’t know how, but—“

Bahb heard a crash from outside the doorway, “Where is that heathen?” Kk’vin’s unmistakable snarl yelled from the next room.

Scarlet immediately stood up and went out of the room, “What are you doing here? He isn’t here, now go!”

“Don’t you try any of yer mind tricks on me, Kk’rin, you know that don’t work on me. I know yer hiding him; I can smell ‘im.”

Kk’rin? Kk’vin and Kk’rin? Screwy ass cults… Bahb struggled to get back to his feet with even more difficulty than before.

“Now hand over that infidel or—“

“—Or what? You know you’d never lay a hand on me, if only for fear of what Father would do to you after.”

Just then, what sounded like an explosion that practically shook the whole building rumbled from the other room.

{Should Bahb A: Force himself up to face Kk’vin in his drugged and injured state; B: Surrender, and take his chances with the screwy ass cult; C: Go back to bed and hope this was all just a drug-induced dream???}

The explosion flooded Bahb’s body with more than enough adrenaline to force himself passed his drugged and injured state and get to his staggering feet. He noticed, hanging at the foot of his cot, his belt with his remaining pistol-blade holstered in it and immediately grabbed for its so familiar grip.

With pistol-blade at the ready, Bahb stumbled out the door, hoping his need to use the doorframe as a brace didn’t show too much, and without delay pointed around the room in search for his target. First thing he saw was Scarlet, instead of looking like the female in distress he expected to be coming to rescue, held a long wide-mouthed rifle, fashion with a boarding ax, braced with a single hand. The barrel was smoking and pointed at the ready—at the business end, lying on the other end of the room, was Kk’vin.

The trim around the hole in Kk’vin’s shirt was still cindering, while the wound itself was quickly become a gaping bloodied mess, to a slightly pink scar, and then Kk’vin began slowly moving again, struggling to get up through the bits and pieces of the table set that he apparently flew into.

Bahb cocked back the hammer of his pistol-blade, aiming right between Kk’vin’s eyes and Kk’vin immediately locked eyes with him as he stood up. Sniffing the air, Kk’vin looked at Bahb and smiled knowingly, “Missing something…?”

“No, but you’ll be missing parts of yer brain soon.” Bahb squeezed the trigger waiting for the micro-seconds to pass for the bolt to pass through the barrel and was received with only and empty click—Crap, I was too out of it to notice the difference in weight.

Kk’vin, with an added amount of sinister joy, started charging towards Bahb only to be instantly halted by the cocking sound of Scarlet’s rifle-ax, “I assure you, dear brother, I am still fully loaded.”

Kk’vin looked down Scarlet’s barrel with a snarl, “How dare you? What do you think Father would do to you, if found out?”

“Do you honestly think I care what Father would do to me anymore, after everything else he’s already done?”

Raising his hand for attention, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get in the middle of this family therapy session you have going here, but could either of you be bothered to let me in on what the hell any of this has to do with me?”

Kk’vin looked back at Bahb with a growl, “You dishonorable lying sack of—“

“No, Kk’vin, he really doesn’t know, he’s innocent, he knows nothing about what happened,” Scarlet interjected.

Kk’vin looked between them with fists clenched with enough furry to turn coal to diamond, “That doesn’t change the results, does it? Now the Selection must be resolved…”

“I don’t know what the hell this ‘Selection’ is, but I’m not going anywhere without a fight,” Bahb said pointing his pistol-blade at Kk’vin only to be reminded again by Kk’vin’s smirk that it was still empty. Bahb then flipped the pistol-blade back, gripping it at its hilt, and pushed himself from the door frame towards Kk’vin with the blade aimed across his throat.

Kk’vin just stood with his grin, and immediately grabbed Bahb’s weapon hand by the wrist, forcing away the pistol-blade, and lifted him to eye level. With his other hand placed around Bahb’s entire neck with enough pressure to make the frames of his vision to begin to blacken.

“No!” Scarlet screamed, “Kk’vin, don’t! Please, just let him go, and I’ll go back with you willingly—you know Father will consider me a better prize than him anyway.”

Kk’vin looked between Scarlet and Bahb and, with a snarl, just as everything was starting to fade out and Bahb could just barely acknowledge anything that was happening, he threw him down with a hard slam against a wall.

Bahb choked, struggling to bring air back into him, and with fists clenched, “You’ll be going nowhere with her!”

“Bahb,” he heard Scarlet say, “Look at me…”

Bahb glanced over at Scarlet, prying his lock from Kk’vin, “What?”

“What color are my eyes, Bahb?” Scarlet said in an odd tone.

“What color are yer…” Bahb looked at Scarlet’s eyes, and he couldn’t remember if he ever did before, they were a deep blue, but they seemed to gradually change, as they became a sort of green—or are they red—no, purple—yellow?—

{Slight difference in choices this time as I’m at a point where the story must now go only one direction without turning back or go somewhere else altogether. Basically, Bahb was just knocked out by Scarlet’s gaze, I can A: Carry this in the direction that will lead to the discovery of what the Church wants with Bahb (which says we’re nearing the end of this line); or B: Have Bahb wake up and say screw this Church crap and go elsewhere (and I do have other ideas—think Hex meets Cowboys and Aliens) (but if you choose A, B can’t be done later… at least not as I foresee it)}

Bahb walked into the town so familiar that it was where he considered his home to be, or at least the closest he ever came to having one. He walked into the tavern that he knew as his house, and as soon as he walked through its flapping doors, he looked up to the second floor balcony to be greeted by the smile so bright and real that even her eyes smiled as she looked back down at him. As her existence emanated in its spot, all else around seemed to exist as no more than walls and furniture—the medium sized red-haired woman who welcomed him up with embracing arms and guided him to their usual room.

The moment he walked through the door, she began removing his gun-belt and the layers of his clothing as if she were removing the weight of the world from his being. And she led him over to the bed with its icy cold sheets that are warmed only by her… … …

A sharp pain dug into Bahb’s back. He forced his eyes open only to be blinded by a searing pain from the sunlight through a window. He rolled to his side, grabbing behind him and recovered what appeared to be the remains of a broken table leg, with a corner that was position just perfectly targeting his spine. Throwing the leg to the side, Bahb, planted his hands to the floor, and forced himself up, grabbing for walls and whatever he could find for support.

He looked around in a hang-over level of a daze, “Good’lord, what happened…” Memories began to rush their way through his mind, of Kk’vin and Scarlet, of her offering herself to save him. He looked around the small cabin he was in and found himself alone. The table-set that should have been Kk’vin’s grave sat in its broken pile, Scarlet’s rifle-ax sat on the floor a few feet from him, and the air already seemed to taste stale, with dust settling in.

Bahb walked over to pick up the rifle-ax, and as soon as the tips of his fingers touched it, his mind was jolted with images… … …

The red-haired woman lay alone in her bed, and was forced awake by the sound of her door being instantly blasted and blown to pieces. She pulled a pistol-blade from her side table and pointed it at the gaping hole, waiting for a target.

In stepped a tall man dressed in a black three-piece suit, and a very round, black hat that all but hid his cold gaze. A pain came across the red-haired woman as the man’s gaze drilled into her, forcing her to helplessly lower her weapon, allowing the pain to seep away.

The man raised a hand and waived in three larger men that each had to duck to walk through the remaining doorway and walked towards her, grabbing her by her arms and feet as she struggled to free herself.

“No! You can’t do this!” The red-haired woman heard her words echo out of her.

The man looked at her as she was carried passed and through the door, “You knew this would happen. Run or fight, no one can ever escape the Selection…” … … …

Bahb stood staring at the cabin’s front door with a pain in the knuckles of his right hand. He looked down to notice he was gripping the hilt of the rifle-ax so tight he had reopen some of his wounds and was now staining the rifle-ax’s wood finish with streams of blood.

Bahb shook his head clear, turned towards the back room. He grabbed his gun-belt from the end of the bed and strapped it around him. Walked over to the tray of medical supplies and picked up the pair of scissors to begin redressing his bandage… … …

The red-haired woman lay strapped to a table in a room that was so well lit that its white walls seemed to give off their own glow. Covered with a white sheet, she couldn’t see passed her raised up knees, except for the momentary glimpses of men in fully white gowns and face-masks.

Her head was clouded, she wanted to scream, but couldn’t form words. She continued to look around for any hope of escape and saw the man in the black suite standing to the side—watching.

“You can’t… you can’t do this…” She heard herself force out.

The man looked away as if the sight of her pained him.

“Please!” As she lifted a hand, outstretched towards him, the red-haired woman’s whole being flooded with an indescribable pain… … …

Bahb sat on the cot staring into the remaining cinders of the fireplace. He shook his head and looked around confused. He had his wounded arm exposed and bloody, with the used bandages scattered to the side and the scissors still gripped through his fingers, with his knuckles turning white with tension.

He suddenly threw the scissors across the room as if they were somehow cursed, “What the hell is happening to me? What the hell did that woman put in my head?”

Bahb slapped the side of his head a couple times as if expecting to jar and dislodge away Scarlet’s voodoo. Unsure what to make of anything he was seeing, he just went back to cleaning and re-bandaging his arm as best he could with his non-dominate side—which didn’t look at all as good as when Scarlet did it, but it would have to do. He got his pistol-blade from the floor in the outer-room, loaded it from a box of ammo he found sitting on the mantel, and holstered it at his side.

He slung the rifle-ax to his back before opening the door, and exiting into a cool evening breeze. His sense of time is more than thrown, he has no idea how much time had passed since his first meeting with Kk’vin, or even how long he was out after this last one. For all he knew, he could have missed a day, or even a full month.

Bahb turned his head as he heard a horse-snort coming from a small barn just to the side of the cabin. He walked over and saw a horse drinking from a water-trough. Greeting the horse with a pat to its neck, Bahb glanced in the trough and noticed it was still almost full, “Well, either those Church freaks gotta hold of you and turned you into a horse that doesn’t drink much, or she hasn’t been gone very long yet—for some reason that first option seems more possible that I’d like.”

Bahb grabbed a saddle and began setting up the horse. All the while, he began running the images of his previous visions through his head, trying his best to sort out their meaning. Clearly, after I left her last, her Church family came and got her—which I guess is typical for most cults—but I’ve known her for at least a few years, why would they wait to get her now? Was she really that hard for them to find ‘til then, or did something happen that made her a bigger deal… “And what the hell does any of this have to do with me?”

Bahb mounted the horse and directed it out the barn, and wandered a few yards from the cabin before stopping to stare into his many possible directions. Where now? He stared east, and was flooded with a feeling of urgency and longing—he didn’t understand what it was, but he somehow knew there was something important in that direction that needed him.

So, he turned the horse pointed towards the east, and it didn’t trot more than a few steps before it stopped and reared up in alarm. Bahb managed to get the horse under control just in time to see the sky light up as if the whole thing had caught on fire and a blazing object came soaring passed him, behind him towards the west, ending with a giant explosion that gave the western horizon a radiating glow.

{Should Bahb A: Head east to discover the source of the feeling of urgency; or B: Head west to discover the source of the burning horizon; or Should I C: Change PoVs (I’m not saying to who, where, or when)???}

Bahb looked back to the east, where his very existence felt drawn to go, but then directed the horse in the opposite direction, towards the west, where the horizon burned. As he drew away from the east, with each trot, he felt a resistance, not like walking against the wind, but like being strapped to an elastic band, pulling him back to the urging east. But he continued forward.

Riding through the constant pull, it wasn’t long before Bahb lost track of distance, but from the changing angle of the sun, he determined he had ridden for at least half the day before he came across a stream, and chose to stop to water the horse. The glow a head still blazed bright enough to show through the setting sun, so he figured it’d still be there later. He slid off and guided the horse to the water, then decided to pass his time looking for small game.

A few minutes passed, and he managed to just catch a glimpse of a rabbit’s tail poking out from some brush. He slowly stalked towards it, drawing his pistol blade and looking for a clear shot. Looking down the barrel until it became one with his target, he squeezed the trigger… … …

The red-haired woman felt a blissful surge of endorphins as all the pain seemed to fade away, but fighting her mind passed the lull, she looked around in panic. She saw the men in white step out from hiding behind her bent knees, their gowns and gloves now covered with blotches of red. Some walked away with shiny and reddened steel tools, while one walked away with what looked like a bundle of blankets heading towards a door.

The red-haired woman looks back at the man in black with pleading eyes, as he continued to look away with only side-glances at the handy work of the men in white.

“Please!” She heard her voice echo off the white walls, “You can’t do this!” From outside the door, her attention was drawn by the sound of a squealing cry, “Please, Father!” … … …

Bahb felt a rock jabbing into his knee as he looked around in a daze. The sun was now set as low into the western sky as it could be and still be visible. He looked down at the sharp pain in his wounded hand and noticed he was clutching the bloodied body of the rabbit, now mixing with the blood of his re-open wounds.

Looking back towards the stream, he saw his horse grazing on a tuff of grass. He walked over to it, washed both his wound and the rabbit in the water, and then mounted, directing to continue west toward the blaze, against the unending pull of the east.

As he went, the glow gradually replaced the sun entirely as night set in. The sky became a blanket of glowing black, as whatever the object ahead was completely dimmed any signs of stars.

However, the bigger concern for Bahb was quickly redirecting to his wounds—they weren’t closing very well this time. The reins were becoming difficult to grip as they became increasingly slick with an unending river of his blood. He could feel his consciousness trying to pull away, as he willed himself to stay focused on his task.

With each trot of the horse, he had to keep readjusting his seat to keep from sliding off, until there was nothing he could do. His body seemed to give up listening to him, and just fell completely limp, and he watched the world fall away as he slid from the horse with a hard thud to the ground. He saw the horse trop a few steps further before it noticed it was alone and stopped, slowly trotting back towards him and helplessly nudging him with its nose.

He looked forward, and through a blurred vision he saw the object only a few yards away, glowing like a great bonfire. He stretched out his wounded hand and clawed it into the dirt ahead of him, and with exhausted muscles, he pulled himself forward, biting passed the pain, and then repeated with other hand, over and over. And with one last ounce of energy, he stretched his pained hand out to pull again, and touched a smooth, warm object. The warmth felt like tiny needles all over his beaten muscles, and comforted him like a soft blanket inviting him to sleep.

As his consciousness was about to leave him, through slit, and heavy eye-lids, he saw a moving silhouette. He tried to will his eyes open more to take in a fuller image of this thing that was coming toward him, what he only assumed were eyes, were splayed randomly on stalks on top a head that had no clear separation between its body, and a tooth filled beak on its face. The body was covered with arms that with both fingered and finned, but attached to the body, not with shoulders, but more like branches on a tree. The way it moved, it was difficult to tell where its joints could be, assuming it even had bones.

Through Bahb’s blurred vision, he saw the abomination move closer toward him as he fought to keep his eyes open, and his mind awake, and slowly, he saw the thing seem to begin to melt. Bahb almost felt afraid for it as he watched, despite his own fear of it. Its eye-stalks melted down, along with its beak, and formed an abstract of what it was, and its tentacles joined in the mix.

{Should I A: Continue along this path with Bahb; B: Change PoV to the alien; C: Change PoV to Scarlet???}

(…to be continued…)

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