Chapter 8: Enivia

Enivia was governed by a single sun, just like Earth One and Two. It loomed larger than either planet’s central star, yet its rays were surprisingly gentle, granting a clear, terrifying view of its molten surface. Giddeon stood captivated, his breath caught in his throat as solar flares raged across the sky. He could hardly believe it sat eighty million miles away.

“How is it so clear?” Uzari whispered next to him.

“Perhaps it’s something to do with the planet’s atmosphere,” he replied.

Everyone stood atop the descent ship, which had configured into a bell shape after shedding its boosters, entrance shields, and parachutes. The vessel rocked gently, floating on a vast expanse of dark water.

The sky resembled a painting: clouds of lavender and burgundy splashed across a blue-white canvas, while massive birds with wingspans as long as a man’s arm sailed past. In the distance, a sandy beach dissolved into a thick forest, with large, snow-capped mountains towering on the horizon.

Hinelin twisted his helmet off with a hiss of relieved pressure. Pausing, he closed his eyes, then exhaled a long breath. “The air’s sweet,” he murmured.

The crew’s gaze was fixated on him, half-expecting blistering skin, sudden coughing, or any sign of toxic reaction despite being told the air was perfectly clean. When none came, the collective tension broke, and seals hissed across the deck as everyone removed their helmets.

“What, did you guys think the air was poisonous or something?” Johnny teased. “There’s more oxygen here than on both Earths. You should all breathe easier. Literally.”

Giddeon tasted it—crisper, cleaner, and undeniably alien. His eyes roamed over his team.

Pull up their character sheets.

Johnny complied, overlaying the crew’s dossiers across his vision.

Hinelin had been chosen as the team leader by Vibane’s algorithmic system. He was a large man with broad shoulders, giving credence to his high Strength of 20 and his Endurance of 18. From what little Giddeon knew, the man made calculated decisions based on the most logical course of action, backed by an Intelligence score of 16. Overall, he was a remarkably well-rounded individual.

Beside him was Vessa. Her stats ranged from 13 to 15, with Charisma being her only major outlier at 19. One interesting trait listed under her SKILLS caught his eye: Silver Tongue. Giddeon made a mental note to be wary of her words.

Redler sat nearby—a biologist of some renown, though he knew little else about her. Her Strength was completely average at 10, but her Endurance, Speed, and Intelligence all sat at 15.

Fate had also placed the ever-skeptical Kilner in the group. His stats were all 12, with Dexterity and Intelligence peaking at 14. Like Vessa, he carried a rare notation under SKILLS: Tech Mechanic. It was a specialized field of innovators who blended old-school mechanics with new-age engineering. Giddeon had even heard rumors of Tech Mechanics creating unique machines that could function on minimal electricity.

Oomah and Orion were the next two profiles—siblings born two years apart, with Oomah being the firstborn. She was a pleasant-looking woman who kept her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. The interface highlighted Medical Expert under her SKILLS, but aside from an Intelligence score of 14, the rest of her attributes were average.

Orion, unlike his sister, possessed impressive physical attributes across the board, with Strength, Endurance, Dexterity, and Speed all listed as 17. His lowest score was Intelligence at 13. Beneath SKILLS, Weapons Expert and Athlete were displayed. He was the crew’s designated hunter. Along with the moniker came a broad dagger hung from his belt, while a long-barrel firearm rode his back on a nylon sling.

The last member was Eddington, the chubby man who’d thrown a fit during their first briefing. His physical stats hovered around a mediocre 10, with Endurance lagging at 9, and an Intelligence score of only 13. He did, however, carry an odd notation under his SKILLS: Tactical Expertise.

“Why are there only nine of us?” Redler asked, looking around. “I was too nervous about the descent to notice. We’re missing a member.”

“Our tenth is Graks, the volunteer that came down first,” Hinelin answered, pointing at the far-off beach. “We’re to rendezvous with him on shore.”

“Are you sensing what I’m sensing?” Johnny asked.

Every single person who was overly inquisitive or could possibly cause problems is on this team.

“Exactly.”

Giddeon eyed the crew warily. Which means some of them are here to watch us. Did you see any of them in the ship’s logs?

“Every Aiges only had profiles for this mission, nothing else.”

They’re probably kept in a separate database, maybe not even on the ship.

“I’d wager Vibane Corp’s main hub,” Johnny guessed.

I concur. Nothing I can do about it, though. I don’t have the equipment here to hack into a system like that. Reaching into his pocket, he tapped his holo, which vibrated for all of four seconds before powering off. Not that it would work anyway.

“What a grand view,” Eddington murmured, his eyes captivated by the scenery. He pulled a bag of P&P’s from his pocket, popping sugar-coated pieces of candy into his mouth. Giddeon knew them as M&M’s. He had read that on Earth Two, every time one of the CEO’s children landed in legal trouble, the name changed to avoid brand damage. Previously, they were N&N’s, and before that O&O’s. They had a lot of bad children.

“Can I get a few?” Giddeon asked, extending his hand.

“Get your own, guild wrecker!” Eddington snapped, scrunching the bag close to his plump stomach.

Giddeon chuckled, shaking his head at the man’s childishness.

“Why’s he even here?” Eddington glared at Giddeon, gesturing around them. “We’ve a team leader, a biologist, and a medical expert.” He pointed at Hinelin, Redler and Oomah in turn. “Everyone here contributes, except him. You’re all tens, with zero skills!”

Giddeon grinned. “I think they brought me along for my shining personality.”

The crew fell silent, all eyes drawn to them.

“Please, stop bickering,” Hinelin said, his tone indicating it was not a request. “I’m sure there’s a reason he’s here. Perhaps he has a skill not listed.”

“Or Vibane just needed warm bodies to complete the teams,” Kilner added cynically.

Redler stepped close to Giddeon, her gaze piercing and narrow. “What skills do you have?”

“I’m good at finding people,” he replied.

Her eyebrows scrunched together. “Like…who?” She glanced at the others.

“Like you. There you are, right there.” Giddeon chuckled.

The woman did not so much as crack a smile. “I don’t find that funny,” she snapped. “I’m here to do a job. Dead weight is dead weight. Don’t be dead weight.” She turned to walk away, shaking her head.

“You won’t be complaining if you go missing and I’m the only one able to find you,” he called after her.

Redler halted, turning back with a raised eyebrow, her eyes blatantly staring at his stat section. Her thin lips curled upward. “You’re really going to say that? With those numbers?”

“Do we have a bunch of stat racists in our group?” Giddeon shot back, looking from Eddington to Redler. “I’m beginning to feel marginalized here.”

Redler snorted. “Is that even a word?”

“Considering the newness of our situation—and the fact you’re talking about stats—it is now.”

“I’m sure it’s as Mr. Hinelin says,” Uzari intervened, stepping between them. “Everyone has a purpose. Even if it’s just carrying specimens or cooking, it saves time for the rest of us doing more technical things.”

“By ‘technical things,’ you mean those of us with an actual education?” Oomah asked, holding back her laughter.

Giddeon’s lips turned up in a faint smile. “Oh, now you’re starting to hurt my feelings.”

“I agree,” Orion said, moving over to Giddeon and shoving his backpack—a matte-black, square-shaped Vibane backpack—at him. “I could use someone to carry my equipment.”

Giddeon chuckled, his gaze dropping to Orion’s crotch. “Your equipment? While most likely small and compact, I’m going to have to say sorry.” His head shook. “I don’t swing that way, friend.”

“I meant—”

“And frankly, I don’t appreciate the proposition,” Giddeon added, cutting him off. “Harassment like that carries jail time on Earth Two, right?”

Orion’s face flushed red, then hardened, his voice tight. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Two years minimum, if I remember the codes correctly,” Giddeon mused.

Orion stepped forward menacingly, his jaw clenched. “Shut up, you little pipsqueak! I said that wasn’t what I meant!”

Oomah grabbed her brother’s arm from behind. “Stop, Orion, just stop.”

“Punch him,” Eddington encouraged, gesturing wildly. “Look at his smug face—he deserves it.”

“Everyone needs to calm down,” Vessa interjected smoothly, stepping close.

“I think I should teach ten-stat a lesson,” Orion huffed. “No wonder his intelligence is so low.”

“Enough!” Hinelin bellowed.

The air went quiet, leaving Orion seething in front of a smirking Giddeon.

“Mr. Seres, watch your sarcasm. Mr. Orion, we aren’t advocating for bullying or slave labor here. Carry your own gear. We need to set up camp before sundown. Look.” Hinelin gestured toward the horizon. Far to their left, other Aiges were already paddling orange dinghies through the dark waters, heading for the shore.

“Like it or not, we’re all Team Panda now. Other teams are halfway to shore and we’re here arguing over nonsense. Ready the air boat. And remember folks, the water’s caustic, so don’t fall in.”

“Yes, sir,” Giddeon said, his tone respectful despite his eyes dancing with amusement.

Orion grunted in reply. Redler moved back toward the hatch while Eddington turned away, muttering under his breath the whole time.

Uzari shot Giddeon a look, warning him to stop taunting the others with a subtle headshake.

“Who exactly named us Team Panda?” Kilner grumbled in the background.

“Vibane handed out cards,” Redler murmured back. “Luck of the draw, I guess.”

The crew dragged the deflated airboat from the interior onto the ship’s deck. As they unrolled the heavy canvas, Vessa retrieved three mechanical hand pumps and placed them in front of Giddeon, Uzari, and Eddington.

“I think it would go a long way toward showing your group support if you volunteered to help inflate the boat,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Yep, silver tongue,” Johnny confirmed.

Presented as if she were giving us good advice for our own well-being.

“Yeah, I don’t like her.”

Giddeon smiled back at her. “Sure thing,” he said, grabbing a pump. Eddington glared at his own device with a crestfallen expression, looking as if he’d just been handed a death sentence.

Uzari and Giddeon attached the pumps to the valves, working in silence. Eddington grumbled the whole time, barely putting his weight into the strokes. After a while, Giddeon caught Uzari’s eye; she managed a wry smile, sweat dripping down her brow as she forced the pump down. Giddeon deliberately slowed his pace, wincing on cue to mimic the burning arms of a baseline 10 strength.

“Why do we have to do this with our hands?!” Eddington burst out after seven minutes. “This is stupid.”

“You forget, Mr. Eddington,” Hinelin reminded him. “The atmosphere disables all technology. Best you get used to this.”

Giddeon glanced at the airboat—only a quarter inflated—then nodded at Uzari and Eddington. “We should take turns,” he suggested. “Or some of us are going to pass out.”

Hinelin narrowed his eyes at Eddington, whose face had gone pasty-white, sweat dripping onto his suit as his body slumped toward the ground. “Kilner, Orion, Oomah,” Hinelin barked, sparing them a glance. “Switch out.”

Kilner grumbled but shooed Uzari aside, falling into an immediate rhythm pumping away while Oomah quietly took over for Giddeon. Orion stared down at Eddington, who immediately lay flat on his back. With a sneer, the hunter nudged the pudgy man’s flabby side with the toe of his boot, forcing him out of the way.

At Hinelin’s behest, the teams rotated through a relentless cycle every four minutes. After twenty minutes of grueling labor, the airboat was fully inflated. They pushed it into the dark lake and loaded the gear: foldable holding cages, bags of rations, tents, sleeping bags, and other ancient-looking survival tools, all packed into crates. Hinelin secured the ship’s exterior hatch, checking the seal one last time before jumping down onto the orange-colored craft.

Orion stared at the hodgepodge of crates, hands on hips, frowning. “Is this all the equipment there is?”

“Didn’t you pay attention, boy?” Kilner pointed toward several floating pods near the shore. “They sent the heavy cargo down on unmanned supply ships yesterday.”

Orion scowled, looking away.

Paddles were passed out, and the crew began churning the water in earnest. Hinelin switched rowers out every five minutes. The lake was a dark, bluish-purple haze, making visibility almost nonexistent. Whatever had polluted the loch remained a mystery.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Redler,” Hinelin said, noticing her staring intently into its depths. “The water’s so caustic, nothing could possibly live in it.” He looked around the horizon. “At least, that’s what they said in the briefing.”

“Except for—” Johnny began.

Vessa screamed. The sudden shriek shattered the boredom of their monotonous rowing. Her finger pointed wildly into the dark currents. “There! I saw something. It had eyes and…and seashells!”

The lake was glassy, a stark contrast to her frantic voice. The crew stopped rowing, the airboat drifting a few feet before settling into a terrifying stillness. Nothing moved.

“Are you certain you saw something?” Kilner asked, his voice low.

“It was definitely there.” Vessa’s voice trembled, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her paddle tight. “A…fish. Or a person. I could only see eyes and green seaweed. I think it was a face.”

“As Hinelin said, our AIGES lists nothing in these waters,” Uzari spoke up, though her tone betrayed a hint of doubt. “There’s a whole section on the loch.”

“The planet’s still unexplored,” Hinelin warned, his eyes scanning the water warily. “Most of our information comes from satellite video. Be on your guard, but let’s keep moving.”

Slowly, the paddles dipped back into the purple haze, and they began moving again.

A sudden splash caused everyone to jump. “Hey!” Orion exclaimed as his paddle vanished beneath the dark surface.

Uzari’s face drained of color. Giddeon’s heart hammered in his chest.

“Something took my paddle,” Orion hissed, sitting completely still as he peered into the water. “It was strong—maybe even stronger than me. It almost pulled me under.”

“What…is…that?” Kilner asked in barely a whisper, his gaze locked on the boat’s port side.

The entire crew turned. Roughly forty feet away, cyan-blue eyes stared back, hovering just above the waterline amidst a tangle of dark green seaweed.

Eddington and Oomah crawled over Redler and Uzari, scrambling frantically for the safety of the starboard stern.

“Oh boy,” Johnny murmured.

Without warning, a figure exploded out of the lake, sending a cascade of spray against the boat’s side. It was a creature from a forgotten fairy tale. The upper torso belonged to a woman, with her lower half transforming into a slick, scaly tail just below the navel. Glistening seashells covered a plump chest, and ears that were shaped like pure-white conches wiggled in the air. A thin, golden diadem covered in pearls and set with a central sea-green gem rested on the creature’s brow, holding back flowing green hair. The gills on her neck flapped as they sucked in air—a dual system for breathing both above and beneath the waves.

“Someone, kill it!” Eddington screeched, kicking his feet as he tried squeezing his heavy frame deeper into the corner. “Orion, Hinelin, get it!”

Redler reached over, smacking him hard across the face. “Calm down!” she hissed. “You’re rocking the boat.”

Everyone on the left cautiously slid away from the edge. Atop the water, the creature undulated slowly back and forth, watching them with her piercing, cyan eyes. Hinelin reached into a gear box and yanked out a flare gun, cursing something about a rifle under his breath. The others brandished oars and snatched up nearby tools—whatever they could use as a weapon.

Giddeon snorted, glancing down at the Vibane Corp multi-tool in his hand—as if a hand tool could do anything against this creature. She was partially armored with scales, and given how gracefully she floated atop the surface, he doubted she would be an easy target. Besides that, all she had to do was tip the airboat over or tear its hull and they’d be done for.

“No sudden movements,” Hinelin growled low in his throat. “This isn’t in our database.”

“Nope, it’s not,” Johnny agreed. “It’s a geklu, or what that Taka fellow would call a water naga. Here…”

Giddeon’s UI flickered, flashing open a blank page with the word DENIZENARY stamped across the top. As he watched, digital text bled across his vision, filling out the data fields on its own.

Name: Water Naga (Geklu)

Description: Aquatic hybrid humanoid with an upper body resembling a human and the lower body of a serpent. Nagas lair near large bodies of water. While temperaments vary, they generally attack only when provoked. Typical combat tactics include wrapping around prey and dragging them beneath the surface to drown them. Nagas can be crudely communicated with and appreciate shiny objects and good food—including humanoids.

His eyes cut away from the intel after skimming the file, shifting to Uzari. Her face was a veil of cool composure which he knew masked her true terror. Hidden behind her back, she gripped a sharp machete with white-knuckled hands. The creature closely resembled an Asterian Negu: a nightmare encounter even for high-level adventurers. She clearly assumed it was the same breed.

“D-do you t-think it’s h-hostile?” Vessa stuttered, cowering behind Hinelin’s much larger frame.

The creature smiled just then, revealing jagged, overlapping teeth perfectly designed for ripping through flesh.

Orion racked the bolt of his rifle as Hinelin raised his flare gun, cursing again. Kilner lunged toward a container, snatching out a Vibane three-piece axe and snapping its segments into place.

Will it attack?

“Hmmm,” Johnny mused. “Half of them understand rudimentary language and gestures. Those ones are usually peaceful if offered something they like. The other half are psychotic killers whose only joy in life is watching you turn inside out before you die. It’s really a fifty-fifty thing.”

That’s reassuring.

“Wait! Everyone wait!” Giddeon stood up, holding his hands out placatingly. “It hasn’t attacked yet. Let’s try communicating with it.”

“I don’t speak fish,” Hinelin replied, backing away with Vessa shuffling closely behind him. His flare gun remained leveled at the creature. “But be my guest.”

“Hey, Eddington, give me your P&P’s.” Giddeon hissed, keeping his eyes locked on the geklu as he extended an open palm toward the heavy-set man.

Eddington, pale-faced, glanced at Giddeon before his eyes darted back to the creature. Clutching the bag of candy to his chest, he shook his head. “They’re mine,” he rasped.

“Are you kidding me? Give them here, now!” Giddeon wrenched the bag out of his grip.

Mustering all his courage, he cautiously stepped over to the port side. “For you.” He extended the crinkled package over the water.

The creature stared at him, blinking.

“A gift of candy, from the…human race.” Giddeon glanced back at the others, uncertain whether she understood a single word.

What are my chances this’ll work?

“Totally not sure,” Johnny answered, “But can you do me a favor? Lean your left side a bit more toward her when she comes for the candy.”

Why?

“In case she takes a bite out of your head—I’m more likely to stay with your torso. It’ll make recovering my chip easier. I prefer not to be stuck at the bottom of a lake in some geklu’s belly.”

“We intend no harm,” Giddeon continued speaking calmly, ignoring his AI. “I’m sure you’ve never tasted this before—chocolate, with a hard shell and coated in sugar. Might even be better than…than flesh.” He smiled wanly, holding still as the boat suddenly rocked.

“Stop moving, you two,” Hinelin hissed at Eddington and Oomah.

“Stay still, Orion!” Uzari snapped in hushed tones right after.

The geklu cocked her head. Everyone held their breath.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Redler whispered.

“I agree,” Hinelin seconded, whispering like the others. “Look at those teeth. They aren’t for eating plants.”

Slowly, Giddeon set the bag down on the airboat’s edge, then backed away. He held both hands out, indicating the candy-coated offering.

The geklu slithered through the water, sending waves rippling against the hull.

“We’re all gonna die!” Eddington suddenly shrieked, collapsing onto Oomah and Kilner. The airboat lurched wildly, and the P&P’s slipped over the edge, swallowed instantly by the dark loch.

“Great.” Giddeon sighed.

The geklu paused, locking eyes with Giddeon before diving headfirst into the depths. Ten seconds of nail-biting silence stretched out before the surface ripples finally stilled.

“D-do you think it’s…g-gone? For good?” Oomah asked, her voice shaking.

Suddenly, the geklu erupted out of the lake. Screams rang out as the hull rocked violently. Everyone except for Giddeon scrambled toward the starboard side, huddling with weapons raised.

In the creature’s hand was the bag of P&P’s. Smiling garishly, the geklu plucked out one of the rounded chocolates with slender fingers, then plopped it into her mouth. She chomped the candy to bits, her throat emitting an odd clicking sound, accompanied by a low whistling as she pulled out more pieces and tossed them into her maw.

Is this good, or bad?

“It sounds pleased, I would say,” Johnny ventured, “but that’s not a lot of candy. She might consider this an appetizer, and you the main course.”

“Is this a good sign, or…” Kilner trailed off.

The creature finished her second serving of P&P’s, letting out a sharp squeal right after.

Giddeon nodded his head up and down in an exaggerated manner. “Good, right? Eddington,” he whispered, reaching blindly back. “Any more?”

The chubby man clutched his side pocket, shaking his head.

Uzari, who happened to be next to him, forcefully pulled his hand away, then snatched another bag of P&P’s from his pocket. “Here.” She slapped it into Giddeon’s open palm.

“For you,” Giddeon said as he shook the bag with a broad smile. He tossed the offering with a gentle, underhanded throw.

The geklu snatched the package out of the air, then smiled. Upending the bag, she devoured the remaining chocolates in seconds.

“Are there more?” Giddeon called softly over his shoulder.

Eddington shook his head vigorously.

“Hey chubs. If I find out you’re hiding more of that candy, I’ll feed you to that thing myself,” Orion threatened.

“I d-don’t,” Eddington stammered. “I really don’t!”

Dropping the empty package, the geklu cupped both hands, reaching them out toward Giddeon.

Shaking his head, Giddeon mimicked emptying his pockets. “I’ve no more,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

The creature frowned, causing everyone’s grip to tighten on their weapons.

She suddenly smiled and reached up to her crown, plucking out the central sea-green gem. Floating closer to the hull, she blew on the jewel, wiping it off with her hand before presenting it to Giddeon.

“Are you right or left-handed?” Johnny inquired.

I can use both, but I favor my right.

“Use your left hand then,” his AI suggested. “Just in case.”

Tentatively reaching out, Giddeon accepted the gem.

The geklu immediately drifted back, bowing her head before slowly sinking beneath the water, her gaze locked on the crew the entire time.

No one spoke for several heart-pounding moments. When it became clear the creature was truly gone, a collective exhale rushed through the airboat. Tension evaporated as exhausted arms fell limp, and several members slumped to the floor.

“I thought we were goners!” Redler choked out.

“I can’t believe you crawled over me!” Uzari yelled at Eddington.

The heavy-set man remained crouched on his hands and knees, his head barely peeking above the boat’s rim as he intently scanned the lake.

Everyone began chattering at once. Giddeon ignored the frantic buzz, staring down at the jewel in his hand, his eyes reflecting its sea-green aura. Slowly, the luminescence faded, flowing directly into his skin where it vanished. A strange, revitalizing energy rushed from his hand to the rest of his body.

What was that?

“A geklu’s pearl!” Johnny exclaimed. “They’re rarely given as a gift. Apparently, this one prioritized its palate.”

What was the glow?

“Mana, which you absorbed. Your Charisma leveled up by one, but I redirected the point to your general pool instead.”

Giddeon’s internal UI flickered, displaying a single blue number flashing across his vision: TOTAL UNSPENT MANA: 48

“Would you like me to assign it to Charisma anyways?”

No. I still want to figure out how everything works. I’d rather hold onto my points.

“This isn’t cards, you know?”

Just keep them where they are.

“As you wish, partner.”

I didn’t realize you could gain mana other than killing things.

“There are different routes,” Johnny explained. “But even I didn’t know you could gain it from a gift—probably because no one ever gifted me anything valuable.”

Well, color me surprised. The talking AI never received gifts in its made-up past.

“How do I color you surprised?”

It’s a saying. Just, never mind.

“I guess you aren’t useless,” Redler said, her voice drawing him out of his internal dialogue as she grabbed his shoulder. She pulled him down along with her into a sitting position on the deck.

“Sit down—you look like you’re in shock. Are you ok?” Redler asked, her eyes scanning his face.

Uzari scooted next to him, her eyes wide with worry. “Is everything alright, Gid? You were staring off into space.”

“The man did just hand over candy to a creature with daggers for teeth,” Hinelin said, then chuckled. “You’ve got balls if nothing else, that’s for sure.”

“I…I’m ok,” Giddeon replied, realizing he had to be more careful when internalizing with Johnny. “I’m just…I’m surprised it worked is all.”

“Why’d it give you that?” Oomah asked, leaning close to peer at the jewel in his hand.

“It probably thought it was a friendship ritual, or something,” Eddington mumbled, still scanning the lake.

“Who knows?” Giddeon replied, shoving the gem into Uzari’s hand. “Here, you take it. Jewels look better on beautiful women.”

“I—thanks,” Uzari said with a slight blush. Beside her, Oomah visibly frowned, clearly disappointed the gift had not been given to her.

“Anyone else recognize what that was?” Orion asked.

“A naga,” Oomah said quickly. “From River of Souls.”

“I recognized it…mostly,” Kilner replied. “It was a Nogoth, from Into Twilight.”

Eddington finally turned from the water, his eyes calmer now. “It was definitely a naga of some kind, just with slight variances from the lore we’ve all heard or seen.”

“Let’s get rowing, people,” Hinelin ordered. “We’re down one paddle, and there’s a lot to do once we hit shore. You can all chit-chat along the way. Something tells me this won’t be the only surprise we face.”

I have an animated version on Royal Road and a regular version in the middle of the chapter. The MB size is too large for this site.