I Choose You.

He looked up as he heard the bell-like hooves. Three Heralds stood there in full Whites, laughing and chatting with each other, but he knew something was wrong. Two weren't in the right time maybe? Or maybe he was in the wrong time and the other one with them was in the wrong time? Whichever, there were two people out of their correct times, he decided, looking at the people. Their faces faded and changed into something else. Someone else. As he was watching, the one in the center became Savil. How Granger got that privilege he'd have to ask his subconscious later he decided. Weasley had, for some reason, changed into Kerowyn. Why a mercenary, and why a woman? Again, something to ask his subconscious when he gave it a good shove later. Then there was Potter, or should he say...Vanyel? That was just odd. "All right," he growled. "Enough of this shit!" The three Heralds looked down at him, smiling beautiful and unconcerned smiles.

As he watched, they changed a bit more. Potter went from the young Vanyel, the carefree but grieving one, to the careworn one, the one from after Lineas and Tashir. From after that family visit that turned out so badly. Almost exactly where he had stopped reading if he remembered right. Weasley changed, becoming...Talia? And Granger stayed Savil. This was getting too odd, especially for his mind. He looked down at himself and saw a color he had never dreamed of on himself. Scarlet. Full blown, all out, popinjay scarlet. "Well, fuck me," he sighed. "I'm a Bard?"

The Heralds burst out in laughter and it was Granger who stepped forward. "Of course you are, silly," she said, still very obviously herself and not Savil. "What else did you expect?" She was nosed out of the way by a stray Companion, who had appeared out of nowhere.

The companion stepped closer to Draco, looking him in the eyes. ::You are mine,:: he told him. ::You are Chosen.::

"Bloody fucking hell!" Draco whined. "I'm not like them!"

He seemed to laugh as she threw up his head. ::You are not chosen like that, young one, I will help you though. Together, we will tell the tales::

"Now I know this is a dream," he said defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest and starting to pout. "Why would I need you to help me and what tales am I telling?"

The companion's eyes seemed to shine. ::You will need me because I was once where you are now. You shall tell the tales so all know and fear him.::

Draco got a dark suspicion. Her seeming smile proved him right. "I don't think so. No one wants to read about goody-goodies."

He stepped closer, whuffling against his shirt. ::People only like reading about the bad ones when they're thirteen, cute, and Irish:: he pointed out gently. ::Write it as it happened. It is the excuse you need to break free from your father. We will help you make a new life for yourself. You will be free and I will be yours, Chosen. Come, we will ride for now.::

Draco whined but he couldn't resist climbing up on that broad back. They trotted off, his bells ringing merrily in the air as they moved through the crisp fog that blocked the road. "I still don't like this idea."

::Tough, deal with it. It's this or following Snape into service.::

"Then I like this idea a lot better," he admitted. "Where are we going?"

::Home. Unless you need more convincing. Up ahead is the crosspath. I could send you to F'Lar and J'xom."

"No, that's quite all right, thank you," he said quickly. "No dragons."

::Yes, dear one. Remember, I am always with you. We will do fine together,:: he soothed, right before he woke up panting in fear.

He looked around his room. "What the fuck?" he whispered, holding his forehead with the palm of one hand. "That's it, no more muggle fiction from Pansy's trunk. I can't take much more of that. But Potter did remind me of Vanyel." He looked at the book beside his bed and groaned as he picked it up. The characters were so lifelike that he was drawn into the story, like he was riding behind the tragic hero on his quest. Or in this case, sitting beside him while he played at that inn. This just sucked. He would have to have the book checked for magic. Maybe she wasn't a muggle? Or possibly she was just that good.

The new voice in the back of his laughed and told him she was simply that good, fully muggle, and she liked birds. He hit himself on the head with the book. "Go away."

"Draco?" Goyle asked, waking up to look at him.

"It's nothing, just an odd dream I can't shake," he said quietly. "Go back to sleep." Goyle nodded and laid back down, starting to snore loudly again a few moments later. Draco looked at his reflection in the mirror next to his bed. He didn't look any different, but now there were words streaming in his head. Books he had to find to get the spells so he knew everything. He firmly put them out of his mind and laid down to read. "Just don't be 'Fandes," he whispered. The voice laughed and told him her name was not Yfandes, it was Stefen. Back on special assignment no less. "Fuck me," he sighed. "Who is Stefen?" The voice's answer of 'keep reading' amused him enough and he was practically addicted to this series...

As long as he didn't end up in last month's books. He doubt he could take fighting Thread on dragon-back. That thought made him shudder worse than the thought that he might have been chosen to be a Herald.


The next afternoon, Draco was browsing the Potions books for a paper they had to do by the next class. He really was. He wasn't sure why he was in the Charms section, but he was browsing the Potions books, the ones that were on the other side of the library. One of the names from last night popped up and he found it in his hand. He sighed and found the rest, and the little voice in the back of his head helped him find his potions books. At least it was trying to be helpful. He sat down with the stack at the most out-of-the-way table he could, getting engrossed in the charms text first. There was a past viewing spell in there. All he needed was something of Potter's to use as a key. The next one had a scribe spell. He discarded that one immediately. If he *had* to write something, he would do it the normal way. The next was on something called 'electricity and it's uses'. Interesting, but why did he need this? The voice in the back of his head told him about a machine, which he looked up. "I think it's a bit big, dearheart," he whispered. Stefen showed him a smaller version, the more current version. "Okay then." He checked the other books, discarding one more, and went to check them out. On the way he ran into his mentor, Professor Snape. "Sir, is it wrong if you're having odd dreams and they follow you into your day?" he asked.

Snape looked down at him, then shrugged. "What sort of dreams, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Odd ones. Have you read any of Pansy's books on Valdemar?" He gave another negligent shrug. "For some reason, I keep seeing a Companion."

Snape gave one nod then took his books from him and steered him out of the library and up the stairs, depositing him in the infirmary. "He's being warped, just like his father when he had his break with reality," he told the nurse, just loud enough for Draco to hear.

"I have not!" he complained. "It's simply a dream that won't go away."

Snape looked at him. "Of a magical horse that chooses one for special duties in the service of the Crown?"

"I didn't say I was Monarch's Own," he said snidely. "I said I keep seeing a Companion in my head."

"Companion," Madam Pomfrey asked. Draco sighed and summoned his book. "Ah! I've heard of this one. She is an excellent writer. Anything on dragons?"

"No, I refused to go there," Draco pouted, glaring at Snape. "I'm not demented."

"No, you're not," he said in a way that clearly stated it was important that Draco still thought that about himself. "If you aren't better in a week, I shall have to write your father."

"Tell him a long rest in the Riviera would do me a world of good," Draco suggested smugly. "It's nearly the topless season there."

"We'll see." Snape walked out, going to clean Draco's space for him of all the books, and to warn Pansy to keep them to herself once again.

"Now you settle in. Would finishing that book be helpful or harmful to you?" Madam Pomfrey asked in her most soothing voice.

"That depends. The Companion's name is Stefen and I don't remember him."

"Ah. Finish that book, dear. That will explain it all to you, and I'll have some tissues near by."

"Malfoys do not cry," he said stiffly. She gave him that same 'it's important you believe that' look and walked off, bringing him back some water, some tissues, and a small plate of crackers. "I'm not nauseous. "

"I had a small reaction to some of the scenes. If you don't nibble, then I'll eat them later," she said a little too cheerfully as she went back to her desk.

He flicked his wand at the curtains and found his place. He quickly got lost in the story again, wondering what that whole deal with the node was about. He was glad this was the entire trilogy in one book a few hours later, he couldn't bear it if Pansy hadn't had the next one. About five hours after he had been brought up, he let out a wordless shriek of rage. "That's Stefen!"

"Yes, dear," Madam Pomfrey called. "It is. Keep going. You'll understand more soon. And remember, not all those in white are as good as they appear."

He grunted and flipped to his other side, going back to his story. This was getting more engrossing by the hour. In another hour he had pulled his first tissue and was sniffling quietly. He had also eaten a few of the crackers. This author was a bit graphic at times. He had about a hundred pages left. After the second tissue, he pulled over the box and set it against his stomach. Oh, his poor new mental projection! He paused at that thought. He wasn't going to call it a friend, it was all in his mind. But perhaps 'mental figment' wasn't the right word.

::You could call me by name.::

"Think that got me out of class?" he suggested drolly, but quietly so no one overheard him.

::That too,:: it admitted and sounded like it was having a good time. ::Take another tissue and finish the book. We'll move onto the Mage Wars series next. I think you'll like those gryphons better.::

"Bloody impertinent bard," he complained. "I'm not writing things down for you."

::Of course you're not,:: Stefen agreed, and even he sounded like he was doing it to make sure Draco knew it was important he thought that.

Draco grabbed another tissue and went back to the story. By the end, he had gone through most of the box. He incinerated the small pile of tissues so no one would know, and then laid there, calmly thinking.

::You could do that. You could write wonderful worlds that get people that engrossed. I'll help you get started,:: Stefen's voice whispered. ::All you have to do is write the story that I think will sell best.::

"You would know," he whispered. The voice giggled. "Fine. What do I have to do?"

::Study the book on electricity and get a computer,:: it whispered. ::Handwriting's painful. Of course, you could start out that way and then transfer it over, but that would take longer. Typing will take some getting used to for you, but your long fingers will appreciate the keyboard. Plus, it will annoy Harry to no end when the first one comes out.::


::First. One for each year,:: Stephan said calmly. ::You'll set up an identity and go from there. That way no one connects it to you. You'll be laughing at him and he won't even know why. Plus, the story will get out there. More children will read.::

"And Fantasia will be saved?" he snarked.

::Yup.:: Stephan's voice went quiet in his head.

Draco groaned. "Why me?" he asked the curtains. They opened and the nurse was standing there. "Why do I get things like this?"

"Like what?" she asked.

"The Companion wants me to start writing now."

"Well, you did pick a bard to personify and you can't sing," she said gently. He glared at her. "You can't. I've heard you, Mr. Malfoy. You sound like someone's hurting a cat." She took the book and tucked him in, giving him a soothing smile. "You rest some more. Do you need anything?"

"It said I'm supposed to get the Mage Wars series next if Pansy has it," he said dryly. "That I'd like the gryphons."

"You probably would," she agreed, giving him an extra pat on the arm. "She doesn't have two of those though, I talked with her a bit ago. I particularly liked Talia." She left him there, with the curtains closed.

He thumped his head on the pillow a few times. "Why me?"

::Because it takes a crafty mind to get that sort of thing out into the open and not get caught.:: Stephan seemed to be smirking. ::We can buy you the whole series when we go shopping for a laptop for you to make work.::

"I'll get you yet," he warned.

::Point, but your last name's not Fowl so I'm not that worried, Chosen.::

"Does he exist?"

::Somewhere. The same as we do, in some alternate world created by the strength of the readers' belief. Now, you need rest, dearling. You rest and think about it and I will make sure you don't go to Pern tonight. How about a ride around?::

"Sure, whatever, as long as it's not Thread," he agreed, starting to yawn. "You're very nice for a psychotic delusion."

::Thank you. We feel the same way about you, Draco.::

He laughed. "But I'm real."

::Really? Are you sure?::

"Shut up, I don't like philosophy."

::Fine. You rest. We'll go for a ride.::

Draco heard a song he didn't know in his head and smiled. "Not anything about him, please? I don't think I could take it after that."

::This one's about Bards getting into all sorts of trouble and why mothers should keep their sons out of the Collegium. We tailor each verse to our own lives you know.::

"That's fine then." He drifted off, listening to the bawdy words and smiling in his sleep at the description of the trouble Stefen had gotten into.


During the next weekend in town, Draco summoned his father to talk to him. Best to get this out of the way and Professor Snape had said that his father had suffered a similar breakdown. Maybe he would humor him? Or if not, at least he'd have some warning to steal money from the family's vaults. He strolled into the small inn, nodding at Madam Rosemerta that he would be heading for the back rooms. She pointed at a door and he nodded, heading that way. He tapped briefly before walking in. "Father," he said warmly enough, it's not like they were close.

Lucius looked up from reading a letter, looking over his son. "At least your recent ... problem has not affected you outwardly," he said grudgingly. "Close the door."

Draco walked in and shut the door. "Who told you?"

"Your Head," he said dryly, handing over the letter he had been reading.

Draco sat down, sipping his milk while he read it. "He's got it completely backwards," he noted as he handed it back. He gave his father his most pleasant smile. "I've been infected by a character from a story I was reading, not some *random* delusion."

Lucius took a deep breath. "I see. And what is this...character?"

"It's a mystical horse."

"I see," Lucius said again. "At least it's not a muggle creation," he sighed. He shook his head. "I know that Snape has told you I had a similar break. Mine never did more than talk to me," he said with disgust.

"Mine wants me to take up writing. It's given me the books I need to modify some new technology to let me type instead of hand-write things, but it wants me to start writing."

Lucius sighed. "How long will this *phase* last, boy?"

Draco finished his milk, something his mother demanded he drank whenever he was with either parent, and put the glass aside. "I don't know, father. How long did you delusion last? At least mine's generous enough to help me write papers as well." He pulled out his top-in-the-class transfiguration paper to show it off. He smiled. "McGonagall was most impressed with my wording."

"So I can see," Lucius said dryly, taking it to read it over. The faint shimmering of the prose did slightly impress him, but his son? He handed it back. "What did you need to do this...writing?"

"A computer. With all the necessary additions of course," he said smugly. "They're not that expensive anymore. Plus, I will be the only one in the school with one."

"That does not soothe me any," Lucius noted. "What are you going to do with it after you're through this phase?"

"Father, computers are a necessity of modern life," he said happily. "There's so much I can do with one, and that means others will have to come to me to do mundane things." Lucius looked him over. "I can even charge differential rates for the muggle borns."

"Very well," Lucius sighed. "Do you need anything else?"

"Can I have a blue eyed white horse?" he asked tongue-in-cheek.

"Is that all?"

"It's just like my companion."


"That's what they're called. The book said so."

"Book?" he asked, starting to look more interested.

"Books. They're the mystical helpers to Heralds."

Lucius groaned. "You have a *Companion* as a delusion?"

Draco nodded. "One that's a former bard. Hence the writing. Stefen said so."

Lucius groaned. "I will hurt you if you keep this up," he warned.

"Yes, father," Draco said calmly. "I'm sorry. It came one night while I was reading the Vanyel trilogy."

Lucius gave a heartfelt sigh of despair. "Fine. We will buy you this...computer. Come along, now, Draco." Draco stood up and followed him out, going to Diagon, then taking the bank's advice on where to go. They found themselves surrounded by thin little men and butch looking women in a store crammed with things he couldn't possibly understand. One of the thin little men wearing glasses with messy hair, that for some reason reminded him of Potter, walked over to them. He forcefully held in the sneer, knowing it meant the price would go up if he sneered at him. "My son desires a computer."

"Gamer or schoolwork?" the thin man asked.

Draco looked at him. "I want to become a writer. Plus schoolwork and that internet thingy that people keep going on about."

The guy smiled at him. "You're highborn, aren't you?" he asked tolerantly. Draco looked surprised. "Okay then, the top of the line system for you I suppose," he said, leading him past a pile of parts. "We can build one to your specifications. How are you hooking in?"

"We're in a ...technologically deficient school," Draco told him.

"Then we'll do a satellite hookup for you," he said happily. "How about power supplies?"

"They're a bit difficult now and again," Draco admitted, "but I've got a way to compensate. I would like it to be fully charged when I retrieve it."

"Cool. How about office software. What do you use to type now?"

"A pen," Lucius told him. "Quill and ink on parchment."

The guy looked at Draco. "You weren't kidding; you are in a tech deprived area. Okay, we can deal with that as well." He pulled over a paper and wrote on it. "I'll get you Corel. It's not the most common, but it's easier to learn in my own opinion." Draco nodded. "It comes with Microsoft crap already but we can deal with that later. I think Windows would do you better until you learn your way around the techie 'verse. Learning Linux is easier after you learn Windows." Draco nodded, looking like he was trying to understand. The guy gave him a smile for it. "Do you want to play games?"

"That would take time away from his homework," Lucius pointed out.

The guy looked at Draco and grinned. "Then we can set you right up, mate. Not a problem in the least. Let me go look in the back, we might have a system that we can tweak within a few minutes." He hurried into the back, going to retrieve a system they had built for a security conscious businessman, who unfortunately hadn't paid for the rest of it after being assassinated last week. He talked with their builder and he pulled the whole system down, hooking it up to see what it had on it. He gave him a thumbs up and charged it. So the nice geek went back to Draco and Lucius. "Give us two hours and we'll have it all for you. I can even give you a quick course in how to use it. It'll come to about three thousand pounds."

Lucius handed over his wallet of changed money, watching as the man counted out what he wanted. "This will give him everything he needs?"

"Unless he wants to branch into gaming, then he'll have to buy more of them," he said dryly. "They're usually pretty cheap, fifty pounds at the most."

Draco looked him over, then winked. "Thank you. Two hours?" The man nodded. "We'll be back then." He had gotten the idea that this man would give him more than he wanted and he was all for these games. Perhaps they would be amusing after all. He took his father back to Diagon, whining until he got some new clothes out of the trip as well. A Malfoy must always look his best. On the way back to the store, he saw a bookstore and ran inside, forcing his father to buy him the entire series for his own use. Plus the Pern one and the other that the salesgirl recommended. She had been cute enough for a muggle and she sounded like she knew what she was about. Otherwise she wouldn't have been working in a bookstore he supposed.


Draco looked at the machines spread out on his bed, smiling at the new toys. He knew he had to be gentle with them, so the first thing he did was to shock-proof it by adding a null space around all the edges. Then he slapped Crabbe's hand when it came near his new satellite phone. The phone hooked him into the bigger world and the computer was a fascinating thing. The charm to get it to work wasn't that hard after all that he had done earlier, and he was now setting up an email account with the help of one of the people he had ...talked into helping him. Once he was set up, he shooed the pathetic being off, not watching as he was escorted off.

"Whatcha doin'?" Pansy asked as she sashayed in. "What's that?"

"A laptop," he said absently, opening up each program to see what each did. The nice man at the store had helped him set up everything to his specifications earlier. He slapped her hand when she reached to touch the screen. "Do that and lose it," he warned. "My toy."

"You're not going to share?"

He looked at her. "No. It's your fault I had this breakdown." She pouted and stomped off. "Keep everyone away from my new toys. Including yourselves."

"Yes, Draco," Goyle sighed, watching as he typed something in. "What're you doing now?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't know, that's why I asked," Goyle pointed out.

He looked at his guard. "I'm doing a short search for writing manuals. I know nothing about writing outside of doing good papers. What did you get on your transfiguration paper?"


"Wonderful for you," Draco noted, going back to his search. He found a few results and the one he wanted was on the second page, frustrating him, but the guy had said it'd be like that most of the time. The internet was not that friendly for new people. He read over the new manual, getting involved in the various rules. It was fairly easy, following the rules of good grammar and such. Someone put a sandwich next to him. He absently ate while he read, the little voice in the back of his head telling him when he could and could not disregard rules. Later that night, they opened up their very first WordPerfect document. As soon as he started to type, he figured out he was piss poor at it and he had no idea about his subject matter.

::The blue book, Chosen,:: the voice sighed. ::The viewing spell. I'm sure you can yank some of his hair or something.::

"Yes, I can," Draco agreed, saving everything and closing his new toys down. He grabbed his wand and walked out, going to do a quick patrol of the halls. He was in luck, the library wasn't closed yet and Potter was doing the Magical Creatures essay in there without Granger. Only Weasley was guarding him. He decided to be bold and walked up to them, sneering as usual. Best not to let him know anything was up.

"What?" Weasley asked, looking over at him.

"I was wondering if I could have some of your hair to do a voodoo doll for class, Potter," he said snidely. "I promise I won't stick you or burn you, but it's easier to do it on someone you have strong feelings for."

Harry put down his pen and looked at him. "Huh?"

"Voodoo doll for class?" Draco said patiently. "Your hair?"

"Can't you use one of your idolizing horde's?" Weasley snorted.

Draco looked down at him. "I could use yours, but I can't make the same promise I did with Potter to not hurt you. The teacher made me promise not to harm him if it worked. All I need is a few hunks of hair. It's not like I'm asking for skin."

Harry sighed. "Which class is this for?"

"Magical Alternatives." He leaned over and grabbed a few pieces of Harry's hair, yanking them out and ignoring the protest the young man made. "That should do." He strolled off, going to work on the viewing spell. He had a new Quik-Quotes quill ready for him to take notes with. He sat down in the locked bathroom, setting up as quickly as he could. He pulled the book over to read the words directly from the page so he couldn't get them wrong and send himself accidentally back there. The picture formed in front of him. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, watching raptly as the story unfolded before him. When he reached the end of Harry's first year, he stopped it and bundled up the hair, going back to his bed to think about things. He had no idea. Damn, the kid and Vanyel both had that tragic hero thing going for them.

Which meant it would make an excellent story.

He smirked as he restarted his laptop, logging on through the security precautions to get to his working window. It all came so much easier now, the words seemed to flow from his fingers. If only his wrists didn't hurt so much he could get more done faster.


Severus Snape watched as his student wrote through his class, blatantly not paying attention to him. He slapped him gently across the back of the head, getting a surly look in response. "That is a leisure activity, not a classroom activity."

"Yay." Draco gathered up his things and left, going back to his room. He knew he was being followed, and his weak locking charm was easily broken by the Head of his house. "What?" he asked sullenly.

"What are you working on that is so demanding your energy?" Snape demanded.

Draco looked at him. "You can see it after I'm done. Shit, I'm nearly done, just give me another two weeks." He sat down and glared at his teacher. "Out?"

"And the rest of your classes?"

"You said yourself, I've had a breakdown, I can't really be expected to be normal," he said smugly. He logged on and opened his work window, typing in what he had just written. It fit nicely and he only had to add a sentence to make it fit in. "There, that's wonderful," he told himself. He moved onto the next scene. He felt he wrote the quidditch matches very well. Being a player meant that he could add all sorts of details that seemed to enthrall others. And at the end, he could change the names so no one would be the wiser when they read the story about Larry and Randy.


Summer came and went, and the start of school came quickly. Draco had already received his first royalty check and had used it to set himself up an account and hire someone to make his computing life easier. The nice geek at the store had been most helpful about that. Now all of Slytherin would be taught about these devices and how to do things like check bank balances online. He had seen the first of the merchandise come from his books and was delighted when he saw the articles in the Daily Prophet. The woman he had chosen to pretend to be him was wonderful cover and she had been needy, and a squib from a decent enough family he supposed. He could do a bit of charity once every decade or so and not get called a goodie to his face. He only needed the cover and then he could get on with his life. That's where he was now, standing on the platform for the train, watching as Harry complained to Ron about someone doing this to his life as they walked back to their compartment.

"I don't understand how they knew so much about the Dursleys," Harry complained. "There's stuff there that I never wanted to get out."

Ron patted him on the back. "Ginny got an action figure to show mum. Mum about screamed in horror, said they got you all wrong sorta. Charlie thought it was neat, you being a toy and all."

Harry grimaced. "I don't like the regular popularity, now I'm being seen as some sort of tragic hero. It sucks, Ron, badly."

"Yeah, it does," Ron agreed, patting him on the back. "C'mon, I snuck in a few bottles of butterbeer from the Leaky last night. We'll sit in there and eat chocolate and drink until I have to go do Prefect stuff." He got them settled and looked out the window, noticing that Draco was watching them. "Why does he have on a cheesy shirt like that?" he asked loudly.

Draco smirked as he walked into the Prefect's compartment, taking his rightful, and large, seat. Granger looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "It was too good to resist," he said smugly. "We get all sorts of neat little trinkets celebrating our Slytherin heritage, I *had* to get some."

"Malfoy, you're not that insane," she said dryly, going back to her book. "Where were Harry and Ron, since you probably ducked them to get in here."

"Their own little world drinking butterbeers. Potter's still whining about his misfortune." He smirked when she got up and stomped out. He touched the little voice. "You, love, are so wicked," he whispered. "I had no idea what sort of chaos this could sow in so many lives. Your wickedness goes even beyond my own."

The little voice in the back of his head blew a kiss. ::I'm only in it for the stories and the songs, love. You're on your own for everything else. The only chaos I know is Van's sweet touches.:: Stefen seemed to leer at him, making his 'Chosen' chuckle. ::We should start on year two soon. Get going while the trend's still hot.::

"Yes, we should," Draco agreed, pulling out his laptop to start working on the next book. This one had so many more delightful twists and turns in it. He had already done his viewing so it would go faster this year. Just wait until Potter saw what he knew about what they had done that year. He would be mortified and embarrassed to whole new levels. Plus, Draco could sit back smugly and taunt him about his new popularity. It was a priceless gift to be Chosen.

The End.