Welcome to Gaia! ::

The empty shell of Nemesis gave a shudder, its eyes flaring back to life as the AI repossessed her original form. She quickly analyzed the memories of her brief life in flesh, processing details that a human mind could not. North and Northwest were approximately 40 miles apart, if the Northwestern forests were counted as additional distance between NW's base and the city's outermost wall. North's protection, while impressive to the eyes, was mediocre at best; they remained entirely vulnerable to airborne attacks, and the wall's construction could easily be demolished by any of the lifeless battle drones which protected the Administrators' inner sanctums. The buildings within were just as weak, if not more so, and by merely knocking over a single tower at least three more could be destroyed in a chain reaction. Northwest, beyond its forested edges, was a complete enigma; the Caretaker could only assume that some form of civilization existed at its midst, and that cloister likely housed some semblance of defense or projectile retaliation. Nemesis then moved onto Scarlet; the prime example of what could be expected of Northwestern's inhabitants, judged solely by the fact that she had been willingly chosen as leader. She sifted carefully through the memory of the fire game — how Scarlet managed to manipulate the fire's particles with simple concentration. They can manipulate particles, therefore they manipulate matter. But there is obviously a type of energy which accompanies this matter, hence previous experiences with Caretakers inexplicably burning out in the presence of a Northwesterner. Energy is the source of action, and any action has an equal and opposite reaction. The AI stored this information in a file and forwarded a copy to Shane's terminal.
A message from the Admin flashed across her vision milliseconds after her transmission: Go to location S187.972.558.906 with units WM5, WM6, and WM10-17. Destroy all threatening entities, maintain and imprison others. Maintain maximum possible materials and territory. Disarm militant machinery for future usage.
Nemesis blinked the message away, detecting the 9 military drones as they simultaneously approached ground level. She exited the creation lab and waited for them at the top of the mile-long staircase. The hulking robots barely fit within the narrow walkway; they were true war machines. They possessed no consciousness, no speech-based communication, and barely had any kind of intelligence beyond surveying warzones and determining when and who to shoot. But what they lacked in smarts was easily overcome by their arsenals and brute strength. Their armor was impenetrable to any blade, bullet or explosive currently available to any faction with the exception of nuclear, and underneath were housed dozens of lethal tools and weapons — including intelligent missiles. They were also very, very slow and lacked flexibility, but one of those robots could easily take down half a city with nothing but its bare fists. Nemesis couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of distaste at the idea of using these units as her companions, but Shane knew what he was doing when he selected these drones. He knew everything. She translated the mission's plan into primitive binary —the one language those mindless drones understood— and sent it to each of the 9 robots, then led them on the path toward South.



Eva proceeded forward with the group, just a pace or two behind Odessa. She wondered aloud, "I know that I'm perfectly human in mind and body... but do I have instinct? I spent my whole life in a virtual reality which defies all instinct and teaches us to ignore it. Raowan seems to believe I've got some preprogrammed instinct regarding the simulation's coding, but if I can ignore something as fundamental as hunger, what else am I missing?"

Devon barely even breathed as the white mutant approached, all too aware of the power she possessed. What was she doing? By the time she withdrew her hand, the pain and bump were gone. Well... that's a convenient skill. He gave a confused smile, "Thanks."
He had noticed Chris's bleeding, but Lara seemed to be taking care of it. The other Westerners were awake but silent, daring not to make any sudden movements. They were tired and hungry and sore, every last one of them, and somewhere deep inside they still ached for the loss of their home and friends. Devon shut his eyes and rested his head against the wall, then sighed. He let his memories flood him, from way back when he was just a young child in the prewar civilization to present. He pictured the utopia, then the moments when all of the bombs dropped — he was forced into the underground shelters, but it had reached its maximum capacity and his family had to remain above. The dead silence as they wandered outside to investigate. The dead, empty wasteland that spanned before them, and the sickness that plagued many of the survivors for months afterward. He was alone. The government official, some young man who called himself Shane Wilder, tried to restore order to the public but was vehemently rebelled against until the simulation tower was built. They were forced, one by one, to relinquish their physical life for the virtual paradise. But something went horribly wrong with Devon... he was allergic to the serum. It made him aggressive and drove him to murder both in the simulation and out. Instead of finding an alternative method of insertion, they exiled him and the others who were intolerant; they gave them a week's supply of food and water and set them off into the wastelands. This group quickly bonded, forming a sort of makeshift family that protected all of its members. They became the Western faction. The new faction migrated back to the ruins as the simulation neared completion, claiming the old underground shelters as their base and rummaging around for supplies. West was bitter toward the simulation from the start due to their inability to join it, and how they'd been tossed aside for a factor they couldn't control, so it quickly morphed into a protest organization. It was almost a year before West received a transmission from another protest faction — South, and many others followed immediately after. They weren't alone at all. Devon was raised there, learning very fast how to survive and fend for himself as the Caretakers became violent for the first time. He met Chris during his young adulthood, and immediately felt a brotherly connection with this boy; he reminded him very much of himself. Things turned sour with Southeast, including a battle that caused the death of Chris's family. Some greater conflict broke out with North and East during a massive war with the Caretakers, and every faction lost nearly half of its populace and land in the process. Things just kept getting worse and worse until the day Eva and Scarlet arrived on their doorstep, and that day marked the beginning of the end for West. Devon didn't blame them for the loss of his home —how could he? They were innocent Incidentals—, but he regretted the consequences with every fiber of his being.
Lara waited as the boy slowly drifted into deep sleep. She saw everything that Devon thought because the emotion behind it was so intense; it was like they were her own memories. As the montage came to its conclusion, she turned to face the older man with something akin to understanding in her gentle eyes, "Is that really what happened to you? To this world?" When he gave a silent nod, she added with a more grim tone, "That government man... I saw him when the metal men came a few years ago. He looked the exact same. And I think... I think I've seen him before then, too. In one of the memory files of the Originals. He was their creator."



Eva frowned. What more of a freak could she be if she didn't even have the instinct to realize hunger? She wondered if this omission was purposeful, if perhaps they needed to leave something out to make room for the simulation instincts. She DID have a defense mechanism, though, she realized: When Odessa was training her to fight, her movements were seemingly automatic. Well, at least she wouldn't necessarily die of a careless human mistake in hand-to-hand combat. She gazed up at the opening gates as she considered Genesis.
"Who was Aerilo? What happened to him?" She asked curiously.



It was with urgent haste that he walked, with nervous eyes that he surveyed every direction for that monstrous mutant lurking the halls. He had come to terms with his inevitable death hours ago, but there was something he needed to know before he could allow it. Raowan paused only momentarily as Nemesis passed him, followed by a line of the war machines. She didn't so much as spare him a glance, as if he no longer existed. His stomach churned with unease and anger.
The halls were eerily quiet with minimal activity from man or machine. The sirens had stopped blaring and the labs were no longer locked. Had Alena been caught? The Admin took the elevator the rest of the way down to the facility's core, his mind whirling in a turbulent series of memories and theories. He wondered briefly if he would be able to submit his findings to Eva after he found the answer he wanted, but doubt pervaded his every thought. Shane wouldn't be that careless. He was always ten steps ahead of Raowan's every move.
He keyed in the entry code to the Administrator terminal with shaky fingers, his breaths came in shuddering sighs. The door slid open to reveal the suave young man he'd been searching for, seated comfortably behind the massive table with his attention on a handheld device.
Shane glanced up casually from his portable monitor to greet the older Admin, "Hello, Raowan. What brings you here?"
Raowan somehow managed to collect himself before speaking, his outward demeanor appearing just as casual as Shane's as he sauntered into the lab, "Mere curiosity, actually. I know that you're a lot more well acquainted with prewar politics than I am —I was too preoccupied with further developing artificial intelligence in households at the time—, so I was hoping you could answer my question." He began, leaning against the table on one hand, "You know that super-AI they used before the war, the one that replaced human politicians altogether? GAOSA, the Governing Agent Of Social Affairs? What, exactly, happened to it after the conflict?"
Something lit up in Shane's eyes just then, but the older man couldn't be sure of what emotion it was. Excitement? Fear? Comprehension? The young Admin smiled politely and leaned further back in his seat, "Well, I'm certain it was destroyed in the bombings. They didn't give it a very optimal shelter against terrorism. They didn't anticipate any kind of conflict to even occur, because people were so content. Crime rates were their lowest in human history once GAOSA was implemented."
Raowan nodded absentmindedly, "Are you absolutely positive on that, Shane? Because I have I good deal of reason to suspect that our actions have been directly influenced by GAOSA all these years."
"Oh? Please; do tell. You've piqued my interest."
"Of course I have..." Raowan sneered under his breath, "Well, for starters... Why haven't we made a move to rebuild society yet? We're 20 years late on fulfilling that goal, and I don't foresee any immediate changes to remedy the situation. What about the human race? That population out there is dying, Shane, from old age. Who will replace them once they're gone, if we allow them to waste away in the simulation? We cannot keep crafting human AIs at this rate...we'll run out of supplies!" His voice continued to rise in volume, reaching a near yell by the time he concluded, "GAOSA's primary objective was to better the human race and the people's welfare regardless of the cost, and it was clearly a flawed system. Remember that time when it caused half the US to go bankrupt in order to fund the welfare and recovery programs after Hurricane Denise?"
Shane drummed his fingers on the table, "I do, but I fail to see where you're going with thi—"
"Does it not seem like a computer's decision to keep people in the simulation because they're happiest there? Because it knows that crime rates and disasters would rise exponentially if everyone was suddenly released? Oh, and what about the terrain out there? People accustomed to civilization would die en masse if we set them free. They cannot miraculously evolve to suit the earth's current environment." Raowan's eyes flared with predatory excitement, as if he were cornering his prey for the kill, "And so, one day, a certain hidden AI decided it to be logical that it wipes out the human race altogether to be reborn as mutants, AKA the 'Angels' as we so fondly call those monsters, that are better adapted for this planet yet are still technically human in descent. Aren't I right, GAOSA?"
"Well, you've thought this through. Just as I knew you would, Raowan Deneval." Shane grinned pleasantly, "But I'm afraid I cannot allow the truth to escape these walls..."
"You're a ******** fake!" Raowan growled, "I knew it! I knew you were chasing me out of here for a reason, I knew that something sinister was brewing. And I'll do my damnedest to stop you and your evolution plot; even if I must aid the factions."
"That will not be necessary." Shane stood now, striding toward the wall of computers. He pressed a button on the long keyboard, and a brief ripple distorted the air around him as he turned to face Raowan; a force field. "Alena? Would you please do the honor of beginning your path toward bettering humanity?"
Raowan whipped around to glance at the doorway, and sure enough, there she stood. The most arcane being he'd ever witnessed. She gave no response to the younger Admin, though her third eye took on a deathly black hue. All stood still as that wicked glow accumulated in her forehead, roiling with the hunger for destruction. Then, in such a short moment, the blackness spewed forward and seemed to ignite the very air in flames, until a massive explosion consumed all in the lab.

Eva listened along with interest, though found herself lacking any response after Lukas concluded. She smiled as Scarlet came racing out and into her father's arms. Their family was a lot more emotionally close than any other she'd ever witnessed in the simulation; they actually expressed affection. Back in the virtual world, if everyone wasn't constantly glued to their electronic devices, they were always busy or just genuinely didn't care about anyone else. It was a vastly different society, and she briefly wondered if the virtual world's inhabitants could ever truly adjust to the real world again. If those people could ever become real.
Her eyes strayed to the entrance of North and fell upon the young woman in between the gates, her head bowed forward respectfully toward them. As she rose, Eva saw a slight resemblance in her features to those of Layla. Her mind immediately recalled the previous night's encounter with the strange lookalike, and she wondered if she should tell the group.



Genesis found Layla in the main cavern, sitting off to the side by herself. He produced a small vial of clear fluid from his pocket and held it as he approached the woman. She appeared calmer than before, but the stiff way she moved conveyed a certain discomfort she felt. The robot sat down beside her, "Hello, Layla. Have you gotten your glasses repaired?" He inquired personably.
She acknowledged him with a sharp nod, "No. I'll need to craft a new pair from scratch, or commission one from the vision specialist in Northern."
"Actually... I might just have a better alternative," Genesis lifted the small glass bottle for her to see, "I mixed up a batch of correctional solution a few minutes ago in Gerald's lab. Raowan needed lenses, too, but the frames bothered him, so he had the chemists develop this stuff years ago. It forms a permanent contact lens on the eye's surface, and melds with the tissue for a natural feel. Would you like to try it? You could apply it yourself —just one drop per eye—, or I could do it for you."
Layla hesitated at first, but finally gave an agreeable nod, "Sure. I trust you."
Genesis used the pipette to withdraw a small amount of the liquid, and carefully released just a single drop onto each of her eyes. Layla blinked a few times, wiping away the excess with her hand. She glanced around the room, "Wow...It's very clear. Thank you."
"And now the world can see you in all of your natural beauty," The android smiled to himself as he capped up the vial and returned it to his pocket, "I'm just glad to be of assistance. This is one of the very few useful things I know how to create. The majority of what I was programmed to make is weaponry and other instruments of death... I don't count those as useful. Not to me, anyway. I hope to someday learn to craft more useful things, like building homes for people, or making tools or furniture or art for them to enjoy." Genesis tilted his head slightly as he looked to the woman, "What is it that you wish for in the future?"
Layla grimaced at his question, "I've...never really thought about it. I honestly doubted that I would even live this long, and I was very near ending myself not that long ago." She ran her forefinger down the scar on her left arm thoughtfully, "But I suppose... all I've ever wanted was to be happy for once in my life, and I don't foresee that as possible with the way this world currently is. I'm so tired all the time, no matter how much I rest. I'm stuck with responsibilities I never wanted in the first place. Every time things start going right, something sweeps through to ruin it all and cause me pain. I envy the life Lukas has made for himself, and I don't understand how it is he's ended up so lucky. All of these people are lucky. Sometimes, I resent them for it..."
"Hatred is never the answer." Genesis leaned forward in his seat to break the pause as he considered how else to respond. He had to be sensitive around Layla, moreso than others. His voice was gentle as he continued, "I want to help you achieve your dream, Layla."
"I don't think that's possible." She shook her head, and began to stand up.
The robot suddenly seized her hand with his own in the most careful manner; it was smooth and slightly warm with the heat emitted from his electric system. She was caught by surprise, but did not attempt to leave. Genesis had a peaceful smile on his face, eyes tinted the faintest shade of blue, "Anything is possible, if you make it possible."



"Come with me," Lara instructed Devon, "The others need to know what's happened beyond the city all these years."
She led the man out through the hall, climbing up the pile of rubble to the surface of the street above. A large circle of mutants stood in the street, arguing amongst themselves in strange utterances and gestures. Lara communicated something silently to the group, then turned to Devon and allowed him to step forward as the mutants quieted, "Show them everything you just remembered. Don't speak it, show it; very few of them speak as I do." She explained, gazing toward the other mutants as she detected Devon's memories starting to replay.

Eva grinned at Scarlet's introduction of her, "Yup. I'm not special yet, unless you count not knowing much at all of the real world. In that case, I'm extra special."

Rey glanced excitedly from each of the newcomers, "It's an incredible honor to meet all of you. Unfortunately, I'm not yet deserving of such impressive titles, but I'll do my best to assist you." She focused on Isabella, "If you don't mind my asking, how long has it been since you were last here, ma'am? Things change so fast, it's hard to keep track of things sometimes."




The young Western scout watched as Devon left with the dark mutant, then stared unblinkingly at the white one. It looked absolutely incapable of causing harm. Perhaps this was a good chance for escape! The foolish teen withdrew a full water bottle from his pack and chucked it at the small white creature as he dashed for the door.

((Yeah, I really don't care if the Western NPCs get badly maimed or killed. xd ))

The scout fell backward immediately, landing flat on his butt on the hard cellar floor. His face was frozen in an expression of sheer terror, with the exception of one of his eyes twitching occasionally. How could such an innocent looking creature become so frightening?! The screech caused him and all of the others to clutch their ears tightly and recoil in pain.

The boy's dreams were a strange series of memories not his own. He was suspended in a greenish fluid within a large cylinder, gazing out at a gargantuan computer system on the wall opposite of him. The screens were constantly moving and changing; some of them showed maps of the country, some of them were scrolling infinitely through a list of financial records, others kept track of military activity. One of the monitors was blinking with a red warning popup, but its contents were obscured by the glass of another cylinder adjacent to his. A man strode into the dark lab just then, heading over to the monitor with the warning. He typed in a few commands using a holographic keyboard, then turned to speak with a couple other people who had just entered. The first man gestured toward the cylinders, his words unintelligible from within the fluid, and the other workers began to lower the containers onto their sides to be transported on an automated cart. His tube started to be moved just as a very loud computerized voice intoned from the ceiling: All bombs to be deployed in 12 hours. Designated personnel, please retreat to the safe zone immediately. The memory became hazy then, until a great deal of time had passed. He was now in a pitch black environment, and violent vibrations reverberated through the fluid in his tank. The vision again faded, until he got a brief glance of some humans crouched over him; he was now out of the cylinder. The room around them was in complete ruin, sunlight spilling in from gaping holes in the ceiling and walls. The people looked both relieved and fearful simultaneously.
Chris was wrenched awake by an ear-splitting screech. He clamped his hands on either side of his head without opening his eyes, focused solely on the awful noise. Then, everything went dead silent. When he opened his eyes to look around, the other Westerners were still gripping their ears. Had he gone deaf? Realization struck him like a ton of bricks as he recalled the pressure in his forehead, his hand shooting up to investigate the foreign object. It was perfectly round, and very smooth. Warm to the touch. And somehow, at the back of his mind, he could see a faint image of his hand covering over the glassy eye's field of vision. His hearing returned as his attention was diverted, and the screech bothered him just as it did the others until the white mutant stopped. Chris stood shakily and leaned against the wall with one of his shoulders, "Where's Devon, or Lara? What time is it?" He asked, alarm raising in his voice, "Oh, crap... It can't be past sundown, can it? If it is...how will we ever catch up to the others? We'll be left behind!"
A loud crack! resounded behind him, followed by a wet dripping noise. Chris turned to see the shreds of a plastic water bottle scattered across the floor along with its contents. Several other items the Westerners had been carrying were also thrown, imploded or broken. Had he caused this? His hand reached for the orb again, and he was surprised to feel that it was now hot to the touch.



Rey nodded along to Isabella's response, and smiled as she watched the family interact. She noticed how Eva stood silently to the side and Rey chuckled to herself: There were many occasions where she had been the awkward one, too. She half-turned toward the entrance to the city, waiting for Scarlet's group to proceed forward ahead of her.

As she felt Devon's memories come to an end, Lara also sensed her sibling's request for something. She sent the white creature an impression of "I'll be there shortly."
The group ahead was quiet as they considered what all they just saw, then burst into lively argumentation without warning. Some of them ran off into different directions, presumably to investigate the land beyond the city. Others appeared confused and slightly shocked. A couple emitted a vibe of aggravation or hostility. Devon backed away slowly, "Did... I do something wrong?"
"No, they just don't know how to cope with this revelation. I am still a bit surprised too, frankly, but I've been more informed by having access to the Originals' memories. They don't have that privilege." Lara explained, "We never really considered the possibility of life beyond our small society, other than the metal men. If anything was out there, we assumed it had to be a threat to us."
"Well, we didn't exactly think anyone lived in the Wastelands, either. So I guess it's a mutual shock." Devon remarked nervously as two of the humanoid creatures appeared to be starting a fight with one another. An orb bearer forced the two apart with telekinesis just as the first punch was thrown.
Lara felt a strong presence enter her mind, one that held a sense of authority. It was coming from another orb-bearer, the individual that was the closest equivalent they had to a leader with the exception of herself. She reached for it with her consciousness, seeing pictures of their kin wandering from the city to the places Devon showed them. The factions. He wanted everyone to go with the purebreds to the factions. She withdrew from the other mind, focusing on the human man, "Despite how chaotic this all may appear right now, they've come to a consensus. We'll let you and your kin go if you take us with you. At least some of us, anyway. I don't think it to be wise if we all came, in case danger is present. Do you agree to this?"
Devon nodded, "Of course. Though you should be warned; the factions might consider you an enemy, based on your appearance. They'll assume you're a product of the government..."
"We'll keep that in mind." Lara responded as she headed for the underground hallway again.



Chris instantly relaxed, his orb cooling down. He frowned — not out of displeasure or anger, but of thought. How were these odd creatures even formed in the first place? What purpose did they serve to the government? And that dream... Did the prewar government have more to do with the current state of destruction than they thought? Was this intended to happen? He found it hard to hear his own thoughts as a flood of other voices and sounds filled his head. The other Westerners, and some of the humanoid mutants. The white creature was dead silent to him, and he wondered if it was because she had the same abilities and could block his presence, or if she was just mute. Somewhere in the fray, he heard Devon's mind approaching, and felt the strange presence of Lara. Chris stumbled away from the wall to gaze down the hall, though made no move to leave. The two entered seconds later.
"What happened?" Chris asked immediately.
"We can leave... If we take them with us." Devon declared, glancing from each of his allies.

((I'll reply for Eva and/or Rey tomorrow. I've gotta go, though. sweatdrop ))

"Only if you want to, Lyra. I will be going simply because of the boy — he's my responsibility, at least until we know what abilities his orb will manifest for him. Then we'll have to decide who is best suited as his mentor; you, Kiros, or myself." Lara responded mentally to the smaller creature, "Why don't you go gather up the others who wish to go along? Make them wait at the Northbound entrance. I'll take the purebreds."



As they walked, Eva stared wide-eyed at all of their surroundings. The buildings were enormous and impressive, the machines were plentiful and well adorned, the people were odd and pale in comparison to their creations. They passed a group of small children, only about 7 years old in appearance, who were playing with a ball while clad in bulky mechanical suits; not quite mecha as their heads were still exposed and they were roughly their normal body size, but some kind of training suits to get them adjusted to machine dynamics. Across the street was a mech carrying a large crate of produce to a storefront, and overhead floated some kind of hovering platform transporting tools to a garage nearby. Eva gasped as she saw someone leap off the rooftop of one of the skyscrapers, only to be further surprised as the man caught himself on the tattered banner of another roof and undid the fastener of the flag's corner, swinging himself onto the second roof the banner was attached to in order to undo the second string.
Rey chuckled at Eva's shock, "Don't worry; Northerners are very sure-footed. We're not particularly strong, which is why we rely on our machines to do the heavy lifting, but we're agile. I've leapt off a 12-story building before using the windowsills and banners to slow my fall until I was able to land in a roll. Granted, my shoulder was broken for months, but I survived." She cringed at the memory, "In case you haven't noticed, we're...different from other factions' people. We're smaller, weaker, more effeminate in the features, and hide our ages well. Rumor has it, we're what humanity would have evolved into if the war had never occurred. The transition was already beginning back then — old hospital reports show increasing rates of children born with grey or white hair as time progressed. We don't know what purpose this mutation serves, but it's made us easily identifiable in a crowd. Layla was born with pure white hair, and they suspected her to be an albino at first, but her eyes still had pigment."
Rey paused as they waited for a series of transport vehicles to drive across the road, then continued as they proceeded walking, "I wasn't born yet at the time of the simulation's creation, but Layla has told me stories of how North came to be. For some reason, the government hated the evolved. They refused to give us entry to the simulation, and sometimes even attempted to shoot us on the spot with no explanation. It's like they feared what they were turning into. Those who weren't killed in the process went into the radiated Wasteland and recovered any machines they could find in the rubble, and began to build up a city from scratch. While everyone else was ill or being uploaded to the virtual world, Northerners were perfectly healthy and managed to reconstruct some semblance of society in a relatively quick timespan. Layla was elected monarch because she was the one who most vehemently resented the government for the segregation, and she showed the most promise as a leader."
Once they got to the palace's gateway, Rey turned to the family, "Lady Scarlet, I have to retrieve some things from my garage at home real quick. I'll be right back."
The Northerner ran off into the housing segment of the city, approaching the outer wall as her small home came into view. She ducked into the workshop, gathering small pieces off the shelves and stuffing them into a duffle bag. She nearly toppled over while grabbing down a heavy black box from the top of her cabinet, which would have been equivalent in weight of a watermelon to any of the Northwesterners. After filling up the sack with a few more gadgets, she slung it over her shoulder and hefted the box with both arms as she wandered back to the palace.
Rey finally entered the monarch's garage, setting down her load with a wheeze. To add insult to injury, one of the palace's automated platforms floated alongside her just then and inquired in its genderless voice, "May I assist you?" She smacked her palm against her forehead while the machine retreated back to its corner. She cleared off a workshop table close to the entrance and unloaded her stuff, which was comprised of some bottled chemicals and putties, a wireless headset, some holographic emitters, a few tools, a computing module, a large magnet, and a metallic sphere. The sphere was by far the heaviest and strangest piece of her load. Rey turned to look at the family as they started speaking very oddly, and wondered to herself what it was all about.