For a moment after the android administrator's announcement, the entire gathering went utterly still. One could've heard a feather hit the ground as everyone processed what they'd just heard.
Ownership of Nevaramis.
A legendary floating island with technology beyond this era and magic craved by the greatest of magic scholars. It was an offer so outrageous, so beyond what anyone had expected, that we all needed a second to believe it was real.
And then that second passed.
The crowd erupted into chaos. Students clumped together, their faces a mix of terror and excitement. They whispered urgently to each other, occasionally stealing glances at the empty spaces where their professors had stood minutes before. I noticed the first-years particularly looked like lost sheep, huddling close with wide eyes.
"Did she say 'ownership'? Like, the whole island?" someone shouted.
"This has to be a trap!" someone else added. It looked like they’d break down at any moment under the pressure of different emotions. Only after the fourth-year students decided to do their professor’s work did the students begin to calm down. My sister happened to be one of them.
In contrast, the mercenaries and adventurers who remained had broken into grins that promised violence. They sized each other up, mentally crossing off the weaker competition. A few were already fingering their weapons, their postures shifting into something more predatory.
I remained still, letting my Demonic Sphere expand outward, cataloging potential threats and allies. Victor Seraph stood with a small group of his lackeys, his face calculating as he surveyed the remaining contestants, his impressive leadership skills coming in handy as he calmed down everyone.
Prince Orion looked equally ambitious, though he kept glancing toward where Nebula stood, gauging her reaction. That irritated me a little, but I maintained my composure behind my mask.
"Alright, from what I know," Solara began, her voice low and excited. Nevaramis was supposedly built by the Architects, a civilization that existed around the first recorded history. For reference, that’s not the start of the world. Some believe the world ended a few times before, erasing all history. I’ve got no proof, especially since my grandfather told me these as childhood stories…”
“It’s alright, tell me more,” Lilian said, and Solara continued.
“Well, this city was created somewhere in that erased history, as in before our current world began. Anyway, the Architects created the floating island as their magnum opus, a perfect blend of technology and magic that could sustain itself indefinitely."
She paused, gesturing at the impossible structures around us. "There are myths that Nevaramis contains libraries with forgotten knowledge, vaults of magical artifacts, and even chambers where the laws of reality can be rewritten. I’m sure much of that is just exaggerated rumors, but rumors often hold some truth in them. If such a city comes under our control, then... wow, that'd be insane."
"We could have our own nation," Lilian whispered, her ruby eyes wide beneath her mask. “A safe haven for the cult—err, sect that no one could touch."
I nodded, the possibilities expanding in my mind. "Not just a safe haven," I murmured. "A power base—a place to build something that could stand against the coming darkness. We need this."
The android raised her translucent arms once more, her voice cutting through the growing commotion. "Silence, please."
The chatter died down immediately, all eyes returning to her glowing form.
"This city is the legacy of a lost civilization that valued strength, wisdom, and survival above all," she continued, her voice resonating across the water. "To claim Nevaramis, you must survive and conquer the Gauntlet of Echoes."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd again, but the android continued unperturbed.
"The Gauntlet of Echoes is a multi-phase challenge designed to identify worthy inheritors of this realm. It will gradually filter competitors through a series of trials."
Oh, I thought it was a gauntlet for real. I wondered as I continued observing her. With a graceful snap of her fingers, dozens of portal gates materialized around the landing field. Each gate was a perfect arch of light, varying in color—red, blue, green, purple, and more—their surfaces rippling like disturbed water.
"Allow me to talk about the first trial, then. These gates will transport you to separate yet identical copies of Nevaramis anywhere inside the building part of the city you see ahead. These copies are what we call 'echoes.' Each echo is a perfect magical replica of the city, though what you find within may differ."
The crowd stirred, some people already approaching the gates that appealed to them.
"The echoes are connected via special portals that open and close at set intervals," the android explained. "Upon completing the initial challenges, you will be led to a reward chamber. There, you may choose to claim rewards cooperatively or... eliminate your competition and claim the rewards all for yourself."
Her face remained expressionless, but something in her tone suggested she expected the latter.
"Points will be earned through three key actions. First, completing challenges set by my extensions throughout the city. These trials will test your strength, intelligence, teamwork, and combat prowess. Second, defeating the powerful entities that roam the echoes. Such as wraiths, monsters, or even simulations. And third..." her gaze swept the crowd, "eliminating or disabling other competitors."
Tension filled the air, thick and heavy.
Somewhere in the crowd, laughter broke out—probably from those who relished the thought of combat. The android raised her hand for one final announcement.
"Each gate represents a different pathway through the Gauntlet. The colors represent a different type of challenge. It is up to you what you choose. Choose wisely, for your choice determines the nature of the challenges you will face. You have thirty minutes to select your gate. After that, the remaining gates will close, and those without a choice will be randomly assigned."
With that, she dissolved into motes of light, leaving us to our decisions.
"Purple," I said immediately to Solara and Lilian. "We're taking a purple gate."
"Why purple?" Lilian asked, eyeing the dozens of gates with suspicion. “We don’t even know which color means what. We should find a Mage who understands mana and its colors and discuss this first, no?”
"Nah, trust me on this,” I said. In the game, purple gates lead to mental challenges. It held riddles, puzzles, tests of wisdom. The crowd will soon realize that after talking among themselves and sharing magical knowledge about mana colors, but by then we will be finished inside. Most people will rush for the red and blue gates thinking they offer combat or magic-based challenges they can muscle through. But the purple path... I smiled behind my mask. "I already know the solutions. Mana Manipulation [Master], did you guys forget? I know these stuff."
“Hmm,” Lilian gave me a suspicious look.
Solara shrugged. "What about Nebula? How do we group with her? Maybe we should bring Ha-Yun too? It’d do us well to have a strong 6th Ascension whom we can trust."
I glanced over to where Ha-Yun stood with her friends. The Princess wasn’t friendless, even though she’d never brought any home besides us. She was already moving toward a green gate, her decision apparently made.
"Ha-Yun's beyond our reach now," I said, watching her golden robes disappear into the crowd. "But Nebula..." I scanned the remaining students and located her instantly, standing somewhat apart from the others, her crimson eyes already searching for me.
As our gazes met across the field, something unexpected happened.
"Iskandaar?" Nebula's voice echoed directly in my mind, startling me enough that I nearly took a step backward.
"...Nebula?" I thought back, unsure if she could hear me.
"Thank the Nightless Sky it worked," came her reply, tinged with relief. "I wasn't sure if the range would hold."
I blinked, genuinely impressed. "You learned telepathy? How?"
"It's not that impressive," her mental voice carried a hint of pride despite her words. "I can only communicate with people whose blood I've consumed, and even then, there's a time limit. But don't worry—given how much of yours I've drunk, we should be fine for days, maybe weeks."
I couldn't help but smile behind my mask. "Clever vampire. What's your plan now?"
"That depends on you, doesn't it?" Her mental tone was laced with a familiar dry humor. "Where are you heading? I feel like you have a plan that I don’t. Also, did Mother tell you…?"
"She didn’t. She told me to ask you about it before she was teleported away. And we’re taking the purple gate," I replied. "It leads to mental challenges rather than physical ones. Puzzles and stuff. Might be some mental tricks, too… Anyway, I know the solutions."
There was a pause before she responded. "You mean from your Murim life? Did that world also have a city like this?"
"Not exactly, but uh, there were similar challenges. Anyway, we’ll head in first. Follow us, but don't make it obvious. We don't want anyone connecting us."
"Of course." Through our connection, I sensed her slight amusement. "I'm not exactly eager to leak dark lord ‘Cheonma’s’ true identity. I'll take a purple gate shortly after you."
"Not you too," I sighed. Then I remembered the disorienting nature of some of the possible challenges awaiting in the purple echo. "By the way, when I spoke of mental tricks, I meant quite serious ones. Don't be surprised when you enter. You might meet strange questions in your head, trying to overwhelm you. Just know they're all tricks, they're not your own thoughts. You'll be fine if you keep that in mind."
"Alright." Her mental voice softened slightly. "Be careful, Iskandaar."
"Always am," I replied, though we both knew that wasn't entirely true.
Our connection faded, and I turned back to Lilian and Solara, who were watching me with curious expressions.
"Were you just staring into space?" Lilian asked, folding her arms. "We thought you'd frozen."
I shook my head with a small laugh. "Telepathic communication. Seems Nebula has more talents than I realized. She'll follow us through the purple gate."
Solara raised an eyebrow, visible even through her mask. "Impressive. She continues to surprise. I guess her mother didn’t lie about giving her training."
"She definitely didn’t," I agreed, then clapped my hands together softly. "Now, let's head to that purple gate quickly. The gates don’t have infinite slots."
As people around us made their choices—some rushing toward red gates with weapons drawn, others heading for the blue ones with spellbooks ready—we moved purposefully toward a purple gate standing relatively unattended at the edge of the field.
I cast one final look back at the crowd, at smaller chucks of the floating city that hung above us, at the destiny that awaited beyond the shimmering portal.
"Let's get started," I said to Lilian and Solara, a grin spreading across my face. The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was going to claim a flying island.
****
Nebula stepped through the shimmering purple portal minutes after Iskandaar and the two girls had disappeared through it.
The magical threshold felt like walking through cold silk—a momentary resistance before giving way entirely. She'd expected to emerge alongside them on the other side, perhaps in some grand chamber or ancient library.
Instead, absolute darkness swallowed her whole.
"Iskandaar?" she called, her voice tight with sudden anxiety. Only silence answered.
Her vampire eyes—perfectly adapted to darkness—struggled to adjust, finding nothing but void stretching in all directions. Even her heightened senses detected no heartbeats, no breathing, no movement.
The mental connection she'd established with Iskandaar had vanished too, leaving her mind eerily quiet. For someone who had spent her life carefully maintaining barriers between herself and others, the absence of his warmth felt strangely devastating.
"...Solara? Lilian?" she tried again, taking a cautious step forward. This time, her voice returned to her, twisted and elongated, as if the darkness itself was mocking her.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Liliaaan? Solaraaa?" the echo taunted in her own voice.
Nebula clenched her jaw, forcing down the flutter of panic in her chest.
This must be what Iskandaar mentioned. Weird. She was a Carlstein, a half-Obsidian Vampire. She'd survived years of her father’s training and her stepmother's political schemes. Now, her mother was training her too. This was just another test.
She told herself this was just a mental trick, that she was just seeing things. Slowly, the darkness gave way to a dim corridor that seemed to materialize around her. Ancient stones lined narrow walls that twisted forward into more shadows.
The faint illumination came from nowhere and everywhere at once.
"Alright," she muttered, squaring her shoulders. "Let's get this over with."
She moved forward cautiously, her boots making no sound against the stone floor. As she ventured deeper, translucent images began to form along the walls like mist, swirling and taking shape. She was startled the first few times, but they didn’t attack her.
Initially, they weren’t clear, but as she walked, they began to become clearer. The first clear vision solidified beside her, so realistic that she nearly gasped aloud.
However, the content of the vision made her freeze.
It was… Iskandaar and Lilian, locked in an intimate embrace. His fingers tangled in her silver hair as he whispered something in her ear, making her laugh. They looked perfectly matched—both vibrant and alive in ways Nebula knew she wasn't.
“What the…” she quickly shook her head, not caring to look for long. She’d slept with both of them together, it wasn’t something that bothered her now.
She tried to walk past it, but she froze when Lilian’s golden eyes flickered at her.
"Did you really think he'd settle for a monster?" Lilian's voice drifted from the vision, her eyes locked at her, though her lips didn't move. "A blood-sucking creature?"
Nebula froze, the words striking a chord she'd tried to ignore for months. It made her eyes tremble. How many times had she caught herself wondering the same thing? She’d wondered why someone like Iskandaar would choose her when he had warmer, more human options?
"Then again, I guess you deserve it," the vision continued cruelly. "You've just been using him too, haven't you? From the start. The grandson of Sikandar, who’s finally growing in power? You thought you'd hit the jackpot. Maybe he knows. Maybe that's why he goes to other women—why he comes to me—because he knows you don't love him."
"That's not true," Nebula hissed, clenching her fists. The accusation stung precisely because she'd once approached their engagement that way—as nothing but a political arrangement. But things had changed.
She forced herself to walk past the vision, but another materialized before her. This time, it was Iskandaar alone, his golden eyes cold and distant as he stared through her.
"The engagement was always just politics," his image said flatly. "You knew that." He chuckled, “Well, you told me that yourself the first time we met. Hey, at least you were honest.”
Nebula's heart clenched painfully. Really? Did he really think that? If it was politics she was far, then there were better options! The thought of Prince Orion, how persistently he'd pursued her since arriving at Waybound, crossed to her. How much easier her life would have been if she'd accepted his advances. How her stepmother Evelina would have fawned over such a prestigious match.
Instead, she'd chosen to honor her engagement to a boy she'd initially dismissed as weak, all because—because what?
Because somehow, against all reason, she'd grown to care for him.
How dare this stupid vision mock her that way? "Is this supposed to scare me?" she asked the empty corridor, her voice steadier than she felt.
Her mother's voice slithered through the darkness in response, "Trust no one fully, Nebula. Attachments weaken you. Love is just an illusion,” she’d said. “Look at your father.”
Munera's lessons had been drilled into her since childhood, through Mirella since she wasn’t present herself. Trust was a luxury that vampires couldn't afford. Survival depended on independence, on never needing anyone too much.
Mother wouldn’t say that. Stupid vision. She found it funny how silly these attempts were. She left Father, she pretended to be dead. She knows it’s not Father’s fault.
Plus, Iskandaar had offered her his blood freely. All by himself. He’d trusted her not to drain him dry when she was at her most vulnerable… No, he was ready to be drained dry if it meant she was satiated. He’d defended her against a Holy Knight who would have executed her simply for existing.
The visions shifted, growing more vivid, more horrific.
Iskandaar stood in a blood-soaked chamber, his hands dripping red as Solara and Lilian lay crumpled at his feet. His smile was cruel, unfamiliar. Nebula froze, watching the twisted Iskandaar laugh toward the ceiling, his voice was loud and skewed.
"Hah. Maybe he doesn't deserve your love, in the end," a disembodied voice whispered. "He's just using all of you to achieve whatever goal he has in his mind."
"No, that's impossible," Nebula muttered, though doubt tinged her voice. "He wouldn't hurt them." Why was she doubting it? Of course, he wouldn’t. Was this place messing with her brain in more ways than just vision?
Solara's illusion rose from the ground, eyes brimming with tears. "You knew he'd sacrifice us. You're just like him, selfish and heartless."
"That's not—"
Lilian's sneering face appeared next, cutting her off. "Of course, you didn’t know. Naive Solara thinks you did, but I know the truth. He never liked you, and he never will. You'll always be second-best. That's why he came to me even after he slept with you. Did you think he truly loved someone like you? You're just convenient."
Nebula stepped backward, the words hitting deeper than she wanted to admit.
Hadn't she wondered the same thing? Hadn't she questioned what she could possibly offer Iskandaar that Lilian or Solara couldn't provide in abundance?
Were… were these visions truly just her own thoughts being twisted? Maybe it was the thoughts and memories of the other people in the realm too. That could be the case. All these harsh words, maybe they weren’t just her imagination?
"...What am I doing?" she whispered, frustration building in her chest. "These are just illusions. They're not real."
But what if they were?
It sounded logical. Kind of…
"Hah. Of course, it makes sense, silly," the same disembodied voice whispered. "Didn’t you see how easily he gave up when your mother said she won’t let you go? Didn’t he tell you last night? He gave Solara a 9th Ascension Phoenix Essence. Did he ever do something like that for you? He didn’t. And he never would. That’s why he didn’t take you with him. He wishes you’d stop… BOTHERING… HIM!"
Nebula fell to her knees. Her shoulders trembled. It was getting too hard to control her body. Her head… her mind… was getting cloudy. Where was… where was she?
"Nebula, did you enter?"
Just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, a warm, familiar voice brushed against her mind. It was different from the mocking voices around her. Much different.
"Um, Earth to Nebula? Hah, I’m too funny sometimes."
Iskandaar's telepathic voice felt like a lifeline. She clutched at it desperately.
"I-Iskandaar? Is it really you?" she projected, still wary of tricks.
"Of course it's me. Let me guess—you're seeing horrible visions meant to break your spirit? Happened to me. Well, kind of. I just waved them away."
Relief flooded through her. "How did you do that?"
"Well, this is the trial of mental fortitude. The purple gate leads to tests of the mind, not the body,” his voice said. “I hoped we wouldn’t encounter this particular challenge, but my bad luck. Are you alright?”
Her breathing steadied, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "The visions... the voices… they're showing me things I fear. Things I don’t want to think. It’s telling met that you don't truly care for me, that I'm just..." She hesitated. "Hey, do you, uh…. Do you ever regret our engagement, Iska? Ever wish you were bound to someone... warmer?"
There was a pause, and for a moment, her heart sank.
Then his voice returned, gentle but firm.
"Nebula Carlstein, listen carefully. The greatest thing I appreciate in a girl is loyalty. I saw a glimpse of that on you that day during the Orientation dance. The Prince of the fucking Empire asked you for a dance, and I thought you’d accept. After all, in my head, you were only with me for political reasons. Guess what? You didn’t accept his offer. You told him you had a fiance. That you had me. And there I was, suddenly beside you and claiming what is mine.”
“....”
“When Prince Orion wanted you, you could have broken our engagement easily for him. You chose me. And so I chose you too. That’s why I risked the Holy Knight. Because you’re mine, and I’d destroy the world if it meant I could protect what is mine. Well,” he chuckled, and Nebula could imagine him rubbing the back of his head. “All this is a little corny to say considering I’m sleeping with others, but I mean every word of what I said. I do not regret a second of the time we’ve spent together.”
Nebula stared at the ground at his words, swallowing.
“The only thing I regret is not taking you to the Highlands with us, ugh it was so fun. I have to tell you the details fast. So… don't let these illusions make you doubt what we both know is real and come find me already. I’m waiting."
Memories surfaced in her mind: Iskandaar offering his throat to her without hesitation. His unwavering defense when the Holy Knight had threatened her. He lost an arm for her with a smile on his face, for it meant she was still alive. The way he'd remained by her side to keep her safe when Victor's lackeys had pursued them through Waybound's streets. The tenderness in his eyes when she'd awakened beside him after her transformation.
One memory stood out clearest.
His blood on her lips, freely given, as he'd whispered, "Have your feast," against her hair. He'd never treated her like a monster—not once.
Nebula squared her shoulders, anger replacing her doubt. "Whatever you are," she said to the visions still swirling around her, "you're not fooling me anymore."
In that instant, she sensed movement—something invisible shifting behind her. Pure instinct took over. Wings erupted from her back, fangs extended, and her eyes went blood-red in rage and power.
She spun, palm igniting with crimson energy as she slashed through the air.
Her attack connected with something solid yet unseen. A shrill, piercing cry echoed through the corridor as a twisted, ethereal form materialized where her magic had struck. The Wraith—for that's what it appeared to be—writhed in agony before dissolving into wisps of shadow.
Panting slightly, Nebula stood victorious, watching as the illusions around her evaporated like morning mist.
"Nice," she muttered, surveying the now-empty corridor. "Now I have to find them..."
She closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts toward Iskandaar. Their bond—forged through blood and trust—was her anchor now. She sensed his distant presence, steady and sure, somewhere ahead.
A faint smile touched her lips. "There he is.” Hang in there, you idiot. I'm coming.
She strode forward with renewed determination. Whatever other trials awaited in this bizarre place, she would face them to reach him. Not because she needed his protection or his blood, but because, somehow, this arrogant, powerful, ridiculous man had become essential to her in ways that had nothing to do with politics or survival.
And that, perhaps, was the most terrifying realization of all.
****
I leaned against the cold stone wall, watching Solara and Lilian as they sat on the floor, still catching their breath.
The purple gate's challenge hadn’t exactly been what I preferred, but it was within my expectation—illusions designed to break your spirit, to make you question everything you thought you knew.
For me, it had been almost disappointingly simple.
The visions had tried, of course. They'd shown me the Crippled Heaven version of myself, broken and alone, having failed to save everyone I cared about.
They vividly recalled my past life's failures—the accident that took my mobility and the years I wasted in darkness—and showed me terrible people who left me behind because I’d built those relationships on top of my success and wealth. The visions whispered that I was doomed to repeat those same mistakes and that no matter how powerful I became, I would still lose everything.
But honestly?
My willpower had been forged through seventeen playthroughs of one of the hardest games ever created, then tempered further through battles with demigods and vampiric fathers. Ah yes, and the additional memories of the Heavenly Demon, ruler of the world, also helped a little.
A few spooky visions didn't stand a chance.
That was exactly why I'd chosen the purple gate, even though I wished the challenges would be something else rather than mental assaults. Regardless, physical challenges were unpredictable, but mental ones? Against someone who knew they were coming? Child's play.
The girls, though, seemed to have had a rougher time. Their clothes were disheveled, and sweat glistened on their foreheads. Lilian's silver hair stuck to her face in damp strands, while Solara's normally perfect posture had given way to a tired slump.
"It really said," Solara huffed, brushing crimson strands from her eyes, "that you'll sacrifice me on an altar for power. Isn't that crazy?"
I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. "Hey, maybe I will."
Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "...Don't joke about it, please. I was scared."
I couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. "Relax. If I wanted power that badly, I'd be sacrificing Lilian first. She’s the Hero’s descendant among the three of us."
Lilian snorted, rolling her eyes. "What did your visions show?" I asked her, curious what had rattled my usually unflappable maid.
She shrugged, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. "Something silly. It showed me the reason why you allow me to feed on all those foods and sweets. Apparently, it is so that I get fat, and you get an excuse to throw me away."
Solara burst into laughter, and I couldn't help joining in. The idea was so absurd—Lilian with her werewolf metabolism could eat five times what a normal person could and never gain an ounce. What was the Wraith thinking, using such a cheap plotline?
"Oh no, your deepest fear is getting chubby," Solara teased, poking Lilian's perfectly flat stomach, those defined abs. "The horror!"
"Shut up!" Lilian swatted her hand away, her cheeks flushing. "It wasn't just that! There were other things too!"
"Like what?" Solara pressed, her grin widening. "Were you worried your tail would get too fluffy?"
"I said shut it, bird girl!" Lilian growled, her ruby eyes flashing dangerously.
Before their bickering could escalate, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. I straightened, my hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of my sword—then relaxing as a familiar figure appeared around the corner.
Nebula.
I'd already removed my mask, no longer needing the disguise in this isolated section of the trials. I smiled as she spotted us, ready with some witty greeting about her taking her time. “You-”
But the words died in my throat as she rushed directly toward me, throwing herself into my arms with unexpected force.
The hug was fierce, desperate even—much tighter than when we'd met last night. My body cracked under the pressure. I could feel her body trembling against mine, her fingers clutching the fabric of my robes as if afraid I might disappear.
I exchanged puzzled glances with Solara and Lilian over Nebula's shoulder. Both girls looked equally surprised by this uncharacteristic display from my normally composed fiancée.
"Hey," I said softly, wrapping my arms around her and pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. "Are you alright?" The telepathic conversation earlier, had I misjudged the seriousness of the situation?
She nodded against my chest, her grip loosening slightly. "I'm fine," she whispered, but her voice lacked its usual confidence.
Whatever she'd seen in those illusions must have cut deeper than she wanted to admit. I tightened my embrace, one hand moving to stroke her back soothingly. “I’m glad,” I said. “I missed your warmth.” I felt her relax at those words.
For someone who'd faced down Holy Knights and senior students wanting to be vampire hunters without flinching, she was surprisingly frail. Seeing her shaken like this made something protective flare inside me.
Slowly, she pulled back just enough to look up at me, her crimson eyes searching my face as if confirming I was really there. “I did too. Greatly, I missed you,” she said. “Not… not just your blood. You.” That made me smile.
Then, to my surprise, a small, genuine smile curved her lips—a rare, unguarded expression that transformed her face.
Before I could say anything more, she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to mine in a kiss that carried more emotion than words ever could.
I returned it with the same emotions.
Nebula appreciation chapter. I realyyyy hope you guys liked it. I always knew she’s a little less popular than the other girls, but only after Book 2 went to Amazon did I realize how less. Many complained about her, how she’s selfish, unlikeable, blah blah. I hope this will change how people look at her.
I’ll really appreciate your thoughts on this chapter, bad and good!
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