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The story of Zex; The untold legends
Topic Started: Jan 28 2006, 06:06 PM (599 Views)
Gan Dragmire
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Well, Zex is pretty much my main character now... and unlike Sparn, he DOESN'T have about 20 different stories of how he grew up... I can't even remember most of those....

Seriously, sometimes Sparn was a Deku, once he was a Zora, then he was a male Gerudo, once he was a Chao, sometimes he was just a normal human.... But there's only one Zex Techno... and this is his story....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was a hero who none knew of... A legend with no memory of who he really was...

His name was Zex Techno. Once a hero who no one could match, now a simple thief who is more concerned with benefiting himself than with what is right or wrong. How did this end up happening? It began 16 years before he started his life of thievery, at the age of 8. These are the lost records he had kept of his journeys.
This is his story.

Chapter 1: Fear

The day they came was the day I finally got things into perspective. When I realized how foolish it was to assume you could ever be safe. Until that point, someone claiming to laugh in the face of danger struck me as someone who was brave. Now I just think of them as fools and liars.
If you’ve ever encountered true fear, you’re lucky to have lived through it. No one laughs in the face of danger and lives to tell the tale. If you run into something that is truly dangerous, something that truly should be feared, chances are it would kill you before you had a chance to laugh.



It had started out as a normal day for me. I woke up groggily and ate breakfast... I helped my father work...I think I had gone to seen my friend Kimico that day... It was the last day I ever saw her.

I was relaxing when they arrived. I believe I may have been sleeping in a pile of hay. Then I was suddenly awake with a start, and all around I saw people running in fear... I heard screams of pain and cries of sorrow... I saw shops destroyed, building burning down... I think the last thing I actually noticed was what was causing it.

At a first glance, I thought they were skeletons of some kind... they were thin and pale... But I’ve come to learn that they were at one point human... But each and every one of them had been horribly transformed. They were everywhere in the town, carrying torches and swords, and killing or burning anything they saw. That was when I learned what fear was.

It’s a lucky thing I didn’t scream in fear or cry out... For if I had, I surely would have been killed then and there. I burrowed deep into the hay and silently cried as everyone I knew was killed... Everyone I held dear was gone now... And I had no place to go and no friends to turn to...

After the army of the barely living had killed or captured everyone in the village, they departed. I waited until the sounds outside had stopped, and carefully pushed some hay to the side to look through into the streets. It is hard to imagine what destruction such as this looks like, and the image of it stored in my mind haunts me to this day...

It was the day that I lost everything I had... When I lost everyone I knew... It was the day I learned what fear was truly like... and it was the day I started off on my first adventure...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Gan Dragmire
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Chapter 2: Anger

Anger seems like a strange concept when you think about it. What is anger? Is it a mindless urge to destroy and kill? Is it a burning desire for revenge? I’m not sure of this, myself. Anger is a rather odd emotion, and I’ve experienced a great deal of it... Both directed at others and directed at myself. When you’re truly angry, your thoughts start to scramble and common sense seems to fade... Your senses are corrupted, causing you to not only notice things you would normally not but miss things you normally would. Anger is one of the strongest feelings there is, and it seems to overpower all others when experienced.



There I lay, having witnessed the destruction of my home and the death of everyone I held dear. The ones who did this would not be difficult to track, but doing so is what one might call suicidal. I learned one of the strange things about anger then... It is often preceded by a shocked calmness. I think I was in that hay stack for an hour before the horrible events finally settled in my mind and anger took hold. I screamed in frustration and sorrow, punching at the hay angrily.

I was only eight, and my life had been brought crashing down all around me. I sobbed and punched the hay until eventually I collapsed into a nightmare filled sleep. My dreams were strange... I am still searching for some seer or wizard who might have put the guiding messages into my mind, but have so far not even found a clue to who it might have been. I do not remember the dreams exactly, but when I awoke I had a strange realization of what I had to do.

I stood up shakily, both tired and distraught. I may have taken a moment standing there to try and come to terms with the world, but I failed to do so. I stumbled blindly through the streets of the wreckage, unsure of what I was looking for, until I at last recognized the rubble of my own house. I managed to keep my emotions under control and began to sift through the charred stone and burnt wood. After nearly an hour of the exhausting work, I found the chest my father had kept and told me to never open. A single tear dropped from my face with this memory, and more would have followed if I had and tears left to shed.

Worn out and now disheartened, I slowly placed my hands on the lid and began to open it. I had almost instantly understood why I had been told to leave this chest be while my father was still alive. Inside was a somewhat battered and dirty sheath, which I carefully lifted and set on the ground. It was surprisingly light, and I had expected it to be rusty and dull. Taking hold of the hilt and pulling out the blade almost cautiously, my eyes widen and I stopped breathing for a moment as I looked upon the beautiful blade. I am not yet sure what the metal was, but it was both very light and almost impossibly durable. I felt one of the edges nervously and very softly, and quickly drew back as the razor blade almost sliced open my skin.

I waited for a moment, staring at the blade that had once belonged to my father, and then knew what I had to do with it. I had to use that blade to kill the ones who had done this to me. I looked into the box once more and noticed a pair of thin, almost fluid metal gloves. Putting them on slowly and with respect for my deceased father, I was amazed at how well they fit and how they did not inhibit my hand movements in even the slightest. I sheathed the sword, strapped it to my shoulder, and without looking back at the village, walked silently away, following the tracks left by the raiders.


Nothing could stop me from getting vengeance now. Nothing.
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Gan Dragmire
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Chapter 3: Courage

Perhaps courage is one of the rarest emotions that currently exists... Heroes are rare, and as the number of people who are brave enough to fight decreases, the amount of evil increases.... Courage is one of the most helpful things to feel, as often it will allow you to do much more than what you even thought possible... Courage brings the will to move on, the determination to keep fighting, and often the strength to win... It is a shame that courage is so rare now... but that’s how the world is, and the few remaining heroes will fight to protect those who lack it.





About an hour into following the trail of the near-dead clan, I realized that in my anger I had forgotten something. I had no food and no water. There was no place to get either, since every village I found was nothing more than smoldering ruins. I had never left my village before, except for rare occasions when I left with my father or with Kimico and her family to visit friends in other towns. As a result, I had no skills or experience of any kind in either hunting or finding water. Things looked very bad.

I might have panicked then. Yes, I probably did. I saw no signs of any life at all, and had to press onwards despite my growing thirst and hunger. After almost a full day of sleepless tracking, not long after nightfall, I was able to see them. They were a mile or so off, and they had settled and made a camp where I could see fires burning. I may have forgotten to mention this, but I am terrified of the dark. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, then took a deep breath and started approaching the camp, keeping low and moving quietly.

When I was only about a hundred feet from them, I could hear laughing. The kind of laughing that people sometimes make when they’re killing others. Mixed in with the laughs were screams of pain.. That did not help my low amount of remaining courage at all. I glanced around looking for what it was they were laughing at. What I saw was a man tied up and hung by rope over a large fire. The near-deads were laughing as they beat him with clubs and lashed him with whips.

The strange thing is, instead of scaring me away, it only refueled my anger and courage. I stood up and unsheathed my sword, then walked towards them. They saw me before I had even walked three yards. They all grinned wickedly at the sight of me, an eight year old boy. I guess I looked like an easy target. This might also be a good time to mention that I had never even held a sword before. The thought didn’t occur to me at the time, though. They began to draw weapons and about a dozen of them suddenly dashed towards me with their swords drawn.

Describing a battle of this manner is rather difficult, but I’ll try. One of them reached me a few seconds before the others, and he ran towards me while slashing down, nearly doubly the amount of power in his swing. Amazingly, I sidestepped and slashed down onto his blade, knocking it right out of his hand, then spun and slashed. He screamed and fell to the ground, and with a slight shock I realized that he was dead, lying on the ground motionless. Not surprisingly, he did not bleed.

In that moment of shock, about three of the others caught up and a bony fist smashed into my face and sent me flying to the ground. I managed to keep a grip on my sword, and with a swing of my blade redirected a slash aimed at me by the second right into the chest of the one who had struck me. I must have hit a vital spot, because he fell to the ground with a slight gasp and died. As the third swung down at me with a club, I rolled to the side and grabbed the sword dropped by the one who punched me and quickly flung it at the one with a club. It went right into his face and he dropped with his eyes wide.

The near-deads in the camp were now staring in shock. I got to my feet quickly and rammed into the last one near me, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground, when I ended his life with a quick slash and turned to face the remaining 8. Or at least, I had meant to, but when I turned there were only there. Without looking, I knew that I was surrounded and they were moving in slowly. I grabbed the club with my free hand and lobbed it at the one in front of me and in the middle, hitting him in the stomach and temporarily winding him. I dashed forward and rolled under the slashing blood-soaked blades of the ones next to him, then sprung upwards in a stab and speared my blade right through his gut, and as I landed pulled my blade back out and swung while turning, beheading the one on the right. I swung at the one on the left, but was blocked and then hit hard with a shoulder ram. I recovered with a roll as I hit the ground, using the momentum to regain my footing. As I rolled I grabbed a handful of dirt, which I then threw into his face and killed him as he was blinded.

There were five left. I turned to look for them, and suddenly as an instinct jumped sideways as a slash came at me from my side. My arm was sliced and I started bleeding. With a yell I lunged at him and swung furiously. He raised his sword to block, but to both his amazement and mine, it shattered. He took the swing full force across his chest and fell. Without pausing for a moment, I stepped to my right and spun as a blade pierced through the air where I had stood only seconds before. Slashing down, I took the arm wielding the blade off and then rammed into the near-dead, sending him stumbling backwards into one behind him. They both lost their balance and fell to the ground, and I leaped forward and then slammed down onto them with my sword pointed down, impaling both of them at once.

There were two left. One of them stood a few feet in front of me, looking terrified. I kicked the ground with my foot turned sideways as I stepped towards him, and a cloud of dirt went up. I threw the sword I had grabbed earlier right through the cloud, and it stabbed into his chest and killed him. As I turned to face the remaining one, he was smiling. Raising his blade, he stabbed himself and died with the wicked grin on his face. As I looked around I realized that the entire camp had left. I angrily yelled and stomped onto the ground. Then I noticed that almost all of the supplies had been left behind. I looked around to check for signs of them, then walked into the camp and grabbed a sack of smoked and salted meat. I didn’t much like the idea, but there was no other food to be found. I walked around and picked up three flasks of water, strapping them to a belt lying on the ground made for exactly that purpose. I fastened on the belt, and without a second thought, collapsed lightly to the ground and sunk into an exhausted sleep.
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Gan Dragmire
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Chapter 4: Confusion

Confusion is also one of the stranger emotions we encounter... We are unable to think clearly, and sometimes make bad choices or judgments... But what is the cause of confusion? It may be that our minds simply cannot overcome some puzzle or something of the sort, and just give up. The strange thing is that this emotion we often prefer to avoid often comes along with one that we all seek. Love. But that emotion is another topic entirely and I won’t go into it now.... There doesn’t seem to be much of it in my life to write about.
Enemies may often use confusion to their advantage. They may purposely cause you to lose track of your thoughts and become much weaker. Some may go as far as to confuse your mind to the point where you cannot tell friend from foe, or see things that are not there. To be the victim of such is a very horrible feeling when you come to realize what really happened....





I awoke with a slight start, looking around quickly. Amazingly, I had not been attacked during the night. I stood up and yawned, picked up my equipment and started to walk away. Then I heard it. There was a faint whining sound from a short distance away. No, there were two. I put aside common sense and walked towards the source without any caution at all.

What I saw were two wolf cubs trapped in a hanging net. I think it must have been set up by the near-deads. I untangled the net and lowered it to the ground, where it fell open and let them out. One of the cubs was black-furred, and the other white. After a moment of thought I left some meat behind, tearing it into small pieces for them, and then left. I’m not sure what happened to the poor little guys. I hope they’re okay. I sometimes think that one day I’ll meet them again. I really hope I’m right.

For an hour or so I walked around the campsite, rummaging through everything in sight. I found a few more flasks of water, and attached those to my belt. I found a dagger in its sheath and hooked that onto my belt as well. I might as well take advantage of anything they had left behind. I was going to need all the advantages that I could get. I found no more food, although carrying any more sacks would have been a very bad idea anyhow.

I looked around again and realized something. I had no clue where the near-deads had gone. And to make things worse, they had started to cover their tracks after the events that took place the night before. I turned around several times, but saw nothing that would give me any kind of hint. I tried to remember which way they had been headed, but I had no landmarks of any sort to go off of. My memories of the night were foggy and poorly focused. I was lost again.

I sat down and lowered my head. After all this, they were going to escape. By what still shocks me as being amazing luck, I soon found out where they were. As I sat there the two wolf cubs ran up to me and stared at me curiously. I reached over carefully and scratched the black-furred pups head behind his ears. I think they were both male. He looked happy for a moment, and then barked at me. I jumped back a bit then. They stared at me before the white furred cub then barked, and ran a few yards to one direction before stopping and turning to stare at me. The black furred pup followed him.

After a moment I realized that they wanted me to follow. I stood up and walked after them. I may have followed them for hours before, in the distance, I saw something amazing. There was an entire range of mountains visible now. They were huge and jagged, and reminded me of the jaws of a monster of some kind. The most amazing thing of all, though, was the fact that the entire range of jagged peaks was completely covered in darkness. The sun shone bright in the sky, yet on the mountains it looked as if a giant shadow was looming over them, painting them pitch black. The darkness did not touch the ground in any visible place. It was as if the mountains were cursed.

The pups growled for a moment, then looked up at me. I think they smiled, although I didn’t know wolves could do that. They walked away into the distance, probably seeking their pack. I wasn’t sure why they had taken me here, but as soon as I returned my gaze onto the mountains, I suddenly knew.

They were there. These cursed mountains were the home of the near-deads. I was motionless and silent for a moment. Then I walked towards them with my eyes only half open, yet I was completely at attention for any signs of trouble anywhere. Doing so sharpened my hearing. This saved my life only a second later. I heard a faint whistling and dove to the side, unsure of what it was until I saw an arrow sticking into the ground where I had stood moments before. I scrambled to my feet and quickly judged where the arrow had come from by looking at how it stuck into the ground. I looked up into the mountains and then ducked as another flew right above my head.

Archers. They were a problem. A big problem. I had no weapons of any sort that could hit anything at a distance. Or at least I had thought so. As I dove to the side to dodge another projectile, something fell out of my pocket. I grabbed it and held it up for a second. Then I realized that it was my slingshot. I guess I had it in my pocket the day the near-deads attacked. I used to practice with it all the time, shooting seeds at a target for fun. I had almost perfect aim. But seeds weren’t going to do much against a live target.

With no better solutions, though, I ran sideways and slid a seed into place, then pulled back and let go. I’m still wondering how I managed to get the perfect shot there, without even aiming properly. It must have been instinct. At any rate, the seed flew straight right into the range of the mountains and hit the archer. It hit the archer right between his eyes and the impact knocked him out. His footing must have been bad, because then he fell down the mountain. I am glad the near-deads did not bleed, because I might have thrown up if they did.

I looked around now, waiting for any more arrows, but none came. I realized that the near-deads must not be camped on the mountains. They were camped inside of them. I glanced around the wall, looking for any sort of entrance, but did not see any. I pocketed my slingshot and reluctantly reached up towards a rock sticking out of the mountain’s side, about to start climbing. To my shock, my hand went right through it and I stumbled forward into the wall. I passed right through it.

I turned around and saw that instead of an opening behind me, there was a wall of black stone. I reached towards it, but the wall was solid. I wasn’t going to get out the same way I got in. I silently started to walk down the passage I had stumbled into, confused and scared. But I had come this far, and I was ready for anything. I pressed against the wall and held my breath as several near deads started whispering to each other in cracked voices around the corner. I listened to their conversation.

“He is most displeased...” One said, his voice having a snake-like hissing with every word. “Lives, the boy does....” responded the second, growling. “It is not our fault he was not able to find him... It was his fault we were looking for a boy named Zex, when that was not even his name at all...”

I blinked and wondered who they were talking about. I thought about the name “Zex” and realized that those were my initials. Zack Echo Xavier. Zex. I realized with a start that they had been looking for me. The thought was very worrisome.

“But that does not matter..... We burned down the village the boy lived in anyhow... No ones knows how he survived... we killed everyone we saw, except for the one...” The first replied.

I couldn’t handle any more. I drew out the dagger silently and stepped around the corner, taking them out with three quick slashes. They died silently. I wondered who they had left alive. I wondered why they wanted me dead. I wondered what was really going on here. But questions would have to wait. I had come this far so I could kill the one responsible. And now that I was so close to victory, absolutely nothing could stop me.

Nothing.
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Inigo Montoya PWNs.

<td>I like to kill things. You're a thing. I would like to kill you.</td>

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Gan Dragmire
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From now on, the emotion intro will be ditched. I’ve run out of ideas that tie in with what’s going on. After this chapter, the second plot will start, and those will start getting names for each chapter. This one is just chapter 5. And it’s really unimportant, you can skip past it and I can put the entire thing into a few sentences for you at the end.


Chapter 5


Darkness was everywhere along the narrow halls. Light was scarce, and there was barely enough present to see the walls and the floor. The sound of my own breathing echoed eerily in the corridors. The scarce light present had no apparent source, which only rattled my nerves further. I’ve decided that it was unimportant. Regardless, it still scared me.

I continued along the passageways, turning into side tunnels occasionally, but I had not run into anyone or anything since the first group of near-deads. The chances of finding their leader seemed very slim at that point. As I turned around another corner, I suddenly froze and stared at what I had come across.

There was a large door made of blood-stained oak wood in front of me. The doorknob was made of bone, and skulls lined the wall around the door. This seemed to be the most likely place for the Necromancer to be. I suddenly realized what I might be going up against, and the thought was disheartening. I mean this quite literally.

Taking a deep breath, I walked towards the door slowly and cautiously, unsure of what my fate would be. I reached out towards the doorknob, my hand shaking with fear. As my hand clasped the knob and began to turn it, the door suddenly blew off of its hinges and smashed into me, knocking me to the ground. I stood up, shaking off the splintered wood, and looked through the doorway into the room.

What I saw shocked me. I had not expected anything like it. I walked into the room even more cautiously than I had approached the door, not believing what I saw. But no, I had seen correctly. The room was empty. The floor was made of smooth blank stone; the walls were made of bones. But the room itself was completely empty.

Standing in the center of the room, I turned around slowly, searching for any sign of the Necromancer. He had to be in here, where else could he have been? That was when I discovered what his powers were. The discovery was in no way intelligent, and anyone would have been able to figure it out in my situation. A Necromancer suddenly rising out of your shadow and blasting you in the back with a huge amount of shadow energy is a pretty obvious clue, in my opinion.

I smashed into the ground, giving a short cry of pain, and then shakily rose to my feet and turned to face the Necromancer. He was a tall sort of figure with pale skin. He wore black armor, blood stained and coated with spikes. His eyes seemed to glow an evil red as he looked down at me and smiled, showing his sharp and yellowed fang-like teeth.
“This is the great Zex? This is the warrior who would supposedly pose a threat to me?” The Necromancer asked in his raspy and deep voice. “You’re nothing but a child. Just a small, weak, pathetic child.” He laughed, the sound sending shivers down my spine, but I refused to show my fear. I wouldn’t let him have the pleasure of seeing me scared.

Of course, I expected him to soon have the pleasure of killing me, but I wasn’t going to show that either. Unsheathing my sword quickly, I stood ready. Well, as ready as I could really BE, anyhow. He drew his sword as well, and for the first time I saw the horrible blade. The hilt was made of bone, as much of his fortress was. The blade itself was long and jagged, an uneven sharpened hunk of metal. The entire blade was stained with blood. The many shades of red mixed on his sword only gave me the smallest indication of how many people he had personally killed.

As fearsome as both he and the blade were, he seemed to hold it awkwardly. He showed no obvious skill with the blade, and seemed unsure about how to even hold it. I realized that his sword had killed many, but not due to his sword skills. Every battle he won, he had used his shadow powers to defeat his opponent. With a sword, he was nothing. But those powers were what I was scared of to begin with.

As he raised his hand, I wondered what death would be like. As my own shadow loomed up behind me, changing into a wall of needles, I wondered if my death would hurt. And as the needles suddenly flew at my back, I decided that I wasn’t going to find out. Jumping to the side, I narrowly avoided the wall of needles. I had no way to block them or get rid of them. I could do nothing but dodge.
((See... this kind of battle sequence is very hard to do in text...))

I ran towards him, sword ready, as the needles turned to attack me again, this time spreading out a good deal. I slashed diagonally once at his chest, as he swung up his sword to block. But he reacted too late, and the blade sliced straight through his armor and slashed a clean line from his left hip to his right shoulder. He screamed in pain and stepped back, clutching the gash with one hand, but ultimately failing to cover it. No blood, but I wasn’t surprised by that.

In my excitement, I nearly forgot about the needles. They were far too spread out to dodge, and they were about to fly at me. I ran towards the Necromancer as the needles started to move, and jumped at him, flipping. Right before impact I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, swinging myself over him and landing on the floor at his back. The needles rushed towards the Necromancer, but vanished as they touched him.

The burning sensation of pain was suddenly present in my right leg, and I cried out, stepping back. I had landed on the Necromancer’s shadow, and a clawed hand was reached out. My lower leg had several deep and uneven gashes, and the claws dripped with blood. I slashed at the Necromancer’s armored back, the blade cutting into it but not going through completely, as he turned and swung at me with his own bloody sword.

I managed to pull my sword out of his armor as his blade was inches from my throat, and quickly moved my sword to block the slash. I managed to block in time, but the force sent me flying backwards into a wall. I slid down the wall, lying on my back on the floor for a few seconds before I got the energy to stand. The Necromancer was nowhere to be seen.

I pressed my back against the wall with my sword ready, looking around the room. I failed to see anything, but something else told me where he was. Instinct caused me to jump sideways, and as I looked back at where I stood I saw a sword point bury itself into the wall. I had almost lost my head just then.

I dashed towards the now visible Necromancer as he pulled his sword out of the wall. He slashed down at my head, but I rolled under his blade and sprang up with my sword pointed forward. The hit was straight and direct, and the force behind it was considerable. My blade went right through the armor on his chest, and the sword point protruded from his back.

He gasped slightly, his glowing eyes widening, as he stumbled back. He dropped his sword and it hit the ground noisily. He choked on the air as he fell to his knees, his eyes closing. I pulled my sword out as he collapsed, and stumbled backwards. He lay dead on the ground before me, or at least I had thought so.

I noticed then that my sword was coated with a thick black slime. It made no sense to me. The Necromancer had no blood, and yet it seemed that this disgusting substance has been flowing through his body. To make things worse, it was moving. The slime suddenly rushed off of the blade and up my arm, enveloping it and starting to squeeze inwards.

I felt dizzy; the world around me was blurred. The slime squeezed harder as I started to lose consciousness. I fell to the ground, my sword slipping from my hand. As I fell to the floor, I realized that the Necromancer’s body was gone. That was the last thing I was able to recall.

~End of First Tale~




Summary: Zex found the Necromancer, they fought, Zex won, the Necromancer's body vanished, and some black slime enveloped Zex's arm and knocked him out.
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I finally got off my lazy ass and wrote the next chapter! However, I'm gonna have a few people look it over and give suggestions before I post it.
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<td>I like to kill things. You're a thing. I would like to kill you.</td>

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