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TO Rewrite: B3 — 20. Raw, Bloody Power
🕑 Added 2024-11-27 00:28:33 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Rachel Park (Our Lunar Hare!)
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The city stretched out before Rachel, its towering outer walls glinting faintly under the dim moonlight. The strong hum of magic emanated from the high obstacle preventing them from entering the city, and a giant gate far in the distance was shining as a beacon of radiant jewels and intricate designs.
The air felt heavy, laden with power that pressed down on her heightened senses, every living thing within miles immediately seen through her vampiric, predatory eyes. Yet, under the Blood Moon’s influence, everything around her stilled as if reality itself hesitated in her presence—dust caught mid-air, bandits frozen mid-step as they charged toward her group.
She exhaled, the melancholy vibes stilling her pulse as her breath came out with a faint wisp of crimson light. The world seemed slow, Grace and everyone else beginning to lag more by the second as she accelerated her movements. Her bloody eclipse eyes scanned the scene, every detail sharp, every motion trapped.
This brings me back to the Tier-3 Legend Quest battle against that army of undead death wolves. I forgot what it felt like to outrun the world… she mumbled to Nia, the whole world seen in a way that transcended the typical light reflection vision typically worked as her body was reforged to the resilience of a demigod.
The Living Denier appeared beside her, the only other figure moving at any reasonable pace amidst the tableau. Her outfit radiated faint sparks of pulsing red lunar energy as she matched her pace, albeit at a visible strain. From previous practice in Conner’s Legend Quest, she knew they’d need to speed up over time or the after effects of this level of power would instantly kill everyone nearby.
The bun shrugged, a wry grin tugging at her sad expression. “Well, it’s a hell of a lot quieter when you outpace sound by several times, I’ll give you that. We best wait until we’re a bit away from the pack before becoming living fireballs. If we keep this up, Major, we might need to start keeping track of our environmental damage. I know this is a fable world, but we’re a real danger to everyone around us at this output.”
Rachel glanced at the fractured ground where Nia’s footfalls had left deep, jagged impressions. The force of her movement had displaced the very air, creating rippling distortions in the atmosphere. Each step sent faint tremors through the earth, and the sheer shockwaves of the displaced atmosphere had formed faint, swirling vacuum-like eddies in the still air around them.
It’s not like we’re trying to be subtle, Rachel muttered through their soul connection, her tone flat as her gaze swept the frozen bandits and their still-fluttering cloaks. Sure, we’ll cause some serious disruption in passing, but it won’t kill most of the thieves if we keep our pace steady until we’re out of the area. A little hearing damage is fine.
Nia tilted her head, her sharp ears flicking toward the distant gate as activity came from its illuminated jewels, projecting a city-wide shell that was invisible to any normal person.
“True, and our gang can handle the hurricane winds we stir up, but you’re turning the whole city into your personal snow globe. Even if they don’t see you coming, they’ll feel you and the dust is going to be insane.”
Rachel’s lips twitched in a faint smirk she didn’t feel, the only trace of amusement breaking through her cold demeanor. Good. Let them tremble. If they’re smart, they’ll stay out of my way. If they’re not… Well, they’ll wish they had.
Taking the first step, her feet didn’t even touch the sand around the city walls, the controlled pressure she exerted forming platforms out of the very air compression. They moved as one in a more casual walk, not so much as two seconds passing since their transformation.
[Time Remaining: 59 Seconds]
The atmosphere folded effortlessly around Rachel, her momentum carrying her forward faster than the eye could track. The world blurred and twisted around her, the pressure of her speed warping the environment, yet, to them, it was hardly a strolling pace. Displaced air crackled like thunder in their wake, plasma leaving an impression along their long path, and the faint distortions of bent light followed them like rippling waves.
The ground cracked beneath their passing, sending plumes of sand and tremors ripping through the soil. The still-frozen figures of bandits and their allies alike remained locked in their suspended animation as they left them to handle the gnats. Her mind was only on two figures: Abu and his traitorous princess.
Nia kept pace, though her breathing was heavier than usual, her body visibly tense from the strain. “Y’know, Major, there’s something almost poetic about this. All this speed, and yet, here we are, still walking.”
I can’t just leave you behind, Rachel gently returned, her eyes fixed on the distant Gate. There are still limits to our connection, it seems, and at this level, it’s obvious. I can’t have you being ripped off my body and soul, going around naked.
Nia let out a short laugh, her ears flicking with a mix of humor and mild exasperation. “Give me a few more levels to strengthen our bond.”
As they moved, Rachel felt the Blood Moon’s potent aura—the raw power of a Unique Moon—radiating out of her soul, its influence saturating her every thought and motion. Her heightened senses absorbed everything—the faint crackling of strained air molecules, the distant thrum of the city’s magical barrier, the stillness of every living thing around her.
Yet, beneath the icy clarity, there was a weight—a somber melancholy that settled deep in her chest. It was getting closer, as if Selene were parting the veil to walk beside them. It was as if the very elements were resonating with the Greek Personification’s sorrow, leaving twinkling ruby rays in their passing—it wasn’t this potent the first time.
It didn’t take all that long for them to approach the jeweled gate, its radiant stones pulsating with geometric light patterns, just as Ali Baba’s teleportation gate had. However, these couldn’t even be compared in size and complexity.
The massive, mirror-like surface exuded a divine, Neutral Force that Rachel instinctively recognized with [Curse of Ambrogio] activated. The oppressive force radiating from the barrier clashed with the Blood Moon’s sorrowful aura they projected, creating a consistent rippling wave through the shell-like dome over the city.
Hands stuffed into her shorts pockets, Rachel tilted her head up, vision narrowing as the air rippled with the sound of chiming bells that managed to reach them—a mystical resonance that bypassed even the suspended world around them. She felt no rush, no anger, no drive to race to the finish with Selene’s influence gripping her.
He lives within the gate? she noted, peering past its many layers to the tiny space inside the guardian occupied; the guards atop the wall towers couldn’t process what was happening at the speed they were operating on. Interesting. However…far from our level, she noted, [Beastial Instinct] informing her on the distinctive difference in power.
The City Guard Captain materialized at the gate’s door-like rubies at its base, his form outlined by glowing geometric symbols that pulsed faintly on his armor. In swift succession, he pulled a knife from his belt with his sole free hand, plunging it into the stone.
The moment the blade touched the ground, a faint dome of light spread outward, trapping Nia and her in a space where time and thought could accelerate alongside their speed. The captain’s booming voice echoed within the zone as Rachel tilted her head to follow the accelerated zone.
“Halt! Foolish creature of reality. You rush to your doom.”
Rachel’s crimson eyes narrowed, her apathy under the Blood Moon’s influence making his words slide off her like water on glass. She didn’t reply, instead letting the eerie silence linger as her gaze scanned the artifacts on his body, noting the faint celestial imprints embedded within their designs.
“Do you not understand the sanctity of this place? The Gate of the Seven Jeweled Sands is both a shield and a prison—a testament to the Sultan’s divine power and mandate! You cannot hope to break it. And, before you stands Nasser, the Keeper of the Unhallowed Beast! I am armed with the Crescent Shield of Eternal Night, the Knife of Meridian Flow, which draws you into my space, and—”
“You speak like someone who thinks they matter,” Rachel dully interrupted, rubbing the shaft of her hammer, still slung over her shoulder. “Do yourself a favor and step aside. I don’t have time to babysit relics of a bygone era.”
[Time Remaining: 58 Seconds]
The captain’s shield shifted slightly as he braced himself, his expression unchanging. “If you proceed, you will not only destroy yourself against my divine artifacts,” he shouted, summoning a blinding golden sword, “but should you succeed in your unholy desires to break this barrier, you shall awaken the calamity bound beneath these sands. The djinn’s power may protect the Sultan, but even it cannot hold back the Leviathan’s wrath if the gate falls. Turn back now, or face oblivion by your own folly.”
Rachel’s ears tilted forward, not even the glimmer of a smile touching her lips. “You like hearing yourself talk, don’t you? Let me save you the trouble.”
In a single movement, she vanished from where she stood, instantly bypassing whatever artifact the man boasted of as she overwhelmed its restrictive measures. The air around her collapsed with a deafening crack as she reappeared mid-swing, her bloody hammer arcing toward the captain’s shield.
Eyes bugging out, the guardian barely managed to raise his aegis, in time, The Crescent Shield of Eternal Night’s surface shimmering with a desperate burst of Neutral Lunar Energy that did nothing to her. The artifact’s ancient inscriptions glowed bright, attempting to absorb the incoming strike.
Yet, the moment her hammer ate through the energy wall and connected, the shield erupted into molten slag. Cracks spiderwebbed through its surface, the once-pristine artifact turning to shimmering liquid that blasted with the momentum she carried, peppering the ground in glowing, steaming droplets.
The kinetic force carried through, obliterating the intricate rings and gemstones magical defenses embedded in his armor. The protective jewels shattered, the residual energy sparking faintly before dissipating into nothingness. The captain’s proud stance crumbled as Rachel drove forward, apathetic eyes burning into his in the split second his time-accelerated dagger allowed him.
His arm folded grotesquely, blood and bone twisting, the sheer pressure sending shockwaves through his shoulder as his grip faltered. His armor, once a masterpiece of ages past craftsmanship, began to warp, the heat from her blow melting the metal around his chest.
Then, her hammer stopped just shy of fully obliterating his breastplate, her restraint the only thing sparing him a grisly death but the pure shockwave launching him like a meteor. His body slamming into the Gate of the Seven Jeweled Sands with an ear-splitting crack.
The jewel-like surface shimmered with Abu Hassan’s visage for a split second, his smug confidence replaced with the growing shadow of dread, disbelief, as it splintered under the impact, fractures rippling outward like veins of light. His body disappeared beneath the shards, his armor barely holding together, as the raw force carried him deep into the city’s underbelly.
[Time Remaining: 52 Seconds]
Trembling, the gate’s intricate patterns of radiant jewels flickering as the celestial symbols etched into its surface began to shatter with the shell that protected the city. Each crack emitted a piercing ray, illuminating the area with blinding intensity. Yet, it wasn’t that that forced Rachel to freeze in place, a quiver running from the tip of her tail to the top of her ears.
“The gate fractures... the seal falters... We stir, forgotten children of the sands. The blood moon rises, and so too shall we.”
Faint, otherworldly whispers seeped from the widening gaps, their eerie melody echoing like a lament from the depths below as the colossal figure stirred with hundreds of thousands of vibrating objects.
The Eldritch, Rachel intnerally sighed as she stood still, her crimson eclipse eyes remaining fixated on the slow-falling gate outside the time-quickened zone. Dust hung in the air, frozen in time, yet the oppressive aura emanating from the gate pierced through the Blood Moon’s influence to touch her mind, a familiar taint she’d tasted twice now. I hear you.
“Reality bleeds… The threads unravel… You pull, hunter, yet do not see the web that ensnares you. Our slumber ends…bound in shadow and light… We wait below, where the earth trembles in remembrance of us.”
The ground beneath her feet quaked as vibrations rippled outward, the tremors spreading across the city’s perimeter as she jumped back to join Nia. Her outfit’s pursed mouth was bunched to the side, arms crossed as she watched the speed at which the fissures traveled only increasing, a maddening purr weaving out from within.
“Fate is ash…crumble it further, Bearer of Curses. Each strike echoes in the void, each action feeds the spiral. Burn bright, oh Child of On High and Below, for the darkness drinks of your flame.”
“Well now. Mmm. We’ve done it this time, Major,” the bun mumbled, shaking off the shiver. “I think you just rang the dinner bell for something we don’t want to meet. There is a bright side to this… It seems all this power is hastening some—”
[Beastial Instinct III - Advanced to S-tier]
[Level Up - Level 17]
[1 Stat Point Added; 6 Available]
[1 Feat Extension Added; 2 Available]
[1 Equipable Feat Choice Added; 2 Available]
[Level Up - Level 18]
[2 Stat Point Added; 8 Available]
[2 Feat Extension Available]
[2 Equipable Feat Choice Available]
[1 Stat Modifier Available]
[1 Branch Feat Available]
[Nia Base Grade Increase - Grade IX Achieved]
[1 Synchro Point Added; 1 Available]
[2 Style Points Added; 2 Available]
[1 Feat Point Added; 1 Available]
[50 New Inventory Slots Added; 52 Available]
[Nia Base Grade Increase - Grade X Achieved]
[2 Synchro Point Added; 3 Available]
[4 Style Points Added; 6 Available]
[1 Feat Point Added; 2 Available]
[100 New Inventory Slots Added; 152 Available]
[Living Denier Class Upgrade Available: Resets Grades to I]
“What…have you done?”
Rachel shifted her gaze away from the widening rupture in the sands and vibrating earth as a sapphire light tore through the air like a knife. Geometric patterns radiated outward, forming an intricate lattice of glowing symbols.
Rachel’s vision narrowed as the figure emerged, his towering presence matched only by the aura of divine dominance that rolled off him in waves. The Sultan strode forward with deliberate, measured steps, matching their speed. His hands clasped behind his back, surveying her as though observing an errant child.
His robes shimmered, each fold of fabric alive with shifting patterns that reflected the ethereal power at his command. Behind him, the faint outline of a djinn materialized, its form wreathed in sapphire fire and the glint of celestial chains.
[Time Remaining: 50 Seconds]
Rachel felt the familiar ripple of [Divine Beastial Instinct] trigger deep within her, a warning she hadn’t anticipated to feel ever when channeling the Blood Moon—this man was a force to be reckoned with. Beside her, Nia adjusted her stance, her outfit flaring slightly as she internally muttered, “Looks like we found the big boss. Major, he’s packing some serious juice.”
“What did I do?” she repeated, gazing over the scene with a detached calm, pausing briefly on the fractured, still-collapsing gate. “Exactly what I needed to in order to get your attention. I broke your gate—”
Her words were cut short as the Sultan’s form streaked toward her, sapphire light erupting in his wake. The raw force of his charge caused the air to ripple violently, geometric symbols and plasma trailing his every step. Only her Divine senses were able to keep up, and her instincts flaring as she pushed forward, forcing her body into motion.
Hold fast, Nia!
Nia clung tight to her form to not be ripped off as time inside the distorted zone moved to a crawl, her hammer swinging up to meet the sultan’s blade. They met in a crescent arc, sapphire flames licking the edge of the weapon as it collided with her shaft—her eyes narrowed further upon feeling the strain reverberate through her entire being.
The clash rippled through the atmosphere, discharges of plasma and vacuums swirling around them as the very fabric of space warped. Teeth gritting together as she braced herself, she channeled the totality of her full strength, the solid air beneath her feet erupting in a sharp radiance as she forced air particles together in raw power to drive forward.
“Major! Mmgm—”
I see it…
For a moment, she seemed to succeed—the blade skidded off the hammer’s shaft. But then, a pulse of pure magical energy radiated from the weapon, bypassing her weapon and splitting past Nia’s layered defenses. No pain came due to her spirit being safely tucked away in Hades, yet she couldn’t miss the sharp line that tore through her, the energy slicing from her right shoulder, across her chest, and down to her left side in a deep, fiery gash.
He’s impressive, I’ll give him that. And this is only a test strike.
Fueling her strengthening limbs as blood bubbled up to restore the damage, she shoved forward, unleashing the full weight of her strength. The Sultan flew back, the djinn’s power slowing him as his feet dragged against the fractured ground. The very stone turning to magma in his passing and an eruption of energy detonated behind her from the pressure she’d had to maintain to keep her position, sending sand, stone, and molten glass peppering the landscape.
The Sultan’s expression did not change, though a faint flicker of emotion, disappointment, perhaps, passed through his piercing blue eyes, the djinn behind him puffing up with mild aggression—she’d matched him.
“Foolishness.” He gestured to the shimmering bracelet on his wrist, its sapphire light growing brighter with each second. “You wield powers you should not. This is not a game, Child of Reality. That gate you destroyed is not merely a shield; it is a prison—a seal containing a threat beyond your comprehension. Its collapse awakens the sands’ ancient scourge.”
Rachel’s lips twitched faintly, the wound already closed and Nia’s threads mending. Despite the Blood Moon’s melancholy sway, she felt mild amusement at the prospect of facing someone at this level as her hammer rested lazily against her shoulder.
“Beyond my comprehension? I think you underestimate the veils I’ve parted and the things I’ve become to do what I needed to do. I’ve met my fair share of ancient scourges. They tend to fall apart once you hit them hard enough. Have you tried words? I beat a Lesser God with a few well-timed taunts and the right pluck of misfortune.”
The Sultan’s calm exterior cracked slightly, his voice sharpening. “Your arrogance blinds you, as it blinds all who see the world as their plaything. Power goes to your corrupted heart. I know what you are, Bringer of Sorrow, and what power courses through you. But even you cannot contain the chaos you have unleashed.”
The ground quaked again as the whispers from the fractured gate grew louder, their haunting melody now layered with guttural growls against her psyche. She remained unflinching, though her gaze flicked momentarily to the djinn hovering behind the Sultan, its form shifting and flickering as though tethered to him.
Nia’s voice broke through their tension-filled silence, her tone low but firm. “Nike’s saying the Yin-Yang Audience Chamber is nearing completion. Whatever powers that are surging out of that Eldritch entity, it’s distorting reality and drawing in some big players. Major…we might need to consider what’s next before this goes sideways because you feel it as much as I do.”
Rachel’s ears tilted further forward, lowering her chin as she felt the pulses passing into her soul from within the sands—otherworldly, Neutral Force, which corrupted and twisted all that came into contact with it. Yet, her focus soon returned to the Sultan. She could feel his power—raw, untamed, and tied intrinsically to the djinn at his back. It wasn’t just a borrowed force; it was a symbiotic connection, much like her bond with Nia.
Another surge of potent, brain-clawing energy dug into her from below. Luckily, Her apathy under the Blood Moon refused to let her flinch. …Can this Eldritch thing be stronger than us, even under the Blood Moon? Shit. We may need to invoke the Black to counter.
The Sultan’s hand raised, his bracelet glowing brighter. “I have no desire to fight you, Child of Sorrow—not now, not when calamity looms before my city and people. But I will not hand over my daughter—not to a stranger, not to a force of destruction who breaks doors instead of knocking.”
Rachel’s mouth bunched to the side, her apathy briefly tinged with faint agitation. “And yet, you stand there talking instead of stopping me. Either you’re not as powerful as you think, which we both know isn’t the case, or you need me more than you’d like to admit.”
The Sultan’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze briefly darting to the broken gate, nearly reaching its halfway mark. “Do not mistake restraint for weakness.”
“Never,” Rachel immediately returned, resonating with him now. “Continue.”
“The seal falters, and with it, this world’s fragile balance. You claim to hunt Abu Hassan and Layla, my daughter, yet you have done more to unravel the Fable Realm than they ever could… Do not think me blind, but you have forced my hand in a…way that should be impossible. Will you at least help to fix what you have broken so brazenly?”
Rachel’s tail flicked as she considered his words, [Strategic Mind] spinning with the Blood Moon’s influence keeping her detached even as she felt the weight of the Eldritch growing. “I don’t do deals with tyrants…since I’m somewhat of a tyrant myself,” she admitted, her tone icy. “But…you have my attention. For now.”
The Sultan inclined his head, his posture calm despite the growing vibrations in the air, the words of the things in the abyss hissing directly into their souls as if utterly unguarded.
“Djinn are but tools... Their fires dim before the abyss. You wield the hammer, but the nails are countless. Why awaken what you cannot bury? Fate orders it. Misfortune thrashes. Karma answers… Watch us feast!”
“Then hear me,” he swallowed, one hand moving to stop the shakes of his other, “Beneath this city lies the Black Djinn, a creature of god-like power who found freedom by becoming a servant of the Seed of Corruption within the earth’s core, binding ancient weapons and forces, twisting them.”
The Sultan pointed a finger at her chest, distrust and caution in his voice as the rings on his finger shone with demigod-like power. “I sense that which is inside you—the similar taint of reality, fantasy…The Nightmare of Insanity. Should the gate fail entirely, as it will, it will rise, and with it, weaponry capable of tearing through both our realms… What is in that fissure can twist any fable into reality… Now, do you realize what you risked by getting my attention, Child?”
Rachel’s apathy didn’t waver, though she caught the faint tremble in Nia’s voice as she muttered, “Major, I don’t like the sound of this Eldritch being. I want to say we need the Black Moon to really understand what we’re dealing with. You sure we shouldn’t…uh…consider playing nice? Nike thinks we should. Actually…I think we have guests.”
The whispers from the gate and from within the earth grew louder, as millions of large scarabs crawled out of the sands and shifting octaves of feminine and masculine laughter vibrated from every grain of sand. Rachel’s grip on her hammer tightened. She didn’t need divine instinct to know she’d been a bit too hasty.
Perhaps I am letting myself be directed in the wrong direction… It bugs me. Something behind my ear that’s irritating… It’s like there’s something moving around the threads of misfortune I can’t see, nudging me.
“A God-empowered Mystickin?”
I’m not sure… Something. My misfortune is like a compass spinning in circles. Fate is interfering. It’s the only thing I can come up with.
Her cold red eyes locked on the Sultan, the rumble of a horn rippling through them from numberless mouths beneath the sands.“Tell you what. Give me five seconds to get some council on how to stop this calamity and figure out what the hell is going on. Be right back…”
The Sultan’s thick eyebrows furrowed as she lowered her head and closed her eyes, drawing inward to her Soul Sanctum. Who or what that is? I’m going to find out because I’ll be damned if I’m someone else’s puppet. If we have guests, let’s welcome them inside. Who is it, Eostre?
Nia’s voice became uncharacteristically hoarse for channeling the Blood Moon. “No. Selene…and Athena.”
[Time Remaining: 48 Seconds]
Rachel opened her eyes, the atmosphere heavy as she willed them to enter after catching the glorious figure of Nike sitting in her chair, the Hades pups sitting around her in their human teenage forms, tails wagging expectantly and seeming to be on their best behavior.
It wasn’t hard to tell why as the first figure emerged—a radiant force that seemed to illuminate the very fabric of Rachel’s sanctum.
Athena appeared with a commanding elegance. She was tall and regal, her presence exuding wisdom and strength in equal measure. Her armor was a masterwork of celestial craftsmanship, fashioned from polished divine silver and gold, inlaid with ornate patterns that shimmered with soft light.
Her helm, adorned with a crest of white feathers, framed her face—serene, yet stern—her storm-gray eyes piercing with the weight of countless battles and unshakable resolve as they settled on her. A flowing cloak of deep indigo trailed behind her, speckled with faint stars, as though the night sky itself had been woven into her attire.
A golden aegis rested across her shoulders, etched with the image of what Rachel assumed was Medusa, her serpentine hair writhing as though alive. In one hand, she held her spear, its gleaming tip radiating a faint blue flame that pulsed with the promise of divine judgment.
Immediately after, she felt a surge of power beyond anything she could remember as Selene appeared like the embodiment of the moon itself. She stepped from the shadow of the Blood Moon’s light hovering overhead. Her beauty was haunting, her presence both ethereal and devastatingly human in its fragility.
She wore a flowing gown of deep crimson, its fabric shimmering like liquid rubies, the folds of the dress moving like waves of blood rippling through water. It clung to her form with effortless grace, symbolic of love lost and mourning eternal—a garment that captured both the beauty and sorrow of the moon’s cycles.
Her alabaster skin glowed faintly, like the soft light of a full moon on a cloudless night, and her long, silvery hair cascaded down her back, tipped with the faintest streaks of crimson at the ends. Her eyes, pale as moonlight and deep as the ocean, held an aching melancholy that pierced through Rachel’s stoicism. They seemed to see everything—her triumphs, her fears, her failures—all laid bare under the moon’s watchful gaze.
In her hands, Selene cradled a delicate chalice made of moonstone, its rim etched with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with lunar energy. Wisps of silver mist rose from it, dissipating into the air like sighs carried on a breeze. When she spoke, her voice was soft and lilting, yet heavy with meaning—a lullaby laced with grief.
“Limpid Hare of Misfortune,” Selene said, her tone like the caress of a cold wind against the warmth of the Blood Moon’s sorrow. “You’ve called me into this place of crossroads, where decisions ripple outward like waves in still water. The burden you fear to carry… I know it well. It is a shame our time together is limited.”
Athena’s faint smile curved her lips, conveying approval tempered by expectation as she stole the room. “We finally meet… And don’t you look wonderful compared to the last time I saw you, my precious little Nike?” she whispered, her stern facade melting as she rushed to embrace her recovering Wings of Victory. “I see Rachel has been treating you well.”
“As well as any mortal can, My Lady.”
“Excellent… Well, as Selene said, we do not have long. Yet, we shall have time to talk by the night’s end. I will make sure of it,” she stated, her fierce focus returning as she released her gentle embrace of the white-haired Personification to look back at her. “Shall we begin?”
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Comments
Opala
🩸💪🔨. Also: "The Eldritch, Rachel intnerally" n and e should switch places
