Blood Trials
The Golden Blood Type

Sebastian was pacing erratically along the front doors of the manor. He stood up when he saw Ahmed's jacklen form cradling Tomás' motionless form. Behind them, Dane's Jaguar purred to a halt. Ahmed and Sebatian hurried inside. Calista jumped out of the car and hurried after them. Dane killed the engine then glanced over to his unmoving date who stared ahead. The Source didn't bother with her runaway tears and her begrimed makeup. He took in the pout on her lips, not bothered at all that the deep purplish-red tone was smeared over him too.

Dane's cold hand reached for hers and she still didn't budge. Her sniffling was suppressed, and she hardly looked alive. The Danish hunter shifted and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "Ridley," he called softly. She didn't move. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure it out." The Source closed her eyes and more tears dripped down her face. He took her hand in his and jolted. "You're freezing!" Nothing! "Damnit, Ridley," he vexed, stripping off his jacket.

He cast it over her shoulders, tucking his collar under her neck and draping the sleeves as he could. Dane saw little from her. He got out of the driver's seat. He cradled her in his arms, bridal style. He briefly leaned his forehead into hers. The only movements she made was her nestling into neck and wrapping her arms around him. Dane felt every scattered breath blow on him as his footfalls echoed across the manor's floor. On the staircase, he heard Dominique's brainless arguing.

Ridley burrowed deeper into Dane's hold. He continued, seeing Clarke and Mariska hurry inside too. He passed the bedroom and made up the narrow steps that led into the reconditioned tower that was Ridley's room. The deep purple walls were a circle. Dane set her on her grey monochrome bed. She shifted away from him, wiping her tears, spreading her ruined makeup even more. Dane sat on the edge, hearing her jagged breathing.

"I can't," Ridley murmured. Dane looked over his shoulder at her. She curled herself tightly. "You know I can't do that. How can none of you understand that?" A firm hand rested over her exposed ankle. Ridley shook her head. Dane shifted when the bed bounced from her sitting up.

The Source looked aside defeatedly. "They won't help?" Ridley shook her head. "Do you have any idea how to... do...?" She shook her head then tucked her legs. "Apart from the obvious, are you okay?"

The sudden quiet in her room was brief before the thundering roar of the world's ampyras filled her head. Everyone, everywhere, all at once. A few moon students - oblivious to the fray - were still at the Barnyard, shooting pool and drinking bane brew and alcohol. Vampires across the world were either waking up or were well into their day. She could feel Dominique losing her rationality with every passing moment and Tomás, completely unconscious but still alive.

"Please stay." Dane wriggled up the length of the bed while Ridley slid her arms through his jacket's sleeves. With a ghost-like touch, his hands slid off her shoes. A weak smile came from her. He laid down and faced her downtrodden expression. His heartbeat was steady, on her face, and his breathing was calming. She laced her fingers with his.

Ridley didn't let go of his hand, not even when Dane fell asleep and snored into her ear. The huntress' other hand rest over her sternum, where the foxen had impaled her. The pain was expected, the strain from healing wasn't. She was still sore from the encounter, which was also new. The pain from breathing had eased, though. It raised an unsettling question: could Morgan elicit the same damage?

The Source's gold-ringed eyes pointed to her ceiling stood out against the darkness. Her attention swiftly moved from the therianthropes to Ankh. Her omnipresence brought her into a doctor's office. Strulovitch, Margrethe and Viggo were all there. Their patient... the Source felt a white, ice-cold phobia burst through her veins... was Ankh. She was hunched forward with her hands clasped in her lap.

Her brown bob cut was down and covering a better part of her face, but the familiar psionic feeling was unmistakably that of Ankh Badr. The Source crept forward weakly, expecting the worst. Strulovitch was scrolling through his tablet with a distinct approval on his usually crestfallen expression. "This's nothing like anything I could've anticipated," the doctor admitted excitedly. "The psionic waves in her brain are incredible! There must be, at least, three billion neuromorphic links conjoined to you."

"English, doctor," Viggo egged.

"This one is capable of psionic communication between the world's vampire population."

"Perks of being ajar to the Source," Ankh admitted.

"What's it like? Hearing everyone all at once," Strulovitch pressed. "There must be an overwhelming preternatural claustrophobia."

"Actually," Ankh began thoughtfully, "it's just like hearing a beehive in the distance. Took Ridley a while before she managed to filter it out, but the buzzing never goes away."

"Now all we need is a viable recipient," Margrethe voiced. "One that won't just become the Source, on that will have the same supremacy output and reach as the girl."

"This is beyond psichemistry," Strulovitch directed to Viggo and Margrethe. "Yes, psionics is some sort of electrochemical communication between Subject Supreme-1 and -2, but at this scale...?"

"The Source is like a voodoo doll," Viggo stated. "If she's wounded enough, every vampire alive will be too. We can't harm her unless we can guarantee the recipient, and all of us, won't be affected."

This! Ankh perked up curiously. This is why we are better off alone, Ninsun bellowed. The wolfen scanned the room before seeing Ridley in her tattered wedding dress. See what you've done! Your recklessness has...

"She's here," Ankh stated, pointing towards her. Ridley and the passed Sources were stunned wordless by that. Magrethe and Viggo turned to Ridley. "Your goons did a number on her, Viggo."

"Nothing serious, I take it? Seeing as we're all unscathed."

"A-Ankh, you're..."

"I've been blocking you out intentionally," Ankh admitted. "Ahmed finally told me the truth about my parents, and here I am because of him and Calista." Still dubious, the Source could only look on as Ankh turned back to Viggo. "You all need to be careful. She can see any of you at any given moment. But not the therianthropes or the werebeasts."

Ha! This is what you get for trusting the mangy beast!

Ankh merely sized her up. The pensive on her face turned to Strulovitch. Strulovitch was more interested in Ankh's scans. "What will happen to me," she asked abruptly. "Ajar die when their sire dies. Since she'll be stuck in the next Source's head, what will happen to me?"

"I have a few theories," Strulovitch admitted. "Since Subject Supreme-1 won't, by definition, be dead, I deduce that either the psionic link between will break and you can live out the rest of your life as a therianthrope."

"Or?"

"Or you'll be conjoined to the new Source," he stated as if it were nothing. "Or you'll die." Ankh turned to Viggo for support. "Or you might become brain dead. Or... the possibilities don't actually cease."

"There must be a way to block out the Source," Margrethe deflected, looking towards Ridley, but only saw Strulovitch's messy desk. "She must have some sort of weakness."

Oh, that mutt better not, Ninsun hissed.

"She does," Viggo stated. "Only one known weakness that Edwyn found.

Ankh looked to Ridley with a devilish smirk. "Silver."

Ridley's smudged lipstick-tainted lips contorted to a pout. "Why would you do this," she asked. Without awaiting an answered, she added: "they have Sayeed." Ankh only tilted her head with her smirk going nowhere. Ridley's awe stretched on her face before the compound vanished.

She sat upright, shaking her head. Dane groaned lowly but he was shushing her, tugging her back down. Ridley, appalled, obeyed only to have snorring thundering in her ear again. She shook her head while the passed Sources resumed their ridicule. A warm hand rested over her torso and Dane's thumb brushed over the exposed skin. Tears pulled in her eyes and the compressive force of feeling helpless kept her occupied for the remainder of the night.

She rested her forehead against Dane's, feeling the demure in his sleep. His lashes brushed against her cheek, right until he yawned off his dream state. He scoffed with a grin, cupping her cheek. Unfazed entirely by the scuffy makeup still on her face. He kissed her forehead then wrapped her in his arms. Her own arms wrapped around him, hugging him firmly. Some of the pearl pins in her hair had fallen out, leaving it half loos and half firmly pinned in place.

The rhythmic heartbeat under her ear was just as serene as hearing the Mediterranean from Chateau du Luq. Dane only made it better from combing through the loose portion of straight black hair. The sun seeped through the dark-coloured room, and Ridley could feel activity resume around the school. The moon students who were coming from Clarke's late announcement, sun students waking up and learning about the aforementioned announcement. Not that the Source could sense the sun students away from the moon students.

Despite the sore sight she must have been, Ridley walked through the former fort. From the watch tower that was her bedroom, through the second floor. The manor echoed with Rowan's alarm-issued crying. Ridley and Dane passed Tomás's room, finding him in company with Dominique and her boundless crying. The Source sighed and steeled herself on and down the mahogany staircase. Dane cupped her at the waist reassuringly then led her into the kitchen.

Mariska and Calista had taken over cooking duties. The aroma of Calista's cooking and Mariska opening the built-in blood bank was harmonious. "I'm glad you're finally awake," Calista voiced then turned to them. Her face showcased her crying from earlier that Ridley managed to block out. The Egyptian sniffled then exhaled. "Clarke is doing damaging control on last night," she began as the back door opened. Ahmed - in his primal form - led Morgan inside. "The therianthropes the students saw last night were the result of a mass hallucination. We found trace amount of ketocybine on the food and large amounts of it in the pecanwood hall's vents, which haven't been cleaned out in three weeks. Got it?"

"I've never heard of ketocybine," Dane stated.

"It's a made-up drug," Ridley voiced. "Izekiel and Lewis thumb-sucked it from ketamine and psilocybin." Calista nodded and handed Dane a plate of her homemade taameya; an Egyptian breakfast falafel made with fava beans, in place of chickpeas. "There's something else," the Source said, looking at Ahmed.

The little wolf licked his snout before dropping his head. His coat was grey - almost like Ankh's - but his had light brown blotches. His dark eyes looked up to Dane and Ridley before he nestled into Ridley's torn bodice. Dane scratch Morgan's spine before the wolfen made for the dining hall. Ahmed snarled lowly before his bones shifted and he stood naked in the kitchen. His bones cracking and rearranging were softcore, compared to Ankh's that made Ridley's stomach curl.

Mariska, before the Source went on, handed her granddaughter a pint of blackblood non-ampyra. "Thanks," she mumbled coldly. Ahmed cast an arm over Calista's shoulders, watching the huntress shifted uneasily. "The good news is, I know where Ankh is." Calista gasped her elation. "Don't," she cut in. She looked from the pint of blood to Calista and Ahmed. "She told Viggo about Sayeed."

"What," Dane whispered in disbelief. "Sh-she wouldn't."

"No, she would," Ahmed argued. He looked to Calista. "I told her about Talia and Nathaniel." Calista shut her eyes and turned away. Ahmed faced the two hunters. "The just of all this is, an eye for an eye. But that doesn't change that Ankh is your friend. She'll listen to you."

Ridley looked down at the blood in her hands. "She put my brother's life in the balance and gave up her own." She dropped her arms to the side. "My voice of reason and the most level-headed woman I know did that, and you think she'll listen?"

"You're awfully fast to turn on her," Mariska pointed out.

"I was there. I'm still there. She's talking to Strulovitch, right now, and explaining the ins and outs of my psionic link with every single ampyra. They plan on transferring the Bloodline to someone who will willingly donate blood as they need it." Ridley sighed then squared her shoulders. "I want to believe that she and Sayeed have some sort of plan we don't know about, but she's not leaving a lot of room for interpretation. Not when Tomás and Sebastian's lives are on the line."

"What about Sayeed's concoction?"

"He doesn't have confidence in it," Ridley stated looking down at the black blood in her hand. "... on therianthropes..." She looked up to see Sebastian coming in. "Tomás' a Third Gen goldblood, that means our grandparents were turned by a Source. His blood is closer to the Bloodline, than Morgan's."

"That means his body could fight it with the right antibodies," Sebastian continued. "Even if he's been infected, he could fight off with the vaccine. Let's go!"

"Sebastian," Dane called. "You're Tomás' ajar. He's growing weaker, which means so are you. Ridley and I can handle this."

"Actually, Sorensen, I need you to come with me and Calista. After last night's attack, we're going to need Falk and his colony. We barely kept those therians at bay. It would be easier with if Falk knew there was a Wolfensøn working with us." Dane looked to Ridley for support, and she nodded.

"Sebastian, I can do this alone. It's just the lab at the hunter facility," the Source stated.

The English man shook his head defiantly. "I cannot, Ms Ridley. I beg of you, 'tis either I come with you and do something, no matter how trivial, or sit and pine in silence. As a fellow warrior, you understand this cold pinch of uselessness."

The huntress nodded her understanding. "Let's do what we have to, everyone. And do it quickly."

Dane grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. "You should change."

Ridley looked down at her tarnished satin frock, covered in blood and fur. She sighed then pressed the blood bag between her teeth to gather her skirt in handfuls. Dane followed her back up to her room, feeling her hand take his. Again, they passed Tomás and Dominique. This time, the Source couldn't help herself; she went in. Tomás laid - barely awake - with Dominique squeezing his hand.

The feeble aunt saw her niece and went even more pale than she naturally should. "By the gods! Dearest!" Tomás weakly rolled his head towards her. "Have you gotten a cure?"

Ridley passed Dominique to see Tomás' eye heavy and straining to stay open. "Ma soeur," he sang. "Tu vas bien?" Ridley sat on the edge of the bed, taking his other hand. She creased her eyebrows then turned his hand over to see his veins darkening. "Oh, non! Soeur, votre robe."

"That's a crime against fashion, now, dearest."

"We're on our way, but I had to see him."

"I understand why he didn't want you to see him this way," Dominique stated. "Poor thing has been losing it slowly."

"Ridley, his veins."

"I know," the Source answered. "I haven't seen anything like this happen to any of the other victims. It must be because he's a goldblood." Ridley leaned and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "I promise I'm going to fix this, Tomás."

"We taught you better than to make promises you can't keep," Esmeralda stated.

"How dare you, you miserable..."

"That's not what she meant, Dominique." Ridley stroked the abyssal-toned hair out of his face. "And I haven't forgotten that lesson, so I don't make promises I can't keep." Ridley looked over Tomás a final time then made for the door. "There's someone he needs to meet, Esmeralda. Morien Grey."

"The tattooist?"

"He's Tomás uncle."

Esmeralda - patting Rowan's back rhythmically - glanced between Ridley and Tomás. Then she looked to Dominique standing in curiosity. "I'll page him." Ridley nodded sullenly.

"I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Oh, that dress," Dominique lamented after Ridley had vanished. "That poor, innocent dress. Caught in the crossfire. That the gods for retailers."

Ridley shut the door behind her then squared her shoulders. "It's okay," Dane stated.

"You try having three old men yelling at you 24/7. They want me away from here; from my family; from civilisation in general." Dane hugged her from behind, leaning into her. "What about you? You and Viggo, last night..."

"He's strangely convincing in the matter of getting to know him." Ridley leaned into him, and Dane breathed over her neck. "I must be out of my mind, right?" She hummed as she shook her head. "I'm confused, Rid. Can't you tell me what to do?"

"I could but no matter I say, it'll feel wrong. You have to figure that part out for yourself," she stated. "As long as you know that this will end. One way or another." A rueful nod paired with a sigh was all he responded with. Ridley sighed too. "Help me out of this thing?"

Dane nodded on the nook of her neck. His warm hands slid down her shoulders and down her exposed back. The Source could feel heart start to race, despite keeping his cool. A humid hand tugged the zip down and his heavy breathing made goosebumps on her neck. Expecting a bra, or some sort of undergarment, there was just sun-kissed, scar-spangled skin. He swallowed hard, pushing the dress down.

All the while, grinning like the Chesire Cat, Ridley was pulling out the pearl pins. Blushing profusely, Dane crossed the room, staring at the wall while Ridley was changing. In exchange for the wedding dress, the Source put on a black pleated skirt and a leather corset top. She pursed her lips, feeling his heart still beating chaotically. She put on her shoes then cleared her throat.

Seeing the eagerness on his face and feeling the extent of his craving, Ridley pursed her lips, starting to blush. "I really hate having a girlfriend I can't lie to," he huffed. "You can't turn it off?"

"Still looking for the mute button," she admitted. She picked up the quiver strung up on her wall. "Be careful of Falk. The colony is old and struck in its ways, but he will definitely be on your case. Here," she tossed the quiver to him. "In unlikely event Viggo makes a cameo, shoot to kill." Dane looked down at the black case ruefully before looking back. "Not Viggo necessarily, genius."

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She grabbed her karambit and its garter sheath, strapping it to her thigh as they left. Sebastian fell in step with her while Ahmed took off in his Jeep. The school was filled with unease with word spreading. Sebastian admired what he could of Dunon Academy. Students - sun and moon, alike, now that classes were over - were dawdling at their leisure. Of course, Simon-Paul, Marcus and Kenneth were sitting at the benches near the water fountain where Ridley stopped for her daily jog, back when she was a student.

During her brief time as a moon student, she once got into a brawl with them, save for Marcus. The splitting image of Earnest and equally as grounded. Among the trio of men was Marie. Ridley made nothing of them as she crossed the quad with Sebastian. She only gave a heavy sigh when she felt Marie grow a tinge of annoyance and get up. Ridley rolled her eyes, taking Sebastian's wrist and picked up the pace.

"Nope," Marie spat, grabbing the lengthy black ponytail. Ridley spun! She twisted Marie's wrist off her. "What's going on," the French huntress demanded. "Mass hallucination? Come on. Anyone smart enough to Google that, would debunk that."

"I don't know. Ketocybine is pretty powerful."

"Listen here, Riddles, we're both hunters and..."

"We've both made hunt," Ridley cut in, stepping passed her. "Blah, blah, blah. I don't have time for this. I have lives to save." Marie stabbed Ridley in the shoulder. Ridley grunted then swung her stiletto platform boot across Marie's face. "I... don't... have.. time, Marie."

Ridley took Sebastian's arm and took to a full sprint across the quad. They crossed the western garden to the hunters' facility. Ridley hurled the door open and rushed passed the gym. They bustled down the steel stairwell, going underground. The line of laboratories were quiet. Ridley ripped the door off the hinges - accidentally, of course - and tossed the bulletproof glass aside. Sebastian hurried in, looking around pedantically.

Ridley leaned the door against the wall, then spun around to face Sayeed, strapped to a gurney. Margrethe was typing on her tablet then arched an eyebrow before looking at him. The Source walked up to the gurney, looking at the strain on Sayeed's face. The restraints were too tight over his wrists, legs and chest.

Magrethe watched an assistant looking at a sample of Sayeed's blood under a microscope. The assistant looked over his shoulder and gave a nod. Margrethe set her tablet aside then plugged the blood donation bag into his wrist. Ridley took his hand and gave a tight squeeze. Sayeed's scowl was only on Margrethe. She smirked, watching his black blood start to come.

Ridley seethed then continued into Sayeed's lab. The two tubes were set in a holder, in the medical cooler. The Source took both as well as a syringe. She bit her lower lip, tucking the supplies into Sebastian's fanny pack. She moaned then leaned into the workstation. She tumbled to the sterilised floor, hitting her head on the steel chair on the way down. She cupped her forehead then looked next to her.

The black in Tomás' veins had spread from his arms and legs to his face and neck. He rolled aside coughing blood. A far cry from his disorientated state, in the night. Dominique was right outside the room, hugging Clarke for comfort. Tomás' eyes rolled in the back of his head, wheezing. Ridley could feel his lungs were set ablaze and his muscles were too heavy to move and relaxing them was painful.

"We have to hurry," she declared.

"No need to tell me," Sebastian sang drowsily.

Ridley flung him over her shoulders. She grunted but forced her legs to carry them up the stairs, earning praise and confusion from veteran hunters. She strained from Sebastian's weight but pushed on. She was jogging stiffly across the western garden, towards the quad. Marie arched an eyebrow then stepped to block her path, lightly tipping Sebastian and making them crumble. The ajar groaned then rolled away from the Source.

"We're going to talk," Marie hissed.

Ridley whipped out a throwing knife. She threw it at Marie's ankle. "Not now!" Marcus left his friends to spectate the budding melee. Ridley made for a punch. Marie swat her own knife across Ridley's face. The Source stammered backwards, splattering into Sebastian. "Marie, I can't do this right now. My brother's dying. He needs--"

"Sister." Ridley spun around. Healthy as a horse, stood Tomás du Luq. The bone-chilling jolt that shook her, made her heart murmur. "My beautiful sister."

Ridley shook her head with the tears burning in her eyes. "No," she gasped. "No, no! Not you," she wailed. "Just... just lay back down, I have the medicine." Tomás shook his head with a beaming smile, that showed how much like their mother he looked. The trembling breath was nothing compared to the earthquaking tremor that resonated throughout her. "Please! I lost Ryan, and Timothee. I can't lose you too!"

Tomás crossed the grim bedroom and cupped her cheeks. "I will never ever be far, sister." Ridley shook her head. Every word that came out of her was a mumble that was clogged by the thick lump in her throat. Tomás wiped away her tears but they came flooding uncontrollably. "But my time has come. I will be reunited with our brother, our sister, my wife and daughter."

"... Tomás..."

"It has been the greatest pleasure to get to know you. To love you." Ridley shook her head, sobbing like a gorilla. Tomás' ghostly kiss on her forehead was replied with a jagged sob and wail. "I love you with my entire heart, Ridley Dominique Davinca Axel du Luq." She gripped his sleeve but his arm slipped right through her hold. He turned towards the window and was gone. On the bed, still with protruding purpling veins, laid the still body.

Ridley caved to her knees, covering her mouth. In place of dark wooden floor was grass under the sun. She doubled over wailing like siren. She sobbed then looked up to Sebastian who nodded and gave a warm, wry grin. "Goodbye." Sebastian fell over, dead. The Source sobbed into her hands.

Marie knelt to take his pulse while Marcus was beside Ridley. The ear-splitting scream she let loose caught the attention of the patrolling hunters, the surrounding students, teachers and the handful of parents that came early. She bundled herself on the floor, screaming. Marcus pressed her into his chest but even he couldn't muffle the resonating roar. It worsened when she felt Dominique return to the room with Clarke. The new wave crashing agony echoed from Dominique and right into Ridley. The Source clutched onto Marcus, digging her nails into him.

Her sobbing didn't snuff out Marie calling it in. Hunters from the school infirmary came shortly after that. They set Ridley in her own cubicle while Sebastian was taken to the morgue. The Source was panting harshly on the hospital bed, clutching the du Luq pendant around her neck. She could sense Dr Corbin, a goldblood, talking with Clarke and Esmeralda. Dominique... inconsolable, heart-clenched Dominique... wallowed next to the remains of Tomás. Mariska for company.

Clarke held Rowan while Esmeralda sat alongside her daughter. The Source looked up, starting to cry all over again. "I c-couldn't... I should have saved..." She snorted the thick snot that had formed. "I-I promis-sed him."

"Sh, sh," Esmeralda lulled.

"It's like Ryan all over again." Esmeralda stroked through her tied-up hair, shaking her head. "Please kill me."

"Don't say that."

"Kill me before I kill someone else."

"Ridley..."

"Because that's what happens." Clarke rounded the bed and stuffed Rowan into Esmeralda's chest. He pulled his eldest into his chest, holding her flush against him. "That's what happens when people get close to me." Clarke gripped the back of her head, pressing her into him. "I can't do this anymore." Her breathing into him was heaved. "They were right," she mumbled. "I have to go," she whispered. Ridley pushed him off her. "Tell Dominique..." Ridley started hyperventilating.

Clarke laid her down and put the oxygen mask over her face. Ridley's heaving didn't stop her from gnawing at Clarke's wrist and hand. "Ridley, I could suffocate you here and now but that won't solve anything," the principal stated. "I'm going to sedate you now." she shook her head.

"Is that smart," Esmeralda questioned.

"She'll wake up more collected." He jabbed her. He and Esmeralda watched her drift off with Rowan's cooing the last thing she heard.

The glimpses of omnipresence returned; Margrethe in her office with her 2000s' tape recorder in hand, how she usually was when she was alone. The pristine white office was blinding during the day, with a view of the body of water Ridley could pick up. The Danish doctor pressed record while swinging herself about in her white leather office chair.

"There are four main blood types. These types are determined by proteins in our red blood cells. Then there is the ‘golden blood type’, Rh-null. The golden blood type contains no Rh antigens in the red blood cells. This makes it the rarest blood type. The Source, however, puts Rh-null to shame. Not only does Subject Supreme-1's blood also have an absence of Rh antigens, her blood contains a different protein entirely. The vampires of antiquity have come to call it ‘vitae’, meaning ‘life’. In contrast to Rh-null, that has a small pool of donors, Subject Supreme-1's blood is undisputedly and completely universal. I can also conclude, without a shadow of a doubt, this blood is a universal cure.”

Ridley gasped and bolted upright with Clarke and Esmeralda jumping with fright. "That wasn even ten minutes," Clarke stated.

"She couldn't have fought it off that quickly."

Ridley moaned then wiped away her tears. “I was the cure,” she stated.

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