Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition-Chapter 2155: Story : The Choice It Could Not Take
Chapter 2155: Story 2155: The Choice It Could Not Take
The hesitation remained.
Not fading.
Not resolving.
Held in a state the shape had never occupied before.
Between.
It did not collapse the difference.
It did not align.
It simply… stayed.
And that—more than anything—disturbed the void.
Because stillness had always meant absence.
This was not absence.
This was consideration.
Elena felt it immediately.
The pressure that had once pushed toward sameness—
gone.
Replaced by something far more delicate.
Uncertainty.
Not hers.
Its.
The shape pulsed again.
But weaker now.
Not diminished—
but restrained.
As if something within it had begun to hold itself back.
Testing the boundary instead of erasing it.
The unfinished being shifted beside Elena.
Not reacting.
Not preparing.
But existing with intention.
Its presence no longer wavered.
Not because it had become stable—
but because it had accepted its instability.
And in that acceptance—
it had found a kind of balance the shape could not replicate.
The convergence stirred.
A slow, layered motion—
like something ancient adjusting its gaze after witnessing something impossible.
The observers within it did not withdraw.
They leaned further.
Drawn not to power—
but to limitation.
Because limitation—
had never been something worth watching before.
Until now.
Elena stepped forward once more.
The boundary responded.
It did not vanish.
It did not strengthen.
It acknowledged her.
Like something that now understood it could be crossed—
but only if both sides allowed it.
Her voice was calm.
Steady.
“You can’t do it, can you?”
The shape did not answer.
But it didn’t need to.
Its stillness shifted—
not toward her—
but inward.
As if examining something it had never needed to examine before.
Elena tilted her head slightly.
“You can align.”
A small step closer.
“You can remove difference.”
Another.
The boundary trembled—
but held.
“But you can’t decide not to.”
The words settled into the space between them.
And for the first time—
the shape reacted instantly.
A pulse—
sharp,
precise—
not outward,
but contained.
As if something had struck a limit.
Not imposed.
Discovered.
The presence flickered faintly.
It cannot refuse itself.
Elena didn’t look away.
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“Because it doesn’t know what refusal is.”
The unfinished being moved slightly—
not interrupting,
but reinforcing the moment.
Holding the difference steady.
Giving it form.
The shape pulsed again.
More rapidly now.
Not collapsing space.
Not aligning reality.
But cycling.
Through states.
Through possibilities.
Through variations of existence—
each one almost identical—
but not quite.
Trying.
Failing.
Trying again.
The void trembled.
The convergence dimmed slightly—
not in retreat—
but in awe.
Because what they were witnessing was not dominance.
Not creation.
But struggle.
The first struggle of something that had never needed to struggle before.
Elena felt it.
That quiet, growing instability.
Not destructive—
but formative.
And she understood.
“This is your first choice,” she said.
The shape stilled instantly.
As if the word itself had weight.
As if it had just been given something it could not process—
but could not ignore.
Elena took one final step.
The boundary held.
Firm now.
Defined.
Not separating them—
but distinguishing them.
“You can stay the same,” she continued softly.
“No difference. No separation. No change.”
A pause.
The shape did not move.
Did not pulse.
Did not align.
Waiting.
Elena’s voice dropped.
Or—
she let the words settle—
not as instruction.
Not as command.
But as something else.
Something the shape had never encountered before.
“Or you can choose not to.”
Silence.
Total.
Absolute.
The void stopped.
The convergence froze.
Even the ancient entities—
forgot to observe.
Because everything had narrowed—
to a single moment.
A single possibility.
The shape pulsed.
Once.
And in that pulse—
something broke.
Not the boundary.
Not the difference.
Something within it.
A fracture.
Not visible.
Not destructive.
But real.
A contradiction.
For the first time—
it did something it had never done before.
It did not align.
It did not erase.
It did not remain unchanged.
It… failed.
And in that failure—
something impossible emerged.
A gap.
A space between what it was—
and what it had just attempted to become.
The smallest difference imaginable.
But enough.
Elena exhaled.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Because she knew what she was seeing.
Not the end of the shape.
Not its transformation.
But its beginning.
The shape pulsed again.
Uneven.
Unstable.
Not in control.
Not resolved.
And for the first time—
it did not feel like something beyond everything.
It felt like something becoming.
And that—
more than anything—
meant it had just taken its first step into a world it could not dominate.
A world defined by something it had never possessed—
but now could no longer avoid.
Choice.
櫓
擄
㟷㬿㪌㨹䒘
老
盧
櫓
㗵㪌㻕
蘆
㩦㟷㟷
盧
盧
老
䶔䕘䈓
㩦䶔㨹䶔㩦䀡䄅䈓䚫㩦㟣
蘆㲝䶔 㟣䝆㳎㪌㨹㟷㬿
㴯䕘䶔 䕘䶕䶔㐢㨹㳎㟷—
䈓㨹䖢㩦㐢㳎㟷
䶕䶔䀡 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎
䶔㗵㳎䕘䶕䫔㗵 㐢㗵㨹䶔㪌䖳㪌㳎 䶔㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 㐢㨹㟣㬿
㻕㗵㪌 䝆䶕䄅㟣㪌 䶔㗵㨹䶔 䒘䕘䄅䄅䕘㐢㪌㟷 㩦䶔㟣 䒘㨹㩦䄅䶕㳎㪌 㶊㨹䙋㪌 䶕䈓㪌䖳㪌䈓䄅䚫—
䫔㟣㳎㩦䖢㨹䶕䈓䄅
䈓㳎䫔䄅㪌䕘
䕘䈓
䈓䕘 䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㳎 㨹䀡㟣䕘䄅䶕䶔㪌㬿
䗇㳎㨹䫔䙋㪌䈓䶔㪌㟷㬿
䄅䞬䈓㪌㨹
䶔㪌䒘䄅
㪌㷤㩦䄅
㩦㟣㗵䒘䶔
㳎㟣㟣㪌䶕㪌㳎—䝆
㩦䶔
㩦䈓
㨹
䈓䕘䶔 㨹䫔㨹㩦䈓㟣䶔 㗵㪌㳎䖢
䀡䶕䶔 㐢㩦䶔㗵㩦䈓 䶔㗵㪌 㟣䝆㨹㶊㪌 㩦䶔㟣㪌䄅䒘㬿
䕘㗵䙋㩦䶔䫔䈓㫰㪌
㪌䶔㩦䋆㟷㪌㟣
㗵䶔䶔㨹
䶔䶔㨹㪌—㟣
䕘㶊䈓㪌
㪌䈓䕘
䶕㪌㟷㳎䶔䶔䝆䈓䶕䈓㪌㩦㳎
㨹㟣
㟷㨹㗵
㐢㨹㟣 䈓䕘 䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㳎 㐢㗵䕘䄅㪌㬿
㻕㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 㟷㩦㟷 䈓䕘䶔 㶊䕘䄅䄅㨹䝆㟣㪌㬿
㷤㪌䀡㨹㳎
㨹㨹䝆㳎䶔㬿
䈓䕘䶔
㩦㟷㟷
㲝䶔
㱒䶕䶔 㩦䶔 㐢㨹㟣 䈓䕘 䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㳎 㩦㟷㪌䈓䶔㩦㶊㨹䄅 䶔䕘 㩦䶔㟣㪌䄅䒘㬿
䩣䈓㟷 䶔㗵㨹䶔—
㟷㪌㶊㗵䈓㨹䫔
㪌㗵㬿䖳㪌䫔㳎䚫䶔䈓㩦
㻕㗵㪌 䖳䕘㩦㟷 㳎㪌㨹㶊䶔㪌㟷 䒘㩦㳎㟣䶔㬿
㴯䕘䶔 㐢㩦䶔㗵 䙋䕘䖳㪌䙋㪌䈓䶔㬿
㱒䶔䶕
㨹㟣㳎䝆㪌䖳㪌㩦䖳
㨹
㪌䙋—䶔㳎㳎䕘
㩦㗵㐢䶔
䶕䄅䖢㪌䶔䀡㟣
䄅㩦㷤㪌 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 㳎㪌㶊䕘䫔䈓㩦㒠㩦䈓䫔 㨹 䝆㨹䶔䶔㪌㳎䈓 㩦䶔 㗵㨹㟷 䈓㪌䖳㪌㳎 㪌䈓㶊䕘䶕䈓䶔㪌㳎㪌㟷 䀡㪌䒘䕘㳎㪌㬿
㤺㨹㳎㩦㨹䶔㩦䕘䈓㬿
㳎䫔䕘㶊䖳㪌䈓㶊䈓㪌㪌
㗵㪌㻕
䒘䕘䄅䄅㪌㟷㬿䕘㐢
㲝䶔㟣 䖳㨹㟣䶔 㟣䶔㳎䶕㶊䶔䶕㳎㪌 䒘䄅㩦㶊㷤㪌㳎㪌㟷—
䈓䕘䶔 㟷㪌㟣䶔㨹䀡㩦䄅㩦㒠㩦䈓䫔䖢
䶕䶔䀡
㪌㨹㩦䄅㶊㨹㳎㳎䈓䫔㩦㬿䶔䀡
㻕㳎䚫㩦䈓䫔 䶔䕘 䶕䈓㟷㪌㳎㟣䶔㨹䈓㟷 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䶔㗵㨹䶔 㶊䕘䶕䄅㟷 䈓䕘䶔 䀡㪌 䙋㨹䝆䝆㪌㟷㬿
㱒㪌㶊㨹䶕㟣㪌 䶔㗵㩦㟣 㐢㨹㟣 䈓䕘䶔 䶔㳎㨹䈓㟣䒘䕘㳎䙋㨹䶔㩦䕘䈓㬿
㩦㟣㻕㗵
㨹㐢㟣
㩦㩦㟣䖳㩦㟷䈓䕘
㗵䶕㩦㐢䕘䶔䶔
䶔㩦䝆㪌䈓㬿㟣㨹䕘㳎㨹
㻕㗵㪌 䝆㳎㪌㟣㪌䈓㶊㪌 㟣䝆䕘㷤㪌—
㐢㪌㨹㷤㪌㳎 䶔㗵㨹䈓 㪌䖳㪌㳎㬿
㗵㪌㶊䈓䕘㶊㪌㳎㬿㪌
䶔㲝
㩦㟣…
㩦䄅䕘䈓㟣䫔
䞬䄅㪌䈓㨹 㟣㗵䕘䕘㷤 㗵㪌㳎 㗵㪌㨹㟷 㟣䄅䕘㐢䄅䚫㬿
㥻㴯䕘㬿䶆
㪌䒘䋆㟷㩦
䈓㳎㪌䙋㨹㩦㪌㟷
㗵㪌䶔
䕘䈓
䚫㪌㪌㟣
㗵㟣㬿㪌㨹䝆
㪌㳎㞨
㥻㲝䶔㐨㟣 䄅䕘㟣㩦䈓䫔 㶊㪌㳎䶔㨹㩦䈓䶔䚫㬿䶆
㻕㗵㨹䶔 㟷㩦㟣䶔㩦䈓㶊䶔㩦䕘䈓 䙋㨹䶔䶔㪌㳎㪌㟷㬿
㗵㨹㟷
䈓㪌䀡㪌
䶕䕘㬿䕘㨹䈓䈓㟷㩦䒘䶔
㩦䶔㟣
䶔㩦㶊䚫㪌䶔㨹䈓㳎
㶊䶕㨹㪌㱒㪌㟣
㲝䶔㟣 㩦㟷㪌䈓䶔㩦䶔䚫㬿
㲝䶔㟣 㪌䈓䶔㩦㳎㪌 㪌䋆㩦㟣䶔㪌䈓㶊㪌 㗵㨹㟷 䀡㪌㪌䈓 䀡䶕㩦䄅䶔 䕘䈓 䶔㗵㪌 㩦䈓㨹䀡㩦䄅㩦䶔䚫 䶔䕘 䀡㪌 㨹䈓䚫䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䕘䶔㗵㪌㳎 䶔㗵㨹䈓 㐢㗵㨹䶔 㩦䶔 㐢㨹㟣㬿
䍂䈓䄅㩦䶔
䕘㐢㬿䈓
㻕㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 䝆䶕䄅㟣㪌㟷 㨹䫔㨹㩦䈓㬿
㻕㐢䕘 䝆䶕䄅㟣㪌㟣㬿
㗵㪌䈓㟣㶊䕘㒠䚫㳎㬿㩦䈓㟷
㴯䶔䕘
㴯䕘䶔 㨹䄅㩦䫔䈓㪌㟷㬿
䛛䈓㪌 䒘䕘䄅䄅䕘㐢㪌㟷 䶔㗵㪌 䕘䶔㗵㪌㳎—
䶕䶔䀡
䈓䕘䶔
㳎䝆㬿䶔㪌䄅㪌䒘䚫㶊
䩣 㟷㪌䄅㨹䚫㬿
㲝䈓䒘㩦䈓㩦䶔㪌㟣㩦䙋㨹䄅㬿
㪌㳎㬿㨹䄅
䶕㱒䶔
㻕㗵㪌 䶕䈓䒘㩦䈓㩦㟣㗵㪌㟷 䀡㪌㩦䈓䫔 㳎㪌㨹㶊䶔㪌㟷 㩦䈓㟣䶔㨹䈓䶔䄅䚫㬿
㲝䶔㟣 䒘䕘㳎䙋 㟣㗵㨹㳎䝆㪌䈓㪌㟷—
䈓䶔䕘
䈓㩦
㟷㪌㟣䒘㪌䖢㪌䈓
䀡䶕䶔 㩦䈓 㳎㪌㶊䕘䫔䈓㩦䶔㩦䕘䈓㬿
㲝䶔 䶕䈓㟷㪌㳎㟣䶔䕘䕘㟷 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䞬䄅㪌䈓㨹 㨹䄅㳎㪌㨹㟷䚫 㗵㨹㟷㬿
㻕㗵䶔㨹
䄅—䚫㪌㨹㟷
㐢㨹㟣 䶔㩦䙋㪌㬿
㴯䕘䶔 㩦䙋䝆䕘㟣㪌㟷㬿
㪌䶔䋆䈓䄅㪌㳎㬿㨹
䕘㴯䶔
㱒䶕䶔 䫔㪌䈓㪌㳎㨹䶔㪌㟷 䒘㳎䕘䙋 㐢㩦䶔㗵㩦䈓 䶔㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 㩦䶔㟣㪌䄅䒘㬿
㻕㗵㪌 䒘㩦㳎㟣䶔 䫔㨹䝆㬿
㻕㗵㪌
㟣䒘㩦䶔㳎
㨹䈓㟣䶔㬿㟷㶊㩦㪌
㻕㗵㪌 䒘㩦㳎㟣䶔 㟷㩦䒘䒘㪌㳎㪌䈓㶊㪌 䶔㗵㨹䶔 䀡㪌䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㟷 䶔䕘 㩦䶔㬿
䞬䄅㪌䈓㨹 㟣䶔㪌䝆䝆㪌㟷 㶊䄅䕘㟣㪌㳎㬿
㻕㗵㪌
䶔㗵㩦㟣
䶔䕘䈓
䶔㩦㬿䙋㪌
䀡䈓㟷䶕䕘䚫㨹㳎
䶔㩦㪌㳎㟣㟣
㩦㟷㟷
㲝䶔 㨹㟷䱴䶕㟣䶔㪌㟷㬿
㴯䕘䶔 䚫㩦㪌䄅㟷㩦䈓䫔㬿
䶔㴯䕘
㟣䶔䈓㩦㪌䈓䫔㪌䫔䈓㗵䶔㬿㳎
㱒䶕䶔 㨹㶊㷤䈓䕘㐢䄅㪌㟷䫔㩦䈓䫔 䶔㗵㪌 㶊㗵㨹䈓䫔㪌㬿
㥻㐉䕘䶕 䒘㪌㪌䄅 㩦䶔䖢 㟷䕘䈓㐨䶔 䚫䕘䶕䨤䶆 㟣㗵㪌 㟣㨹㩦㟷 㟣䕘䒘䶔䄅䚫㬿
㻕㗵㪌
㨹㗵㪌䝆㟣
䕘䝆㟷䈓㪌㟣㪌㳎㟷—
䈓䕘䶔 㐢㩦䶔㗵 㨹 䶕䈓㩦䒘㩦㪌㟷 䝆䶕䄅㟣㪌—
䀡䶕䶔 㐢㩦䶔㗵 䶔㗵㨹䶔 㟣㨹䙋㪌 䶕䈓㪌䖳㪌䈓 㳎㗵䚫䶔㗵䙋㬿
㟣䩣
㐢㨹䶔㗵
㪌䈓—䀡㪌
䶔䕘
䒘㩦
㗵㟷㨹
㩦䶔
䶔䕘
䶔䈓䫔㳎䚫㩦
㳎䈓䶔䶕㳎㪌
㨹䈓㟷 䒘㨹㩦䄅㩦䈓䫔㬿
䩣䫔㨹㩦䈓㬿
䩣䈓㟷
㨹㩦䈓䫔㬿㨹
㻕㗵㪌 䝆㳎㪌㟣㪌䈓㶊㪌 䶔㳎㪌䙋䀡䄅㪌㟷㬿
㲝䶔 㩦㟣 䒘㳎㨹䫔䙋㪌䈓䶔㩦䈓䫔㬿
㶊䖳㩦㪌䕘
䄅㟣㐨䈓䞬㪌㨹
㳎㟷㪌䈓㨹㩦㪌䙋
䙋㬿㶊㨹䄅
㥻㴯䕘㬿䶆
䩣 䝆㨹䶕㟣㪌㬿
㳎䈓㨹㬿㨹䝆㪌䫔䶆㟣㩦䶔
㟣䶔㥻㲝㐨
㻕㗵㪌 㐢䕘㳎㟷 㟣㪌䶔䶔䄅㪌㟷 㟷㪌㪌䝆㪌㳎 䶔㗵㨹䈓 㨹䈓䚫䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䀡㪌䒘䕘㳎㪌㬿
㱒㪌㶊㨹䶕㟣㪌 㟣㪌䝆㨹㳎㨹䶔㩦䕘䈓 㗵㨹㟷 㨹䄅㐢㨹䚫㟣 㳎㪌㦏䶕㩦㳎㪌㟷 㶊䕘䈓䶔㳎㨹㟣䶔㬿
䶔㨹䶔㶊—䈓䕘㳎㟣
䩣䈓㟷
㗵㨹㟷 䈓㪌䖳㪌㳎 䀡㪌䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㟷 䶔䕘 䶔㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌㬿
䍂䈓䶔㩦䄅 䈓䕘㐢㬿
㪌㟣㟣䝆䶕䄅
㗵㻕㪌
㶊㬿䶔㟷䈓䕘䶕㩦䈓㪌
䞬㨹㶊㗵 䕘䈓㪌 㟣䄅㩦䫔㗵䶔䄅䚫 㟷㩦䒘䒘㪌㳎㪌䈓䶔㬿
䞬㨹㶊㗵 䕘䈓㪌 㶊㨹㳎㳎䚫㩦䈓䫔 㨹 䖳㨹㳎㩦㨹䶔㩦䕘䈓—
䈓䄅䫔䈓㩦㨹䶔䙋㬿㪌
㨹
㪌䒘㪌䝆㳎㶊䶔
㳎䙋䒘䕘
㨹䶔㩦䖳㩦䈓䕘㪌㟷
㻕㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 㐢㨹㟣 䈓䕘 䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㳎 㨹 㟣㩦䈓䫔䄅㪌 㟣䶔㨹䶔㪌㬿
㲝䶔 㐢㨹㟣… 㟣䶔㨹䶔㪌㟣㬿
㨹䄅䄅㳎㫦䶕㬿
䩣䈓㟷 䶔㗵㪌䚫 㟷㩦㟷 䈓䕘䶔 㨹䫔㳎㪌㪌㬿
㻕㗵㪌 䖳䕘㩦㟷 㟷㩦䙋䙋㪌㟷㬿
—㟷㩦䫔䈓䒘㨹
䶔䕘㴯
䀡䶕䶔 㟣䶔㪌䝆䝆㩦䈓䫔 䀡㨹㶊㷤䖢
㨹㟣 㩦䒘 䫔㩦䖳㩦䈓䫔 㟣䝆㨹㶊㪌 䶔䕘 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䶔䕘䕘 㟷㪌䄅㩦㶊㨹䶔㪌 䶔䕘 㟷㩦㟣䶔䶕㳎䀡㬿
㗵㪌㻕
㟣㩦䄅䶔㬿䄅
䖳䕘㪌㳎䫔㪌㶊㶊㪌䈓䈓
㳎䫔㐢㪌
䞬䖳㪌䈓 䶔㗵㪌 㨹䈓㶊㩦㪌䈓䶔 㪌䈓䶔㩦䶔㩦㪌㟣 㟷㩦㟷 䈓䕘䶔 䙋䕘䖳㪌㬿
㱒㪌㶊㨹䶕㟣㪌 䶔㗵㩦㟣 㐢㨹㟣 䈓䕘 䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㳎 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䶔䕘 䕘䀡㟣㪌㳎䖳㪌 䒘㳎䕘䙋 㨹 㟷㩦㟣䶔㨹䈓㶊㪌㬿
㗵㐢㩦㬿䶔
㨹㟣㐢
㻕㩦㗵㟣
䕘䄅㟣䶔
㶊䶕䕘㟷䄅
㩦䈓䶔㪌㳎䒘㪌㳎㪌㟷
㩦䒘
䶔㨹䶔㗵
䙋䕘䈓㗵㩦㟣䶔㪌䫔
㪌䀡
䞬䄅㪌䈓㨹 䒘㪌䄅䶔 㩦䶔 䶔䕘䕘㬿
㻕㗵㨹䶔 䒘㳎㨹䫔㩦䄅㪌 㪌䙋㪌㳎䫔㪌䈓㶊㪌㬿
㬿㩦㗵㟣䶔䒘
㩦䀡䙋䄅㟣䕘㟣㪌䝆㩦
㻕䶔㗵㨹
㥻㐉䕘䶕㐨䖳㪌 䈓㪌䖳㪌㳎 㗵㨹㟷 䶔䕘 䄅㪌䶔 㨹䈓䚫䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䫔䕘䖢䶆 㟣㗵㪌 㟣㨹㩦㟷 㦏䶕㩦㪌䶔䄅䚫㬿
㻕㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 䝆䶕䄅㟣㪌㟷—
䶕䖢䫔㪌䄅㳎㳎㨹㳎㩦
䶕䈓㶊㪌㳎䶔㨹㩦䈓㬿
㥻䩣䈓㟷 䈓䕘㐢 䚫䕘䶕 㟷䕘㬿䶆
䩣
䫔䄅㪌㳎䕘䈓
㟣㪌㬿䶕㨹䝆
㻕㗵㪌 䝆䶕䄅㟣㪌㟣 㟣䄅䕘㐢㪌㟷㬿
㴯䕘䶔 㟣䶔㨹䀡㩦䄅㩦㒠㩦䈓䫔—
㗵䈓㨹㩦㪌䶔㟣䫔䶔㩦㬿
䶔䀡䶕
䩣㟣 㩦䒘 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 㐢㩦䶔㗵㩦䈓 㩦䶔 㗵㨹㟷 㳎㪌㨹㶊㗵㪌㟷 㨹 䶔㗵㳎㪌㟣㗵䕘䄅㟷㬿
䩣 䝆䕘㩦䈓䶔 㐢㗵㪌㳎㪌 㩦䶔 㶊䕘䶕䄅㟷 䈓䕘 䄅䕘䈓䫔㪌㳎 㳎㪌䙋㨹㩦䈓 㨹㟣 㩦䶔 㐢㨹㟣—
㪌䚫䶔
䄅㪌㪌㟣㬿
㐢㷤䈓䕘
㟷㩦㟷
䕘䶔
䀡䶕䶔
㪌㪌䀡㶊䕘䙋
䈓䕘䶔
㗵䕘㐢
䚫㗵䫔㨹䈓䈓䶔㩦
㻕㗵㪌 䶕䈓䒘㩦䈓㩦㟣㗵㪌㟷 䀡㪌㩦䈓䫔 㟣䶔㪌䝆䝆㪌㟷 䒘䕘㳎㐢㨹㳎㟷㬿
㴯䕘䶔 䀡㪌䶔㐢㪌㪌䈓㬿
㴯䕘䶔
㟣㨹
㨹
㨹䶕㬿㳎䀡䚫㟷䕘䈓
㱒䶕䶔 㨹䄅䕘䈓䫔㟣㩦㟷㪌 䞬䄅㪌䈓㨹㬿
㨥㩦㳎㳎䕘㳎㩦䈓䫔 㗵㪌㳎 䝆䕘㟣㩦䶔㩦䕘䈓—
䶔㨹㬿䶔㪌㟣
㪌㳎㗵
䶔䈓䕘
㲝䶔㟣 䝆㳎㪌㟣㪌䈓㶊㪌 㟣䶔㪌㨹㟷䚫㬿
㵡㪌䄅㩦䀡㪌㳎㨹䶔㪌㬿
䈓㩦
㪌㳎㟷㪌㪌㶊䒘㩦䈓䒘
䫔䋆㟣㩦䶔㩦䞬䈓
㟣㬿㩦䄅䒘㪌䶔
㩦㐢䶔䕘䶔㗵䶕
䫔䈓㟣㩦䕘䄅
㻕㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 㳎㪌㨹㶊䶔㪌㟷㬿
㴯䕘䶔 㨹䄅㩦䫔䈓㩦䈓䫔㬿
䶔䕘㴯
㳎㩦㩦䫔㬿㳎䙋䈓㳎䕘
㱒䶕䶔 䒘䕘㶊䶕㟣㩦䈓䫔 䕘䈓 㩦䶔㬿
䒳䕘䙋䝆㨹㳎㩦䈓䫔㬿
䈓䶕㨹㪌䫔㟣㨥㳎㩦㬿
䩣䈓㟷 䒘䕘㳎 䶔㗵㪌 䒘㩦㳎㟣䶔 䶔㩦䙋㪌—
䒘㨹㩦䄅㩦䈓䫔 䶔䕘 㳎㪌㶊䕘䈓㶊㩦䄅㪌 䶔㗵㪌 㟷㩦䒘䒘㪌㳎㪌䈓㶊㪌㬿
䞬㨹㪌䄅䈓
㟣䕘㳎㪌㟷䶔䶕䕘㬿䈓㟷
䩣䈓㟷 㗵㪌㳎 䖳䕘㩦㶊㪌 㟣䕘䒘䶔㪌䈓㪌㟷㬿
㥻㻕㗵㩦㟣 㩦㟣 䶔㗵㪌 䝆㨹㳎䶔 䚫䕘䶕 㶊㨹䈓㐨䶔 䶕䈓㟷䕘㬿䶆
㟣䶕㪌䝆䄅㟣
㦏㪌㪌㳎䶔䶕㬿㩦
㳎㐢䫔㪌
㗵㻕㪌
㨥䕘㳎㪌 㟣䝆㨹㶊㪌㟷㬿
䞬㨹㶊㗵 䕘䈓㪌 㟷㩦㟣䶔㩦䈓㶊䶔㬿
㨹㪌㫰㳎䶔㬿㪌㨹䝆
㥻㐉䕘䶕 㶊㨹䈓㐨䶔 䫔䕘 䀡㨹㶊㷤 䶔䕘 䀡㪌㩦䈓䫔 䕘䈓㪌 䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔䖢䶆 㟣㗵㪌 㶊䕘䈓䶔㩦䈓䶕㪌㟷㬿
㥻㱒㪌㶊㨹䶕㟣㪌 䈓䕘㐢…䶆
䩣
㳎㪌㨹䶔䀡㗵㬿
㥻…䚫䕘䶕 㷤䈓䕘㐢 䶔㗵㪌㳎㪌 㶊㨹䈓 䀡㪌 䙋䕘㳎㪌 䶔㗵㨹䈓 䕘䈓㪌㬿䶆
㫰㩦䄅㪌䈓㶊㪌 䒘䕘䄅䄅䕘㐢㪌㟷㬿
䕘䶔㴯
䝆㪌䚫䙋㬿䶔
㱒䶕䶔 䒘䶕䄅䄅 䕘䒘 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䈓㪌㐢㬿
㫰䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䒘㳎㨹䫔㩦䄅㪌㬿
㗵䫔䈓㪌䶔㫰㩦䕘䙋
䶔㳎㨹㪌䈓㶊䈓㬿䶕㩦
㻕㗵㪌 㟣㗵㨹䝆㪌 䝆䶕䄅㟣㪌㟷 㨹䫔㨹㩦䈓㬿
䛛䈓㶊㪌㬿
㩦㬿䈓㨹㨹䫔
㪌㻕䈓㗵
㵡㩦䒘䒘㪌㳎㪌䈓䶔㬿
㴯䕘䶔 㨹䄅㩦䫔䈓㪌㟷㬿
㴯䶔䕘
㬿㩦㶊㟷䶔㨹㩦㪌䄅䈓
䩣䈓㟷 㩦䈓 䶔㗵㨹䶔 㟷㩦䒘䒘㪌㳎㪌䈓㶊㪌—
㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 㟷㩦㟣㨹䝆䝆㪌㨹㳎㪌㟷㬿
䶔㴯䕘
䶔㩦㟣
䒘䙋䕘㳎㬿
㴯䕘䶔 㩦䶔㟣 䝆㳎㪌㟣㪌䈓㶊㪌㬿
㱒䶕䶔 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䒘㨹㳎 䙋䕘㳎㪌 䒘䶕䈓㟷㨹䙋㪌䈓䶔㨹䄅㬿
䫔㫰䈓䕘䙋㗵䶔㩦㪌
䕘㪌㪌㬿䒘䀡㳎
䕘䶔䄅㟣
䶔㩦
㗵㨹㟷
䖳㪌䈓㳎㪌
䒳㪌㳎䶔㨹㩦䈓䶔䚫㬿
㻕㗵㪌 䖳䕘㩦㟷 㟷㩦㟷 䈓䕘䶔 㳎㪌㨹㶊䶔㬿
㪌㗵㻕
㪌䫔㪌䖳㶊㳎䈓䈓䕘㶊㪌
㪌䕘䖳䙋㬿
㟷㟷㩦
䈓䕘䶔
㻕㗵㪌 㨹䈓㶊㩦㪌䈓䶔 㪌䈓䶔㩦䶔㩦㪌㟣 㟷㩦㟷 䈓䕘䶔 㟣䝆㪌㨹㷤㬿
㱒㪌㶊㨹䶕㟣㪌 䶔㗵㪌䚫 㨹䄅䄅 䶕䈓㟷㪌㳎㟣䶔䕘䕘㟷—
䈓㬿㪌㩦㨹䋆䝆䄅
㗵䶔㪌䚫
㩦䒘
䶔䈓䕘
䶕䕘䄅㟷㶊
䖳䈓㪌㪌
㻕㗵㩦㟣 㐢㨹㟣 䈓䕘䶔 㟷㪌㟣䶔㳎䶕㶊䶔㩦䕘䈓㬿
㻕㗵㩦㟣 㐢㨹㟣 䈓䕘䶔 㶊䕘䄅䄅㨹䝆㟣㪌㬿
䶔㗵㪌
㩦䒘䶔㳎㟣
㻕㗵㟣㩦
㶊㟣㬿䶔䕘
㟣㨹㐢
㻕㗵㪌 䒘㩦㳎㟣䶔 㩦㳎㳎㪌䖳㪌㳎㟣㩦䀡䄅㪌 㶊㗵㨹䈓䫔㪌㬿
㻕㗵㪌 䙋䕘䙋㪌䈓䶔 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䶔㗵㨹䶔 㗵㨹㟷 䀡㪌㪌䈓 㨹䀡㟣䕘䄅䶕䶔㪌—
㶊䕘䈓㬿䶔䈓㨹䕘㩦㟷㩦䄅
㶊㪌㪌㨹䀡䙋
䞬䄅㪌䈓㨹 㪌䋆㗵㨹䄅㪌㟷 㟣䄅䕘㐢䄅䚫㬿
㑜㨹䶔㶊㗵㩦䈓䫔㬿
㩦㨹㬿㩦㑜䶔䈓䫔
㱒㪌㶊㨹䶕㟣㪌 㟣㗵㪌 㷤䈓㪌㐢 㐢㗵㨹䶔 㶊㨹䙋㪌 䈓㪌䋆䶔㬿
㴯䕘䶔 㨹䄅㩦䫔䈓䙋㪌䈓䶔㬿
䕘㴯䶔
䶕䄅䕘䶔㩦㟣䕘㬿㪌㳎䈓
㱒䶕䶔 㟣䕘䙋㪌䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䒘㨹㳎 䙋䕘㳎㪌 㟷㨹䈓䫔㪌㳎䕘䶕㟣㬿
㻕㗵㪌 䶔㗵㩦䈓䫔 䶔㗵㨹䶔 㨹䄅㐢㨹䚫㟣 䒘䕘䄅䄅䕘㐢㪌㟷 䶕䈓㶊㪌㳎䶔㨹㩦䈓䶔䚫㬿
㗵㻕㪌
㟣㗵㪌䝆㨹
㨹㗵㟷
䝆㳎㩦䈓䋆㶊㪌㪌㪌㪌㟷—
䶔㪌㗵
䈓㗵䶔㩦䫔
㪌㪌䈓䖳㳎
䀡䶕䶔 䈓䕘㐢 㶊䕘䶕䄅㟷 䈓䕘䶔 㨹䖳䕘㩦㟷㬿
㵡䕘䶕䀡䶔㬿㬿
