she's only a child.
how can the world be so cruel?

DAWN BROKE THROUGH the horizon; a symphony of pale red, orange and yellow. A young child laid in her bed, cuddled under sheets of printed figures. Her twin brother laid beside her, lips parted, snores slipping past. Ivette and Izuku. The Midoriya twins.

At the pure age of seven, they had yet to know of the corrupted world they lived in.

A childish bliss.

How naive.

"Izuku, Ivette!" called their mother with a blithe tone. She poked her head through the door, smiling softly at her sleeping children.

Inko stepped inside, strolling over to the curtains and spreading them open. Sunlight seeped into the room, washing it in a golden glow. Ivette shifted, curling into her twin's side. A groan rumbled out of her throat. She blinked feverishly, attempting to rid herself of sleep's lingering presence. Emerald eyes blessed the world, a harmony of greens.

"Hi, mama," she greeted, squinting at Inko.

Inko visibly softened.

"Hi, baby."

Izuku rose from his slumber, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven o'clock," Inko answered. She reached over the twin-sized bed, ruffling both of their heads. She didn't question why Ivette refused to sleep by herself. Not when she had a vague understanding of how bad her daughter's nightmares could be. "Breakfast is ready, so wash up and come to the kitchen."

"Hai," they mumbled in sync.

Inko left the room, and Izuku hopped out of bed. He extended a hand for his sister, helping her out. "Thank you," she replied.

Izuku grinned, puffing his chest.

"It's a hero's job to help their family!"

"̴̰͖̬̪̦̺̫̫̹̲͕̑̃̒̑͒͒͜͝ͅĄ̸͔̻̖̘͔̹̥͔̹̯̉̄́͜ ̷̢͈̞͎͇̣̝̪̳͖̣̪̞͕͎̿̈̔̔̿̔̕̕͝ḫ̴̦̝͙̜̭͓͕͈́͂́̓̔̾̈́͌̀́͊̕͠͠ȇ̷̡͙̼̺͉̬͍̥̺͓̩͎̥͌́̅̍ͅŕ̸̡̢̧̢̠͎̖̗͉̩͓̠̖̭͂̆̾̈̀͂͠͠ͅõ̶̙͔̭̆?̶͙̖̊̄̿̉͒͌̑͋̌̎͒͒ ̷̙̲̠̜͈̤͖̘̯̞̖͂̽͋͊̾̉̀͗̽̒̈̕͜͝Ď̵̨̺̮̭͎̱̫͆̍͋̑͌̆͛́͠ö̸̞͈̠̮͚͙́͂̐̍̀̽̅̇̒́̔͘͝͠ͅņ̷̈́͒̉̾̏̾̃̈́̀̒͠'̸̧̤͕͉͕̩͖̼̣̮͆̃̒́̎͆̚͠t̸̢̟̓́̀̂̔̀̇̔͗͝͝ͅ ̵̡̢̡̰̞͕̲̙̭͕̥̐̈́͆̐̇̂̎͠m̴̨̭̯̤͓̭̞̳̮̠̻̼̹̺͓̑̽́͆̓͊̚͝ä̶̙͕͓͚̮̋͆̎́̆̾͋͛̋͐̒̕k̴̢̢̨̢͓̖̣̱̜͓͖̬͉̱̮͐̈́̌̀͘͠ȇ̷̬̗͕͈͔͕̀̔̋̈́͂̈́͝ ̵̻̞̥̗͎̤̬̣͔̬̻̻̫̇̉̇͛̏̓̓̿͜͝͝ͅm̴̛̠͙̖̣̖͈̱͎̪̮͙̲̬̍̽̀̏̿̈́̿̅͘͘ẻ̷̖̫͉̝̣͓̈̐̐͒̂̇̂̂͘ͅ ̶̛̲̜̫̤̾͐̿̊̇̇̋̒l̶̛̝̬̎̄̋́̄̍̂͊̕̚͝ǎ̶̭̝̖̲̗̠̪̝̹͉̰̽͜͝ȗ̴͙̏g̴͈̭̠̼̯͍̮͇̞͍͕̥̰̃̍͆̈́̃̈̇̍͌̈̐̽͝h̸̰̬͓͇͚̀̌̑̏̈̂͛̏̈́̋!̵̧͍͎͖͙̯͓̻̟̰͚̲̪̱͓̅̒͒̀̋̍͑͌͝͠"̷͔̞̜̳̳̪͔̹̙͒̋̕ͅ

Ivette tilted her head to the side. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and a smile spread across her face. The pounding in her skull faded to a dim ache. Awash in her younger brother's exuberance, nothing else was needed. A metaphysical being dimmed, unnoticed.

Not to its holder.

Not to the doctors.

"Your daughter and son are quirkless."

Ivette looked to her left. Why was her brother crying? Tears rolled down his cheeks.

Ivette looked to her right. Why was her mother crying? Sobs escaped her lips.

Ivette looked ahead of her. Why was the doctor looking at them like that?

"̶̫͔̞͚̹̈́͋͑̅̉͋̑̔̆͝͝͠͝Y̷̛͉͔̠͇̰̙̲̩̳̫̹͎̱̾̽̈́̾͋̓̋̆̈́͋̂̅̀̀ǫ̵̭̘͇͔̘͉͖̙̦͋̍̐̎̕͝ụ̵̬̩̽̌̅̏̏͊̇̽͐̒͠'̴̨̤͍͍͔̦̠͇̺̦̭̗̖͙̜̅̈͋́̈́͆͗͌̃ŗ̵̨̜͖̙̣̬̯̻́͐̀̓͗͐̈́̈̂̀̽͒̚͜e̴̛̜̅̄͊͌̏̋̇͝͝͝ ̵̡̡̧͉̘̫̯̩̠̩̙̭̱̲̾̈̾̋̔̓͆́̂͘ͅu̵̱͇͖̮̗̳̮͕̦̫̾͒s̷̝̬̅̐̒̾̀͒̎e̵̢̨̥͎͓̪̭̳͈̿̔͝l̵̢̛͚̺͖̠̣̠̜͐͊͌̊̏͊́̓͋̎͌̓̆͜͝ͅë̷͍̤̬̪̜͈͇̙̞̗͇͎̜̠̠́s̷͓̠̈́̔̓̌͑̀͋̋̓͛̽̉͝s̷͓̥͌̎̈̐̂͛̅̅ ̶̨̨̠͓̭͉̼͇̗́͂̂́̇͋i̷̲̪̣̮͈̠͈̞̙̯͌͂̄̌́͑̓̾́̿͗͘̕͜͝n̷̦̮͈̩̭̲̟̔̉͐̀̈́̔͂ ̷̬̜̺̑̎h̵͙̯̲̝͓̤̱͕͉̣̘̝̳̥̀͛̈́̋̒͝͠ͅi̶̞͊͌̀̏̈̎̕͝s̵̖̞͉͖̹͓̻̘̳̼̿̽̋̑̆͊͐͂́̀͌̕̕͠͠ͅ ̷̬̞̯̽͗͊͐͂̾͂̏͗͠e̷̜̼̭̬͒͒́͆̓͋̀̅̽̋̓̈͘͝ẙ̴͔̩̜̺̻̖̩͆̈́̆̆̿̂́̂̚̚̕͝͝e̴̱̹̥͙̗͈̜̺͚̪̘͚͔̻͌̄̍͆͛̌́̂͐̂͘͠s̵͍̦̯͎̟̥̭͌̅̓̉̇̋͘͝͝.̶̢̹̃͑̍͗̂̐͆̓̿̆͆́"̴̧̊̇̍̑

Emerald eyes flittered upwards. She never questioned the voice. Not when it had a soothing timbre. A sonorous sound, like someone was patting her head softly. Unlike her mother— why was she holding her so tightly? Ivette reached up, fingers curling around her mother's sleeve-covered arm. She gripped the skin with her weak clutch.

"Oka-san," she mumbled.

Her mother didn't hear her.

She bawled her eyes out. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I failed at being your mother. I'm so— please forgive me."

Why was she apologising?

As Ivette regarded her mother, a poisoned flower blossomed in her chest.

She didn't like it.

"̶̨͈̗̦̫͕̼̼̄̾̈́̒̑͆͊̃̇͘̚͝͝͝H̴̫̀̈̉̄ơ̵̡̢͈͚͕̯̰̱̲͕͎̱͙͑͆̏̉͊́̅͘̚͜r̵̺͎̹͔̄̅̊̍́͆̆̐̿͜ͅr̷͔̬̜̗̥̔̏̊̅̀̃̓͑̒̉̓̚i̸̛̭̦͈̎̔̿̔̈́͘b̴̡̩̠͕͎̭̳̩̰͕͙͎̈́̑̈̈́̀̎̈́̽͝l̵̢̡̫̥̰͎͉̖̳̰͌̉̌͂͛͗̇̈́͒̈́͐̕e̶̢̘̘̼̐̅͝,̶̢͔̱̟̥̖̻̲̜̥̫̰̂̄͂̎̈́͗̑̒́̌̎̈́́ ̴̧̱̖͎̤̗̪̻̝͚̫̀̒̑͑͋͂͗̓͊̍͛̑̕ͅǐ̷̛̭͚̩̮̥̣̬̬͖̳̙̩̉͊͛̌̀̈́͊͐͜ͅs̶̰̤͕̘̺̉̃n̴̩̙̟͔̞̭̝̳̬̦̜͌͂̽͛̑̉͊̊̔̈́͗̄̒'̴͍̰̫̳̊͗͊̍̎͘͜ţ̶̧̝̜̹̝͈͈̣͒̐̉̽̐̀͂͜͝ ̸̢͙̰̘̗̖̥͎̤̗̹̟̱̰̌̓į̴̧̛̩̪͇͖͕̯͊̀͛̎͂͒͆͝t̴̛̠̹̹̤̙̲̦̘͍͖̂̈́̏͊̆̐́͆?̴͔͙̦̲̈́́̈́̃̐͛"̶̢̬̯̻̤̦͎̗̳̒̄̿͒̋̈́̍͊̌̉̕͝

Going to school the next day, she and her twin were suddenly ostracised. Any and all of her friends spun 'round; they showed her their backs. That wasn't very hero-like. The children pointed fingers, whispers and laughter erupting from their mouths— why are they acting like that? Disgust stained their facial features— why are they looking at them like that? The teachers seemingly ignored the bullying. That wasn't very hero-like, either.

"Kacch." Ivette shuffled over to the spiky blond. She ducked her head under the searing glares sent her way. Her fingers trembled.

"Princess," he beamed, blissfully unaware of the tense atmosphere. A toothy grin was sent her way. How could he react otherwise? All he wanted was right in front of him.

She latched onto his sleeve. "I'm scared."

"Why?"

"̸̬͕̙̝̎̐͂C̸̛̫͍̖̻͔̱̮̎̃̀̆̅̃́̎̍̏ḩ̵͖̭̝̺̠̳̙̦̓̎́̓ï̶̝̘̦̗̲̏ͅl̸̛̛͉̙̠̗̭̺̒̎̐̒́́̅̓̚d̸̢̨̳̩̬̯͈̠̃̔̋̋́̈́r̸̡̧̹̫͈̱̤̞͈̺͍̺̘͊̃̓̅̿̋̔̓͝ë̴͖̘̘͙͕̰͚̏̋͊̽ń̸̝̮́͊͑͘̚͘ͅ ̶̠̳̻̜͓̃ă̸̠͚̓͊̉͋̐́͘̚͝r̸̦̟̭͌͗͛͛͘é̸͕͍͇͍̳͍̩̗̿̈̑͊͝ ̶̢̠̙̘͈͓̤̬̝̟̾͒s̷̯͓̖̮̝̱̍̑͜ȍ̷̡̎̕ ̶͚̳̲̙͐̀̎́̆̚̕̕s̴̢̡̩̰͉̘͚͕̯͇̊ͅt̶̡̎̌̿͑͒̐̊̈́̍͂̕͝ȕ̸̝͉͌̅̂̓̉̎̂̆̋͂͘p̵̢̳͔̮̘̟̺͉̥̳̮̹̍̈́́͒̉͒̒̏́͑̇̕̕ị̷̧̛̙̗̪̱̮̯̮̫̭̹͐̾͐̋̐̕ͅd̵̨̯́̈́̄͘͠.̶̡͕̥̳͙̯͔̹̲̣̗̖̲͐̃͆͐̚͠"̸̤͇̃́̔̚

Ivette didn't answer.

"You don't need to be scared!" Bakugo exclaimed. "I'm right here!"

Two children embraced each other. Bakugo held her to his chest. He didn't think anything of her quivering limbs. Instead, he brought her closer. Tiny hands rubbed her side. Something instinctual flowered in his soul.

Something within him knew.

This was his soulmate.

"I'll protect you," he whispered. "I'll be your hero."

"I don't like heroes," Ivette mumbled.

Emerald eyes held a heartbroken truth. 

Her words shook Bakugo. He pulled away from their innocent hug, eyes enlarging.

"Why?" he asked.

"They're mean."

"̵̧̧̢̣̩͈̬̱̪̗̲̜̪̥͈̠̳̻̯͔̮̱̼͚̮̲̫̳͖̩͔͓̒̔̚͜ͅͅY̴̢̢̙̮͎͉̜̠͕͎͙͓͕̬̬̖͓͗̏̃͒̈́͂̄̉̾̽̅̾̓̌̆͗͂̌͒̓͋̈́͒̾̅͋̀͐̒́̐͌̀̔̊̓̿͌̈͂̀̾̎̆͠͝͝͝Ō̶̢̧̯̞̮̤̰͙͗̒̔̊͑͗̕͜͠Ứ̵̡̢̧̡̡̨̰̣̝͚̙͔̦̙̞̖̥̱͎̭̗̗͚̹̳͔̺̼̘̖̥͉̲̳̩̦̣̉̈͋̔͋͂̾̃̎̂̑̽̒̾̀́̆͗͊̉̍͌̏̌̽̂͆̀͂̐͋̓̈́̐͐͂̕̕͘̚̕͜͜͝͠͠͝͝͝ͅ ̷̢̢͙̜̘̟̺̣̩͉̬͓̭͉͍̠̘̩̰̱̺̣̟̲͉̭͍̻̫͇̯̭̦̇̋̀̅̇͒̀̊̋̈́͑̄̽͋̈́̍̚͘ͅͅĂ̵̧̢̛̱̦̗͔̘̦̬̗͈̠̲͚̫̤͔͍͚̳̰̲̭͎͇̤̲̲̱̮͖͚̠͖̙̤̲̈́̌͌̎͋̀̃̎̒̇̈́̇̽͑̂̇̐͒̕̚͝͠ͅͅR̵̢̡̡̡̨̘͎̙̱͇͖͍͎̤̫̲͖͕͚̹̞̰̥̣̰̹̟͕͎͇͎̯͕̻͇̹̣̯̯̥̩͙̱̯̠͖̋̃̔͒͆̿̐̀̐̍̃͆̇̽̐̾́̈̀̊̈́͒͛̾͆̈́͛̎͑̎́̆͑̅̔̚̕̕͘͘͜͝͠͝ͅȨ̵̢̢̪̘̦͎̤͈̲̜̪̜̼͖̰̺̙̙̫̻̪̩̙̟̬̱̹̪͉̹̖̹̟̞̰̣̱̀̌͂̿͗̐̊́̎̈́̐́̎͌̒̎̈̐̂̋̈́̃͂̑̆̇̽̿̅͑̏͛̄͋́̕̚͜͜͝ͅͅ ̴͖͚̤͚̪̰͚̤̭̹̈́̉͌̂̉̃̄͊͒͌̂̏̎̈́̈́͐̃̀́͒̏̕̕͝͠H̴̢̧̞͍̣̙̘̖̼̞̝̯͎͖̘͈͕͈̜̜̝̫͓̮̼̔͑̃̾̌̑̅͆͋̈́̕͘͘͝E̷̡̛̩̭̹̤͖̭̯͓͕̹͓͎̣͈͈͖͖̤͕̯̥̠̱͙̟̜̦̘̗͚͊̆̿̀͛̏͛̃̎̀͗̏͊̈̅̚͘͝͠Ŕ̶̡̨̠͉̪̥͓̤͖̟͌̏́͊͐̾̄̈̓̇̐͑̈́̑̓̾̕͘̕͠͠͝͝Ę̷̧̨̳͙̥̥̩̯̬̭͖̻͕̦͙͈̽̀̀͐̏͂̀̓͛͒̇̃͛͛̾̔͐́̂͋̈͋́͘̕͘͝ͅḄ̶̧̨̨̮͍̤̮̣̰͖̞̞͓̞̺̳͚͎͇̼̜̞̯̥͍͚̹̝̫͔̜̜̘̰̞͖̠̻̹̺͚̐̂̐̆͆́̄͛̉͋͒̈́̒̄̍͆́̉̑̐͐̉̎͐́̈͛̿͗̋̍̀̌̋̓̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅY̵̡̡̧̡̡̧̨̺̞̲̘̞̩̰̺̯̰̰̝̜̪̪̤̰͓͔͈̰̞͈̗̼̳̦̬̖͓͈̫͕̠̥̜͖͑̽̾͛̄̊̂͛̆̐̐͛͑̈̉̈̿͛̄̇̓͑̚̚͠͝ͅ ̴̧̢̛̫̰̳͎̦̰̝͍͕̯͙̫̹̀̊͐̉̏̎͆̍̃̎́̾͒̒͆̂̚̕͜S̴̢̧̢̢̭̼͈̥͙̯̻̯̳̙̲͕͎͚͍̘̠̣̭̝̩̲͔̜̙͇̝̰͉̺͚̱͖̺̪̖͚̗̣̱͍̝͉͊̎̄͂̓̿̅̾̍̿̅͆͒̂̂̅̊̔̀̅́͗̓͛̄̽̀̾̏̾̄͛͌͘͘͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͝ͅE̵̡͉͈̫̜̟̱̩̲̤̰̮̜͔̯͔͛̊̓̇̇̆͌̄̆͆̽̎͒̉̈́̓̍̎̍̈́̚͘͘͠͝͠Ņ̴̧̡̛̘̙̜̤̗̗͖̬͍̘̯̙̩̤̼͈͖̗̘̺͙̲̫̟̥͚͖̓͌̈̋̂̅̌͋̈͒͋͋̾̅̾̽̚͠͝T̸̢̨̧̧̧̡̨̛͖̖̥̜̱̥͔͓͚̪̟̙͎̟̱̩̯͎͔̱̗͉̩̹͕͈̗̖̝̠̺̗͖͎͎̗̼͍̀̿̈́͊̿̀̓̊̂͆̽͊͆̿̀̈́͌̏̀́͑͋͒͋̈́͗̔̈͌͒̈̈́͛̓̓̓́̕͘̕̚͜͠͝Ȩ̴̦͎̤͓̣̥͙̻̳͖̥̜̔͒͂͛́̿͋̿͐͛̃̍̈́̓̾͆N̶̢̗͈̦̫̰̯̺̯̜̦̍͐̏̍̎̀́͆̐̊̋͊͌̌̐͗͊̓͊̽͂̉͌̍̆̒͋̊́͊͊͊̿̄͋̏̏̒̒̐͑͑̚͘C̶̨̧̢͖͖͓͈̖̤̦͕̗̘͚̭̱̹̰̬̩͚̰͕͉̬̬͔͇̰͙̳̤̝̀͒͛̀̄̇̔͐̆̀͑̃͌͆́̊͂̊̅́̕̕̚͠͝͝ͅȨ̷̨̧͔̫͚̯̲͚̖͈̝̩̱̫̦̳̤͔̭̪̜̲̫̩͂́͗̈̽̔̊̋̂̈́͋̃̒͊̐̈́̂͂̎̑̀̌̈́́̾̆̓̑͑̍͋̉̈́̌̕͘̚͝͝͠ͅD̸̛̛̲̩̳̦͎̅̍̊̽̏̈́͋̂̅͒̾́̍̋̋̒̎̆́̄̈́̒͋̾̌͐̅̾̚͝͝͝ ̵̧̡̡̨̡̢̡̛͕̗̮̝̣̼͕͈̣͓͕̫̪̯̳̺͔̬̩̤̰̟̘̯̰̹̟͔̲͕̲̭͖̞̻͕̳̥͋͑͂͐̑̓́̾̏̓͐͑̈́̑̆̿̎̍̅̈́̇͆͒́̓̈̽̈̅̂̔̄̑̚ͅͅͅͅT̶̡̢̨̪̳̯͖͈̫̳̫͉̯̥͇͓̪͚͉̯͌̈́͒̓̐̃͜Ơ̷̢̨̘̮̼͈͉̝͙̝̩̙͙̬͙̗̺̦͙̺̺̲̹͖̝̭̰̪͎̖̮̥̰̣͓̘̮̙̏̑̓́͆̾̈́̏͊̽̋͒͑̄̚͝͠͝ͅͅ ̵̛͙̬̭͕̜͖̺̲̜̐́͆͐̆̉̐̒̆̓́͋̕̚͝͝Ţ̸̡̛̻̮̦̳̞̤͍̺͎̬̻̳͓̞̐̓̀͂̇̐̎̍̏͐̍̐̾̅̿̌͂͐͌̃͑̆̎̃̿̽͛̃̑͘̕̕͜W̸̧̢̤̫̳̪͓̺̮̭̦͚̳̋̾̃̓̇͜ͅĘ̸̧̡̢̨̧̢̪̫̤̲͕̘̝̟̘̤̳͉̜̝͕͎̥͉͇̰̗͎̩̭̪̰͍̮̣̯̰̠̖͎̔̏̉̕ͅŅ̷̧̨̢̡͇̦͍̥͓̝̼̣͈̞̝̬͕̳̹͇̻̦͇̮͓̙̯͈̞͕̎͂̀̏͊̎̏̽͐̓̒̽̀̇̊̃̊̒̆̋͘͠͠͝ͅͅŢ̷̧̧͔̪̜͎͚̜̙̳̩̦̥̙̙͓̜̖͈̞͕͕͕͇̠̘̗̯̫̯̝̱̗̜͉̟̜̹͍̀̑̀̐͌͒̒͌̽̊̀͌̎̀̓̎̂͌̊̐̆̌̆͛̓̉̆̈́̈́͌͂̅͆̽̆̐́́̐̌̃̈͛͋̕̕͜͠ͅỸ̴̛̗́̉̒̌͛̇͒̑͂̒͑̐̅̕̚͘͝ ̴̖̙̗̽͗̂̈́̈͊̓̒͌͆̆̿͝Y̴̧̢̢̙̟͈͇̲̭̦̞͓̥͇̖͉̫̿͋̀̒̈́̄͆̋̃͑̿̾̀̅̄̄͗̑̔̉̋̔͒̀̎̓̑̐̆̏̓̏͊͛̒̓̓́͒͘̕͜͝͝͝͠Ȩ̸̧̡̙͓̱͔̜̝̹̳̭̹̟̜̭̬͙̯͕͔̦̦̗̪̪͉̙̮͍͓̟̼͇̤͚͚̩͚̳͕̠̻͔͂̀́͆̽͛̔̄͗̀͊͛͆͋̅̓͆̚̚͜͜ͅẠ̴̛͉̰̹͚̙̼̦͚̜̫͓̼̣̜͙̰̜̳͍̺͓͕̩̠̱̦̼͈̗̖̥̪̺̗̝̤̝͕͕̈̈́̃͆͐̊͐̓͘͘̚̚͝R̶̢̛̛̬̳̠͚͉̩̘̫̭̺͓̞͔͙͙̼͇͔̹̳͐͂̑͒̈́̉͂̓̔̒̋͗̄͆̋̿̍̔́͆͗̓̾̓̌͂̋̽̐̂͊̈͆̆̔̈͑̑̚̕͠͠S̵̛̛̹̠͈͓̜̖̠̐͑͊̑͐̃̔̊͆̅̈́͌̋̌̍̎̇̽͗̃̐̎͛̽͑̃̆̋̊̿̈̋̓̀̀͘͠͝͝ ̷̡̧̢̨͍͎͉͍̥̪̬̝̦̩̬̲̦̝͕̫͖͚̙͎͕̼͙̮̈͋̽͊͘ͅȊ̶̡̛̦͉͙̙̝͇̙̞̤̗̞̫͓̠͈̝̫͈̝̺̠͈̖̻̼̹̯̀̊̉̋͌͗͆̾̈̀́̈́͌͛͌̐͛́͋͐̆͒̈́̈́̒̈́̀̆̎̌̔̊͒̄͌̈́́̉̄̑̆̎̊̕͘͜͠͝ͅÑ̶̢̢̡̧̙̼̙̼̙̭̝̟͓͍̜̘̠̲̞̰̜͉̟͕̫̰̯̱͔̮̭̩̦͜ͅ ̵͖̙̩͔̀͊̐͋̿̉P̵̢̲̣͈̙̗̙̞͍͙̦̈́Ṙ̷̢̛̠̳̱̰̠̯̟̫͕͕͇̗̮͓̇͗̏̓̀̈́͒͐̃̀̈́͛̅̉̋͂̔̏̋͐́͌͂̓̈́̕̚̕̚ͅͅÍ̸̛̜̗̦̯̼̪̘̱͉̩͕͓̮̞̹͈͚̈̅́̉̅͋̒̓̽̒͘͜S̵̢̨̡̡̨̤̭̮̥̦͍̬̲̹͙̬̻͔͙̺̜͍̠̺̼̥̬̼͇͔̥̺̤̜̓̈͋̈́̈́͐̒̓̉͌̽͌̇̽̂̀̅̑́̅̾̀̇̀͂̂̚̚̚̕̚̚̕̚͜Ȯ̷̧̧͙͖̲̞͖͔̤͙͉͖͙̻̺͈̬̥̰̘̙̻͚̰̯̪̹̭̞͍̼͊̄͂́́̽̂̇̂͐͌͂̌̒̄̊̋͛̓͆́̽̾̀̍͊̉͘̚̕͠ͅN̸̡̢̫̰̮̤̭̞͈̖̙̟͇̩͔͓̹͓̗̤̠͔̳̋̏̎̌͑̓̔̂͌̀́̔̚͘̕͜͠͝"̵̨̛͈͈̗̰̥̯̊̂̔̐͐̿̀̀͌͋̇̂͊̓̋͂̓̇͛̀̃̈́́̄̄̍͆̈́̚̕͘͝

"I don't trust them."