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Kaelen moved silently through the ancient forest, Liam padding at his side on broad wolf paws. The twilight hour draped long shadows beneath the oaks and pines. Above, the last orange light of sunset filtered through the canopy in lances, striping the mossy ground with gold and gray. Each step was cautious; the hush of the woods felt expectant, as if the forest itself watched them trespass.

It had been only a day since they left Blackbarrow behind. The memory of that frontier town—its frightened faces and the false hero he’d unmasked in the public square—still weighed on Kaelen. He had spared the traitorous knight instead of executing him, a choice that surprised even himself. Mercy. It was a virtue he was only beginning to understand. In Blackbarrow, that act of mercy had earned him wary gratitude and a simple token of thanks from a child, now tucked safely in his belt pouch. Yet as meaningful as the moment was, it also stirred old doubts. Could a man stained by so much blood ever truly become a savior?

A cool breeze whispered through the ferns. Liam’s ears perked, the great gray wolf sniffing at the air. Kaelen rested a gloved hand on his companion’s back. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured. Somewhere ahead, beyond the next rise tangled with brambles, lay their destination: the forgotten Temple of the Allseer. Kaelen had learned of its existence from Blackbarrow’s oldest tales—a half-ruined shrine deep in the woods where, it was said, the divine eye still watched over those who sought it. Or perhaps it was not the villagers’ stories at all that guided him, but the gentle tug in his soul drawing him forward. The Allseer’s presence had been with him ever since that day in the hidden valley sanctuary, when he’d knelt at a wild altar and felt warmth radiate from the earth itself. In his darkest hours since, a quiet voice in his heart had whispered guidance. Now that voice had led him here.

Vines snared Kaelen’s boots as he pushed aside a curtain of hanging ivy. Beyond, bathed in dusk’s dim glow, stood weathered stone pillars arranged in a broad circle. These columns were carved in relief with faded symbols—an eye within a sunburst, the mark of the Allseer. The forest had begun to reclaim them; roots coiled around their bases and ivy trailed from their tops in silent conquest. Between the pillars lay fragments of a tiled floor and toppled beams, mostly swallowed by moss and soil. At the center rose the facade of the temple itself: great double doors of cracked oak, one hanging half off its hinge, set into a once-white stone wall now darkened by lichen and age.

Kaelen stepped forward, every sense alert. A faint prickle ran along his spine. Here, on holy ground, the ever-present hum in his bones—the dragon’s curse he bore—felt muted under the weight of sanctity. But something else lingered in the air. Not malice exactly; more like sorrow, an echo of heartbreak clinging to the ruins like mist. Liam let out a low whine, pawing at the ground but reluctant to advance.

“It’s all right,” Kaelen whispered, kneeling briefly to meet the wolf’s golden eyes. He ran a hand through the thick ruff of fur at Liam’s neck. The wolf’s muscles were tense beneath his palm. “Stay close. Whatever we find here, we face it together.”

At that, Liam licked Kaelen’s hand once, then slunk forward, shoulders low. Kaelen rose and followed. He carefully navigated the shattered flagstones leading to the temple entrance. Each footfall echoed in the preternatural quiet. The forest here was devoid of its usual chorus of crickets or evening birds. Only the rustle of leaves and the faint creak of the ancient wood door marked their intrusion into this long-abandoned sanctum.

Kaelen pushed against the half-open door and slipped inside, Liam at his heels. The interior of the temple was dim, illuminated only by wan beams of twilight slanting through holes in the collapsed roof. Dust motes danced in those stray shafts of light, giving the air a hazy, dream-like quality. As Kaelen’s eyes adjusted, shapes emerged: rows of wooden pews moldering into mulch; fragments of stained glass windows clinging to their frames; and at the far end, an altar of pale marble cracked down its center. Above the altar loomed a statue of the Allseer—or what remained of it.

Kaelen approached slowly. The statue depicted a robed figure with arms outstretched, but time had eroded its face beyond recognition. Only the Allseer’s symbol—an eye—was carved prominently on the figure’s chest. Once, perhaps, a gemstone had filled that eye, but it was long gone, leaving an empty, weathered indentation. Around the statue’s shoulders and limbs, green vines twisted like creeping veins, some blooming with tiny white flowers even as they split the stone.

He halted a dozen paces from the altar. Liam sniffed the air, then sneezed at the dust, sticking close to Kaelen’s side. Kaelen’s heart was pounding, though he could not say why. The hush here was thicker than outside—a sacred silence that pressed on his ears. He realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled quietly. With great care, he sheathed his sword at his hip—an unconscious gesture of respect—and inclined his head toward the altar. Though no priest remained to tend these ruins, Kaelen felt compelled to offer reverence.

“Allseer,” he said softly, the name echoing faintly off the crumbling walls. His voice sounded small in the hollow chamber. “If your eyes are upon me… know that I come seeking guidance, and perhaps forgiveness.”

His words faded. For a long moment there was nothing but the drip of water somewhere distant—rainwater seeping through the roof into a puddle on the stone floor. Kaelen closed his eyes, letting the silence settle. Doubts swirled in his mind. Had he done right in Blackbarrow? Was sparing an evil man true justice or a mistake born of weakness? And what of the darker path ahead? The Corrupter’s shadow was lengthening over the land—he could feel it, like a bruise on his soul. If the Allseer truly had a plan for him, he needed a sign. He needed to know that all his struggles were not in vain.

Liam nudged against him, sensing his unease. Kaelen opened his eyes and managed a slight smile for the wolf. “One step at a time,” he murmured, as if reassuring them both.

As his boot crossed a threshold of fallen candlesticks and offerings long turned to dust, a sudden shiver rippled through the air. The fine hairs on Kaelen’s neck rose. Liam froze, ears flat.

Without warning, the shards of stained glass in the high windows began to rattle in their frames. The sound was soft at first – tik, tik, tik – then swelled into a discordant chime. Kaelen’s hand went to his sword, heart pounding anew. Liam pressed closer, a low growl building in the wolf’s throat. A deep gong reverberated through the temple, as if a great bell had been struck somewhere beneath the floor. The vibration coursed up Kaelen’s legs and thudded in his chest. Then, as suddenly as it began, the rattling ceased. Silence flooded back—an expectant hush bristling with unseen energy.

A pale blue luminescence began to coalesce along the floor, swirling like mist caught in moonlight. Kaelen watched, tense but transfixed, as the glow gathered itself before the altar. The haze of light rose and thickened, slowly taking on a human shape. Within moments, a figure robed in ethereal vestments stood where the air had been empty. She—if it was indeed a she—appeared as a woman made of mist and starlight, her features blurred and shifting. Where her eyes would be, there were only twin pinpoints of soft white radiance.

Kaelen’s breath caught. An echo of a priestess, a spirit bound to this sacred place, lingered here against all odds. He sank to one knee instinctively, in awe of her otherworldly presence. Liam remained at his side, pressing against him, uncertain whether to snarl or whine.

The apparition inclined her head, ghostly robes drifting around her as if underwater. When she “spoke,” her lips did not move, yet Kaelen heard her clearly in his mind—a gentle voice, layered with countless echoes: Why have you come, burdened soul?

For a moment Kaelen struggled to find his voice. Under the weight of that spectral gaze, he felt as exposed as if laid bare under the noon sun. He bowed his head. “I seek the Allseer’s guidance,” he said hoarsely, his words reverberating in the stillness. “I seek redemption… a way to atone, and the strength to fight the darkness spreading over this land.” He swallowed, then added in a tremble of honest fear and resolve, “I seek a way to stop the Corrupter.”

At that name, the specter flinched as if struck. The serene glow of her form faltered, edges blurring. The Corrupter… awakens… her voice sighed, sorrow and dread mingling in the air.

In the next heartbeat, blinding light erupted from the spirit. Kaelen flung an arm over his face. A soundless shockwave rippled out, and the temple around him transformed. When he dared to lower his arm, he found himself standing not in darkness and ruin, but in the temple as it once had been.

He saw the hall restored to glory: tall candles burning in iron sconces, their flames steady and bright; banners of white and gold hanging from pillars; the air rich with the scent of incense and lilies. At the marble altar stood a circle of priests and priestesses deep in prayer. Among them was the very priestess whose ghost had spoken to him—alive and whole, her face aglow with youthful fervor. None of them seemed aware of Kaelen or Liam, who now moved soundlessly among them like specters.

Kaelen realized he was witnessing a vision—whether of the past or some echo of the divine, he could not tell. Liam whined softly at his side, ears flattened. Kaelen placed a reassuring hand on the wolf’s head, though his own heart drummed with uncertainty.

High above, a great circular stained-glass window dominated the front wall, depicting the Allseer’s eye in a burst of sunlight. Its colors bathed the temple in a kaleidoscope of warm light. But as Kaelen watched, a shadow blotted the vibrant hues. The golden glass dimmed, the painted eye at its center darkening as if an eclipse crossed its surface.

The chanting of the clergy faltered. One by one, they looked up in alarm. Through the stained glass, the sky beyond had turned black. An unnatural darkness spread across the heavens, and with it came a deep, resonant boom that rattled the window in its frame. Kaelen followed their gaze, dread coiling in his stomach. He had seen such darkness before—in nightmares and omens.

Suddenly the stained-glass window exploded inward. Shards of colored glass rained down like a thousand knives. The clergy screamed and ducked for cover. Kaelen instinctively threw himself over Liam, protecting the wolf as glittering fragments cascaded around them harmlessly. When he looked up, the night outside was pouring into the temple—an inky, living shadow.

Two burning crimson eyes flared within that darkness, accompanied by a rumbling growl that made Kaelen’s blood run cold. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. The shape at the shattered window was colossal and unholy—a mass of roiling shadow that hinted at monstrous wings and horns. It oozed into the sacred space like black smoke given mind and purpose.

A wave of pure malice crashed over the hall. Candles guttered out. The priests and priestesses scrambled back in terror. One bold voice shouted a prayer into the darkness; others raised gleaming symbols of the Allseer, hands trembling. Kaelen realized with horror that he was witnessing the temple’s final moments—the night the Corrupter’s shadow fell here.

The formless darkness struck like a gale. Kaelen watched helplessly as clergy were flung aside by invisible force, their bodies hitting the pillars and floor with sickening thuds. A few of them dropped lifeless before they even understood what was attacking. Amid the chaos, the young high priestess—the woman whose spirit had addressed him—stepped forward, holding aloft a silver amulet that shone with desperate radiance. It was shaped like the Allseer’s eye and blazing white as she channeled her faith into it.

“By the Light, begone!” she cried, voice clear and commanding. A dome of brilliant light unfurled from the amulet, pushing back the tendrils of darkness that sought to snuff it out. For an instant, light and dark clashed in midair, crackling. The red-eyed shadow recoiled, halting its advance. In that brief respite, the priestess glanced across the chaos—and her eyes met Kaelen’s. Though he was a mere phantom in this vision, her gaze seemed to plead with him, full of anguish and resolve.

Kaelen surged to his feet, wanting somehow to help, to warn her that it wasn’t enough. “Behind you!” he shouted, but his voice was lost in the cacophony.

The Corrupter’s shadow gathered itself and struck again like a hammer of night. A massive tendril of darkness speared through the priestess’s halo of light. Kaelen watched in mute horror as the dark coil ran the priestess through. Her eyes widened, a final gasp escaping her as the amulet tumbled from her fingers. The brilliant relic clattered to the marble floor, its light sputtering out, and rolled toward Kaelen’s feet.

“No!” Kaelen roared, reaching for the dying woman even as the vision wavered. All around, the temple was collapsing into ruin once more—the pillars cracking, the tapestries shredding in an unseen wind. The remaining candles were snuffed, plunging everything into black chaos. The last Kaelen saw of the priestess was her body crumpling as the darkness swallowed her and everything around her.

In the next breath, the vision—and the nightmare—ended.

Kaelen gasped as the ghostly scene shattered into darkness. He was back in the cold night of the ruined temple, collapsed on one knee behind a fallen pillar. His lungs burned as if he’d been holding his breath. Liam was pressed against him, whining and licking his face, trying to rouse him from the trance. Kaelen realized his cheeks were wet—whether with sweat or tears, he was not sure.

He staggered to his feet, his limbs trembling. His sword was in his hand, though he had no memory of drawing it. The metallic taste of fear clung to his tongue. That horrific vision of the temple’s fall left an ache in his heart, but also a spark of righteous anger. So this is what befell this holy place… what the Corrupter would do to the world if unleashed.**

Kaelen drew in a shuddering breath and steadied himself against a cracked pillar. He would not let that vision of despair paralyze him. If anything, it steeled his resolve further. The Allseer—or her lingering spirit—had shown him the cost of failure. He would not allow that darkness to prevail beyond these ruins.

As he regained his bearings, a heavy silence settled once more. He became aware that the air felt different—no longer charged with vision or ghostly presence, but not empty either. An unseen pair of eyes seemed to watch from the dark corners of the hall. Liam’s ears pricked, and a deep growl rumbled in the wolf’s throat.

From the far end of the hall came a scrape of metal on stone. In the gloom near the altar, a hulking silhouette shifted. Kaelen squinted, raising his sword. A figure stepped out from behind a toppled column—tall and broad, encased in tarnished plate armor. It moved with stiff, jerking motions. Pale moonlight from a roof crack revealed details: a corroded breastplate emblazoned with the faded eye of the Allseer, spiked pauldrons draped in cobwebs, and a greathelm that concealed its head entirely. The armor looked centuries old. Where patches of skin should have shown between the plates, there was only shriveled sinew stretched taut over bone. Two pinpoints of cold blue fire glowed in the depths of the visor’s eye slits.

Liam barked sharply, the sound echoing. The armored horror turned its helmed head toward them. “Intruders…” a hollow voice rasped from within the metal shell, echoing as if from a tomb. The knight—it must once have been a knight—took a heavy step forward, a massive halberd clutched in its gauntleted hands. The polearm’s blade was pitted with rust, yet its edge gleamed wickedly sharp.

Kaelen’s heart sank. This could only be the temple’s guardian—a holy sentinel from ages past, now cursed and corrupted by the very darkness that destroyed this place. It had remained at its post long after death, twisted into a monstrous thing. He tightened his grip on his sword but tried to keep his voice calm.

“We mean no harm,” Kaelen called out, voice echoing in the cavernous chamber. “I am Kaelen, a servant of the Allseer.” He took a cautious step forward, gesturing to the eye sigil on the knight’s own breastplate. “You were a guardian of this temple… I, too, seek to guard what is sacred. We fight the same evil—”

“Lies!” the sentinel hissed, the word scraping like iron on stone. Blue witch-fire flared in its visor slits. “The Allseer’s grace is gone from this place. All that remain are echoes… and trespassers.” The creature’s distorted voice rose with sudden fury. “You carry corruption’s stench on you. For that, you will die.”

With unnatural speed, the knight lunged. Kaelen barely rolled aside as the halberd’s blade smashed into the floor where he’d stood an instant before, spraying shards of stone. The next swing whooshed over his ducking head and obliterated a row of wooden pews behind him, exploding them into splinters. He struck back, sword clanging against the knight’s breastplate, but the blow barely staggered the hulking figure. It was like hitting an empty suit of steel animated by rage alone.

The sentinel retaliated with a vicious backhand. Kaelen raised his blade just in time—the halberd’s haft crashed against his sword, the impact jolting his arms to the shoulders. He grit his teeth, pain flowering along the old scar on his left arm. Before he could counter, the knight’s iron boot slammed into his ribs. Kaelen felt a burst of agony as he was launched off his feet and sent crashing into a broken column. He hit the stone hard and collapsed to the ground, gasping as the wind was knocked from his lungs. A sharp pain lanced his side with each breath; he prayed nothing was broken, but it felt close.

“Argh…” He tried to rise, wincing. Through watering eyes he saw the sentinel bearing down on him, relentless. Liam intercepted with a feral snarl. The wolf leapt and clamped his jaws onto the knight’s left arm, teeth scraping on bone beneath the armor. With a rattling growl, the undead guardian swung its arm and slammed Liam against a wall. The wolf yelped and dropped to the floor, stunned.

“No!” Kaelen cried, heart lurching. Rage and fear pulsed through him. He forced himself up, ignoring the screaming protest of his bruised ribs. The knight was nearly upon him again, halberd raised high for a deathblow. Kaelen’s fingers tightened around his sword hilt. His vision swam. He knew he couldn’t withstand another direct hit like that. And Liam lay whimpering, badly hurt. In this moment, brute force would not save them.

Kaelen sucked in a painful breath and made a split-second choice. Instead of bracing to parry, he loosened his grip and let his sword’s tip lower. The sentinel hesitated, perhaps confused by the lack of a fighting stance. Kaelen seized that heartbeat of time to close his eyes and call inwardly, Allseer, guide me… He reached out his left hand—the one encased in the stone gauntlet—and felt for the warm spark of light that he’d used before to heal and purify.

The air between Kaelen and the knight suddenly ignited with a brilliant white-gold radiance. A soft glow blossomed in Kaelen’s palm and then unfurled into a blinding flash that washed over the charging knight. The holy light bathed the ruin in illumination, driving back every shadow.

The sentinel recoiled mid-strike, an eerie shriek issuing from its helm. It threw up a gauntleted arm as if warding off a scorching heat, stumbling a step back. The blue flames in its eyes guttered and danced erratically. Under the glow of Allseer’s light, the knight’s tarnished armor steamed, the dark grime upon it sizzling.

Kaelen’s chest heaved as he kept his glowing palm thrust outward. This was no destructive dragonfire—it was pure, gentle light, meant to heal and sanctify. To the corrupted knight, it was like sunlight to a mold that had grown in darkness. “Stand down,” Kaelen urged, his voice echoing. “Your vigil is over. Be at peace.”

The knight staggered, lowered its halberd, and for an instant Kaelen thought he saw it shake its head in confusion. A rattling breath escaped the helm—almost a sob. The immense figure sank to one knee, fighting against the light’s influence. “All…seer…?” the hollow voice croaked, warbling between rage and despair. Kaelen’s heart ached at that tone. Somewhere inside this monster was the remnant of a faithful soul.

But the corruption was not done with its puppet. The blue flames flared violently again. With a howl torn from the depths of its being, the sentinel surged upright in one last frenzy. It hurled its halberd aside with a clang, then lunged at Kaelen with outstretched arms. Before Kaelen could react, the knight’s steel hands clamped around his throat and arm. The gauntlet’s stone plates creaked under the immense pressure as the monster lifted Kaelen clean off the ground.

Kaelen choked, the edges of his vision dimming. The undead knight’s grip was crushing, cold power pulsing from its fingers. It was trying to strangle the life out of him—and snuff out the light at the same time. Pain shot through Kaelen’s neck and shoulder where the claws dug in, but he refused to let the light die.

Mustering the last of his strength and faith, Kaelen thrust his glowing hand forward those final few inches and pressed it flat against the knight’s breastplate, right over the engraved Allseer’s eye. “Be free,” he managed to rasp, voice barely a whisper.

A burst of brilliance erupted between them. The knight was thrown backward as if hit by a divine thunderbolt. It released Kaelen, who fell hard to the floor, coughing and clutching at his bruised throat. A searing hiss filled the air. Black smoke began pouring from the joints of the knight’s armor, curling upward like serpents of shadow fleeing the light.

The sentinel staggered, swaying on its feet. Its gauntlets opened and closed spasmodically, as though trying to grasp something unseen. A hollow, despairing moan echoed from inside the helm: “No… more…”

Kaelen watched, chest burning and vision blurry, as the once-indomitable guardian slowly crumpled to its knees. The blue glow in its visor dimmed to pale flickers. The last tatters of darkness wafted out from under the armor, dissipating into the air. With a final clatter, the cursed knight collapsed face-forward onto the stone floor. The sudden silence rang in Kaelen’s ears.

For a long moment, Kaelen knelt there panting, half-expecting the armored figure to rise again. But it lay still. The unearthly life animating it was gone.

Liam limped to Kaelen’s side, licking his chin worriedly. Kaelen shakily put an arm around the wolf’s neck, both for comfort and support, and together they approached the fallen sentinel. Carefully, Kaelen hooked his fingers under the rim of the greathelm and eased it off. It came away with a scrape, revealing the interior. There was no grisly corpse inside, no skeletal visage—only a heap of fine gray ash that spilled out onto the floor. All that remained of the ancient guardian was dust.

Kaelen bowed his head, a swell of pity and respect filling him. “Your watch has ended,” he said quietly, voice reverent in the gloom. “May the Allseer guide you to rest at last.” The ashes stirred faintly at his words, then settled into stillness.

As he set the heavy helm aside, something gleaming in the pile of ash caught his eye. Amid the dusty remnants, a silver pendant on a broken chain glinted softly. Kaelen gently lifted it free and held it up to the hazy moonlight. It was an amulet of the Allseer: the eye-and-sunburst symbol crafted in silver, with a small oval crystal at its center. Though tarnished with age, the moment Kaelen touched it he felt a gentle warmth pulse against his skin. He recognized it—if not by sight, then by intuition. This was the amulet the priestess had brandished in the vision, the one that had fallen from her hand as darkness claimed her.

A tremor passed through Kaelen. This little object had once channeled the Allseer’s light in the temple’s final hour. And now it had revealed itself to him. Was it meant for him? He glanced back at the crumbled statue and felt, rather than heard, a whisper in his heart: Take it.

With a nod of silent gratitude, Kaelen clasped the amulet’s chain. The silver was broken, but he tucked the pendant safely inside his leather tunic, close against his chest. A gentle heat radiated from it, spreading through his body. He closed his eyes as the warmth caressed his battered ribs and throat. The pain ebbed to a dull ache. His mind, which had been clouded with fear and adrenaline, cleared. In that moment Kaelen felt connected—to the temple, to the forest around them, and to something higher that he could not see. The Allseer’s presence, once distant, now felt close at hand.

“Thank you,” he breathed, unsure if he spoke to the Allseer, to the brave priestess’s spirit, or to the knight whose soul he’d freed. Perhaps all of them heard.

Liam nudged Kaelen’s arm with his nose, drawing a smile from the warrior. “I’m all right,” Kaelen assured him gently. The wolf’s golden eyes regarded him with obvious relief. Apart from a limp and some scrapes, Liam would mend. Kaelen tore a strip of cloth from a ragged banner and wrapped it around the shallow cut on the wolf’s foreleg. Liam bore the impromptu bandage with a wag of his tail.

At last, Kaelen rose and surveyed the once-holy hall. The oppressive heaviness had lifted. The air smelled of rain, dust, and a hint of something like frankincense. Moonlight streamed peacefully through the broken roof, illuminating motes of sparkling dust. The ruin felt tranquil, as though the temple itself could finally sigh in relief.

Slowly, Kaelen made his way toward the entrance, Liam padding faithfully at his side. He paused one last time by the cracked marble altar. Despite the damage, he could still make out an inscription along its base, worn but legible in the moonlight: “Even in darkness, the Allseer watches.” Kaelen ran his fingers over the ancient lettering, then bowed his head. Even in darkness… He had walked through darkness in this place—through visions of despair and a battle for his soul—and he had not been alone. The Allseer had watched, and when he proved himself with mercy and faith, she had answered.

“I will carry your light out of here,” Kaelen whispered, a solemn promise in the quiet. Then he turned and stepped out into the night.

The forest greeted them with soft sounds of life—distant crickets, a breeze sighing through leaves. Under the canopy, silver moonlight dappled the ground, lighting a path between the trees. Kaelen inhaled the cool air, fresh with the scent of wet earth and pine. Every bruise and ache in his body was a reminder of what he had overcome, but the pain was tempered by a glow of purpose in his heart.

He rested a hand on the side of Liam’s sturdy neck as they walked away from the clearing of ruins. The wolf kept close, casting the occasional glance upward at his master. In the faint light, Kaelen’s dark cloak swirled around him, and beneath it, pressed to his heart, the recovered amulet pulsed with quiet power.

Kaelen did not look back at the temple. He didn’t need to. The despair that had once clung to those stones was gone; he could sense only peace behind him. Ahead, the world beyond the woods awaited—a world still plagued by shadows that would need the Allseer’s justice. He thought of the challenges yet to come: the cultists and fiends spreading the Corrupter’s influence, the temptations that would seek to turn him from his path, and the Corrupter itself looming at the end of this road. There would be dark nights ahead, no doubt. But tonight he had gained a guiding light.

As man and wolf ventured onward, Kaelen allowed himself a small, determined smile. For the first time in a long while, he felt something akin to hope warming him from within. The dark savior—scarred, tested, but unbroken—moved forward into the shadows of the forest, an instrument of judgment newly blessed. And in the quiet silver glow of the moon, it almost seemed as if the eye of the Allseer upon his chest shone bright, lighting the way.

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