Chapter 5: The Search for the Temple

The first light of dawn crept into the tent, casting a soft golden glow over Sahara and Layla as they lay together on the thin mattress. Sahara stirred first, her body still humming with the lingering warmth of Layla’s touch from the night before. She turned her head slightly, her eyes tracing the curve of Layla’s cheek, the way her dark lashes rested against her skin. For a moment, Sahara allowed herself to simply watch her, to savor the quiet intimacy of the moment. But the weight of their mission pressed on her, a constant reminder that they couldn’t linger.

Gently, Sahara leaned in, her lips brushing against Layla’s in a soft kiss. It was tender but deliberate, a quiet way to wake her without startling her. Layla stirred awake, her body still warm and languid from the night before. The first light of dawn filtered through the thin fabric of the tent, casting a soft golden glow over Sahara’s naked form as she sat up beside her. Layla’s eyes traced the curve of Sahara’s back, the smooth, sun-kissed skin glowing faintly in the morning light. Sahara stretched her arms above her head, her lithe, athletic body arching gracefully as she woke. The movement pulled her muscles taut, the definition of her shoulders and back a testament to years of physical labor and exploration.

Sahara turned slightly, her profile sharp and striking against the morning light. Her C-cup breasts rose and fell with her steady breathing, her nipples slightly erect from the cool morning air. Layla felt a flicker of warmth in her chest as she watched her, the memory of their lovemaking still fresh in her mind.

Sahara glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Layla’s. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, before she turned her attention to the faint sounds of Mo and Elias moving around outside the tent.

“We need to get moving,” Sahara said. She reached for her clothes, the white crop top and cargo pants she had discarded the night before. Layla watched as she dressed, the fabric of the crop top clinging to her breasts, the cargo pants sitting low on her hips.

Layla nodded, her expression shifting from sleepy contentment to focused determination. She sat up, her hand brushing against Sahara’s in a fleeting, reassuring touch. The cool morning air kissed her bare skin as she reached for the olive-green jumpsuit she had worn the day before. Frowning at its impracticality, she tossed it aside and grabbed her more practical outfit—khaki cargo pants and a fitted, beige long-sleeved shirt. She dressed quickly, the lightweight fabric clinging to her toned frame, her movements efficient and deliberate.

As Layla laced up her sturdy boots and tied her dark hair into a loose braid, she glanced at Sahara, who was already dressed and scanning the tent for last-minute items. Layla adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, her mind shifting to the day ahead. “Ready?” Sahara asked. Layla nodded, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. “Ready.”

As they stepped out of the tent, the cool morning air hit them, carrying with it the faint scent of sand. Mo and Elias were already packing up, their movements quick and efficient. Mo’s eyes flicked toward them as they approached, his gaze lingering a moment too long on Sahara. There was something predatory in the way he looked at her, a glint in his eyes that made her skin crawl. She couldn’t shake the feeling that his attention wasn’t just casual observation. His presence always carried an undercurrent of menace, and it sent a shiver down her spine, even in the warmth of the rising sun.

“About time,” Mo said, his voice sharp and impatient. He tossed a pack of dried fruit and nuts toward them, the gesture dismissive. “Eat quickly. We’re burning daylight.”

Sahara caught the pack, her jaw tightening as she exchanged a glance with Layla. The tension between them and Mo was palpable, a silent battle of wills that neither side was willing to concede. But for now, they had no choice but to play along.

They ate quickly, the food dry and tasteless, but enough to fuel them for the day ahead. Layla’s hand brushed against Sahara’s as they shared the pack, the touch light but reassuring. It was a small gesture, but it grounded Sahara, reminding her that she wasn’t alone in this.

“We’ll start at the rock formation,” Elias said, his voice calm but firm as he joined them. He pointed toward the distant outcrop, its jagged silhouette stark against the pale morning sky. “It’s where Mo said your mother disappeared, Sahara. If there’s any clue to the temple’s location, it’ll be there.”

Sahara nodded, her eyes fixed on the rocks. The formation loomed in the distance, its shape oddly symmetrical against the otherwise chaotic landscape. She felt a pang of unease as she studied it, the memory of her mother’s disappearance a constant ache in her chest. But beneath the unease was a flicker of excitement, a thrill that came with the possibility of discovery. She was so close now—closer than she had ever been.

Mo’s voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and commanding. “We’re wasting time,” he said, his tone impatient. “Let’s move.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and began striding toward the rock formation, his movements quick and purposeful. Sahara exchanged a glance with Elias, who gave her a small nod before following Mo. Layla fell into step beside Sahara.

The walk to the rock formation was quiet, the only sound the crunch of their boots on the sand and the occasional whisper of the wind. The rocks rose in a series of sharp, angular peaks, their arrangement almost deliberate. Elias paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied the formation.

“Look at this,” he breathed, his voice trembling with a reverent hush as if he might disturb the secrets of the ancient stones. He leaned closer, eyes narrowing to follow a hidden curve within the rugged rock. There, nestled amongst the jagged edges, lay a small formation—a delicate semblance of a star, barely discernible and easily overlooked. “One might have missed this subtle shape from any other angle.” Could it be the Star of Ishtar?”

Sahara’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the formation, its shape obvious now. The Star of Ishtar—a symbol of the goddess’s power and presence. It was a clear sign that they were on the right path, but it also filled her with a sense of foreboding. This was where her mother had disappeared. Whatever lay beyond these rocks, it had claimed her once before.

Mo’s voice broke the silence, sharp and impatient. “Enough staring,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Let’s find a way in.”

He moved forward without waiting for a response, his flashlight already in hand, as he began inspecting the rocks with a predatory focus. Sahara exchanged a worried glance with Layla, the tension between them palpable. Mo’s aggressive attitude was becoming harder to ignore, his insistence on taking the lead a clear assertion of dominance.

“We should discuss a plan,” Elias said, his voice calm but firm. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

Mo turned to glare at him, his eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous. “We don’t have time for plans,” he snapped. “If you’re too scared to follow, stay behind.”

The words hung in the air, the tension between them thick and unspoken. Sahara felt a chill run down her spine as she watched Mo turn back to the rocks. She knew they couldn’t let him take control—not when they were so close to the truth.

“We stick together,” she said, her voice firm. “No one goes off on their own.”

Mo’s lips curled into a sneer, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he continued his inspection of the rocks, his flashlight beam cutting through the shadows as he searched for a clue.

The group spread out, their flashlights illuminating the rocks as they searched for any sign of an entrance, the silence broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the occasional scrape of stone against stone.

As Sahara approached one of the larger rocks, she noticed something strange—a faint line carved into the stone, almost hidden by the shadows. She reached out to trace it, her fingers brushing against the cool surface. The line seemed to form a pattern, its edges smooth and deliberate.

“Over here,” she called out, her voice filled with excitement. “I think I found something.”

The others hurried over, their flashlights converging on the spot. Elias leaned in to study the carving, his eyes narrowing as he traced the pattern with his fingers. “This is it,” he said, his voice filled with quiet awe. “It’s a marker—a signpost to the entrance.”

Mo’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and impatient. “Then let’s move,” he said, his tone dismissive. “We’re wasting time.”

As they followed Mo deeper into the rock formation, the air grew cooler, the shadows closing in around them. Sahara’s flashlight beam danced over the walls, illuminating the intricate carvings that lined the stone. The patterns were strange and otherworldly, their shapes twisting and turning in ways that made her head spin. She felt a strange connection to the place, as if the temple itself was calling to her, drawing her deeper into its secrets.

Mo stopped abruptly, his flashlight beam illuminating a narrow passageway hidden between two large rocks. “This must be it,” he said, his voice filled with a strange intensity. “The entrance to the temple.”

Sahara’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the passageway, her mind racing with possibilities. This was it—the moment she had been waiting for. But as she stepped forward, Mo’s hand shot out, blocking her path.

“Not so fast,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ll take it from here.”

The power dynamics were clear, and Sahara knew she was walking a fine line. But she also knew she couldn’t let Mo take control—not when they were so close to the truth.

“We do this together,” she said, her voice firm. “Or not at all.”

Mo’s eyes narrowed, and then nodded. The adventure—and the danger—had only just begun.

The Passageway

The narrow passageway behind the hidden entrance swallowed them whole, its walls pressing in on either side as the team ventured deeper into the ancient structure. Mo led the way, his flashlight cutting through the thick darkness, its beam illuminating the rough-hewn stone walls. The air was cool and damp, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and something else—something ancient and unnameable. The passageway was so tight that they had to move single file, their shoulders brushing against the walls as they advanced. Behind Sahara, Layla’s breathing was steady but audible, a comforting presence in the oppressive silence.

The narrow passage eventually opened into a wider tunnel, its ceiling arching high above them. Intricate carvings covered the walls; figures and symbols on their surfaces seemed to shift and dance in the flickering flashlight light. Sahara paused, her breath catching as she took in the scenes depicted before her. The carvings were explicit, their eroticism undeniable. Figures intertwined in various poses, their bodies fluid and expressive, their faces filled with ecstasy or reverence—or both. The artistry was breathtaking, the details so vivid that it felt as though the figures might come alive at any moment.

“This is ... wow!,” Layla murmured, her voice low and husky as she stepped closer to the wall. Her flashlight beam traced the curves of a intricate carving, her fingers hovering just above the stone as if afraid to touch it. “They’re not individual sequences,” she said, her voice filled with quiet excitement. “They are connected—like panels in a comic strip. They’re telling a story.”

Sahara nodded, her eyes scanning the carvings. The figures seemed to be engaged in some kind of ritual, their movements deliberate and purposeful. She felt a strange pull as she studied them, a surge of arousal that she quickly pushed aside. This wasn’t the time to let her mind wander, no matter how provocative the carvings were.

Layla pointed to a figure at the center of one carving, a woman with an otherworldly presence, her body adorned with symbols of power. “This has to be Ishtar. She’s the focal point. But look at the surrounding figures—they’re not just worshippers. They’re part of something bigger.”

Sahara stepped closer, her flashlight beam joining Layla’s. The carvings depicted a series of erotic scenes, each one more explicit than the last. In one panel, a man kneeled before Ishtar, his cock erect and throbbing as she guided it into her cunt, her expression one of divine ecstasy. The detail was astonishing—the veins on his shaft, the way her lips parted as she took him in, the droplets of sweat glistening on their bodies. Sahara felt a flush of heat spread through her as she stared at the image, her own body responding to the raw sensuality of the scene.

“This one,” Layla said, her voice soft but urgent. She pointed to a carving where Ishtar stood at the center, her arms outstretched, her body glowing with divine energy. Around her, figures kneeled in submission, their bodies entwined in acts of worship. One woman had her head buried between Ishtar’s thighs, her tongue lapping at the goddess’s pussy as Ishtar arched her back in pleasure. Another man was bent over, his cock buried deep in the cunt of a worshipper behind him, their bodies moving in perfect sync. “It’s not just about sex,” Layla said, her voice trembling slightly. “It’s about power—about giving yourself to the goddess. Look at how they’re surrendering to her.”

Sahara felt a shiver run down her spine as she studied the carving. The figures seemed to pulse with energy, their movements fluid and hypnotic. She felt that strange pull again, a surge of arousal that she couldn’t quite shake. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath. “This is making me horny.”

Layla shot her a quick glance, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Focus,” she said, her tone teasing but firm. She moved to the next carving, her flashlight beam tracing the lines of a new scene. “This one’s different. Look—there’s another woman here. She’s close to Ishtar, almost like a confidante or a lover. But she’s ... mysterious. There’s something about her.”

Sahara leaned in, her eyes scanning the figure Layla had pointed out. The woman stood slightly behind Ishtar, her body partially obscured by the goddess’s radiant presence. Her face was serene but enigmatic, her expression unreadable.

The next panel showed the mysterious woman alone, her body entwined with another figure—a man or perhaps another deity. His cock buried deep inside her, their bodies locked in an intimate embrace. The woman’s head thrown back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream as she reached her climax. The energy was palpable, their movements fluid and deliberate. “This is about connection,” Layla said, her voice trembling slightly. “About power and intimacy. But it’s also about sacrifice. Look at her expression—she’s giving something up.”

Sahara felt a flicker of unease as she studied the carving. Quiet resolve filled the woman’s face; her eyes focused on something beyond. “What is she sacrificing?” Sahara asked, her voice soft.

Layla shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “But it’s part of the story. And it’s connected to Ishtar. Look at this.” She moved to the next carving, where Ishtar and the mysterious woman stood together, their bodies intertwined in an act of divine intimacy. Ishtar’s fingers were deep inside the woman’s cunt, her other hand cupping her breast, as they kissed passionately. The scene was breathtaking, their movements fluid and expressive, their faces filled with a kind of ecstasy that transcended the physical. “This is about unity,” Layla said, her voice barely above a whisper. “About two forces coming together to create something greater.”

Sahara felt that strange pull again, a surge of arousal that she couldn’t quite shake. The carvings seemed to pulse with energy, their eroticism almost overwhelming. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, but the images lingered, stirring something deep within her. “This is ... intense,” she said, her voice low.

Layla glanced at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It’s supposed to be,” she said. “This isn’t just art. It’s a message. And we need to figure out what it’s trying to tell us.”

Sahara nodded, her eyes scanning the carvings. The figures seemed to beckon to her, their movements fluid and hypnotic. She felt a flicker of unease, but also a strange sense of excitement. They were close to something—something big. And she was determined to see it through.

Mo’s voice broke the silence, sharp and impatient. “We’re wasting time,” he said, his tone dismissive. “We should split up. Cover more ground.”

Sahara turned to glare at him, her jaw tightening. “No,” she said firmly. “We stick together. This place is a maze, and we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

Mo’s eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking between Sahara and Layla. There was something predatory in the way he looked at them, a glint in his eyes that made Sahara’s skin crawl.

“Fine,” Mo said after a moment, his voice tight with barely concealed frustration. “But don’t blame me when we’re stuck down here for days.”

Elias, who had been quiet until now, stepped forward, his flashlight beam illuminating a section of the wall. “These carvings are incredible,” he said, his voice filled with quiet awe. “They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The level of detail ... it’s almost as if they’re meant to guide us.”

Sahara glanced at him, her curiosity piqued. “Guide us how?”

Elias traced a finger over a series of symbols carved into the stone. “These symbols correspond to texts I’ve studied,” he said, his tone scholarly. “They’re part of an ancient ritual—a way to navigate the temple. If we follow them, we should be able to find the Temple itself.”

Sahara frowned, her instincts prickling. “And what if your texts are wrong?” she asked. “What if these carvings are meant to be interpreted differently?”

Elias turned to look at her, his expression calm but firm. “The texts are our best guide,” he said. “We can’t just rely on intuition. This is a sacred place, Sahara. We need to respect its rules.”

Sahara felt a flicker of irritation. “Respect doesn’t mean blindly following a script,” she shot back. “There are no rules. These carvings are alive, Elias. They’re telling us something. We just need to listen.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and biting, and for a moment, the tunnel seemed to shrink around them. Sahara’s mind flashed back to a similar argument years ago, back at the university, when Elias had been her mentor—and had just become her lover. They had been in his office, the air thick with the scent of old books and coffee, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Elias had been just as stubborn, his approach to archeology as rigid and traditional as it was now. Sahara had challenged him, her voice rising as she accused him of being too cautious, too afraid to take risks.

“Your approach to archeology is the same as your approach to sex,” she had snapped, her words cutting through the tension. “Thorough, traditional. It gets the job done, but you need to take more risks. Be bold, be creative, intuitive.”

Elias had stared at her, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else—something raw and unspoken. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, without a word, he had crossed the room, his hands gripping her waist as he lifted her onto his desk. Papers scattered to the floor as he hiked up her skirt, his fingers fumbling with the waistband of her underwear. He didn’t even give her time to step out of them, yanking them down to her ankles and leaving them tangled there as he exposed her bare pussy. Sahara gasped, her breath catching in her throat as Elias opened his fly, his cock already hard and erect, straining against the fabric of his pants. He freed himself in one swift motion, the thick length of him springing free, and without hesitation, he pushed into her, burying himself to the hilt in one deep, relentless stroke.

Sahara’s back arched, her nails digging into the edge of the desk as Elias began to piston into her, his movements rough and urgent. Each thrust was deep, deliberate, his cock filling her, stretching her in ways that made her gasp and moan. The sound of their love-making echoed in the small office, mingling with their ragged breaths. Elias’s hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he fucked her with a kind of desperation, his voice low and gruff as he growled, “Is this bold enough for you?”

Sahara couldn’t answer, her body too overwhelmed by the intensity of it. She could only cling to him, her legs wrapping around his waist as he drove into her again and again, each stroke pushing her closer to the edge. When he finally came, it was with a guttural groan, his cock pulsing inside her as he spilled his semen deep into her pussy, filling her until she felt it seeping out, warm and wet against her thighs.

Afterwards, Sahara had slid off the desk, her legs trembling as she pulled her underwear back up, the fabric damp with Elias’s cum. She remembered the feeling of it leaking out of her as she walked to her next class, the sensation of his essence dripping down her legs a constant, intimate reminder of what they had done. It had been reckless, impulsive, and utterly unforgettable.

The memory faded as quickly as it had come, leaving Sahara standing in the tunnel, her chest rising and falling with the weight of it. The tension between her and Elias was palpable, their conflicting approaches clashing in the close confines of the tunnel. Layla stepped between them, her voice calm but firm. “We need to work together,” she said. “Both of you have valuable insights. Let’s not waste time arguing.”

Sahara took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Layla was right—they couldn’t afford to be divided, not when they were so close to the temple. She turned back to the carvings, her flashlight beam tracing the intricate patterns. As she studied them, she felt that strange pull again, a surge of arousal that she couldn’t quite shake. The figures seemed to beckon to her, their movements fluid and hypnotic. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, but the images lingered, stirring something deep within her.

Layla’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Look at this,” she said, her tone filled with quiet excitement. She was crouched near the base of the wall, her flashlight beam illuminating a section of the carving that dust had partially obscured. “There’s a pattern here—a hidden one.”

Sahara and Elias kneeled beside her, their eyes scanning the section Layla had uncovered. The carvings here were different, their lines more angular and deliberate. They formed a kind of map, their patterns twisting and turning in a way that seemed to show direction.

“You’re right,” Sahara said, her voice filled with awe. “It’s a guide. It’s showing us the way.”

Elias leaned in to study the carvings, his expression thoughtful. “It’s possible,” he admitted. “But we need to be careful. These symbols could mean anything.”

Sahara shot him a look, her irritation flaring again. “Or they could mean exactly what they look like,” she said. “We can’t overthink this, Elias. Sometimes the simplest answer is the right one.”

Elias opened his mouth to respond, but Layla cut him off. “Let’s follow it,” she said, her tone firm. “If this leads us to the temple, we’ll know soon enough.”

Sahara nodded, her eyes meeting Layla’s. There was a silent understanding between them, a shared determination that went beyond words. Together, they traced the pattern, their flashlights illuminating the path as they moved deeper into the tunnel.

The carvings grew more intricate as they advanced, their eroticism more pronounced. Sahara felt that strange pull again, her body reacting to the explicit depictions in ways she couldn’t control. Her mind wandered, imagining what it might have been like to take part in the rituals depicted on the walls. The figures seemed to come alive in her mind, their movements fluid and hypnotic, their ecstasy almost tangible.

Layla’s voice broke through her thoughts again, pulling her back to the present. “Sahara,” she said, her tone soft but urgent. “Look.”

Sahara followed her gaze, her flashlight beam illuminating a section of the wall where the carvings seemed to converge. The figures here were larger, their poses more elaborate, their expressions filled with a kind of divine ecstasy. At the center of the carving was a doorway, its edges lined with symbols that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

“This is it,” Sahara said, her voice filled with quiet awe. “The entrance to the temple.”

Elias stepped forward, his flashlight beam tracing the symbols around the doorway. “These are the same symbols from the texts,” he said, his tone filled with quiet excitement. “We’re close. Very close.”

Sahara felt a surge of adrenaline, her heart pounding in her chest. The doorway loomed before them, its edges lined with symbols that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it—the moment she had been waiting for.

Another night

The hidden entrance to the temple loomed before them, its ancient stone frame etched with symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the fading light. Sahara stood at the threshold, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness as she peered into the abyss. Her heart raced with anticipation, her body thrumming with the need to push forward, to uncover the secrets that lay within. She turned to the others, her voice sharp with urgency. “We need to go in. Now.”

Mo stepped forward, his expression dark and his tone dripping with disdain. “Finally, someone with some sense,” he grunted, his voice rough and impatient. “We’ve wasted enough time already. Let’s get this over with.”

Layla shook her head, her arms crossed over her chest as she stepped between Sahara and the entrance. “We’re tired, Sahara,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “We’re hungry. We don’t know what’s in there, and rushing in blind is reckless. We need to rest, regroup, and approach this with clear heads.”

Sahara’s jaw tightened, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “We don’t have time for this,” she snapped, her voice rising. “Every second we waste is a second we could uncover something incredible. You’re holding us back, Layla.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting, and Sahara immediately regretted them. She saw the flicker of hurt in Layla’s eyes, the way her shoulders tensed, and she opened her mouth to apologize, but Layla spoke first.

“I understand your eagerness, Sahara,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “But rushing in won’t help us. Do you know what Howard Carter did when he discovered Tutankhamun’s tomb? He waited. He sealed the entrance and slept on it. He knew the tomb wasn’t going anywhere, and that he needed to approach it with a methodical mind. That’s what we need to do.”

Sahara hesitated, her frustration warring with the logic of Layla’s words. She glanced at Elias, who stood silently nearby, his expression thoughtful. He nodded slightly, his voice calm when he finally spoke. “Layla’s right. We’re no good to anyone if we’re exhausted and unfocused. Let’s go back to camp, rest, and start fresh in the morning.”

Mo let out a derisive snort, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the group. “Fine,” he growled. “Waste more time. But don’t expect me to babysit you all night. I’ll keep watch from the ridge. Someone needs to make sure we’re not ambushed by whatever’s out there.”

Sahara’s eyes narrowed, her distrust of Mo flaring. “You’re not going off on your own,” she said firmly. “We stick together.”

Mo smirked, his tone mocking. “Relax, princess. I’m not going far. But if you think I’m sleeping in the same camp as you lot, you’re delusional. I’ll be close enough to keep an eye on things, but far enough to avoid your drama.”

Before Sahara could argue further, Layla placed a hand on her arm. “Let him go,” she said quietly. “He will not wander off. And honestly, we could use the space.”

Sahara hesitated, her distrust of Mo flaring. She narrowed her eyes, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Fine,” she said, her tone sharp. “But leave your gear in the camp. I don’t want you wandering back here ‘by accident’ in the middle of the night. And if you’re not back by first light, we’re leaving without you.”

Mo rolled his eyes and stalked off, his figure disappearing into the shadows as he made his way toward the ridge. The tension between them lingered, a silent reminder of the unresolved conflicts that simmered beneath the surface.

Back at the main camp, the trio settled in for the night. The vast desert sky stretched above them, a canopy of stars that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light. The air was cool; the silence broken only by the soft crackle of the fire and the occasional whisper of the wind. Despite the beauty of the night, an uneasy tension lingered, the weight of the temple’s secrets pressing down on them.

Sahara sat by the fire, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared into the flames. Her mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead, her body still thrumming with restless energy. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Layla standing beside her, her expression soft and understanding.