SWITZERLAND
The Alpenblick Hotel woke with its usual routine. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with warm bread, and the large windows let in the light of the Alpine morning.
Most guests came down to breakfast in slippers or thick scarves, while the employees moved around with the calm and coordination of people who repeat the same tasks every day.
Anna was arranging cups at the counter when Sabine, her coworker, approached with a tray on her shoulder.
"More people showed up earlier than usual today, huh?" Sabine commented, motioning with her eyes toward a family already on their third round of pancakes.
"The mountains do that," Anna replied. "They sleep better, wake up better… and eat twice as much."
Sabine chuckled before walking off.
Anna continued placing silverware, exchanging brief glances with the regular customers. One of them, an older man who came every winter, complained about the weather; Anna only smiled and responded just enough to be polite without extending the conversation.
A few meters away, near the entrance, the Swiss and Australian diplomats finished adjusting their coats while their private guards checked the exit. Anna saw them out of the corner of her eye: perfectly pressed suits, folders of documents, a couple of metal briefcases. Nothing unusual. Probably a meeting in the city. The convoy lined up neatly, and the vehicles left without much fuss.
Anna went back to her tasks: cleaning a table, replacing napkins, asking a child to please stop shaking the salt shaker.
Then the first noise was heard.
A faint metallic tac, dry and distant. Anna looked up, but no one seemed to understand where it came from. Then another came, louder, as if a heavy door had given way somewhere near the parking area.
Sabine frowned.
"What was that?"
"Maybe someone dropped a tray in the kitchen," Anna tried.
The third noise erased any excuses: a gunshot, clear and sharp, inside the building.
The restaurant fell silent. Spoons stopped clinking against plates. A nervous whimper came from somewhere.
Anna felt everything tighten around her, but she didn't have time to process it: from three different hallways, armed men entered the hotel.
It wasn't two or three. It was many. More than a dozen, moving with precision through the hotel.
"Everyone to the main hall! Now!" one yelled in English.
The employees began guiding the guests as best they could.
Anna reacted automatically: she grabbed a woman frozen by fear and pushed her along with the others. Behind them, some terrorists rushed up the stairs, banging on doors, forcing guests out. Another group searched rooms and blocked exits.
Minutes later, the main hall was crowded. Entire families, tourists, employees, even the security guards who had been outnumbered… all seated on the floor, surrounded by armed men watching every move.
Then the leader arrived.
Karli Morgenthau didn't need to shout to impose herself. She walked with firm steps, her cameraman behind her recording every angle. Her right-hand man stayed close, vigilant, while other militants spread around the perimeter.
Her identity? Flag-Smasher 2, leader of the terrorist group ULTIMATUM.
"Good. Everyone's here," Karli said with a firm voice and a marked accent. "Listen carefully: there are bombs placed at multiple points in the hotel. If anyone tries to be a hero… this whole place disappears. You understand, right?"
A wave of nervous murmuring spread among the hostages.
She held up one of the explosives like someone demonstrating a product in a presentation. She smiled, confident.
Behind her, two terrorists shoved the diplomats from the convoy into the hall. Their suits were stained with someone else's blood, messy, but they were alive. One of them had the tense look of someone who tried to fight during the initial shooting and lost within seconds.
Anna swallowed hard. She didn't scream, didn't cry; she just watched, focused on not drawing attention. Next to her, Sabine was rigid. Guests whispered, some trembled, others tried to cover the children.
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The terrorists had already taken full control of the lobby. Hostages were forced to sit in a large group in the center of the hall, hands on their heads. Anna and her friend Sabine sat together, breathing quickly; neither dared speak louder than a whisper.
A few meters away, the diplomats—disheveled and with wrinkled suits—were pushed toward the center. Each division of the armed group had dragged guests out room by room, and now everyone was gathered under the same fear.
Karli walked among them as if inspecting merchandise. Her boots echoed sharply on the marble as she gave orders with small hand gestures. One of her men, tall and wearing a black mask, looked at her for instructions.
"You," Karli said, pointing at the masked man. "The Australian. Bring him here."
"This one?" he asked, grabbing one of the diplomats by the arm.
"That one."
The Australian diplomat, a man in his late forties, tried to keep some dignity while being dragged, but the rough pull made him stumble.
"Please, you're making a—"
A sharp blow to his legs knocked the air out of him. The man fell to his knees with a choked cry.
Anna shut her eyes, and Sabine gripped her arm, trembling.
"This can't be happening…" Anna whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Quiet," one of the terrorists warned without even looking at them.
The diplomat tried to regain his composure despite the evident pain.
"You're… you're making a mistake. You don't know what you're provo—"
Karli silenced him with a strike of her rifle butt to his mouth. The crack was sharp. The man collapsed forward, holding his face as he began to sob; blood and two teeth splattered onto the polished floor.
Karli turned her head toward the cameraman, who was already setting up the tripod and checking the equipment.
"Ready?" she asked.
The cameraman raised his hand and made a countdown with his fingers: three… two… one…
He gave the signal. They were live.
Flag-Smasher gripped the weapon with both hands, pressing the barrel to the diplomat's temple, almost posing with him. Her voice was firm and cold.
"Attention. This message is for the Swiss government, for their allies… and for anyone who still pretends they can ignore us." She let her gaze sweep over the hostages, as if reinforcing that each of them was a living argument. "We have full control of the hotel. One hundred and twenty-six hostages. Three diplomats and a dozen bombs placed strategically throughout this damn building. We will not negotiate. We will not beg. You will meet our demands or we will begin executing the representatives and every civilian you see here."
The diplomat whimpered involuntarily. Karli pressed her boot against him to force him to stay upright.
"Every minute you waste," she continued, "will be your responsibility. No one else's."
She looked sideways at the cameraman, then directly into the lens.
"Confirm you received our conditions. You have ten minutes to respond."
The video ended when the cameraman stopped the transmission with a quick gesture.
In the lobby, silence fell like a weight. Only ragged breaths and the terrorists' footsteps could be heard.
Anna swallowed. Sabine rested her forehead on her knees.
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The official response came five minutes after the broadcast. A terrorist with a makeshift earpiece approached Karli and nodded.
"They confirmed," he informed her. "They say… to remain calm. That the appropriate channels are being organized."
She let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"Calm down?" she scoffed, turning to her men. "Sure. Let us sit quietly while they decide whether we exist or not."
But still, she acknowledged the message. Her group remained firm, guarding the hostages.
Twenty minutes later, the hotel was completely surrounded: flashing blue lights, tactical silhouettes moving, long rifles aimed. From a side door, a terrorist stepped out with his hands slightly raised —just enough to avoid being shot— and tossed a phone to the ground before running back inside.
A police officer picked it up. It was immediately taken to an improvised tent where the negotiation team was already set up.
There was tension in the air. They were professionals, yes… but they were facing a situation that could explode at any second. The chief negotiator, a woman in her fifties, took a deep breath and connected the line.
"This is Commander Meier speaking. We're here to listen to you," she said, firm but controlled.
The call connected. Static, interference… and finally Flag-Smasher's voice, cold and direct.
"Pay attention. We want the governments of Australia and Switzerland to sign our declaration… complete. No revisions, no negotiations, no commentary. In it, they publicly admit their role in maintaining global corrupt systems, in subjecting nations to their economic interests, and in funding policies that destroy national identities. And we want that declaration broadcast internationally."
Meier took notes. She didn't interrupt. She had to let her vent everything before responding.
"Alright. You're asking for an official acknowledgment," she replied slowly. "I can relay that, but I need to be honest: government decisions take time. It's not possible—"
Karli interrupted her with a slam on the table, so loud the microphone captured it as a harsh crack.
"THERE IS NO TIME. You have two hours! Two hours to make it public or we start executing people. I am not repeating myself."
Meier closed her eyes for a moment. Her team watched her.
"I understand your position," she said, "but you're asking for something that legally cannot happen in two hours. Not even in ten. It is impossible for two governments to sign a document like that under threat. It doesn't work that way."
"Oh, it's going to work now!" Karli shouted. "Because if not, corpses will act as signatures."
Meier switched strategies. She stopped reasoning and tried to connect emotionally.
"Listen to me. You know that doing something irreversible like killing hostages doesn't bring you closer to your goals. It pushes them away. You want to send a message, right? Fine. As long as the hostages are alive, you have power. If you kill them, you lose it. Because then negotiation stops. Intervention begins."
There was silence on the other end. Not long, but enough to show Karli was processing it.
"We're not here to negotiate power," she answered at last, calmer but with a far more dangerous tone. "I'm here to expose them. To show the world who they really are. And if my message needs blood to be heard… then it will have it."
One of Meier's operators shook his head, worried.
The commander insisted, without losing firmness:
"If you act like this, everyone will die. You won't have control of the narrative. You still have time to manage this so it doesn't end in a massacre."
Karli laughed.
"Still? Commander, we passed that point the moment you stepped foot here. Or do you think I don't know you're surrounding the hotel? That I don't know you're just buying time for your people?"
Meier gestured to the tactical team to halt their advance. They had to avoid provoking her further.
"Please," she said more softly. "We can work together to find a way that doesn't end with more deaths. But I need a sign of good faith. Release one hostage. Just one. An injured person, or a child, or—"
"NO. I'm not giving anything," Kat snapped. "If I make concessions, we lose strength. You're not understanding. This isn't a conversation: it's an ultimatum."
Anna, from among the hostages, watched the Australian diplomat tugging at his tie, pale, breathing heavily. Sabine gripped her hand to calm her.
Meier noticed the shift in tone. She leaned forward, almost desperate:
"I'm asking you not to make impulsive decisions. I'm asking not as a commander. I'm asking as a person. Don't approach any host—"
Too late.
Kat screamed through the phone:
"You think this is a game?! You think I won't do it?"
She grabbed the diplomat by the suit and dragged him, separating him from the group. He fell to his knees with a strangled cry.
"This isn't going anywhere!" he begged. "You're making a mistake, please—!"
A terrorist tried to intervene.
"Boss, maybe we should—"
"SHUT UP!" she screamed without even looking at him.
Anna recoiled as the negotiator's voice became almost a plea:
"Don't do this. We can keep talking. We can—"
Inside the lobby, Anna watched with her heart tightened. The atmosphere was a knot of muffled whimpers, trembling breaths… And then she saw something she couldn't understand.
Right in front of her, on the shiny floor, a thin line of small blocks —Legos? Toy pieces?— was forming on its own, piece by piece, as if someone invisible were placing them at impossible speed. They moved in a pattern she couldn't understand… until she realized the line was encircling them all, forming a large ring around the hostages.
"What…?" she whispered.
Sabine noticed too, but had no time to react: her breath caught when Karli placed the gun barrel on the Australian's neck.
A terrorist guarding nearby noticed the line and frowned.
"Tsk… damn brats and their crappy toys," he muttered, giving one piece a small kick. It didn't move. It was as if it were glued to the floor.
Anna followed the second line that advanced at surprising speed, this one shooting straight toward the diplomat. She didn't have time to think about what it meant. Everything happened too quickly.
On the phone, Kat continued screaming.
"You're mocking me, Meier! Tell me the truth! You think I'll hesitate? You think I won't do what I said?"
The diplomat sobbed openly, trying to speak between cries.
"Please… please, no… This is a mistake… Not—"
"Shut up!" Kat yelled, shoving him to the floor.
The hostages, paralyzed, watched through tears.
The negotiator in the tent pressed her earpiece tightly.
"Listen to me. No one is provoking you. We want to resolve this without casualties. Think of the lives depending on your decisions. Think—"
"Think?" Karli began laughing, the sound growing more hysterical each second. "I'm telling you to do what we asked! What part don't you understand?!"
Anna watched the line of pieces climbing up the diplomat's body. Something was happening, but the image was so surreal that her brain couldn't connect the dots.
As for Karli, she didn't give anyone a single second.
Without letting go of the phone, with her scream frozen mid-air, she raised her weapon and fired five quick shots into the diplomat's torso.
The blast echoed through the walls.
The hostages screamed; some covered their faces, others collapsed in fear. A few tried to stand, but the terrorists shoved and struck them to keep them quiet.
Outside, in the negotiation tent, everyone felt the impact. Two members grabbed their heads; another slammed a fist on the table in helpless rage.
"No, no, no!" one of the analysts exclaimed, stumbling away from the screen.
Karli brought the phone back to her mouth, panting.
"If you don't want another one to fall, you'd better do EXACTLY what I say," she threatened. "You've got five minutes to think about what you just caused."
And she hung up.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Anna couldn't look away from the fallen body… nor from the small pieces still attached to the man's torso and the other line that surrounded the hostages.
Karli lowered her weapon, took a deep breath, and ran a hand down her face. Slowly, she seemed to regain control. With a quick gesture, she signaled her people.
"Bring me a beer…" she muttered. "This is gonna be long."
One of the terrorists was already turning when Karli froze.
Her eyes locked on the body of the Australian diplomat.
"…What…?" she whispered, stepping forward.
The man lay face-down, still, but something was wrong.
There was no blood.
None.
Five shots at that distance should've created a pool. A torrent. But the shirt only showed dark bullet holes, no dampness. Karli frowned and called two more over.
"Come here. Something's… off."
The three bent down, confused.
"Boss? This doesn't make any sense," one muttered, narrowing his eyes, noticing that inside the bullet holes there were some kind of multicolored squares. "What the—?"
Another raised a trembling hand.
"And… what's that?"
Karli followed his gaze.
A thin line of colorful pieces—Legos—was attached to the diplomat's body. A makeshift plastic serpent climbing up the man's torso.
"What the hell…?" Karli breathed.
She followed the line with her eyes. It was so thin she hadn't noticed it in the chaos, but now, looking closely, she realized it surrounded the hostages.
A perfect circle, as if someone had placed them piece by piece.
Anna felt a chill. She understood nothing, but she had seen that line forming earlier… almost on its own, like it was alive.
And she didn't have time to think.
Karli understood something.
"We're being—!"
"You've got good intuition," interrupted a calm, masculine voice with a faintly mocking tone.
The terrorists spun instantly. Some raised their guns, searching for the intruder. Others stepped back, nervous. The voice had echoed from somewhere in the room… yet from nowhere at all.
"Who said that?" one growled.
Karli clenched her teeth. She raised her rifle toward the hostages and shouted:
"FIRE! NOW!"
Several triggers were pulled at once. Full bursts.
But the bullets never arrived.
With a sharp crack, the Lego line around the hostages rose like a wave. The pieces locked together at absurd speed.
In less than a blink, a gigantic dome of multicolored Legos rose up, solid like a fortress.
Bullets pinged off it in a frantic clatter.
TAC-TAC-TAC-TAC-TAC!
The terrorists stumbled back, stunned. One fell on his butt, staring at his rifle like it was defective.
"What the hell IS THIS?!" one shouted.
"KEEP FIRING! ALL OF YOU!" Karli roared.
And they did. They emptied magazines at the impossible structure. But the hostages weren't the only ones inside a dome. A few meters away, another identical structure rose around the wounded diplomat, trapping him safely inside as well.
It was as if the entire hotel was being invaded by toys.
Anna trembled, hugging herself while the entire room shook. Some children cried, but the sound was muted inside their improvised fortress.
A soft laugh echoed from somewhere high above.
"Woah, woah… that was a bit extreme, wasn't it? I came to help, not to join a shootout."
==========================================================
The crowd trapped inside the dome was still shaking. Children cried against their parents' chests, and the adults tried to hide their own fear behind a tense, suffocating silence. Every impact outside made the structure vibrate slightly, provoking fresh sobs.
Then, in front of them, something began to move.
Small bricks—red, blue, yellow—started emerging from the inner wall of the dome. First tiny dots, then lines, then pieces snapping together with soft, playful clicks. People stepped back, some instinctively shielding the children, not understanding what was happening.
Within seconds, four massive Lego dinosaurs finished assembling before them. A T-Rex shakily swinging its head, an overly energetic triceratops, an excited raptor, and a long-necked giant tapping the floor like a drum.
All of them stayed attached to the structure by bricks linking them to the wall.
The children froze… but not in fear.
In awe.
A murmur spread through the crowd.
And then, on the same wall, right above the dinosaurs, the pieces moved again—forming something different: a face. A friendly, rectangular expression with green Lego-piece eyes.
The face tilted slightly and spoke in a deep, calm, reassuring voice.
"Easy, okay?" it said. "Everything's fine. I'm here now."
Below the giant face, the Omnitrix symbol appeared. Some hostages recognized it immediately.
It was Legion.
Gasps filled the dome. Some adults cried in relief. Others laughed in nervous release. Many collapsed into hugs. A man covered his face, laughing shakily. A girl whispered "thank you" without knowing exactly who she meant.
Bloxx turned his Lego eyes toward the children, who had now stepped closer, mesmerized by the giant dinosaurs.
"I'm gonna be a little busy," he warned softly, "but I brought some friends to keep you entertained while I stop the bad guys."
The dinosaurs reacted instantly. The raptor crouched as if inviting them to climb; the triceratops bobbed its head playfully; the long-necked giant lowered itself and released a shower of loose bricks the children scooped up with giggles.
"Behave, okay?" Bloxx added, giving them a wink made of two curved Lego pieces.
The kids nodded happily. The adults, still trembling, couldn't help smiling—some even laughing through tears as they watched their children run among the dinosaurs.
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The gunfire thundered like repeated explosions. A burst, then another, then another. Metallic echoes, distant screams, a sharp crack. Commander Meier felt her blood freeze.
"No… no, NO!" she shouted in horror, grabbing her earpiece. "Move in! ALL OF YOU! NOW! THERE'S NO MORE TIME!"
The special squads didn't wait for a second command. They surged forward through the complex's shattered entrance—breaking doors, rushing down hallways, pushing like a desperate wave toward the hostages.
Boots hammered the ground. Weapons ready. Adrenaline peaking.
When they reached the large hall used as the hostage room, the first line stopped dead.
A strange silence spread through them.
Agents in the back pushed forward, confused.
"WHY ARE YOU STOPPING?!" Meier roared from the hallway, forcing her way through her men. "I said—!"
But as she stepped through the doorway, she froze too.
The whole scene looked like a dream.
Or madness.
Every terrorist—every one of them, including Flag-Smasher 2 (Karli)—lay unconscious on the ground, breathing but fully immobilized… inside large Lego-made cocoons that secured them completely.
Some cocoons were red and blue; others yellow and white.
Their weapons were several meters away, also wrapped in cube-shaped brick structures.
Meier lowered her weapon, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified.
"What… the hell…?" she whispered.
But the shock wasn't over.
As she looked up, she saw the hostages. All safe. Some adults cried in each other's arms; others laughed nervously as they watched their kids running through the room.
Because the children…
The children were playing.
Playing with four enormous Lego dinosaurs, clumsy and adorable, making hollow plastic clack-clack noises as they moved.
Laughter filled the hall.
Parents—still tear-streaked—smiled despite themselves.
And then she saw him.
A humanoid figure made entirely of blocks, leaning casually against a pillar. His body was robust and squared, made of interlocking plates; his arms were segmented in red, blue, and yellow bricks; his face was simple but expressive, with green eyes that shone like polished pieces. His stance was relaxed.
He watched the children with a smile, fingers made of square bricks tapping idly against his arm.
Meier blinked, stunned.
"It can't be…" she murmured, on the verge of hysterical laughter.
While the special forces remained frozen in disbelief, a shaky man in a suit stumbled between them. His tie was crooked, his shirt drenched in sweat.
"C-Commander Meier," the Swiss diplomat said, voice trembling. "You… you must know what happened inside."
Meier, still staring at the block-made figure, nodded for him to continue.
"That being… appeared without warning. Everything happened so fast." He swallowed hard. "He protected all of us. Neutralized the attackers in seconds. And… I think it's Legion. Or at least that's what I thought when I saw the logo on his chest. But… I've never seen him take that form. Ever. I didn't know he could… be that."
Meier inhaled deeply, processing. Then raised her hand, giving a clear signal to her team.
"Cover me."
Her tone was rock-solid.
"But no aggression. No one points a weapon. Just stay alert… in case he makes any sudden move. We don't know if he's an ally or a threat."
The agents nodded, forming a careful semicircle—no barrels raised, but every muscle tense.
Meier walked toward the figure.
Bloxx kept watching the children, unbothered, until he noticed her approach. He turned slightly, his green eyes glowing with recognition.
When he spoke, his voice was deep, modulated… yet courteous.
"Commander Meier, correct?" He gave a blocky, respectful bow. "Legion. A pleasure. And… apologies for the abrupt entrance."
Meier stopped two meters away. Not close enough to endanger herself; not far enough to seem afraid.
Legion continued:
"I happened to be passing through the area. And… well, I couldn't help giving a hand." He lifted a hand made of interlocking pieces. "I would've liked to announce myself beforehand, but the situation required speed and subtlety."
Meier frowned thoughtfully.
"As far as I know," she said slowly, "Legion doesn't possess this… 'appearance.'"
Bloxx lowered his gaze with something like a chuckle.
"I understand," he replied. "This transformation is called Bloxx. A more… creative form, let's say. But if you'll excuse me for a moment."
He turned toward the children, who were still laughing and hugging the Lego dinosaurs.
Bloxx knelt before them; the dinosaurs moved closer like giant pets.
"Kids…" he said gently, "I'm sorry, but my friends and I have to go now, okay?"
A chorus of protests erupted. Some kids hugged the dinosaur legs; others pouted.
"I know you don't want to," Legion said patiently. "But just like you need to go back to your families… they need to go back home too."
The kids exchanged glances. Some were about to cry.
But finally—they agreed.
One by one, they hugged the dinosaurs, saying goodbye as if leaving lifelong playmates.
Parents watched, crying and smiling at once.
One child whispered:
"Thank you for saving us…"
Bloxx placed a huge square hand on his head, tenderly.
"Thank you for being so brave."
The dinosaurs—and everything else—began to disassemble into hundreds of pieces that streamed toward Bloxx's body, integrating into his torso, arms, and legs.
Within seconds, where massive creatures had stood… only the hero remained.
Legion stood, gave the children one last look, and walked toward Meier.
As he approached, he casually pressed the green hourglass symbol on his chest.
A red flash engulfed him.
The blocks dissolved into light. His silhouette shrank. Colors shifted into a humanoid shape.
By the time he reached Meier, Legion was himself again: human form, armor, helmet, and the iconic emblem on his chest.
"Now then, Commander," he said with a small, tired smile behind his helmet, "we can talk."
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I KNOW WHAT I SAID, BUT I THOUGHT IT WAS APPROPRIATE TO DO SOMETHING LIKE AN INTRO? A HEROIC ACT BEFORE THE MINI EVENTS, LIKE THE TALK AND EVERYTHING ELSE, AND THAT I CAN ASSURE YOU WILL BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.
I'LL ALSO EXPLAIN A BIT ABOUT THE WATCH AND THIS NEW TRANSFORMATION. AFTER FIVE MONTHS, SOMETHING MUST HAVE ADVANCED IN HIS JOURNEY TO TRY TO DISCOVER HOW ONE OF THE MOST IMPRESSIVE PIECES OF TECHNOLOGY IN FICTION WORKS, RIGHT?
TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT. I ALSO HAVE A PROPOSAL FOR YOU: A SPECIAL. I DON'T KNOW HOW THINGS ARE IN OTHER COUNTRIES, BUT IN ARGENTINA, CHRISTMAS IS VERY CLOSE, SO I THOUGHT—WHY NOT A CHRISTMAS SPECIAL? IF WE REACH A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF REVIEWS, I'LL RELEASE IT ON DECEMBER 25TH (ARGENTINA TIME). AND IF NOT, WELL, I'LL TAKE MY TIME AND SEE WHEN I GIVE IT TO YOU. HOW MANY REVIEWS? I'LL TELL YOU IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, SINCE I DON'T WANT TO GIVE A NUMBER THAT'S TOO HIGH OR TOO SMALL. WHY AM I ASKING FOR THIS? I UNDERSTAND IT HELPS WITH THE ALGORITHM OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. I DON'T KNOW. BE HONEST. AS I ADVANCE WITH THE CHAPTERS, I'VE FELT MORE COMFORTABLE WITH THE WRITING, BUT IF I WANT TO IMPROVE, I MUST BE AWARE OF MY FLAWS.
OH, I ALMOST FORGOT: I'LL TAKE INTO ACCOUNT THE TOTAL NUMBER OF REVIEWS FROM BOTH, ENGLISH AND SPANISH. HOWEVER, NO CHEATING — YOU CAN ONLY LEAVE ONE REVIEW ON ONE VERSION. I'LL BE KEEPING AN EYE ON IT.
THAT'S ALL FOR NOW. TAKE CARE AND KISSES :)
P.S.: 4821 WORDS. I'M AMAZING.