Sigma Zero (Part 1)
This is the story of a man.
For as long as he could remember, his mind was controlled by a condition.
Depictions and sights of Conflict were like poison to his body. A heart bound by heavy chains, his breath torn and ragged, his body turned rigid like a corpse.
Yet the sight of those that suffered in War, never failed to force that comatose body forward.
The man entered every warzone across the globe,
seeking those who needed his help
seeking that which caused him pain.
“Why is a man like you in this hellhole?” Soldiers that fought beside him might ask.
“Perhaps, to better understand
.” He would answer as he treated their wounds.
Yet being willing to risk everything of himself to save everyone, is it surprising that he ultimately lost his life to War?
And as he lay dying, he recounted his life’s story, from present all the way to past.
He wondered
what he had accomplished throughout his life
why he chased the thing he hated most.
He remembered
those lives that he had saved
those lives that he had lost.
And there,
he came to a conclusion
I could finally answer ‘why’.
It’s said that War brings out the worst, and best, in people but...
∑ | Δ | Δ | ∑
The ward reeked of chlorine.
Its pungent smell blanketed the cloth walls and dividers of the makeshift hospital, overpowering the dozens of other scents that swirled around in the cramped, boiling tent.
Perhaps that was a good thing however- otherwise the only alternative that would fill the nose of the medical staff was one of sweat, tears, and blood.
A rancid concoction by anyone’s standards.
In a sense however, that helped the workers focus on the here and now, not of the past and what-ifs. For even as some beds were silently wheeled out of the tent to make space, another bed, its inhabitant groaning in pain at their wounds, was wheeled in almost immediately to take their place.
”For those who had not departed, still had a chance to be saved.”
The doctors and nurses reasoned with themselves as they continued, methodically and tirelessly, in their task.
So focused in their work and duty to save lives that they barely recognised the whistle of a descending shell, followed by the soft thud of an explosion in the far-off distance.
Or perhaps, ‘desensitised’, was a better word to describe their ignorance of the battlefield that raged barely several kilometres away.
”Waking up every morning to the sound of a shell that got a little too close does that to you.”
The doctors and nurses would say to those new-arrivals, before they were all running to their stations in preparation for the next batch of wounded.
Yet for all the methodical, cacophonic madness as medics scurried to treat the next patient in line, there was one slightly quieter corner of the makeshift ward.
Cordoned off by thick, yellowing sheets of cloth that did little to stem neither the smell nor sound, a doctor and his nurse operated quietly on a patient.
A young man, his sleeping form wrapped in a thin layer of plastic sheet as the remains of torn, bloodied desert-camouflage clothes lay crumpled in a pile nearby. Several large tubes led to and from him, one in particular connected a mask on his face to a large machine nearby. Within a small gap in the sheet, was the visceral sight of his bare ribs heaving up and down, his lungs bubbling as they expanded and shrank beneath them.
“Nurse.” The Doctor said through his facemask as he held a bloodied set of tweezers out in his hands, his eyes unwavering as he watched his patient’s wounds from behind square-rimmed glasses.
“Yes, Doctor.” His male companion said in response as his bony, gloved fingers quickly picked up a stainless-steel bowl and held it forward. The subsequent shy clink of metal however was quickly drowned out by another dull whump from far outside the tent.
Quickly the nurse took a look into the bowl, quickly counting the number of metal shrapnel they had been able to extract from their patient.
“That makes eleven pieces.” He murmured as the Doctor nodded in response, his eyes never leaving his charge as his fingers worked slowly through the soft, bloodied flesh.
The operation continued in silence for several more minutes, punctuated only by the sound of the Doctor’s call to his aide, the stainless-steel bowl growing heavier each time.
Finally-
“Nurse, thread.” The Doctor called out as again he held out his bloodied set of tweezers.
“Yes, Doctor.” The nurse replied as he took the implement away, his free hand deftly unwrapping a package set of needle and thread, before he threaded and passed it forward.
Quietly again the Doctor continued his work, his hands threading the needle in and out of the patient that lay before him.
“Nurse, scissors.” He said after several minutes.
“Yes, Doctor.” Came the reply, the man in one hand deftly wielding a set of stainless-steel scissors to cut the thread, as the other unwrapped another set of needle and thread.
The deftness of his fingers matching that of his assistant, the Doctor quickly tied off the thread that had just been cut, before exchanging the needle and leftover thread he held with the new implement held aloft.
And again, he continued sowing.
Two stitches.
Seven stitches.
Eleven stitches.
Twenty stitches.
Thirty-three stitches.
“That’s the shrapnel and wounds taken care of, nurse.” The Doctor said with a deep breath as he stood up straight, his head leaning back to stretch for a moment before taking several steps back to look at his work. “That’ll have to be enough for now- hopefully infection won’t set in.”
“If God wills it, Doctor.” The nurse replied as he took off his gloves and facemask, revealing the tanned skin of a man used to the desert sun. His eyes gazed at the man that lay before them, his breathing regular as he lay asleep, unaware of what had just occurred over the last hour in the small corner of the makeshift ward. All that remained of the past events, was the bloody bowl of twisted metal that lay beside the bed.
And the series of red, stitched cuts that criss-crossed the young man’s entire chest and stomach.
“I suppose that’s correct.” The Doctor smiled wryly as he too took off his facemask and bloodied gloves before adjusting his glasses. “But we’ve done all we can here. The main hospital will have to take care of any follow-up work properly to ensure that he won’t be joining God’s side soon.”
“Thank you very much for your efforts.” The nurse said, giving a bow to the taller man, before he untied and hung his operating coat and walked to the operating table. “I will bring him out- no doubt his squad would be very grateful to hear that his wounds from the blast are not yet fatal. I am quite certain that they would like to pay you their thanks-”
“Again, tell them that I have no need of such things.” The Doctor interrupted as he took off his operating cap to reveal his head of black hair. “As long as I know that he can make a full recovery, then that is enough thanks for me. Just make sure he doesn’t stay out in the open too long- he still needs to get to the main hospital at the Capital.”
“Of course, Doctor.” The nurse said, giving a bow. “Though, you should see about taking a break before the next patient, Doctor. How many hours have you been working nonstop?”
“Not nearly enough.” The Doctor said with a tired smile as he shook his head, a hand rubbing his forehead as he did so.
“Nonsense!” The Nurse said. “I heard from others that you were already in the Ward back when the first shell hit at 5 this morning, and it’s already past midday! You haven’t had a break, you haven’t even had lunch yet have you? Doing this only poses more risk to the patient than anything else, Doctor!”
“Even so, more keep coming.” The Doctor muttered in reply, his eyes downcast at his bloodstained operating gown. “Regardless of what happens to myself, I can’t just leave them to die like that.”
“That’s not a valid excuse for neglecting your own health, Doctor.” The Nurse answered. “Though, God-Willing, I do hope that this whole thing ends soon too, now that foreign aid is arriving. Still, I’m going to log you for at least an hours break with the timetable and get you to take a break- it is the very least I could hope to do after all you’ve done for my people.”
“...Fine, alright then.” The Doctor said after a short pause and a glance at the still-sleeping man at the Nurse’s hands. “I’ll report to the canteen and come back in a bit.”
Satisfied, the Nurse gave a deep bow of his head, before pushing the operating table out through the heavy cloth dividers.
For several moments, the Doctor’s gaze remained fixed on the heavy sheets as they fell back into place. In that moment of relative peace he slowly took off his operating gown and hug it on a nearby peg on the wall, the cacophony outside of the ward echoing around him.
Slowly, he turned to look at the operating table that had been left behind. That heavy, blood-filled bowl. Those series of bloody tools arrayed before him.
And at the sight, he felt his gut churn.
Clenching his jaw, he felt the nails of his bare fingers dig into the palms of his hands as he willed the contents of his stomach down.
For several more moments he stared at the bloody, messy table and its contents, before turning around and slowly walking out of the operating theatre, into the swelteringly hot and crowded corridor outside.
Yet he ignored all those that passed him by. The chaotic rush of nurses, doctors and patients. The operating beds with men, women and children laying on them, the degree of wounds as varied as the number of people in the Ward.
The sight only made the chaotic swirling in his gut worse, as he felt the thumping of his heartbeat echo louder and louder in his head.
Eventually he reached the entrance of the Ward, slowly opening the heavy fabric of the tent and stepping out into the boiling heat of the midday desert.
And immediately he was hit by the stench of decomposing flesh.
Yet despite that, slowly and without pause the Doctor continued to walk.
Around the outside of the large tent his feet crunched softly on the restless sands, before reaching the back of the dark-green construct.
And at the end of his journey, he felt his stomach give an immense heave as he collapsed to his knees into the sands.
Gagging his mouth he released an inhuman gurgle, his eyes shooting open as he felt the muscles all around in his body stiffen and churn chaotically. Mirroring that, the man could feel his heartbeat quicken, the thumping sound of blood surging through his head growing louder, in lock-step with the pain in his chest as his free hand dug into the fabric of his clothes.
And with each pounding heartbeat he felt, several faces flew by in his mind.
A young soldier who’s been sent to keep the peace.
An elderly pensioner and her lifelong partner.
A college-student turned freedom fighter.
A teenage girl and her boyfriend.
A widow and her two children.
A father-of-four and his wife.
A young boy of barely ten.
“I’m sorry-” He muttered softly through his hands as his body heaved, his eyes clenching themselves shut even as he felt tears slowly trickle down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry... I couldn’t save any of you. I’m sorry... that you’ve had to leave everyone behind. I’m sorry that those who loved you can never see your faces again.”
He whispered those words over and over, the only audience for his confession being the endless sands of the desert.
As well as an array of black bags arranged neatly before him.
“I’m sorry that you all had to die.”
| | |
“Ugh...”The man woke with a grunt, his eyelids shooting opening to see the grain of the wooden desk his body was slumped upon.
“Well, that’s an old memory.” He muttered, slowly willing his hand to release its iron-grip on his chest before sitting upright. “Haven’t had that one in a while. Must be too many late nights building up.”
Slowly he picked up a set of thin, rectangular spectacles sitting on the wooden table, before he stood up and turned to slowly look at his surroundings.
It was an older-style building, with floors made of wooden board. The same dark material extended up half of the walls before being replaced by faux wallpaper for the remainder, obscured as they were by various health notices and posters. A wooden shelf jutted out from the walls above the desk, with several ‘Thank You’ and ‘Get Well’ cards visibly displayed upon them.
Curtains were arrayed on the wall opposite him into several cubicles, a large bed filling each one. The tired orange light of early afternoon filtered its way through the room from the windows that nearly covered one side of the walls, hovering like a halo over several sets of drawers and medicines. Occupying the centre of the room was a long wooden table with two vases of flowers, and several books laid out on it, as several more chairs completed the set.
“How many years has it been since I left the front-lines for this, more-peaceful place I wonder...?” He continued as he dusted off his white doctor’s coat, before looking at a clock on the wall, its mechanical tick echoing through the room.
“Club activities should have already started...” He said as he squinted at the small numbers on its surface, before being distracted by the sound of shuffling outside his little ward. And just as he turned to look at the set of old wooden doors leading into the room, did they slide open.
“Excuse us.” A pair of voices called out as he saw the two young girls standing at the doorway, one’s arm slung across the other’s shoulders.
One of the two wore a set of usual gym uniform, with red bloomers and a red-trimmed, white shirt with ‘2-A’ clearly emblazoned across the front. That white shirt contrasted greatly with her long, dark-brown hair that fell almost all the way to her knees, its colour matching the large eyes set within her pale face.
Her supported companion wore a similar outfit, the same ‘2-A’ letters clearly emblazoned at the front of her shirt. A head of black hair was tied into a single long ponytail by a thin blue ribbon, the colour an exact match to her pair of thin sapphire eyes.
“Ah, Hakuno, Meiling.” He greeted, putting on a calm smile as he stepped forward, opening the curtains to the nearest bed. “What can I do for you? Has something happened?”
“Good afternoon doctor.” One of the girls answered, her long, thigh-length hair waving gently as the two hobbled forward. “Mei twisted her ankle during track earlier, and we thought it’d be best for her to rest at the Infirmary until activities are finished for the day.”
“Sorry for bothering you again, doctor.” Her companion replied, the sheets scrunching softly as she slowly sat down on the bedside.
“No, please, it’s nothing to worry about.” He answered. “I assume you’re in good shape yourself, Hakuno?”
“Yep, everything’s fine here doctor.” She replied.
“Alright then, you can leave Meiling with me.” He replied, smiling at her energy. “Though, before you go I thought I should mention that you shouldn’t strain yourself too much- the Academy’s exams are just four days away after all.”
“Yes I know, thank you doctor.” She replied with a nod, before turning to her classmate on the bed. “I’ll come back to check up on you when the lesson’s over, so just take it easy for a bit.”
“Yeah, thanks for bringing me over, Hakuno.” Her friend replied, nodding with a smile. And seeing her job done, she turned around to leave the nurse’s office, the wooden door sliding comfortably closed behind her.
“Alright then, Meiling.” He said after she left. “If it’s alright with you, may I take a closer look at your ankle? Just to make sure there’s nothing else too serious that’s wrong about it.”
“Of course, doctor.” She replied, giving him a calm smile at his question, before bending down to untie her trainers. Then, slowly, she lifted her legs onto the bedspread, flinching slightly as she stretched her left.
“Thank you.” He nodded, before reaching out and gently touching the offending leg. “Slight swelling...” He said quietly, comparing her two feet.
With gentle movements he slowly twisted the ankle in a series of directions, noting the varying amounts of discomfort his patient was experiencing with each twist.
“Alright, it seems to be just a sprained ankle.” He said as he stood upright. “It’ll be best not to put too much pressure on it for a day or two to let it heal up properly. I’ll get some warm water for you to soak it in.”
‘...Hm.’ He thought to himself as he walked to the sink at the corner of the Infirmary. ‘Why did I mention exams to her? Are club activities supposed to be running so close to them? And... haven’t I seen her face somewhere before...’
“What am I saying?” He whispered softly as he shook his head. “Of course I have. She’s a student at the Academy so of course I’ll have seen her around the place. Though, if I remember she’s just recently transferred, so I might want to take some time in talking with her to see how she’s coping...”
∑ | Δ | Δ | ∑
‘Ah.’
‘Another dream. Another warzone.’
“Peacekeepers.” A man in combat fatigues said as he shook his head, though his eyes never left the steering wheel of the road and the truck he was driving. “Hah, at this rate all we are at the end of the day are ‘Piece-Pickers’.”
“Focus on the road Soldier, every second’s critical for those civvies.” The co-driver said, his pale-green eyes giving his colleague a short glance.
“Aye Sir.”
“Of all places.” A man with jet-black hair and square-rimmed glasses muttered as he stared at the column of tar-black smoke rising from a short distance away. “Why did it have to land in the middle of a refugee camp?”
“Don’t think about it too much Doctor- just be grateful the convoy was passing close by and our platoon was allowed to divert.” The co-driver replied, his face impassive as he stared at the same column of smoke, coming ever closer and closer before what appeared to be their destination came into view.
Just like yesterday, he saw a sandy landscape arrayed before him, the unyielding Sun smothering its inhabitants with its oppressive heat. A mass of tents stood in a dishevelled array before them, though nearby there was a noticeable hole within the ranks, filled instead with rising black smoke.
Unlike before however, the pungent smell of chlorine was gone.
Replaced, instead, by the acrid smell of burning plastic. Not enough, however, was it to mask the putrid mix of decomposing human waste, of freshly-spilt blood, and of charred flesh.
Unlike before however, the hustle and bustle of a medical ward was absent. Equally absent, was the sound of whistling projectiles above them.
Without wasting any time, the Doctor leapt off of his transport vehicle even as others were still pulling alongside behind, his white Doctor’s coat gleaming amidst this blasted landscape as men in combat fatigues followed him suit from the same truck.
The co-driver’s green eyes took a quick glance of the area, before he turned around to the men behind him as they were disembarking.
“Corporal!” He screamed over the chaos as he pointed over the heads of various dishevelled civilians behind him towards a mass of burning tarpaulin. “Get those fires under control and the survivors out of there! Watch for shrapnel and unexploded ordnance- the bomb squad and the next convoy’s still half an hour away!”
“Yes Sarge!” A soldier replied, as he motioned to a small group near him before running towards the blaze.
“Help! Finally!” A hoarse voice called out in a foreign language, as the soldier turned to see an already sizeable crowd jostling nearby, several soldiers already attempting to control and organize them.
“Private!” The man shouted again to another soldier as he pointed to the crowd of men and women. “Find our interpreter and sort those civvies out- triage the ones needing immediate treatment and get them to the trucks for evac back to the hospital. Pick out some tents and have the others who aren’t in immediate need rest there.”
“Aye Sir.” The man nodded in reply as he snapped around to look at the men in combat fatigues gathering behind him before shouting himself, his audience splitting off soon after.
“Doctor.” The Sergeant said as he watched the group disappear for a moment before turning to the man that stood motionless beside him. “...Are you alright?”
“...Terrible.” The soft reply came, the Doctor’s entranced eyes staring out from behind his spectacles, before he drew back in a flinch, a hand pressed to his forehead as his eyes and teeth clenched themselves shut. “Sorry, Sergeant. Yes, I’m fine here.”
“Alright then.” The man nodded slowly in response, before turning around to observe his surroundings one more time. “I need you to help the men triage these patients. Some of the trucks we arrived in should be ready to turn back and head for the base and our field camp, but there’s only so much space.”
“Of course, of course.” The Doctor said as he peered through his fingers, his breathing irregular. “I’ll... see about who needs treatment urgently, and prioritise them. Those who are less-urgent, I’ll... put them on the second convoy, if at all possible.”
“If there isn’t enough space for all the wounded we’ll just send all the trucks back and keep the men here.” The Sergeant said as he noticed the Doctor’s hesitation. “May give us more time to set the place up anyway.”
“...Thank you, Sergeant-” The Doctor replied, just as his sentence was interrupted.
“Doctor!” A man shouted from nearby, the two turning to see a soldier in combat fatigues racing towards them. “We’ve got a medical emergency here!”
“What’s happened?!” He shouted back in reply as the soldier arrived in front of them.
“It’s a girl Doctor-” The soldier began. “She was near the site of the blastzone- a piece of shrapnel’s rammed itself straight into the back of her skull!”
| | |
“Ngh...”The man woke with a grunt, his eyelids slowly opening to see the grain of the wooden desk his body was slumped upon.
“What a terrible memory.” He muttered, sitting up properly as he rubbed his forehead, the high-pitched ringing of the school bell he barely registered. “Still... I wonder why I am starting to remember the past like this.”
Taking several deep breaths the Doctor put on his square-rimmed glasses as he stood up with a stretch. Then, slowly, he craned his neck slightly to look at the shelf above him, the array of cards standing tall and proud atop it.
Slowly he reached out towards them, a hand slowly picking one up and bringing it down towards eye-level as he stared at the hand-drawn picture on its front.
Nobody would doubt that it was the drawing of a child, considering its composition. A cacophony of bright pastel colours, deformed stick figures holding hands with misshapen beaming smiles, one of which wearing what appeared to be a long, white coat.
He couldn’t help but feel his lips turn up slightly at their corners at the sight, before opening it to read the more legible handwriting within:
’Thank you for saving our daughter.’
“...It’s been a long time since then.” The Doctor said with a sigh after a long pause. “I hope they’re doing well now. Though last I heard the warzone’s only increasing in size, at least I believe they’ve migrated far enough not to worry about it.”
He stared at the six words for several more silent minutes, before hearing the calm tannoy system sound out in the background.
“Fifth period should have just finished, right?” He asked as he looked up to the clock, just before he heard the door to the Infirmary slide open.
“Excuse me.”
In surprise, the Doctor turned around to see another student dressed in black standing at the Infirmary’s doors.
In a phrase, she could have been described as a tall, dark beauty. Pale-coloured skin served to contrast with the black uniform she wore, which instead matched the head of black hair she had tied into a single ponytail. The red armband around her left bicep also eerily matched the set of crimson-red eyes set within a face of elegant features.
“Ah, welcome.” The bespectacled man said as he placed the card on his desk before moving to prepare a chair for the central desk. “What can I do for the President of the Student Council?”
“No need for a chair Doctor, I’ll only be here for a short while.” The President replied as she held up a hand, a small smile on her face. “Thanks for your hard work today as always.”
“Well, there’s only so much a Doctor has to do, considering how close the exam period is.” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Though Club Activities are still ongoing, I guess your peers are taking more care of themselves. I hope supervision hasn’t been too troublesome for you?”
“Could be better I suppose, considering all the people I need to keep an eye on.” The President answered as she stepped forward to the curtains of the nearest bed.
She stood there for a moment with a hand on her hips as she stared at the curtain. And just as the Doctor saw the smile she wore turn into a frown, her hand lashed forward, tearing the curtains away to reveal the sleeping form of a male student in the Academy’s black uniform.
“Especially lazy Student Council members who won’t keep up with their monitoring.” She said in a lowered tone, before a high-pitched smack could be heard through the room, instantly echoed by a pained cry.
“Gah!” The student’s body rolled to the side from the impact, both hands clutching the side of his face. “Yeow! Whazzat for Prez?! I was just minding my own business y’know?!”
He was dressed in the traditional black uniform of the Academy, a red armband around his left bicep almost identical to the one worn by the Student Council President. To the passer-by however, the implications of that office contrasted with the messy head of blond hair that he had, as well as the dishevelled state of his uniform. And that was before ignoring the reprimand he was receiving.
“You’re supposed to report back to your shift nearly half an hour ago, Librarian.” She replied, looking down at him as he turned to face her, waving the hand that had struck him as though to shake off the impact. “I know some of those books can be heavy, but we can’t be slacking so close to ‘Exam time’. Besides, your regeneration cycle shouldn’t take that long to heal over any wounds in your head now right?”
“Gah, can’tcha cut me some slack already Prez?” He asked as he flexed his jaw, a hand still rubbing his cheek as he sat up in the bed. “It’s not like anyone comes to the Library anyway now so close to the date.”
‘...Regeneration cycle?’
“Be that as it may, everything needs to be in proper order beforehand.” The President answered as she folded her arms. “I won’t accept anymore complaints- you should be aware of how many others applied for your job, so you’d better do it well before the Coordinator regrets his decision.”
“Tch, fine, fine, yes, alright ma’am.” He replied as he shook his head, a hand to his forehead before he turned to get off the bed and into his shoes.
“Right, off with you now.” The President said as she shooed her colleague away. “I need to check up on someone else in the meantime.”
“Fine, alright.” The Librarian responded, before turning to the Doctor with a wave. “Thanks for letting get some shut-eye anyway Doc. I’ll catch ya later, alright?”
“No problem, Librarian.” The Doctor replied as he gave a wave in goodbye.
‘Not that I remember admitting you here in the first place though...’
With several more inaudible mumbles the Librarian walked out of the Infirmary, the wooden scratch of the doors seeing him off as the Doctor and President stared at it for several more seconds afterwards.
“Well, that takes care of that.” The President said as she moved a lock of her raven-black hair out of the way, before turning to the Doctor. “I understand that you should have one more resident here?”
“Erm...” The Doctor said, turning to his desk to look for the entry-log clipboard. Before he could find it however, he head the shuffling of curtains as a new voice called out.
“Are you looking for me, President?” It said, the President and Doctor turning to the bed at the corner of the room opposite from the Infirmary entrance.
There, a young man sat on the edge of the bed as his hand held the curtains apart. Dressed in the traditional black of the Academy
“Good to see you’re behaving yourself.” The President responded. “Especially considering how quickly you saw the ‘Truth’ of things, I was worried what would have happened if left to your own devices for so long.”
“Well, I will make sure I stay quiet and obey the rules if that’s what you mean, President.” The Student answered. “Though, having said that my Legendary Soul is quite the hot-headed one- she’ll probably look for a fight at any chance she’ll take. Though, I suppose as long as none of the other Students do anything strange she won’t blow her top.”
“Then I suppose the best option for you is to stay put here for most of the day.” She answered, giving the Doctor a short glance before returning to look at the Student. “The other student-candidates shouldn’t show up here most of the time, apart from Council Members and the good Doctor here.”
“I’ll see if there’s a way to keep her content for the time being.” He nodded. “Though I might have to look around for some entertainment.”
“Do that when all the others have gone home for the day.” She waved her hand in response as her disinterested look tilted to the side. “I’ll be having the Librarian stay back after-hours today, you can ask him for something.”
“I’ll make sure to do that.” He replied with a nod. “Is there anything else, President?”
“No, that should be it for today.” The President replied as she flicked her hair, before she turned towards the exit whilst waving a hand in goodbye. “It’ll be a few more days before you can go all-out, so just behave until then.”
Giving the Doctor one final nod, she glided out of the office, the wooden doors sliding shut behind her, the man in white staring at the door with his brow slightly furrowed. Eventually he shook his head and returned to his desk, the sound of sliding curtains behind him ignored completely.
∑ | Δ | Δ | ∑