ATROPHY: Parousia

20th November, 1923 (I guess)


feels a bit weird to greet a piece of paper, actually. Guess I'm just relieved that they finally managed to get me a notebook. A few more days and I would have started scribbling on the walls out of desperation.

I have to externalize my thoughts, somehow. And I can't talk to any of the people here. No matter what happens - or whatever they do to me - I mustn't tell them. If that means that I'll have to eat my way through hundreds of pages - so be it. I will get through this.

Three years, he said. That's all it takes to bring Ionia down. And boy, do I hope he's right.

I'm still trying to pinpoint where I am, exactly. There's a mountain range outside, and the air feels comparably thin.
Probably some place in Struma. Greg told me that EnKAD liked to ship rogue agents there. Or maybe they're keeping me close to home. Who knows.

The entire thing is a huge gamble, anyway. But if it works, we might just be able to change history. And besides, I'd probably be bored to death in Trachi, anyway. I'm a bit sad I missed the revolution and all that. But I'm sure they've got it all under control over there.

As for me, I get to take a little vacation. To be blunt, I've grown incredibly tired of people, anyway. Ever since I got that particular feeling, right after we arrived in Trachi. It's like, someone was watching us. And not only a single entity - but hundreds and hundreds of them. Something must've clicked in me. Because from that point onwards, I couldn't care less about what happened in this world. As long as this presence was with me, I'd do anything.

I hoped that I could take it away with me. To this place, where no one would be smart enough to figure out who I was really talking to. But so far, I haven't felt it again. Ever since Ari got shot, it's like "it" doesn't really care about me, anymore. There was a hint of a glimpse when they were working me with picanas, a few days ago. But that might just as well have been my imagination. Or them trying to pull some weird shit on me.

In any case, it was a cute little trick. But it takes much more than that to get through to me. The harder they push, the more I retreat. And I have more than enough material to feed them half-truths for the next few months. At the very least until Daph gets here. If Atlas hasn't killed her, that is.

Oh well, I guess we'll just have to see how it pans out.
For now, I should probably close here. After all, I have way more days than pages ahead of me.

God, I've never eaten actual paper before, I think. How do you even do that?
With a glass or water, or what?

Heh. I'm stalling, I think.
Let's get it over with.


Nov 18, 2021


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