To Otto Suwen, Satoru Gojo was not a simple human opponent but a natural disaster.
Having survived a number of different deadly situations, Otto had developed a very healthy, extremely practical respect for things that could kill him without trying.
It practically went without saying that Gojo sat near the top pinnacle of that list.
When Abel requested a plan to deal with the white-haired abnormality, Otto didn't suggest a weapon, a spell, or a vanguard.
Instead, he sat in the war room, staring at the map of Lupagana, and put up a strategy based solely on containment, prediction, and psychological friction.
"Gojo-san's power is simply too massive to be quiet," Otto explained, pointing a finger at the center of the map. "Even when he isn't fighting, not even his overwhelming control is enough to fully suppress his existence. His very presence causes the wildlife to panic. The birds flee, the insects burrow, and the lesser-spirits scream. My Divine Protection allows me to hear those screams."
Abel merely acknowledged Otto's words with a calm nod. Someone with his intellect didn't need much more of an explanation of the merchant's ability.
"So you'll know where he is the entire time. Even with his absurd technique that allows him to teleport."
Hearing Abel's words, Otto nodded, though his expression remained tense.
"Unless he warps completely across the nation, then yes. Although I'm not too sure of his limits on how far he can teleport… perhaps if Natsuki-san were here, he would know."
"There is no need to worry about things that cannot be controlled," Abel said, shaking his head dismissively. "Either way, Subaru will be here soon. That is already confirmed."
Put in the most simple manner from those remarks, there was little reason to worry.
There was currently absolutely nothing stopping Gojo from embarking on a murdering rampage but the fact that he hadn't yet shows he wasn't too ridiculously far gone psychologically.
As of right now, that was their only saving grace.
"There are only two people who can suppress or fight against Satoru Gojo if he were to take things seriously," Abel said, raising two fingers. "Arakiya has already shown she has the capability to face the anomaly for long durations on an even level. Cecilus is even more powerful than the former, but the problem is…"
Otto's brows furrowed, a look of grim understanding appearing on his face.
"…One is an enemy, and the other's whereabouts have been completely unknown for the entire duration of the war."
Abel averted his gaze, narrowing his eyes slightly behind his mask.
Otto calmly continued. "The biggest problem, of course, is the fact he is untouchable by almost any means…"
Despite the somber talk, and despite the whole thought of winning over both the Five Bastions and Satoru Gojo sounding practically impossible to conquer, Otto's expression did not slip to despair.
"Which is why we do not have to defeat him in a physical battle."
Abel gazed at him, an intrigued look on his face. "His mental state is clearly fragile, but pushing him too far could merely worsen things for us. But you have shown beneficial thus far, so I will grant you permission to explain."
Otto only let out a brief, tired sigh at Abel's comments.
Suddenly, he winced, raising a palm to his forehead. A tiny, dark line of blood began to stream from his left nostril. He instantly grabbed into his pocket, bringing out a crumpled tissue to steadily dab at the blood.
"Otto-san!" Petra gasped, stepping closer to the table. Her hands clutched the edge of the wood, her eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay? You're pushing your Divine Protection too hard again, aren't you?"
"I'm... I'm fine, Petra-chan," Otto muttered through the tissue, his voice slightly muffled. "It's just... the noise. The capital is miles away, but the spirits near the outer walls are absolutely hysterical right now. Gojo-san is currently facing off with a green-haired man I haven't seen before... and it's not exactly pretty——"
"That would likely be Kafma Irulux, a Second-Class General," Abel said, his voice bland. "Despite his ranking, he denied the opportunity to become one of the Nine Divine Generals, but he certainly would belong among them in terms of strength."
Understanding Abel's brief explanation of the one Gojo was squaring off against, it just made things appear more dramatic.
Petra looked down at the map, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "Gojo-sama... is he really fighting for the people who hurt everyone? Why is he doing this? We have to get to him."
"But we can't get to him if he vaporizes us first," Al muttered from the back of the room. "The kid's right. We need a buffer."
"Exactly," Otto said, pulling the bloody tissue away from his nose. His face was pale, but his eyes were sharp. "There's little time, so this is where you'll come in, Garfiel-san."
Garfiel, who had been tapping his foot impatiently against the stone floor, perked up instantly upon hearing his name.
"Ha! About darn time! What do ya want from me, Otto? I'm ready to smash whatever wall that blindfold-bastard puts up!"
Otto raised his hand, his expression incredibly grave.
"Just… last as long as possible. You don't have to fight him head-on, Garfiel-san. In fact, I strictly forbid you from trying to trade blows with him. Instead, break that wall through any means possible and——"
"Wait, 'break the wall'?" Garfiel blinked, his golden eyes narrowing in confusion. "How'm I supposed to break his barrier if it's untouchable, huh?"
"Not his physical barrier," Otto corrected, pointing to his own temple. "His mind. Gojo-san is currently not himself. He is trying to play a role because he has no memories of his own. If you fight him, talk to him. Remind him of the 'old' Gojo. Mention Natsuki-san. Mention the Kingdom. Every time he hesitates, every time his mask slips, his focus will waver. We don't need to beat him, Garfiel-san. We just need to make him hesitate until Natsuki-san arrives."
Garfiel stared at Otto for a long period, the enthusiastic grin slowly vanishing from his face, replaced with a serious, heavy nod.
He snapped his knuckles, his fangs bared.
"Yeah... yeah, I get it," Garfiel snarled, his emerald eyes flaming. "The Cap'n is the only one who can genuinely reach him. I'll be the best damn decoy y'ever seen, Otto. I'll make him babble till his head spins."
——————————————————————
Underneath his confident, bared-fang sneer, Garfiel's chest burned with a wild, chaotic mix of adrenaline and pure, undiluted wrath.
He was afraid. His instincts were screaming at him to turn around and run until his legs gave out. The sheer, stifling depth of the power pouring from the white-haired child was unlike almost anything he had ever felt.
But more than the terror, Garfiel was enraged.
Subaru had talked about this guy, and he had experienced it firsthand too.
Back in the Kingdom, the Cap'n had spoken of Satoru Gojo with a kind of quiet, reverent awe. He was the strongest. An unbreakable, smiling wall who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and made everyone around him feel safe just by existing. Garfiel had appreciated the guy who propped up the Cap'n's sky.
But looking at him now?
This wasn't a hero. This wasn't a teacher. This was merely a hollow, trembling brat who was running away from his own shadow. He had all the power of a god, but his eyes were entirely vacant, filled with a sad, desperate self-loathing.
To Garfiel, it was a betrayal. It was an affront to the Cap'n's trust, and it made his fury boil hotter than the southern sun.
If you're gonna be the guy the Cap'n believes in, then don't you dare stand there crying like a kicked pup!
Garfiel kept his eyes fixated on Gojo, but his mouth slid slightly to the side, addressing the battered insect-man behind him.
"Hey, bug-guy. Still got some fight left in those wings of yours, or are y'just plannin' on decoratin' the dirt?"
Kafma let out a thick, rattling breath, the dark blood streaming from his chin as he pulled his posture straight. "A rebel…? Why are you interfering in the Empire's defense?"
"Tch, don't flatter yourself," Garfiel spat, not taking his eyes off Gojo's glowing blue gaze. "My awesome self's advisor told me to keep this white-haired bastard busy. And my spectacular self doesn't let tough guys get squashed like bugs——no offense."
"I do not require your pity," Kafma rasped, his chitinous fingers clenching into weak, trembling fists. "I am a tool of the throne. My survival is secondary to the delay."
"Yeah, yeah, 'tool' this, 'tool' that. You Vollachians really got some loose screws in yer heads, aye?" Garfiel bared his fangs, his muscles tensing as he prepared to spring. "A man's a man, not a damn hammer! If y'can still stand, then shut up and help me swing!"
"Enough already...!"
The air pressure in the crater dropped to absolute zero.
The universe surrounding Gojo's little, floating figure distorted fiercely, the physical laws of gravity bending as a suffocatingly thick aura of cursed energy exploded around him.
"I'm sick of hearing it," Gojo whispered. "Tool. Shield. Hero. Friend. You all just keep talking and talking about things that don't matter."
He raised both hands, his fingers interlocking in a quick, trained motion.
"If you want to stand in my way so badly… then I'll just erase both of you at once."
Chills suddenly rushed up Garfiel's spine. His instincts shouted at him, and he threw himself sideways a nanosecond before the place where he had been standing instantly imploded.
Staggering as he caught himself, Garfiel's green pupils shriveled into pinpricks.
Gojo was already there. He was no more than two meters away, running low against the stone surface of the wall, his movement a blur of white and blue.
Instantly, Garfiel's forearm bracers crashed together as he braced for the blow.
"Hkk——!"
The power behind the strike was undeniable.
Garfiel felt the shockwave blow through his entire body, puncturing the stone wall underneath his feet.
However…
With a strong stomp of his foot, Garfiel rotated his weight, pinning himself to the ground beneath him.
He tightened his teeth against the pressure.
"Yer not as strong as I remember!!" Garfiel yelled, a wild, defiant grin stretching across his face as he craned his neck.
"———"
Gojo didn't bother with a response, rather, his visage remained a mask of cold annoyance as his fist lunged forward, aiming right for Garfiel's neck.
Garfiel shifted to slip the punch, but the Six Eyes grasped the subtle shift in his weight with seamless ease.
A feint…?!
Before Garfiel could adjust his defense, Gojo's true blow smacked him solidly in the abdomen. The blow knocked the air completely from Garfiel's lungs, sending him staggering backward, gasping for breath.
Utilizing his Divine Protection as he tripped, Garfiel plunged his mana into the stone through his feet.
The ground where Gojo was sprinting suddenly crumbled inward, plunging into a jagged abyss of tumbling debris.
"Are you stupid, or what?"
Gojo's high-pitched voice rung out as he simply floated over the collapse of the rubble, completely ignoring gravity.
He rotated in mid-air, his movement defying inertia, and closed the gap instantly.
"GAAAAGKK——!"
Vomiting a shower of crimson, Garfiel felt Gojo's fist drive itself deep into his ribcage.
The sound of shattering bone was sickeningly loud. But, before Garfiel could properly fall, the strong, magnetic tug of Lapse: Blue dragged him straight back into Gojo's hands, trapping him in place for a second attack at the exact same injured region.
With a singular, smooth step, Gojo pushed himself off the air itself, doing a tight, aerial spin where his outstretched leg smacked straight into Garfiel's neck in dramatic fashion.
The strike launched him, of course, sending him soaring like a cannonball, blasting straight through the air and over the edge of the battalion wall toward the hard earth far below.
"Seriously?" Gojo muttered, his eyes drifting sideways.
Something sharp immediately whistled toward his flank. Gojo found himself wanting to scoff. He had thoroughly beaten the golden-haired brat, and the green-haired bastard too.
Did these people simply not learn? They could not overcome the Infinity.
"…Your time is not yet over, warrior!"
Kafma's raspy voice echoed through the dust. A jagged, pressurized gust of wind blasted directly in front of Gojo, kicking up a massive mountain of stone debris to obscure his vision.
Gojo flexed his hand and swiped his arm, wasting no time at all in dispersing the smoke cover with a localized burst of gravity.
"Well, isn't that just hilarious…"
Gojo rolled his eyes at the sight before him.
At the edge of the wall, Garfiel was already back on his feet, coughing up blood but standing tall, his shoulder supporting a heavily bleeding Kafma. Side by side, the two battered warriors prepared to face him once more.
But they didn't wait for him to make the first move.
"Bug-guy! Left!" Garfiel roared.
With a savage stomp, Garfiel channeled his Divine Protection. The stone wall beneath Gojo's feet violently erupted, transforming into a pair of massive, jagged stone jaws that clamped shut around him.
At the exact same instant, Kafma's remaining wings buzzed with a deafening shriek. He launched himself forward, his right arm thrusting straight through the center of the stone jaws.
It was a flawless, split-second coordination.
But it was entirely useless.
The stone jaws and Kafma's swiping strike shattered into a fine, glittering powder the millisecond they touched the invisible barrier of the Infinity.
The absolute space surrounding Gojo remained completely untouched.
"Too slow." Gojo whispered.
Before Kafma could even register the failure, Gojo's hand shot out from his pocket.
A sudden pull of gravity opened directly behind Kafma.
The insect-general was violently yanked backward, his balance completely shattered. Gojo stepped into the vacuum, his small fist condensing space as he drove it straight into Kafma's chest.
The remaining chitin armor on Kafma's torso imploded, the brutal shockwave blowing straight through his back and spraying a mist of dark green blood into the air.
"Can't keep my promise, to ya, Otto!"
Garfiel lunged from the dust, his arms fully beastified, his claws gleaming with a savage golden mana. He swung a wild, horizontal slash aimed at Gojo's neck.
Gojo didn't even look. He simply tilted his head back, letting the claws scrape against the empty space of his Infinity.
With a fluid, mocking motion, Gojo grabbed Garfiel's wrist, twisted his own body, and threw the demi-human over his shoulder.
Garfiel hit the stone wall hard, but he didn't let go. Gritting his teeth, he used his raw, physical weight to drag Gojo down with him, his claws digging desperately into the stone to anchor them both.
"You can't drag something you can't touch."
"Now, bug-guy!" Garfiel screamed, blood bubbling past his fangs.
Kafma, hovering on shredded wings, used the last of his strength to fire a concentrated, high-velocity barrage of toxic needles directly at Gojo's exposed face.
Gojo's eyes flickered.
Before suddenly, he clasped them together.
The space around them violently compressed. The needles, Garfiel, and Kafma were all dragged into a single, crushing point of gravity.
The two warriors collided with a loud impact, their bones groaning under the immense pressure before Gojo casually released the technique, sending them both tumbling across the ruined wall in a heap of blood, dust, and broken stone.
They were thoroughly dismantled. Their bodies were a map of fractures, bruises, and deep, bleeding gashes.
Yet, through sheer, stubborn willpower, they dragged themselves back up. Garfiel spit out a mouthful of blood, his green eyes wide and wild, while Kafma leaned heavily against the ground, his breathing a ragged, wet whistle.
Gojo floated a few inches off the ground, his hands resting lazily back in his pockets. He looked down at them, his expression completely vacant.
"You're an even better punching bag than Subaru, you know, Garf-san~" Gojo mocked, his voice dripping with a cruel, childish playfulness.
Garfiel's eyes instantly contracted. The wild, beast-like grin vanished from his face, replaced by a cold, murderous fury.
"Ha… is that right…?" Garfiel whispered, his voice shaking. "You think you can mock the Cap'n like that, y'damn coward…?"
"Just the same damn one-liners every time. Be more original, please…" Gojo scoffed, resting his hands back in his pockets.
"He's ten of the man you are, ya bastard!" Garfiel roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the capital. "All this strength, 'n for what?! To stand here 'n run away from reality like a damn COWARD?!"
Gojo's fist subtly tightened inside his pocket. For a fraction of a second, his face twisted into a grimace of pure rage.
Then, his hand loosened.
A small, hollow smile appeared on his face as he raised his head, his white bangs parting to reveal the brilliant, mad glow of his eyes.
"Haha… ha… a coward," Gojo dryly laughed. "I mean, yeah. You'd be right, I suppose. But what can I do? The old me just gets on my fucking nerves to the point where it makes my skin crawl…"
"What're ya…"
"A coward, a slave, a monster, a loser… maybe I am all of those things. But I can't help it…" He tilted his neck. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask for my best friend to die. And I DEFINITELY didn't ask for a bunch of desperate bastards to chase me across the world, crying about a person who doesn't even exist anymore!"
Garfiel snarled, but his green eyes remained incredibly sharp. He looked at the trembling child floating before him, seeing right through the terrifying aura of power.
"You say that," Garfiel said, his voice dropping into a low, heavy register. "But ya didn't quite talk this much until after the Cap'n was brought up… yer a damn liar, Gojo. To us, and to yerself."
The small, hollow smile on Gojo's face completely fell.
For a split second, the infinite blue in his pupils dimmed, replaced by a dark shadow of pure, unadulterated confusion.
It was to the point where even the Infinity fluctuated as his brain trembled.
It was a microscopic error. A single, split-second lapse in his absolute defense. But to a person like Garfiel, whose senses were honed to the absolute limit, the shift was as loud as a thunderclap.
A stray piece of stone debris, previously suspended in the air inches from Gojo's shoulder, suddenly lost its suspension and clattered harmlessly against the dirt.
Gojo looked down at his own small, pale hands. His fingers trembled slightly before he balled them into fists and shoved them back into his pockets.
"A liar..." Gojo whispered. "You think... you think you know him?" His head snapped up, his white bangs parting to reveal eyes that were wide and completely frantic. "You think because he cried and screamed my name, I'm supposed to just... fall in line? Play the nice teacher? Play the hero?!"
He took a single step forward, the anguish on his face the most prominent emotion of them all.
"I don't even know who that person is!" Gojo roared, his voice cracking with a raw, desperate agony. "I don't have his memories! I don't have his heart! You're all asking me to be a ghost! You're asking me to wear a dead man's face and smile like everything is fine!"
He pointed a trembling finger at Garfiel, a spark of blue cursed energy crackling at the tip, but the light was unstable, flickering like a dying candle.
"Natsuki Subaru... he looks at me and sees a savior. He looks at me and expects me to keep him safe. But I can't! I don't even know how to keep myself safe from this… this… empty void in my chest!"
Kafma, leaning heavily against Garfiel's shoulder, watched the white-haired child with a look of quiet, profound pity. "He is... completely broken," the insect-general rasped. "Not in body... but in soul."
"Shut up! Just... shut up!" Gojo screamed, pressing his palms against his temples as if he could physically squeeze the static out of his brain.
It was just too much.
"I am… Satoru Gojo," he breathed, his teeth bared in a manic, tearful grimace. "I decide what I am. I don't need a past. I don't need a script. If you want a monster... if you want a coward... then that's what I'll be!"
He raised his hand, the space around his palm beginning to compress, but the delay had already been too long——
Then, the world went quiet.
Not the sound of a spell, nor the roar of wind. Just a voice, light and cheerful, cutting through the heavy, suffocating pressure upon the towering wall.
"Satoru Gojo, was it? I've been on the edge of my seat in waiting to meet you, much like the audience, I imagine."
Gojo's pupils flared.
The Six Eyes had failed to warn him. This person hadn't just approached. He had simply appeared, as if sheer speed had bypassed the very concept of distance.
Gojo's head snapped to the side.
He caught the flow of vibrant blue hair in the wind. The ocean-like, fluid movement of a mismatched kimono fluttering lazily against the backdrop of the ruined capital.
A boy, no older than his current self, stood perched casually on the jagged edge of the crater. His hands rested lightly by his side.
"… Ahh, do you hear it too?" The child's smile grew, his starry eyes sparkling with a manic, theatrical glee. "The wild cheers of the audience, as we draw nearer and nearer to the climax?"
That remarkable appearance… that presence…
Kafma's eyes contracted, the saliva in his throat drying instantly in sheer, unadulterated shock.
"Cecilus Segmunt!"
The boy named Cecilus didn't look at Kafma or Garfiel.
Rather, he kept his starry gaze locked entirely on Gojo, his smile widening into something brilliant.
With a fluid, sweeping motion, he bent at the waist, giving a flawless, dramatic bow to the empty, smoking sky.
"——In the flesh~"
——————————————————————
The air inside the command tent was oppressive, dense with the scent of sweat and the tang of fresh blood.
"Otto-san! Please, stop! Just for a second!"
Petra's voice was desperate. She was holding a blood-soaked handkerchief to Otto's face, but it was totally useless.
The dark, crimson fluid wasn't simply streaming from his nose anymore; it was leaking from his ears, dripping down his neck, and staining the collar of his green merchant's coat.
Otto sat bent over the table, his hands gripping the edges so hard his fingernails were cracking against the wood.
His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and entirely unfocused, staring at the map of Lupagana as if he could see through the parchment itself.
His brain was on fire.
Through his Divine Protection of Soul Language, the screams of ten thousand panicked animals, displaced insects, and hysterical micro-spirits were invading his brain.
The capital was a symphony of suffering, and Otto was the conductor forced to listen to every single note.
"I... I can't stop, Petra-chan," Otto gasped, his voice raspy and trembling. He coughed, spitting a glob of blood onto the corner of the map. "If I close my eyes... if I stop listening... our people will die in the dark."
Abel stood on the opposite side of the table, his arms crossed, his oni mask reflecting the flickering candlelight. He didn't offer a single word of comfort. In the big calculus of this battle, Otto's physical breakdown was a necessary expenditure.
"Report, merchant," Abel said, his voice hard and firm. "What is the status of the bastions?"
"The... the Northeast..." Otto choked out, his head twitching as a sudden spike of spiritual static flared in his mind. "It's a mess. The ice... Emily-san is freezing the entire sector, but the dragon-girl... Madelyn Eschart is fighting back. They're locked in a stalemate, but the collateral could become too much..."
"And the Southwest?" Abel pressed. "Moguro's bastion."
"The rebel forces... they're pushing," Otto wheezed, his eyes darting to the left side of the map. "The steelfolk are being torn apart. There's a man... a red-haired man... Heinkel-san! He's swinging his sword like a demon, cutting through their vanguard like they're nothing! But... but the earth is shaking. The steel giant... Moguro Hagane has finally made itself known. It's attacking Heinkel-san now!"
Petra let out a small, worried gasp, her hands trembling as she wiped another streak of blood from Otto's cheek. "Subaru-sama... what about Subaru-sama?"
A feeble, bloodied smile graced Otto's lips.
"He's here," Otto whispered. "Emilia is acting as the wall to allow them to move in. Natsuki-san is leading them from the front…"
"Then the board is set," Abel murmured, his fingers tapping against his arm. "But the anomaly remains. What of Satoru Gojo?"
At the mention of Gojo's name, Otto's entire body suddenly shivered. He let out a piercing, excruciating screech, his hands shooting to his ears as he toppled forward, his forehead smacking the wooden table.
"Otto-san!" Petra cried, throwing her arms around his shoulders to keep him from falling.
"He's... he's not holding back anymore!" Otto screamed, his teeth bared, his eyes wide with a primal, existential terror. "The space... the air spirits are being crushed into nothingness! Gojo-san is... he's completely unstable! Garfiel-san and General Irulux... they're fighting together, but they're being dismantled! They're being broken! He's going to erase them!"
Otto's mind was working overdrive. Was he wrong? Did he make a mistake on his half and overestimate Garfiel's capabilities?
"Can Garfiel not hold the line?" Abel asked, his brow furrowing behind his mask.
"He's trying! He's talking to him, trying to break his focus, but Gojo-san is——"
Suddenly, Otto froze.
The feverish twitching in his limbs halted. The excruciating screams of the spirits in his thoughts didn't quiet down, but they were suddenly drowned out by something much more frightening.
It was a resonance that didn't belong to this planet. A speed so extreme that the lesser spirits in the air didn't even have time to wail before they were bypassed.
"What...?" Otto whispered, his bloodshot eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
"Otto-san?" Petra asked, her voice shaking. "What is it? What do you hear?"
"Someone… someone just arrived," Otto breathed, his voice dropping into a hollow, terrified whisper. "On the wall where they were fighting… directly in front of Gojo-san."
"A reinforcement?" Abel asked. "Who is it?"
"I... I don't know," Otto stammered, his head shaking slowly. "He's fast. No, scratch that, too fast. He's... he's just a child, too."
Abel's stance quickly grew rigid. "A child? Describe him, merchant, instantly."
"He... he has blue hair," Otto mumbled. "He's wearing a mismatched blue and pink kimono... he has two swords at his waist and seems like he's having fun..."
For the first time since the conflict had begun, the immovable, stoic façade of Abel Vollachia shattered.
Behind the painted oni mask, Abel's eyes dilated in genuine, profound shock, if only for a moment.
His crossed arms slowly fell to his sides, his fingers clenching into tight, rigid fists.
"Cecilus…?" Abel whispered, his voice carrying a rare, chilling trace of disbelief.
"Abel-san?" Petra looked at him, startled by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "Who is that? Is he an enemy?"
"The First Class General," Abel said, his voice dropping into a more tense tone. "The Blue Lightning. The strongest sword in the Empire."
Abel looked back at the map, his gaze locked onto the central district where Gojo stood.
"Why is he there...?" Abel murmured, his mind spinning with a thousand rapid calculations. "He was supposed to be unreachable. He was supposed to be out of the script entirely——"
He looked at Otto, whose face was covered in blood, yet whose eyes were locked on the horizon.
But then again, he would be the one person to do that, wouldn't he? In the most climactic way possible, that is.
"The Lead Actor has taken the stage," Abel said, a grim, anticipatory focus returning to his voice. "The anomaly has met his match, and the fate of the Empire itself lies in either one of their hands."