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The Death Of Bionicle Raptor: Errant Spy


EmperorWhenua

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The following is done under approval and license of Snoopy82 and his BZPower-inspired epic, BZ-Metru. While the characters and some puns are based off of real BZPower members, the details for them are done under creative license and are not to be confused with their actual personalities. No offense to any of them is intended. Thank you. (Also, thanks go to my proofreaders Spink and Arpy.)


The Death Of Bionicle Raptor: Errant Spy



It was a cold evening in BZ-Metru. A nippy evening wind whipped up flurries and conjured the occasional howl at the window of the apartment's owner. Lazok: Apprentice Muse was the sole occupant of the abode, a small studio apartment in a sparsely inhabited corner of northernmost BZ-Metru. The venerable and old Premier Member and former martial artist lived peacefully, meditating while the war between BZ-Metru and BZ-Republic raged just on the other side of the river visible through the frosted glass of his shack-like apartment building.

He sat by a fire, reading a book in the much-appreciated solitude when he heard shuffling noises from outside. His acute ears soon picked up the sound of a door closing and the gentle creaking of the stairboards, as if someone were stalking to his door. Equally slowly, he reached to the nightstand next to him and pulled a pistol from the topmost drawer, preparing to face the intruder.

The steps ended at his door, but to his surprise, no burglar barged in; rather, a polite knock announced the visitor's approach. Still cautious, Lazok got up and quickly walked to the door, gun leveled at whoever might be behind the wooden barrier, waiting to leap in and kill him. He opened the door slowly and stared right in the face of a strange member.

"Oh! Please don't kill me!" the person almost yelped at the sight of the gun. "Please don't! Please!"

Any hint of paranoia momentarily disappeared from Lazok's mind as he saw the battered and bruised member, clearly under the effect of the wounds on his body and the gusts that chilled even Lazok's sheltered spine. "Come on in," he said with a nod. He slipped his gun into a pocket of his thick robe and closed the door as the man nearly fell into the room, collapsing onto the lone couch in a frightened and exhausted fashion.

"What's your name?" Lazok asked as he poured still-hot water over fresh tea leaves.

"Bionicle... Bionicle Raptor," the man said as he recovered from his ordeal, sitting up and gratefully taking the steaming cup of tea from Lazok's hands. "I'm a Premier Outstanding Citizen."

Lazok sat down in his chair opposite Bionicle Raptor, observing the member drink the potion. He patiently refilled the cup when asked and made no motion to press the member, which Lazok observed greatly relieved the stricken and wounded man. But he also made no motion to move his pistol to its appropriate location in the nightstand, as he gradually grew warier of the situation. Why would this man be around at this hour, in this weather, in this condition? It was too disturbing to be relaxed about, but also too early to jump to conclusions. Finally, after several silent moments, he decided the time had come to ask questions.

"What were you doing around at this time?" he asked calmly.

Bionicle Raptor tensed, as if questions about this event disturbed him. "I was on a walk," he said.

Lazok knew it was a lie. His wise and wrinkled face gave a disarmingly warm smile. "I took you in, let you rest, warmed you up, gave you tea, let you bleed on my couch, and now I ask what your purpose is and you respond to my hospitality with untruth?"

Bionicle Raptor knew better. He paused, reflecting on what he should say and do. Lazok was the one to break the silence, however. "A better, easier way to do this is you simply narrate what has happened to you. A story is easier to tell than an answer." Raptor relaxed and agreed, nodding slowly.

~~~~


"It all started nine o'clock on last Saturday," he began. "I was sitting at the bar, drinking butterscotch, watching the regular crowd shuffle in. Nothing particular was happening, and even the guy in a sailor outfit was normal. Gins were ordered, piano music played, and then suddenly a man appeared next to me and sat down. I didn't see him come through the entrance, so I was a little freaked out, especially when I looked at him and noticed he was dressed completely in black. I couldn't see his face thanks to the hat and upturned collar on his trenchcoat.

"You're Bionicle Raptor, aren't you?" he asked in an oddly artificial tone.

"Yes," I replied, a little more nervously than I wanted. "Who are you?"

He ignored my question and just said, "Have I got a deal for you," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"How would you like to be a patriot?"

I didn't know how to reply to that. A patriot? Did this mean being a spy, a soldier, or something else? I didn't have to say anything before he passed me an envelope and instructed me to open it. Inside, I saw money, a BZR ID card and a note with instructions on it.

After I read the note, the man said, "That's your first mission and some tools of the trade. I'll find you when the job's done." If it wasn't for the cigarette smoke making me cough, I would have asked him what he meant, but by the time I recovered from my fit, he was gone, the only sign of his pretense being the fat envelope in my hand and the drained bucket glass on the counter.


The next day, I stressed on the weight of this strange new unsolicited responsibility. After work, I started my walk home, a trip too short to use a car for, and I enjoy walking anyway. I took advantage of the while to think about the mission handed to me, and decided that it was for the greater good. Arriving home, I quickly jumped in my car and sped away towards my mission's objective.

It was easy as making t-shirts. The border crossing was a breeze and the actual mission was even easier. One would think that something so simple was obviously not right, but I continued on in ignorance. When I got home, the man in black was waiting for me in the living room.

"Good job. You just saved countless lives." I noticed his voice was different this time.

"Thanks, I guess," I said as I hung my jacket up.

"You've met the approval of my bosses, and they want to welcome you aboard. You're officially a patriot."

I dumbly beamed, somehow proud of myself.

"But your job's just begun," he continued as he got up, limping slightly to the window and looking out before continuing. "You asked me who I am." It was a statement, not a question, so I said nothing. "You can call me The Operative. My real name and my position is not important."

"Fair enough," I said with a shrug.

"Now, you likely have many more questions. In your oven, you'll find another envelope, just as before, with more directions."

"And answers?"

"That depends on your questions." And with that, the mysterious man left.

I was still unable to see his face or his namebadge, so his identity remained secret to me. I used the BZPower search feature to find information on any members who limped, but it came up empty. I was still dumbfounded but resolved to carry out the next mission, though my doubts were starting to creep up on me when I read the note. The mission wasn't a walk in the park like before. It was a smuggling trip.


A couple nights later, I reluctantly did that mission as well. The target point was an abandoned warehouse in the Reference Center forum. I parked my car at the curb as directed and surveyed the darkness around me. Cold winds whipped about and I tensed as I came out of my car; the chilly wind still penetrated my clothes and caused my teeth to chatter. I quickly ran to the warehouse's sheltered interior and closed the door behind me in a huff. The inside wasn't much warmer, but at least the wind was gone.

Igniting my flashlight, I began to scan ahead of me as I walked towards the east end of the building, where I was told the package waited.

Then I heard thumps of racing footsteps. Turning my light just in time, I saw a pair of men ambush me. I'm not a fighter, never was, but I tried my best to fight them off. I landed a blow to one before he could tackle me, but the second man brought me down with an athletic kick. The wind was knocked out of me and I crashed to the dirty floor, struggling to fight back as they kicked me and screamed at me.

Suddenly, we all were lit up like lightbugs when a car roared at the other end and started to race towards us. The two men started to run away, clearly frightened, and darted through the door I came from and the car screamed in pursuit, crashing through the wall and then fading away. I was too scared to move for a moment, but finally gained the willpower to grab the package and go. After a few moments of searching, I found it and raced back to my car. As I came back out to the bitterly cold exterior through the gaping hole the car left, I saw the two thugs slumped apart from each other, both bleeding from slicing wounds, a nauseating sight for me. Whoever it was in the car was obviously no friend of theirs.

I took the package and drove away as quickly as I could.


That night, I couldn't sleep. That mission had done it to me. I couldn't cope with the bodies, the blood, the fights and the sheer blood pressure I got from the event. The Operative wasn't there that night, so I could only assume he would be back tomorrow, the thought of which only caused me to be more restless. I finally decided being a spy wasn't for me, and that I would get to the bottom of it all before he came back.


I didn't work the next day, instead devoting my time to doing some online investigating. The Internet proved very useful this time around, and I was able to find a lot of information, even on limping members, thanks to some clever keywording. To my surprise, there were only a few BZPower members who limped, and only a couple were prominent by any standard. Suddenly, in the middle of my search, the door opened and The Operative walked in unannounced. I hurriedly shut the computer down before he could see what was on the screen.

"Good job on the mission," he said, again with a new voice. "I find it odd you're not at work."

"I'm still recovering from it, and I feel a little sick," I offered.

"I see," he said flatly. I could tell he wasn't buying it.

"I'm going to ask you questions," I said with a stern tone, more defiant than I thought myself capable of, "and I want answers for them. Real answers, not codenames."

"What makes you think you have the right to ask me questions and demand answers?" the man said, getting angry.

"I almost died in there!" I implored. "I'm a tailor, not a spy! I'm not a smuggler, and by your definitions, not even a patriot! I support my government by living and helping provide to its well being through my work. It's how things are supposed to be! I did what I did as a sacrifice, and because of that, I think I deserve some respect."

"Is that it?" the man asked. "The life of a spy isn't one that offers you questions. It's a do or die life."

"I never asked for this life. I never wanted to be a spy!"

"Then you should have said so," he said with a venomous tone.

A long, narrow dagger appeared from under his coat, and it briefly exposed his namebage just long enough for me to read it. EmperorWhenua wasn't planning on me living to tell anyone, clearly.

I thought fast and flung the nearest vase at EW, ducking to evade the weapon as it sliced the air with swiftness. Grabbing his arm with dexterity that surprised myself, I thought I was winning until he tossed me against the wall behind me and tried to pin me down with his knives. Diving away in time to avoid getting cornered, I kicked his leg and, to my surprise, he screamed in pain, allowing me to run away.

I bolted to the backdoor and slammed it behind me just as EmperorWhenua's dagger stuck into the wall. I just ran as fast as I could. The sun was setting in the east and it was starting to get colder, and I started feeling a sort of deja vu from the night prior as I got in my car and sped away. In my rearview mirror, I could see him in the middle of the street, defiantly yelling curses at me.

All I could think about was how things were starting to come together. EmperorWhenua had set everything up, and as far as I could tell, he was planning on killing me in the end. But why? The only possible answer was that he felt I was a threat. But to who, or what? I had never heard of him, so a grudge was out of the question. He seemed a powerful official figure which pointed at a political reason for assassination. But he was with the BZ-Metru team, my own side! Perhaps he was secretly with the Republic? It would explain the ID card, the missions, and the reason for my death. But perhaps that was just the delusions of my tired and paranoid mind.

After a while, my car ran out of gas and died. I got out and felt disoriented on top of still being scared out of my mind. All I knew was I was somewhere in the northern reaches of BZ-Metru. I wandered for hours, trying to find shelter and just survive 'till morning. I had to get to the bottom of it all.

And that's what brings me to here. I saw your lights were still on, so I came here, hoping for some hospitality, and thank goodness you offered that to me."

~~~~


"An excellent story," Lazok said sagely. "I wish I could help you, but the night inhibits much from happening."

Bionicle Raptor sighed and looked up, suddenly frightened. "Do you think he's still following me? EmperorWhenua?"

"It is entirely possible that he tracked your vehicle and found his way here the same way you did. He seems to have the resources to do so, at any rate. But no, I don't think it possible that he'll find you here, at least this soon. And if he does..." Lazok got up and walked to the bookcase behind him. From one of the recesses at the side, he pulled out a beautiful sword from Lazok's old days as a warrior. "I'll take care of him."

"Thank you," Bionicle Raptor said, grateful. "But why do you show this support for me? Only a little bit ago, you were suspicious of me."

"Ah, a good question!" he said, his eyes sparking. "I'm old and don't have much excitement here. Not that I'm avidly looking for it, either, but, well, I miss it. I used to be a teacher, but those days are long gone. This sword is almost the last artifact from those years. Still, I don't have much to live for now, and I'm too old for the war going on. You can say this is the closest thing to reliving my past that I'll come to, and I'm looking forward to whatever it may bring. It's not that your story convinced me, I'm sorry to say, but I at least share some common interest with you and I have nothing to lose. Does that make sense or is it just my mad mind?" Lazok asked cheerfully.

"Right now, I'm too tired to say, really. I'm just glad I have you on my side."

"You should rest. You deserve it," Lazok said, pulling a blanket from a dresser and tossing it to Bionicle Raptor.

****


Lazok paced back and forth while Bionicle Raptor snoozed away. His gun and sword were ready for use, but even that seemed inefficient against EmperorWhenua, not to mention his skill with either weapon was rusty. Lazok knew EW, and at some point had even referred to him as a friend, but they had parted ways long before and never spoke again. He also knew --or hoped he knew-- what EW was capable of, but even if his former comrade not improved his skills since then, it would still be a one-sided battle.

The soft murmuring of a car caught his ear just in time, and he didn't waste time feigning ignorance. Waking Raptor up, he told him to hide. Raptor's figure vanished just in time before the knocking of the door told them EW was there. Lazok stashed his weapons away and answered the door politely.

"Hello," he said blankly at the man at the door. He immediately knew who it was but played dumb. EW stood there, well groomed and proper with collars down and hat perked up.

"Lazok? What a surprise! It's me, EmperorWhenua, your old buddy!" To Bionicle Raptor underneath the sofa, this was the first time he had heard his foe's true voice; young, charismatic and disarmingly cheerful.

Lazok perked up. "Yes! Hello! Come on in! Would you like some tea?"

"Don't mind if I do," EW said, wiping his feet before entering and sitting on the sofa when gestured to relax. Bionicle Raptor tried not to breathe as the dust from the underside of the sofa fell on his face, almost causing him to sneeze. The tea soon came, and EW took it with vigor. "What have you been up to?"

"Still five-foot-nine," Lazok replied with a grin.

"And still as sharp as a tack, I see."

"Always." Lazok smiled.

"Now, I don't mean to be quick, but I am on a tight schedule. Late hours, you know."

"Oh, you can rest here!" Lazok said quickly, trying to be as cordial and friendly as possible.

"No, I don't need to rest, I just need to get the job done. You haven't seen a member, about six-foot, brown hair, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a bomber jacket, have you?"

"No, I certainly have not," Lazok said, shaking his head. "Why? Is he in trouble?"

"Yeah, he is. See, I'm a cop now, and, well he's a wanted criminal. I got a couple tips that he came out this way."

"I'm afraid I'm of no use to you there."

"No worries. Let me know if he does cross paths with you, though, all right?" EW said, getting up.

"I shall!" Lazok said, showing his friend-turned-fiend out.

When the door closed and the car rumbled away, Bionicle Raptor came out. "That was close!"

Lazok put his finger to his lips. "Yeah. Now get ready. You're taking my car and getting away from here."

"Wha- what?" Raptor said, surprised. "But he just went away!"

"No, he hasn't. He's still around, I know it," he said, gathering his sword and gun. "And I'm going to get rid of him once and for all. If what you said is even half-true, then EW is someone who must be stopped at any cost and you're a trophy that must be protected."

Bionicle Raptor couldn't believe it, but he reluctantly prepared to leave. "Thank you for everything you've done and are doing. Really."

Lazok smiled broadly, the simplest way to show his kindness. "We don't have much time." With that, he began to share his plan.

****


Lazok led the way, noiselessly creeping down the old staircase. Bionicle Raptor followed much less clandestinely, causing the boards to creak under his unpracticed weight and eliciting an angry stare from Lazok's otherwise patient eyes. Once they made it to the bottom, they opened the door slightly, allowing them to see that the wind had died down and the night was still save for the lap of the river's waters.

"Alright. You have the keys," Lazok whispered. "Ten seconds after I go out... starting now!"

Lazok stepped out into the cold night air, sword held high in hand, prepared to deal a blow in any direction. He glanced side to side, then vanished from Bionicle Raptor's sight. When Bionicle Raptor counted to ten, he, too, jumped out and raced to the old yellow roadster Lazok owned, hoping he'd make it.

He covered the distance in mere seconds, opened the door, climbed in and hurriedly put the key in the ignition. The car hadn't been started in a while, and the cold only hindered the engine further. Bionicle Raptor urged the motor on as it whined and sputtered. Finally, the engine started to turn over a little and he looked up in hope. To his dismay, EmperorWhenua was staring at him via the rear view mirror, dagger prepared to be plunged into his neck.

For an instant, there was silence, one side trying to comprehend how things had gone so wrong and the other savoring the moment. Then something neither party predicted happened, and the next thing Raptor saw was Lazok's lithe body leaping up and his shiny sword shattering the rear window of the car into a million pieces, narrowly missing EW's head in the brutal swing.

EW responded by abandoning his stunned target and focusing on Lazok, leaping out of the broken window like an angered black panther, his clothes catching a few shards as he jumped out, daggers whirling in his fingers. "I knew it," he said in satisfaction, knowing how the battle would end. "You were hiding him."

Lazok grimaced, wishing already that his strike hadn't missed. His car had died again, and Raptor repeated his prayers for the old engine to start. "Surprised?" Lazok responded before attacking, his sword swooshing through the air like a bird of prey.

EW ducked and raised his daggers, parrying the sword with a loud clang. The two foes froze and faced each other before resuming the fight.

Lazok's swordsmanship was quite able, but rustic and unpracticed in contrast to EmperorWhenua's fresh and sharp tactics and skills. The two sets of weapons met and clashed with one another, their clings and clangs creating a sort of deadly song. EW's daggers caught the sword and EW swiped the old weapon to the side, preparing to disembowel his foe once and for all, but Lazok was skilled with more than his sword and gave a severe kick to EW's side, causing him to double backward. "Not so hasty," he said, raising his sword to finish his old buddy.

EW wordlessly rose up and threw a dagger. Lazok blocked it and the weapon flew somewhere to the side as he still stepped forward. But Lazok wasn't prepared for EW's feint as he leaped up, seemingly to attack Lazok with an aerial. As EW descended, however, Lazok thought he was closer than he was, and his defensive swipe missed EW entirely as EW crouched to the ground in front of Lazok. The Premier Member realized all too late that he had been bested, and he failed to defend against the lunge that drove a dagger into his heart. His dying words were muffled as he fell in a heap to the icy ground.

Bionicle Raptor frantically pressed the gas and turned the key, still not having much luck, trying not to pay any attention to the battle. Finally, he realized what was wrong: he wasn't using the clutch! Bah! He should have realized this was a manual shift car. Depressing the clutch, he turned the key, and the car started without a hitch. The gears ground as he made the car slowly go in reverse, and for a moment he thought he was going to get away, but that dream was shattered as easily as his side window when EW's flying dagger destroyed it. Glass fragments struck Raptor in the face as he ducked and pushed the pedals as far as they could go, but this was a big mistake and caused the motor to die. He reignited the engine and rekindled his hope, but EW's limping body was already there and he reached in to grab Raptor in a deathgrip. Slowly pressing the pedals while ducking away from the firm fist, he narrowly evaded it. EW's arm, still in the window, was caught and thrown aside, tossing him down as well.

EmperorWhenua picked up a third dagger and tossed it at the moving vehicle, still spinning around him. The blade caught the hood of the car, the powerful shaft penetrating the hide of the car and inflicting damage in the engine cavity. Bionicle Raptor righted the car just in time to see the knife insert itself, and he cried out when he realized he had just aimed the car at the river.

Bionicle Raptor came to realize as well that he was going to die. The car was fading again, maybe due to the cold engine or maybe from the dagger hitting some vital part, but he didn't correct the car's path, deciding a quick death in the river was preferable to a painful death by his enemy. Time seemed to pass slowly as he passed EmperorWhenua, the man's black trench coat fluttering in the wind like some ancient pirate flag, and he saw Lazok's corpse lying face down in the dirt. Bionicle Raptor's final thought as the car careened into the lake was a conclusion that he, like Lazok, was dying like a true patriot. He died with a smile of satisfaction.

EmperorWhenua stared aghast as the car exploded violently upon contact with the water, the mushroom cloud of oily smoke rising with a plume of flame, hauntingly painting the surroundings with orange hues. EW had succeeded in his objectives but caused way too much destruction than he had expected. What he did was simply out of self-preservation, though he regretted having to do it all, especially since he still had some love for Lazok.

As he walked away from the wake of the battlefield, he determined that good had indeed triumphed that night. But the question echoing throughout the entire war effort still remained: which was the good side?

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multivacapprovalseal2.png

 

Heh. A yellow roadster. You guessed right, my dream car does happen to be the Camaro that Bumblebee was based off of. Not quite the yellow roadster you were imagining though, I suppose. =P

 

Anyway, awesome story, exceeded my already-high expectations when you told me yesterday (or is that two days ago, now?). Writing-wise, really no major flaws, only things you can always further improve on, such as changing this:

"Then you should have said so," he said with a venomous tone.

Into something shorter:

"Then you should have said so," he said venomously.

 

Beyond that, I love how you keep with the overall theme and tone similar to Snoops's epic. You also made all three main characters epic in a different sense -- your RPG skills shine through in the battle, giving both combatants equal parts and equal credibility.

 

Anyway, no complaints. Thank you for guest starring me (or the fictional representation of me, anyway) in your short story. I'm honored. =]

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Absolutely stunning, EW- I seriously think this is so much better than any one chapter of the BZMS. You made all of the characters work, your description was detailed yet simple, and your battle was brilliant. I loved the last paragraph-

 

As he walked away from the wake of the battlefield, he determined that good had indeed triumphed that night. But the question echoing throughout the entire war effort still remained: which was the good side?

 

Chilling. You seriously need to write more, man! :D

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Nono, you were just the first person to come to mind as the innocent guy. In all honesty, I was balancing whether to kill you or let you live, and ultimately decided on the former because it seemed more dramatic.

 

And it would make sense that you don't understand the story since it's an offshoot of Snoopy's epic, which is essentially a fictionalized BZP horror story and pretty much everyone dies, and unless you at least know the story one can easily be mistaken about things such as this. My character plays an important role somehow, though not even I know his true goals, thus the entire story here is depicted with ambiguous morality. Rest assured, nothing more than instantaneous whim served as the reason for your addition and fate in the story. =D

 

~EW~

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That was pretty good. You did an amazing job portraying the ambiguous morality. The ending leaves a lot more questions then answers.

 

I also caught your Billy Joel reference. =P

 

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Awesome! Why not post it in the SS forum?

Did and done after I saw your comment. =D

 

Heh. A yellow roadster. You guessed right, my dream car does happen to be the Camaro that Bumblebee was based off of. Not quite the yellow roadster you were imagining though, I suppose. =P

 

Beyond that, I love how you keep with the overall theme and tone similar to Snoops's epic. You also made all three main characters epic in a different sense -- your RPG skills shine through in the battle, giving both combatants equal parts and equal credibility.

 

Anyway, no complaints. Thank you for guest starring me (or the fictional representation of me, anyway) in your short story. I'm honored. =]

I was thinking more like an old Jaguar E-Type S1 or a BMW roadster coupe. I was imagining a spartan, hauntingly plain and Communistic landscape, and the cars, as well as the people temselves, were modeled with a Cold War-era sophistication. That's how BR can get away with wearing a bomber jacket and EW wears a black trenchcoat. I didn't put too much detail into it all, though, since it was deemed too much.

 

Absolutely stunning, EW- I seriously think this is so much better than any one chapter of the BZMS. You made all of the characters work, your description was detailed yet simple, and your battle was brilliant. I loved the last paragraph-

 

As he walked away from the wake of the battlefield, he determined that good had indeed triumphed that night. But the question echoing throughout the entire war effort still remained: which was the good side?

 

Chilling. You seriously need to write more, man! :D

Maybe I will! And yeah, I had to make it all grayscale, cuz not even I know what my character is up to in BZM. XD So I needed to make it enjoyable but also not make one draw conclusions about my character.

 

That was pretty good. You did an amazing job portraying the ambiguous morality. The ending leaves a lot more questions then answers.

 

I also caught your Billy Joel reference. =P

 

 

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YESSS! Someone got it! =D

 

Alrighty.

 

I'm glad I could be a part of something. :P

 

Perhaps I can return... For revenge... :evilgrin:

Maybe, but it'd be hard to do it off of BZM since, well, you kinda went all asplody. :(

 

~EW~

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