[ Flynn collapses like a puppet with its strings cut: all at once, limbs folding in on themselves as chains whip, rattling, up against the ceiling, crash into the stone, and then fall down through the loop on top of him. He barely manages to shove his elbow and a knee into the greasy stone floor to get out of the way of the mess, and they still slap him as they fall, making him wince.
But it doesn't matter. Yuri is bleeding, collapsed first, and Flynn has to get to him. He pushes himself up, still attached to the chains, and half-crawls over to him with worry like coals in his belly. ]
[ Yuri's knees are probably bruised, but at least he isn't chained up before. Even all the times he's been in prison, being shackled isn't familiar. He really hates it, hates not being able to use his hands. Being locked up, sure, but that?
He pushes himself up, moving toward Flynn, and catching his hands as he moves ]
Hey, hey. I'm fine. Worry about yourself. We need to get you out of these.
[ He doesn't let himself think about that fear in Flynn's voice, the concern toward Yuri, always the concern that Yuri doesn't want, that he wonders if it's gotten worse since they started... whatever they're doing.
The blood frosted over on his thumb, and he brushes the frost away, letting the blood flow again, pressing it into the locks on each of Flynn's wrists. He waits, holding Flynn's hands in his, until the mechanisms crack, and the shackles are loose enough to fall off Flynn's wrists.
He glances up at Flynn's face, then, with a little grin. ]
[ Flynn wants Yuri not to be bleeding everywhere. He wants Yuri to stop using his blood like a tool except it's the only tool they have, so he can't complain about it. He needs to buck up and get his knees under him and think and not rely on Yuri and his ice-blood to get them out.
Yuri grinning defiantly at him like that both steels his resolve and lights something inside him. Nodding, Flynn pushes himself to his knees, making small circles with his wrists to restore blood to his numb fingers. The floor is cold and hard, and around them distant machinery creaks. ]
This reminds me of Ghasfarost. That can't mean anything good, especially if neither of us know how we got here.
[ There is still the matter of the stall door to deal with, too. Flynn twists around as the tips of his fingers tingle, rolling his shoulders as he does, to look at the door. ]
How are you feeling, Yuri? I don't want to use your blood any more than we have to.
[ Flynn doesn't dignify that with anything except a pointed look. Yuri knows damn good and well that Flynn can't pick locks, which means that once again Flynn has to rely on Yuri doing the thing that hurts him to get them out of something dire.
He is so tired of not being good enough to save them both on his own.
But dwelling won't get them out of here and it won't stop Yuri having to literally give up his own blood to do it. Flynn rests his aching fingers in Yuri's palm and lets himself, in a moment of weakness, just squeeze his hand, feeling the reassuring solid coolness of his fingers.
Then he realizes that probably hurts and takes his weight off it entirely, pushing himself up on shaky feet, swaying close to Yuri. Flynn wants to hug him, wants to press his face into Yuri's throat and tell him to please just let Flynn help, somehow, but there is nothing he can do and the knowledge is acid in his lungs. ]
[ Yuri lets him pull away, even if he can read some of what's going on in Flynn's head when he does. He knows Flynn is annoyed at himself, he can see it in his face. ]
Looks like a door.
[ With a lock. At least the ice trick works, or he has no idea how they would get out of here.
He picks the ice off his thumb again, crouching down by the door. At least he can't see anyone outside the bars. It's like they're alone here. As he presses more blood into the keyhole: ]
So, they lock us up here and leave us alone. Bets on why?
[ The answer comes too quickly, and Flynn hates that, too. His voice goes dull as he falls in beside Yuri, pressed close enough to the door that he'll hopefully be able to hear if anyone is outside, likely to catch them mid-escape attempt. ]
Cumore used this technique often when he wanted something from a prisoner. I heard him speaking about it in Heliord once. It's likely we're being held for some greater reason.
[ Just hearing the name "Cumore" makes anger surge through his body, and he jams his thumb harder into the keyhole ]
Of fucking course he did. Fine, so they want something from us. Pretty sure we don't have anything valuable
[ On them or in their home. They don't even have information, unless someone's really interested in their home world, which he can't see why. No one has been.
His blood freezes in the lock, and a long moment later, the lock cracks open, and Yuri throws himself bodily at the door. It doesn't want to let go, but with some effort, it does. ]
Jokes on them.
[ Except. He has no idea where to go now. It's sterile and metal and Flynn's right, it reminds him a lot of Ghasfarost, which was a maze of its own with all those floors and stairs. ]
[ Flynn reaches out, grabs at Yuri's shoulder to keep him still. They're both in horrible jumpsuits and weaponless, but Flynn can at least do this: move in front of him, clear the awful high-ceilinged hallway thick with the smell of oil and the copper stench of old blood. Now that they're out here, it reminds him more of Heracles, alive with the bone-rattling hum of distant machinery.
Something drips away behind them. Flynn breathes shallowly through his mouth, scanning every corner for movement.
There's nothing.
They're alone, except for a row of other doors, all hanging open. Suspicion and fear dart under Flynn's skin, prickling at his neck. Down at the end of the hallway they're in are some metal stairs ascending into warm darkness. ]
We need to move quietly. Whoever brought us here clearly didn't want us leaving on our own. Follow me.
[ More orders. Yuri grits his teeth, moving with Flynn as he steps slowly down the hall. He keeps his eyes on Flynn even though he should probably be looking where they're going ]
I'm not one of your knights, Flynn.
[ It's snapped out, low and annoyed. Even in danger like this, when they should be working together, on the same side, Flynn can still piss him off without really trying ]
[ Flynn's teeth clench, but before he can say anything, something clanks, low and ominous, and he freezes, pressing himself against the wall with his heart hammering. A jerk of his hand signals for Yuri to do the same thing. They wait there in breathless silence, listening, but the sound doesn't come again.
No one. Still alone. Flynn lets out a breath and half-turns to Yuri. ]
We're unarmed and at a severe disadvantage. Would you trust me for once?
[ Yuri huffs in annoyance, glaring at Flynn. He shoves the hand away, even though he had instinctively followed Flynn's order when he motioned for him to wait. Now that the coast is clear, though: ]
[ Flynn shoots him a look, trying to hide his own frustration. Now is not the time to argue with Yuri, even if he's doing the same thing he's been doing for years now, assuming the worst of every one of Flynn's actions. What is it that Flynn is doing wrong? He could be more polite, he supposes, but Yuri hates when he does that too. ]
Yuri, if I were giving you orders, you would know. Now isn't the time. We need to focus.
[ Even with that, Flynn, ever the good soldier, just falls in line with frustration and fear prickling hotly along his spine. It isn't Yuri's fault, entirely. Flynn is afraid and he learned long ago to swallow his fear or use it as fuel. His frustration is a thing with teeth in his chest, hooking claws into his lungs.
This whole place is deserted. Flynn is afraid to breathe too loudly for fear of alerting someone to their presence. They need to find weapons, and then they need to figure out if anyone else has been captured (the odds of that are very high), and then they need to get free.
The air is thick with the oddly-familiar smell of old, rotting things in a way that makes Flynn's stomach turn. He follows Yuri in tense silence for a few moments, his head like a searchlight, constantly moving to spot any signs of danger, and then it ]
The smell. It's like Ragou's.
[ That's what has him so on-edge, that's what has him imagining that sneering noble voice taunting Flynn about his own powerlessness. ]
[ It occurred to Yuri, too, the memories coming back and making him clench his wrist. He feels so weird, off, without a sword, without his knuckle guard, in these weird clothes. He feels like a science experiment, and he hates it. He hates it, and he hates that Flynn is here, and he has to help get Flynn out, no matter what. The world needs Flynn, this world, or their own.
He doesn't respond, not verbally. He nods shortly and moves further into the place. There are more rooms, all full of cells like the one they woke up in, but all are empty. He has to wonder if everyone else just got out before them, or...
He spots something else, a set of stairs, and lets out a breath, pointing to them. Not talking does feel safer, and he can still hear Flynn's breath, his footsteps, to show him that Flynn is near ]
[ Nodding shortly—as clear an understood as if he'd actually said it aloud—Flynn falls into step behind Yuri, checking over his shoulder as they hurry toward the staircase.
They're still not being followed, but before they can reach the staircase, a door they pass hisses open in a cloud of mechanical steam, and Flynn is yanking Yuri out of the way before he can even think about it, gritting his teeth as he prepares for a fight that does not come. Something drips down from above, heavy and warm, and plops onto Flynn's shoulder. It runs redly through his pale hair: blood, or oil, or both. ]
[ As soon as he sees that door move, he's on edge, too, falling into a fighting stance in front of Flynn, but--
No one's there. It's an automatic door, opening to a room full of stuff, some of which looks useful. He lets out a breath, glancing back at Flynn only to frown ]
You got--
[ He reaches out to brush whatever it is off of Flynn, but his fingers come away red. He stares at them, then looks up where it dripped from and fear drops like a stone in his gut.
It's blood.
He grabs Flynn's wrist, pulling him into the room. The doors shut behind them. ]
[ That tone is never a good thing, sends a matching fear skittering along under Flynn's skin even as the door slides shut. This room is full of what looks to Flynn's eye like farming equipment: saws, hammers, a whole rack of wrenches. Flynn forgets whatever was on his head for a moment, even if it's dripping down along his neck now.
He lets go of Yuri to cross over to the rack. A saw feels too... Flynn can't fight with that. After a long moment of consideration, he picks up a solid, hefty wrench, and then grabs another to offer it to Yuri. ]
[ Well if Flynn doesn't want to think about it, Yuri doesn't either. He wipes the blood on his shirt, and takes the offered wrench, hefting it in his hand. ]
Alright. So we find our way out, smashing a few heads if we have to.
[ He looks up at Flynn, meeting his eyes for a moment, and he wonders what's going on in his head. He wonders, too, at the fierce protectiveness welling up in him. Yeah, he's always wanted to protect Flynn, as much as Flynn wants to protect him. But if either of them are going to get out of here, it's Flynn. If there's a choice, he's going to choose Flynn. ]
[ Flynn winces at the implication, frowning down at the wrench in his own hand. His fingers are smeared with reddish-black. It really can't be anything but blood, can it?
No wonder it smells like that awful basement haunted by death and monsters. ]
Let's try to avoid any unnecessary death. I don't think this place needs any more blood.
[ He tries to keep his voice steady, but it comes out sharp-edged, tinged with fear and anger. Who would build something like this? What is its purpose, and what would have happened to them if they hadn't gotten free? The metal under Flynn's feet is oddly warm, and he hates that he can feel it, that his feet are bare. It's such a tiny, stupid thing to fixate on but suddenly Flynn can't think about anything else. He misses his armor. His misses his sword and Daisy and Repede. ]
[ Yuri sees him starting to spiral and reaches out, a hand heavy on Flynn's shoulder. ]
Hey. Look at me.
[ He squeezes tight, until Flynn does look at him ]
We're gonna get out of here. With you and me? No one stands a chance. Even, yeah, if we don't kill them. No one said that you had to kill someone when you hit them on the head.
[ It's a joke, sort of. An attempt to pull Flynn out of his head, so they can focus and get this done. ]
[ How does Yuri always know...? Flynn should know better, should be focusing on their situation and not letting himself worry like this. He sets his own jaw, pulling himself back, letting Yuri anchor him in the present.
What would he do without Yuri? ]
Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... We should go. That blood has to be coming from somewhere.
[ Yuri shakes his head with a small smile, letting his hand drop. ]
Nothing to be sorry for. C'mon, let's find out.
[ Not that he really wants to know, but he has to, now. He has to know what's causing this, why they're here, what happened to all the other Sleepers. They can't be the only two here ]
[ There is a lot to be sorry for, Flynn thinks, but Yuri is right: they have to focus on the facts, and the facts are... horrifying and don't fit together.
Flynn checks the hallway one more time before they re-enter, sticking close to Yuri with the wrench held tight in his hands. ]
This doesn't make sense. We're held captive, but without guards, which suggests they don't think there's much of a chance we can escape. Or that it doesn't matter if we do. There's machinery all around us and the tools to maintain it, but there's blood in the air.
[ Flynn keeps his voice down, a low, urgent whisper as they walk. He'd thought laying out the facts as he did for himself after Nordopolica would help, but there's something Flynn's missing, and the knowledge is prickling at him. There's another piece to all this. It has to be a bad one. ]
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[ Flynn collapses like a puppet with its strings cut: all at once, limbs folding in on themselves as chains whip, rattling, up against the ceiling, crash into the stone, and then fall down through the loop on top of him. He barely manages to shove his elbow and a knee into the greasy stone floor to get out of the way of the mess, and they still slap him as they fall, making him wince.
But it doesn't matter. Yuri is bleeding, collapsed first, and Flynn has to get to him. He pushes himself up, still attached to the chains, and half-crawls over to him with worry like coals in his belly. ]
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He pushes himself up, moving toward Flynn, and catching his hands as he moves ]
Hey, hey. I'm fine. Worry about yourself. We need to get you out of these.
[ He doesn't let himself think about that fear in Flynn's voice, the concern toward Yuri, always the concern that Yuri doesn't want, that he wonders if it's gotten worse since they started... whatever they're doing.
The blood frosted over on his thumb, and he brushes the frost away, letting the blood flow again, pressing it into the locks on each of Flynn's wrists. He waits, holding Flynn's hands in his, until the mechanisms crack, and the shackles are loose enough to fall off Flynn's wrists.
He glances up at Flynn's face, then, with a little grin. ]
Not so bad. Wanna get the hell out of here?
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[ Flynn wants Yuri not to be bleeding everywhere. He wants Yuri to stop using his blood like a tool except it's the only tool they have, so he can't complain about it. He needs to buck up and get his knees under him and think and not rely on Yuri and his ice-blood to get them out.
Yuri grinning defiantly at him like that both steels his resolve and lights something inside him. Nodding, Flynn pushes himself to his knees, making small circles with his wrists to restore blood to his numb fingers. The floor is cold and hard, and around them distant machinery creaks. ]
This reminds me of Ghasfarost. That can't mean anything good, especially if neither of us know how we got here.
[ There is still the matter of the stall door to deal with, too. Flynn twists around as the tips of his fingers tingle, rolling his shoulders as he does, to look at the door. ]
How are you feeling, Yuri? I don't want to use your blood any more than we have to.
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It's my own damn blood.
[ So he'll do what he wants with it.
But Flynn's not wrong. Yuri pushes himself up and holds out a hand for Flynn to heft him up off the ground. ]
Pretty sure I have to use it again unless you learned to pick locks.
[ Which he would never do. Because he's Flynn, and Flynn follows the rules, and locks aren't meant to be picked. ]
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He is so tired of not being good enough to save them both on his own.
But dwelling won't get them out of here and it won't stop Yuri having to literally give up his own blood to do it. Flynn rests his aching fingers in Yuri's palm and lets himself, in a moment of weakness, just squeeze his hand, feeling the reassuring solid coolness of his fingers.
Then he realizes that probably hurts and takes his weight off it entirely, pushing himself up on shaky feet, swaying close to Yuri. Flynn wants to hug him, wants to press his face into Yuri's throat and tell him to please just let Flynn help, somehow, but there is nothing he can do and the knowledge is acid in his lungs. ]
Let's see what we're up against first.
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Looks like a door.
[ With a lock. At least the ice trick works, or he has no idea how they would get out of here.
He picks the ice off his thumb again, crouching down by the door. At least he can't see anyone outside the bars. It's like they're alone here. As he presses more blood into the keyhole: ]
So, they lock us up here and leave us alone. Bets on why?
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[ The answer comes too quickly, and Flynn hates that, too. His voice goes dull as he falls in beside Yuri, pressed close enough to the door that he'll hopefully be able to hear if anyone is outside, likely to catch them mid-escape attempt. ]
Cumore used this technique often when he wanted something from a prisoner. I heard him speaking about it in Heliord once. It's likely we're being held for some greater reason.
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Of fucking course he did. Fine, so they want something from us. Pretty sure we don't have anything valuable
[ On them or in their home. They don't even have information, unless someone's really interested in their home world, which he can't see why. No one has been.
His blood freezes in the lock, and a long moment later, the lock cracks open, and Yuri throws himself bodily at the door. It doesn't want to let go, but with some effort, it does. ]
Jokes on them.
[ Except. He has no idea where to go now. It's sterile and metal and Flynn's right, it reminds him a lot of Ghasfarost, which was a maze of its own with all those floors and stairs. ]
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[ Flynn reaches out, grabs at Yuri's shoulder to keep him still. They're both in horrible jumpsuits and weaponless, but Flynn can at least do this: move in front of him, clear the awful high-ceilinged hallway thick with the smell of oil and the copper stench of old blood. Now that they're out here, it reminds him more of Heracles, alive with the bone-rattling hum of distant machinery.
Something drips away behind them. Flynn breathes shallowly through his mouth, scanning every corner for movement.
There's nothing.
They're alone, except for a row of other doors, all hanging open. Suspicion and fear dart under Flynn's skin, prickling at his neck. Down at the end of the hallway they're in are some metal stairs ascending into warm darkness. ]
We need to move quietly. Whoever brought us here clearly didn't want us leaving on our own. Follow me.
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I'm not one of your knights, Flynn.
[ It's snapped out, low and annoyed. Even in danger like this, when they should be working together, on the same side, Flynn can still piss him off without really trying ]
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No one. Still alone. Flynn lets out a breath and half-turns to Yuri. ]
We're unarmed and at a severe disadvantage. Would you trust me for once?
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[ Yuri huffs in annoyance, glaring at Flynn. He shoves the hand away, even though he had instinctively followed Flynn's order when he motioned for him to wait. Now that the coast is clear, though: ]
I trust you. Just stop ordering me around.
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Yuri, if I were giving you orders, you would know. Now isn't the time. We need to focus.
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He waves a hand, shaking his head, and follows along a step behind Flynn ]
Get behind me. I'm better without a sword. [ "Than you are" goes unsaid ]
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[ Even with that, Flynn, ever the good soldier, just falls in line with frustration and fear prickling hotly along his spine. It isn't Yuri's fault, entirely. Flynn is afraid and he learned long ago to swallow his fear or use it as fuel. His frustration is a thing with teeth in his chest, hooking claws into his lungs.
This whole place is deserted. Flynn is afraid to breathe too loudly for fear of alerting someone to their presence. They need to find weapons, and then they need to figure out if anyone else has been captured (the odds of that are very high), and then they need to get free.
The air is thick with the oddly-familiar smell of old, rotting things in a way that makes Flynn's stomach turn. He follows Yuri in tense silence for a few moments, his head like a searchlight, constantly moving to spot any signs of danger, and then it ]
The smell. It's like Ragou's.
[ That's what has him so on-edge, that's what has him imagining that sneering noble voice taunting Flynn about his own powerlessness. ]
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He doesn't respond, not verbally. He nods shortly and moves further into the place. There are more rooms, all full of cells like the one they woke up in, but all are empty. He has to wonder if everyone else just got out before them, or...
He spots something else, a set of stairs, and lets out a breath, pointing to them. Not talking does feel safer, and he can still hear Flynn's breath, his footsteps, to show him that Flynn is near ]
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They're still not being followed, but before they can reach the staircase, a door they pass hisses open in a cloud of mechanical steam, and Flynn is yanking Yuri out of the way before he can even think about it, gritting his teeth as he prepares for a fight that does not come. Something drips down from above, heavy and warm, and plops onto Flynn's shoulder. It runs redly through his pale hair: blood, or oil, or both. ]
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No one's there. It's an automatic door, opening to a room full of stuff, some of which looks useful. He lets out a breath, glancing back at Flynn only to frown ]
You got--
[ He reaches out to brush whatever it is off of Flynn, but his fingers come away red. He stares at them, then looks up where it dripped from and fear drops like a stone in his gut.
It's blood.
He grabs Flynn's wrist, pulling him into the room. The doors shut behind them. ]
Shit. What kind of messed up place is this!?
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[ That tone is never a good thing, sends a matching fear skittering along under Flynn's skin even as the door slides shut. This room is full of what looks to Flynn's eye like farming equipment: saws, hammers, a whole rack of wrenches. Flynn forgets whatever was on his head for a moment, even if it's dripping down along his neck now.
He lets go of Yuri to cross over to the rack. A saw feels too... Flynn can't fight with that. After a long moment of consideration, he picks up a solid, hefty wrench, and then grabs another to offer it to Yuri. ]
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Alright. So we find our way out, smashing a few heads if we have to.
[ He looks up at Flynn, meeting his eyes for a moment, and he wonders what's going on in his head. He wonders, too, at the fierce protectiveness welling up in him. Yeah, he's always wanted to protect Flynn, as much as Flynn wants to protect him. But if either of them are going to get out of here, it's Flynn. If there's a choice, he's going to choose Flynn. ]
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No wonder it smells like that awful basement haunted by death and monsters. ]
Let's try to avoid any unnecessary death. I don't think this place needs any more blood.
[ He tries to keep his voice steady, but it comes out sharp-edged, tinged with fear and anger. Who would build something like this? What is its purpose, and what would have happened to them if they hadn't gotten free? The metal under Flynn's feet is oddly warm, and he hates that he can feel it, that his feet are bare. It's such a tiny, stupid thing to fixate on but suddenly Flynn can't think about anything else. He misses his armor. His misses his sword and Daisy and Repede. ]
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Hey. Look at me.
[ He squeezes tight, until Flynn does look at him ]
We're gonna get out of here. With you and me? No one stands a chance. Even, yeah, if we don't kill them. No one said that you had to kill someone when you hit them on the head.
[ It's a joke, sort of. An attempt to pull Flynn out of his head, so they can focus and get this done. ]
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What would he do without Yuri? ]
Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... We should go. That blood has to be coming from somewhere.
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Nothing to be sorry for. C'mon, let's find out.
[ Not that he really wants to know, but he has to, now. He has to know what's causing this, why they're here, what happened to all the other Sleepers. They can't be the only two here ]
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[ There is a lot to be sorry for, Flynn thinks, but Yuri is right: they have to focus on the facts, and the facts are... horrifying and don't fit together.
Flynn checks the hallway one more time before they re-enter, sticking close to Yuri with the wrench held tight in his hands. ]
This doesn't make sense. We're held captive, but without guards, which suggests they don't think there's much of a chance we can escape. Or that it doesn't matter if we do. There's machinery all around us and the tools to maintain it, but there's blood in the air.
[ Flynn keeps his voice down, a low, urgent whisper as they walk. He'd thought laying out the facts as he did for himself after Nordopolica would help, but there's something Flynn's missing, and the knowledge is prickling at him. There's another piece to all this. It has to be a bad one. ]
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