𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐚

𝐁𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝟐

𝙰𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚔𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗.

𝙺𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙸𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚔.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚝.

𝙺𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜.

𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚝.

𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚑.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚊.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚊.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗

𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚞.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚊𝚝𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚞.

𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙱𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒.

𝙱𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚖 𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚔 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜.

𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚑.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚑.

𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚔.

𝙱𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕.

𝙱𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚊𝚙 𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚔𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚞 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚔.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚞 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚓𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚑 𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚔𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚊𝚗.

𝙱𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊

𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚔.

𝚆𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚑𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚌𝚊𝚝.

"𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒.

"𝙰𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚙𝚊?"

"𝙸𝚔𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚔𝚞."

𝙽𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚊𝚛 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜.

𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚒 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚊𝚑, 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞 𝚍𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐.

𝚃𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝.

𝚁𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜.

𝙴𝚔𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚕 𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑.

"𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐..."

𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗.

"𝙳𝚒𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒."

𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋 𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚔.

𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚓𝚊.

"𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚞𝚜?"

𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚜.

𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚞𝚍𝚞𝚔 𝚍𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚊𝚗.

𝚃𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖-𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚒.

𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚗.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚠𝚊.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚛.

𝚂𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚑𝚠𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚓𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚔 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒 𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚎𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗.

𝙲𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚊.

𝚃𝚘𝚔𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊.

𝚃𝚞𝚓𝚞𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊.

𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒.

"𝙸𝚗𝚒 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚔 𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚕."

𝚐𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚔𝚞.

"𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚔 𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚕."

𝚜𝚊𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊.

𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚔 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚒.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚊."

"𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊."

𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋 𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊.

"𝙸𝚝𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗."

"𝙸𝚝𝚞 𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚝."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚠𝚊.

𝙷𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚔 𝚒𝚝𝚞.

𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚖 𝚞𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚢𝚊.

"𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚞?"

𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚑.

"𝙰𝚙𝚊?"

𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚊."

𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚕.

"𝚂𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒."

𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙻𝚊𝚕𝚞

𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚔𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙱𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚓𝚊.

𝚃𝚊𝚗𝚙𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗.

𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚝.

"𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊—"

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚞 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚐𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚞."

𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊.

"𝙹𝚊𝚍𝚒 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑."

"𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚊?"

"𝙸𝚢𝚊."

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚊."

"𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔?"

"𝙽𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔."

"𝙽𝚊𝚑, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚒."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚊𝚌𝚊-𝚔𝚊𝚌𝚊.

𝙻𝚊𝚐𝚒.

𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚔 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚜.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒 𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚋𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚑.

𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐, 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚗.

𝚂𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢.

𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗.

𝙳𝚞𝚍𝚞𝚔 𝚍𝚒 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚒.

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚞𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚓𝚊.

𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝙻𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚝.

𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚠𝚒 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑.

𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚞 𝚊𝚙𝚊-𝚊𝚙𝚊.

𝚂𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚓𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊, 𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚞𝚖.

"𝙷𝚊𝚒, 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎."

"𝙷𝚊𝚒."

"𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚔."

𝚂𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚔-𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚔 𝚜𝚊𝚓𝚊."

"𝚂𝚢𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚑."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞𝚔.

𝙻𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒.

𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚒 𝚒𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚢𝚊."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚒.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗.

"𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊?"

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚞."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚝𝚞 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚊—

𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛-𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚑𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚞𝚖𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚑 𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊.

𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚔𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒.

𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚞𝚑.

"𝙱𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚢𝚊."

𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋𝚔𝚞.

"𝙸𝚢𝚊."

𝙸𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚔.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗."

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚜.

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚞𝚕𝚞𝚑.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊

𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛-𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝚔𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚙𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝚊𝚙𝚊-𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚊𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚞𝚑

𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚞.

𝙲𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚝.

𝚂𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚑.

𝙳𝚞𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚓𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚒 𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚔𝚊𝚌𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚜.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚔𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚛.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊-𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊.

𝙻𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖.

𝙻𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒.

𝚂𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚒, 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚍𝚞𝚍𝚞𝚔 𝚍𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚔𝚘𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚖.

𝚁𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚞.

𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚒 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚞𝚔𝚊.

𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚔.

𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚍𝚞𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚒.

𝙸𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚔𝚞.

𝚃𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚔.

𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚑.

"𝚁𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚔𝚜𝚖𝚞 𝚓𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚔."

𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊.

"𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊 𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚑."

"𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚊-𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚒.

"𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒?"

"𝚃𝚊𝚍𝚒 𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚞."

"𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊?"

𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚍𝚞𝚍𝚞𝚔 𝚍𝚒 𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚓𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚗.

𝙺𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚔𝚞.

𝙻𝚊𝚖𝚊.

𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚊.

"𝙰𝚙𝚊?"

𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚞.

"𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚔."

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚊𝚗.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚊𝚗.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚜.

"𝚂𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚝."

"𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐."

"𝚂𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚝."

"𝙽𝚊𝚑."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚒.

𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚖.

𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖.

𝙺𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚒 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙳𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚜𝚊.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚔.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗.

𝙳𝚒𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚊𝚍𝚊.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚑𝚗𝚢𝚊

𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚌𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚙.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚔𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒."

𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚞𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚕.

"𝙺𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚐𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊?"

"𝙺𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒 𝚗𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚑 𝚍𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗."

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚒𝚗

𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚔𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙿𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚊.

𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝙹𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚝.

𝙹𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚊.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚋𝚊-𝚝𝚒𝚋𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚞.

𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙻𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗.

𝙻𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚔𝚎 𝚔𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚞.

"𝙰𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚙𝚊?"

𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚔.

"𝙽𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚞."

𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚍.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚔 𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗

𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊.

𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒 𝚍𝚒 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗.

𝚆𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚑𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚑.

𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚑 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑.

𝙳𝚒 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢𝚊

𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢.

𝚂𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚜.

𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚓𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚜.

𝙺𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚔.

𝙱𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚔.

𝙱𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚒𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚝.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚔.

𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚔.

"𝙰𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚙𝚊?"

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚜 𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗.

𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚑.

"𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎."

𝚂𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚛.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚝.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑.

"𝙳𝚒𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒."

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢.

𝙰𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚛 𝚍𝚒 𝚙𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚞 𝚓𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗..."

𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚑.

"𝙹𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝙷𝙾𝙽𝙶!"

𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚔 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊.

𝙺𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚑.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚋𝚒𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚔.

"𝚂𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚛."

𝚂𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚕.

𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊.

𝙸𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚗.

𝚃𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚖.

𝙺𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚒 𝚓𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗.

𝙺𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚊 𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚔𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛-𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚛.

"𝙰𝚙𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚒?"

𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚔 𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚜.

𝙻𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒."

"𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚙𝚊?"

"𝙳𝚒𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚔 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚞 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚗𝚢𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗."

𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚔𝚞.

𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐.

"𝙸𝚝𝚞 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛."

"𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐!"

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚞!"

"𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐!"

𝙺𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚒 𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚑.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚑

𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚐𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚒.

𝚂𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚐.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊."

𝚂𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚊 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚑.

𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚠𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒 𝚍𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚊.

𝙻𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚓𝚞.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊."

𝙺𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒.

𝙺𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚑.

𝙱𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑.

𝚆𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚑-𝚠𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚑 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚔𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚗.

𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊—

𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚔.

"𝚃𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞."

𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚍.

"𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚙?"

"𝙸𝚢𝚊."

"𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊."

"𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛."

"𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚛-𝚙𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚛..."

𝚂𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚑.

𝙲𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚞

𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚝.

𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗-𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙷𝚊𝚕-𝚑𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚑 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚙 𝚔𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚗.

𝙲𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚔.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚊 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚛.

𝚆𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚑 𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚊𝚝.

𝙰𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚑 𝚊𝚍𝚊.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒 𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒 𝚌𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚙.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚊𝚗.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞..."

𝙸𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚛.

𝚃𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚓𝚊𝚞𝚑 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚍𝚞𝚍𝚞𝚔 𝚍𝚒 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚞𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚔𝚞.

𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚗.

𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗.

𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚐.

"𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚔."

"𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚊."

𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎.

"𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚊."

𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋𝚔𝚞.

"𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚊."

𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋 𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊.

𝙻𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚙.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚊

𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚠𝚊.

𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚓𝚊.

𝙼𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜.

𝙼𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊.

𝙼𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚊𝚔𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚒 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚜.

"𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚖."

𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎.

"𝙽𝚐𝚐𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚕."

𝚓𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚋 𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚝.

"𝚈𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗?"

"𝚈𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗."

"𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚞 𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚗𝚢𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗?"

"𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚢𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗."

"𝙴𝚑!"

𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞.

𝙽𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚝.

𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚝.

𝙰𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚕𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚊-𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚔𝚞𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖-𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚊 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚔𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞-𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞,

𝚋𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚒 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚑 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚑𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚞 𝚒𝚝𝚞.

𝙻𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝 𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒.

𝙺𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚔 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚑.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐—

𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚞.

𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙼𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚢𝚊.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚔.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚖.

𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚑 𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚒.

𝚂𝚊𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚙, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗.

𝙰𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚙 𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚞𝚑𝚊𝚗.

𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗.

𝙺𝚘𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

𝙿𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚊.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚐.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚔𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚖 𝚔𝚞𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚑𝚞𝚒.

𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚒 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒 𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚙.

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚊.

𝙱𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚗.

𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚕.

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚞𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚔 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚔𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚊𝚑.

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚒𝚗

𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚑 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚔𝚞𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚑𝚔𝚊𝚗.

(𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝟹 — 𝙱𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚑𝚒𝚛)