CHAPTER 6: Catharsis

"it's days like this that make me hate this city."

Lieutenant James Gordon said, with a heavy sigh. His hand dipped into his pocket, even as he resisted the urge to scrunch up his nose at the smell, fearing to disrespect the dead. Slowly, he treaded outside, allowing the forensics to do their work, his eyes easily glazing over the dead bodies. Once outside, he brought out his cigarette. His wife had tried to get him to stop. Of course, it was days like this, days such as these, which made him go back to the nicotine.

This entire fiasco had started with what everyone assumed would have been an open and shut case. A sexually abusive and neglectful young mother, who molested, maltreated and did all other sickening acts with her son. Sure, it would have been an uphill battle to gain the required evidence necessary to convict her, but there was a guarantee that it could be done.

Only for her to blow all expectations out of the water.

Jim could still picture the exact moment in his mind, as the woman, dressed in a suit instead of the provocative attire of someone of her profession, had stood in the courtroom, possessing neither the air nor characteristics one would expect of a guilty or remorseful pedophile. She had all but strutted into the courtroom, smiling, nonchalantly at the entire proceedings, against the quiet chastisement of her court-appointed lawyer. Then, when it had come to the time, when the judge had listed out her charges and asked how she pleaded, and she opened her mouth, smacking her lips together as she said, unabashedly:

"Guilty."

No one had expected the declaration. Everyone had been waiting for a long and arduous trial, where more of this woman's misdeeds would be brought to light and where she would get the proper justice dispensed. However, the utterance of that one word changed all of that.

Some were happy. Others were disgruntled. The majority however – were curious.

Why wouldn't the woman want to defend herself? Didn't she care about her child at all? Did she know that she could face a life-sentence? As such, investigations began. And then… a secret unearthed itself to life.

Eva Cabrera was a missing person.

The Cabrera family was a small-name mafia group who had supposedly had ideas to create a system of organized crime that actually benefited the society. However, no one would stand for such a ridiculous notion, and they had stepped on the toes of the wrong person: Carmine Falcone. There had been no evidence tying Carmine to the deed, even though, at this point, everyone knew that the Falcone family was responsible for the complete massacre of the entire Cabrera family. The matriarch had been raped before being killed – and, if the evidence had shown anything, it was likely that the Cabrera family's head, Romero Cabrera, had been forced to watch the scene before he was equally killed.

The only person who had been suspiciously absent from the list of corpses, was a young, thirteen year old Eva Cabrera. She had most likely witnessed the rape of her mother and the murder of her father and brother, but either through luck or fortune, she had been overlooked in the massacre – the sole witness in a case which could have permanently thrown Carmine Falcone behind bars.

She was, in essence, a primary witness against Carmine Falcone.

Jim Gordon blew a puff of smoke into the night air. A shadow loomed overhead, and he let out a sigh upon recognizing it on sight.

"Gordon." The voice that came out was gruff, rough, and sounded as though it was being channeled through an amplifier or sound disruptor of one sort or another.

Jim merely let out another sigh. "Two dead bodies. Maryam Finch, child services, and her attacker. We're focusing all our resources on trying to figure out who he is – because, at this point, it's obvious who sent him."

The woman, Eva, she had the right goal. She wanted to avoid a trial, because a trial would mean exposing her past, exposing the fact that she was a witness, and exposing her connection to Falcone. The most infamous boss of Gotham City was known to have nigh-mystical powers in making any and all witnesses permanently 'disappear'.

So, instead, it would make sense for her to take her charges, and be sent to prison instead.

Except, she had kept her last name – either out of pride or out of some sense of respect to her now deceased loved ones, Jim didn't know. Her last name had been on the news, and it didn't take a super genius to make the connection.

She didn't last four days in Blackgate before being found in a pool of blood in her cell –stabbed to death.

Carmine Falcone didn't take any chances.

"And the boy?"

Jim shook his head, taking a longer, deeper puff of smoke.

"Missing." He said, his lips producing the word like it was toxic. "I have men searching within a ten-block radius. He's a one year old kid – a one year old kid who's been through so much, without having a goddamned clue as to why – and now, he has a death warrant on his head."

There was silence, even as he dropped the cigarette onto the floor and stomped on it.

"Sorry – it's just – I have a daughter, you know. Barbara – she's five. I can't imagine anything happening to her, and yet, this kid, he's barely been in this world for year, and he's –"

"We'll find him." The voice was firm, reassuring. There was a resoluteness and steel to it – one which Jim wondered if he imagined.

He nodded, and conveniently avoided mentioning how the would-be hitman who had attacked the young boy the foster-care agent in charge of him had died. It was insane, to even contemplate the idea, that a one-year old child could smash the head of an adult male into paste.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. A foreboding sensation –

This kid – if he survived, just what exactly would someone like him become?

One Week After Eva's Death

"Beginner Animal Manipulation."

I gestured my fingers forward, curving and turning my index and middle fingers, and I watched, as the Small House Rat Lv. 1 fell under my spell. It tried in vain to resist my control, and I snarled, forcing more Mana to rush into the spell, watching as my mana pool dipped by a hundred points, and as the creature went completely still.

I gestured it to rise, which it did, and then to lay low, which it did. In the decrepit apartment complex which I found myself, the rat became my source of amusement. Using the Mini-map to evade both the Gotham Police Force and the Special Forces Unit, along with the Dark Knight himself had proudly earned me a Stealth skill and an Avoid Detection skill. After a week of this, I had finally found myself in a dilapidated building in Chinatown that was scheduled for demolition.

It would have been so much easier, I knew, to have made it through life if I merely possessed people and lived in their skins. Except, the thought of the Greater Body Possession skill gave me cold shivers. Shivers that came from the realization that I would be permanently damaging and suppressing the souls of the people I possessed. Shivers that came from the memory of a laughing, pseudo-insane teenage girl whose eyes had been the most frigid mirror I had ever looked through.

I wasn't ready to face that yet – again – not yet – not now that…

Eva was dead.

I chuckled.

In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. It was almost painfully obvious. I had a foil titled Tragic Origin Story of course, so, it made sense. It made sense, in that almost annoyingly cliché way, that a person who desired great magic or power would often find themselves losing the one thing they cherished the most in order to attain it. Or, inversely, as a result of losing what one cherished, they attained greatness.

Had Bruce Wayne not lost his parents – there would be no Batman.

Had Barry Allen not lost his parents – there would be no Flash.

Tony Stark, Peter Parker, and on and on it went – it was obvious that their lack of parentage in one form or another had something to do with who they eventually became. Whether I would have become a hero or villain didn't matter in the end – heroes were almost always orphans, and villains didn't have their parents in the equation.

I had cared for my mother. Strange as it was, I had grown accustomed to her, I had felt attached to her, like she was the only thing that mattered in this world. Like she was the only thing that was even slightly real in a world of panels and pages.

Looking back, I wondered what would have gone differently if I hadn't answered the door. I was not American in my past life, and I did not understand nor was I familiar with their police customs or procedures. Yet, there was a voice at the back of my mind, telling me, that from whatever country I had originally hailed from, it was generally a bad idea to ignore a police officer at your doorstep. They had the rights to enter your house without a warrant on accounts of "justifiable cause", which could range from them hearing you leave your water running, and thinking that someone was drowning, to merely conjuring that they had heard a 'suspicious noise'.

Would I have been able to hide from him had he barged in anyway? Probably. Probably not. I was still reeling from the words of my evil female clone and from the sensation I had gotten from twisting and molding a soul to my whims.

Alas, it didn't matter.

What mattered? Truly? Really?

"Soul Drain."

The rat thrashed and twisted, letting out bloodcurdling screams, which, for a few brief seconds, drowned out my thoughts. It drowned out the memories of Eva's laughter, the memory of her smile, the memory of her scent, her touch, her feel –

The squealing rat distracted me. There was tranquility – slow, developing tranquility in the sound of its suffering – in the sound of a being other than me suffering – in the sound of a being suffering for me –

And then, it was done. The squeals had ended.

You have defeated – Small House Rat!

You have gained 10 EXP!

With silence, came contemplation, and with contemplation, my thoughts flew back to blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes.

I couldn't mourn. Couldn't grieve. Couldn't wallow in dismay or agony because the Gamer's Mind blocked and suppressed those emotions and sentiments. A protective measure, which kept me from wallowing about my unfortunate circumstances of being sent into this world, was now a hindrance that would prevent me from ever truly attaining closure.

I needed an outlet.

It wasn't hard to input in the term Small House Rat into my minimap's search engine feature – and watching as numerous red dots came to the forefront of my vision.

I smiled.

"Lesser Summon Vines."

I rounded them up. Ten of them, magical vines grasping them and bringing them before me, pinned down, desperately struggling and trying to escape.

"Sou –"

I stopped. No – not the same method.

I turned my gaze upon the first dead rat, the first one that I had killed.

"Lesser Create Undead."

I watched, with both fascination and curious disgust, as the creature I had killed rose, it's neck in a twisted position, it's eyes glowing a haunting deadly red, the color of blood.

Lesser Undead Minion – Rat Lv. 1

I gave it a simple order.

Kill. Slowly.

The rodent was slow, but it was strong. It clamped down on one of the struggling ten enraptured with vines, and chomped off its leg.

The squeals returned.

I settled back, with a satisfied sigh. The ambience of screaming rats, the background music, the requiem, the symphony which drowned out unnecessary thoughts. The concerto that expressed my inner desires in ways that I could not.

Lesser Undead Minion – Rat has leveled up!

It was fascinating, in a Tokyo Ghoul-ish way, to note how the undead rat leveled up from cannibalizing living members of its own species. Intriguing, satisfying – sidetracking.

Yes… sidetracking.

I suppose, the squeals where only an added benefit.

Achievement Unlocked: Dawn of the Dead

Title Unlocked: Sadist

Two Weeks After Eva's Death

I was right about not needing food to survive. Gamer's Body restored my energy and removed all negative [Hunger] debuffs when I went to sleep and woke up the following morning. In the past seven days however, I had completely cleared the entire building of its rat population. There was only one rat left in the building now, and it was the strongest, deadliest, of them all – and it was mine.

Greater Undead Minion – Alpha Rat

Lv. 34

It was the size of a human head now, and pack filled with muscle on its form despite being dead, and despite not necessarily being capable of gaining muscle mass as a dead being. The process of maintaining the Alpha Rat for seven days straight had easily upped the Lesser Create Undead skill into the Intermediate Create Undead one. Tweaking a bit, I also discovered that Beginner Animal Manipulation worked on all animals, even if they were dead. It made for some easy cheating and power-leveling of the skill by using it to command my pet into doing a bunch of feats and tricks.

Moonwalk.

The sight of a moonwalking zombie rodent was surprisingly more therapeutic than I could have ever imagined.

Thriller Dance.

The Worm.

Dab.

A dabbing zombie rat. Stored in my Codex for future use, when I would find a way to convert it into actual video and upload it on the internet for needless fame, or to tick off people who thought dabbing was retarded. The other benefit of course, had been the complete mastering and maxing of the Master Animal Manipulation skill. I suppose if you could command a rat to moonwalk, you could do pretty much anything else with animals.

I rose up from my dusty spot in the building, glancing at my body and almost laughing at the absurdity of it. No sweat – no overwhelming stench from the lack of bathing for almost two weeks – no sign of any real change except the growth of my fingernails.

I wondered if Eva would tell me to cut them –

I stopped.

I'd been occupied for the past one week. Occupied enough to have momentarily forgotten about that name. Part of me wondered, if I should traverse the path of the angry and evil avenger, rushing down to find and kill Falcone for ordering my mother's hit in prison.

Except, it wouldn't really achieve anything, now would it?

Eva was dead. Gone. I was not even going to contemplate the idea of bringing her back with black magic, because I knew, that one way or another, Eva was supposed to be my cost. My major, one-time trade-off for the powers I now possess. Attempting to give the middle finger to magic by bringing her back would be disastrous at best, or, at worst, it would lead to gaining an even worse penalty. Perhaps I brought her back without a soul. Or, I brought back a twisted and warped soul, using such means as the Lazarus Pit.

No. She was dead – and she was staying dead.

What good would killing Falcone do for me now? I couldn't even mourn the woman, so was I supposed to believe that killing her murderer would grant me resolution? Would grant me closure?

No. She was dead, and what I needed to do now was get over it.

By finding the closest cat, pinning it down, and having my zombie rodent slowly devour it alive.

I wondered what a cat's screams sounded like.

I'd find out soon enough.

Four Weeks After Eva's Death

My zombie rat had gained a title.

Greater Undead Minion – Alpha Rat Ultra

Title: Breaker of Chains

Level 66

Apparently, when you gave the middle finger to the food chain and cycle, by feasting on the flesh of numerous cats and kittens – you gained the title 'Breaker of Chains'. It was a title which doubled all stats when he was facing or fighting anything higher on the Food Chain than himself. This stat increase stacked and was peculiar to opponents, meaning that if he was fighting a hawk and a snake at the same time, his stats would be quadrupled.

Considering he was a rat – that pretty much meant that he was OP when fighting almost anything.

When added with the facts that he now gained skills starting from level fifty – I had a zombie rat that could basically use Poison Fang, and Hyper Fang, and could tear off a man's leg with relative ease.

Of course, the problem was that he was still undead. Though my magic was maintaining his form, as a zombie, he had the traditional weaknesses of fire and ice. If I found a way to eliminate both of those weaknesses, I would have a functionally immortal, unbeatable rodent of mass destruction.

This was what finally spurned me on into learning how to use my Alchemy skills.

Alteration was exactly what was written on the tin. It enabled me to alter the physical world around me, as long as I knew the basic constituents of what I was altering, I could change and morph anything into… anything.

It was actually closer to a Harry Potter-style Transfiguration than it was to the FMA alchemy I had expected, because there was no pesky law of equivalent exchange limiting what I could or could not change at a whim.

The very second I realized that I had transfiguration abilities limited only by my imagination –

I cheated.

Simply put, video games generally set progression systems which allowed you to go from novice to master, and when it came to spells or magic, your starting value allowed you to cast tiny spells or small embers, and then you got to the big stuff and firestorms at greater levels. Essentially, Alteration at Lv. 1 was designed to turn and change small stuff with erring progress, things like changing a piece of stone into a chalk and back – all of that. The smaller the object you tried to Alter, the easier and greater the result.

So I went small.

I altered the chemical compounds in the atmosphere to make a geyser of water – converting Nitrogen atoms into Hydrogen and Oxygen in extreme measures. Then, I altered it again to make a spark of lightning by manipulating the Nitrogen atoms. Then, in classic Roy Mustang fashion, I snapped my fingers.

… And immediately learned how idiotic I was for creating a wall of fire inside a building.

Another snap of Alteration, and a geyser of water appeared to quench the flames.

The skill hit level 70 after repeatedly and endlessly creating fire and water from exploiting its bugs – and then, I went for the big stuff.

I picked up a random piece of debris, closed my eyes, and pictured on what I needed.

"Alteration."

754MP Used!

The high MP demand which was easily more than half of my max amount told me that I had succeeded. In my hand, the piece of debris was gone, and instead, there was a cold, smooth, and shiny bar of gold.

I laughed.

There went any plausible reason to ever work for a living again.

And I didn't even need a Philosopher's Stone to do it.

Alteration eventually maxed out, and I realized that there was one limitation of the power. I could transform a rock into a bird, and a bird back into a rock, because I was the one who created the bird in the first place. I could alter my zombie rat's form to make him smooth, stand upright, and wear an elegant suit like he was the TMNT Sensei in a Butler competition. Yet, however, considering how I failed to turn a random pigeon into roast turkey – I realized that I could not Alter already living and existing organic matter, even with a foci.

Additionally, the when I transformed a rock into a bird, it behaved exactly like a rock – motionless, lifeless, and hollow. I had just changed the composition and outward appearance, but I hadn't given it life.

My attempt to do so, however, garnered me the lovely alchemic skill – Animation.

Essentially, I could animate statues and objects to life, and they would gain the attributes of whatever they were. Conversely, I realized that this also worked on non-statues and random objects, as I could 'Animate' them into performing a particular task or carrying out a certain duty.

Generally, it was like programming.

Animate Cup to hover three inches above the floor, animate cup to tilt 30 degrees in the north eastern direction, animate cup to stop tilting after two point eight seconds –

The more specific the instructions, the better the spell worked.

Fascinating as all of it was however, I realized that I had gotten side-tracked in my side-track – as I nearly forgot all about my original goal of making my zombie rat fireproof and ice proof.

I cracked my knuckles, craned my neck, and slowly, but surely, moved my way up the Alchemy skill tree list, with the next item – Enchantment.

Six Months After Eva's Death

Congratulations! It's Your Birthday!

You have aged up!

You are now 2 years old!

I ignored the notification that had popped up in front of me as my eyes opened. Pushing it to the side, I stretched, before continuing my goal of mastering the Enchantment skill. So far, even with the hack I had discovered of using Animation to fake enchanting objects, the Enchantment skill was the trickiest and most difficult thing I had ever attempted to master. There were almost no other hacks I could think of that would be suitable enough for me to use and completely get it.

The problem lay in the insanely numerous methods they were to enchant an object. You could enchant it to burst on fire with certain commands by merging Animation and Alteration, or enchant it with the soul of a creature to give it that creature's characteristics, or you could enchant it by entrenching it in thick, bloody rituals. Then, there were methods of enchantment such as runes, hieroglyphs, ancient writings, Kanji writing, pictograms, and on and on it went – and you had to use at least one of these methods properly.

The closest I had gotten to Enchantment mastery was evident in the object that lay in front of me.

Item – Magical Evolutionary Chess Set

Class: Rare

A Magical chess set which can be played on one's on, as the pieces will move and respond based on each prior move made by the human player. The chess set is not sentient, but however, saves and records every game played on it, calculating and analyzing, and learning from its mistakes. The same tactic or strategy cannot be used against it twice.

With the amount of games I had played on it, my intelligence had gone up by 102 points, and it slightly peeved me when I realized that I could no longer beat my own creation. Ruy Lopez, Scandinavian Defense, Italian Defense, French Defense, Queen's Gambit, King's Gambit – all my best and favorite Chess openings and tactics had been learned by the board, and now, after one thousand, nine hundred and forty eight games in the past six months, I could no longer win.

A cold wind blew into the building, and I shuddered slightly, before waving my hands with a quick spark of Alteration and converting a portion of the wall into a cozy fire place. A snap and the fireplace ignited. My gaze turned out to the window, glossed over as it was, it was clear that winters in Gotham City were not the greatest.

Had I ever seen snow before?

I scrunched up my nose.

No – I hadn't. I couldn't remember ever seeing snow before. Ever playing in it or making a snowball. I didn't know how a snowball felt like, how snow felt like.

But, that didn't really matter to me.

Instead, I needed to focus back on mastering Enchantment. Once I had mastered that particular skill, I would enchant my anthropomorphic zombie rat into a creature that was immune to both fire and ice. At that point – there wouldn't be anything truly capable of putting him down. Bullets? No. Swords? No. Laser beams?

…

So, I also needed to learn how to provide Enchantment against heat vision, lasers and explosives. That would be interesting.

Also, on the side, I realized that it was about time I started working on my Nature Magic skills as well. How far could I push my ability to create vines, grass and leaves? Could I create specific types of grasses and leaves? Could I then, hypothetically speaking, create spices and cannabis from my abillities?

"Lesser Summon Leaves."

Time to find out.

One Year After Eva's Death

Title Unlocked: Recluse

Achievement Unlocked: People Are Overrated

The place in which I stayed was almost unrecognizable.

Whereas it had been nothing but ruins and debris, all of that was gone. The floor was a smooth and beautiful design pattern of tiles which were artistically drawn with each tile possessing a different image, which all together combined into the image of a giant, red, spiraling eye with tomoe.

Comfortable couches were now in an area called the living room. Fluffy and bouncy, with material made from refined animal furs. An unlit furnace was directly in front of this living room. A flat screen television was hung on a half wall to the right of the living room.

To the left side of this room, lay a door to a bathroom. Spacious, tiled in a mix-mash of white and blue with the image of a peculiar water Pokémon attached to the wall tiles of the bathroom. It, like most of the house, was completely spotless.

Adjacent this room, lay a door to another room. A waterbed was center place, the round object possessing the image of a familiar dark-haired, red-cloaked vampire being used as the sheets and covers. It was a rather crude image, considering that the vampire was pictured with glowing eyes and blood-stained fangs. The theme of the room was in alternating shades of black and red, ranging from clouds to symbols and an amalgamation of different kanji.

I sat in the living room, on the chair, with the television switched on, yet, I couldn't focus on it. My fingers scratched repetitively against the couch, the nails tearing through the material and the material re-forming itself immediately after.

The television was switched on – yet, I couldn't hear it. My mind was busy, thinking, recollecting, remembering.

In no time at all, I would have lived on this earth for longer than I had known Eva. Just like that. A person who had felt like the only reason I woke up in the morning, and soon enough, I would have experienced more without them than more with them.

In the past one year, I had thrown myself into distractions. Into sidetracking tasks and activities. I used the justification of self-improvement and testing my powers – but now, in exactly a year, with the aid of shortcuts and innovation, I had mastered nearly every single aspect of Ritual Magic –

Except the actual rituals.

Yet, now that I had nearly nothing left to do, I realized that I would have to go back out into the world again. I would have to leave my comfortable little hoven of solitude and face the outside – and return to this meaningless world of monsters.

And I would have to do it – without a single person beside me.

No.

Maybe – maybe not yet.

There were still other things I could do – I should do, if I wanted to go back into the world of gods and monsters.

Like…

Mastering every single instrument.

A brief usage of Alteration on random objects filled the living room up with a grand piano, a violin, a guitar, a set of drums, a flute, a trumpet, a trombone, and a triangle.

Yes… this would do. It would do for now.

One Year and Six Months After Eva's Death

Congratulations! It's Your Birthday!

You have aged up!

You are now 3 years old!

Easy. So easy. Why had it all been so easy?

People out there in the world devoted years of their lives to total mastery of their selected instruments, and as a Gamer, with just six months of constant practice, of playing, without rest, without sleep, without food, without pause –

Musical Mastery Tree – Maxed!

Piano Mastery (Level Maxed)

Guitar Mastery (Level Maxed)

Violin Mastery (Level Maxed)

Percussion Instrument Mastery (Level Maxed)

Flute Mastery (Level Maxed)

Trumpet Mastery (Level Maxed)

Congratulations! As a result of Mastering the Music Skill Tree and being a practitioner of Soul Magic – you have unlocked a special Magic Skill –

Soul Music (Active) Lv. 1

Music which speaks to the soul. To uplift, bring down, seduce or torment – the choice is yours. This power lets your music speak for you, to let your music sway the hearts of man and beast alike.

Title Unlocked: Musical Prodigy

Achievement Unlocked: Lord of Symphony!

I grit my teeth and tossed my hands into the air.

I didn't want any more useless titles and achievements! I didn't need them! I didn't! I just wanted – I wanted –

I stopped.

What do I want?

I… didn't know.

For the longest time, all I had wanted, was to create a life for myself and Eva. I wanted to make her a better person. I wanted to watch her achieve her dreams. I wanted to see her become something great –

Something beautiful.

She was my everything.

I… loved her.

But – she was dead. Gone. There was no bringing her back. This meant, that my want, my greatest desire, it couldn't come to fruition anymore. It couldn't happen. I had to set a new goal, a new reason to continue, a new reason to wake up every morning. A desire. A want.

No matter how crazy, no matter how twisted, no matter how morally repulsive or ignoble. I needed something – anything.

So… what do I want to do the most?

What beautiful, sick, deranged and twisted fantasy could I indulge myself in for the rest of my life?

My mother had died as a result of my own machinations, I knew. However, I also knew, that the circumstances of the horrible life she had lived had been brought about by the actions of Carmine Falcone, and the failure of the so-called 'hero' to stop him. I knew, that if Carmine Falcone had not existed, the story would be far, far different.

The police was either corrupt or inept, and Batman would never be able to stain his hands to remove a stain from this earth, in the ridiculously bullshit name of moral purity.

Neither would Superman.

Nor Wonder Woman. Nor Green Lantern, The Flash, Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter –

And so – I realized what my purpose was.

Break or eliminate every superhero.

Murder or enslave every supervillain.

End or conquer the world of Masks and Capes.

It was grand. It was over the top. It would almost certainly get me killed or imprisoned.

But it was something I wanted to do.

I wanted to be the man who ended the Dark Knight.

The person who bent the Man of Steel.

The one who dominated an Amazon.

This was my story. This was my goal. This was the world in which I had found myself, and I would not – could not – sit back and watch this farce any longer. No. I had the power to change things. To change the world.

To rule it.

In a world where gods walked the earth as mortal men, and I would become a legend.

And I would do it –

For myself.

ULTIMATE QUEST UNLOCKED!

The World of Masks and Capes