1 noviembre, 2012 3 comentarios
Final entry? Left Veidt’s office just before midnight. Dreidberg, convinced Veidt’s behind everything, is serious about visiting antartica. Owlship capable, apparently, but are we? Veidt. Cannot imagine more dangerous opponent.
Assuming journey possible, tracking him to his lair only option. Still feel uneasy. Unfamiliar territory… He could kill us both, there is snow. Nobody would ever know… First night of november. We are cold tonight.
Offices below, headstones marking daily graves of thousands. Inside, across clock faces, as observed as those of celebrities, hands commence final laps. Oblivion gallops closer, favoring the spur, sparing the rein. We think we will be gone soon.
Veidt is faster than Dreidberg. Perhaps faster than us. Return from mission seems unlikely. The last entry will shortly mail journal to only people we trust. Tell Dreidberg we need to check our maildrop. He believes us.
If reading this now, wheter we are alive or dead, you will know truth: whatever precise nature of this conspiracy, Adrian Veidt is responsible. Have done best to make this legible. Believe it paints disturbing picture.
Appreciate your recent support adn hope world survives long enough for this reach you, but tanks and freighters are in east Iran, and writing is on wall. For our own part, regret nothing. Have lived life, free from compromise…
… and step into the shadow now without complaint. Anonymous, November first, 2012.