I am writing this under the restraint of a consuming force, far greater than any kind, that shall soon surge onto our land. The Shadow proved itself to be more vicious than anything we could have foreseen.
The mere act of revealing these words, shall be regarded as an offence in the path of our Great Lord, but the duty of truth remains mine, for all of my fellowmen are now gone.
To halt the invasion, we did as He commanded and set out to fathom the Shadow. According to His will, we unearthed the sacred corpse of one of His faithful White Knight. The only one to have been saved in time from the fight against the abomination and to have escaped the claws of the Dark. A most precious soul who was lucky enough not to be fully corrupted, the very one we were about to plunge into torment once again.
The body was moved to the Old Sanctuary, a forgotten place, hidden from the rest of the world. The experiment took place there, and it was with some reluctance that I brought my Ocular Observer with us.
My fingers trembled as I put in place the instrument, reflecting the misfortune my own invention was about to cause. I recalled the words I taught so many years - piercing the eye to access the soul - for they were the only remnants of a past not yet stained by the wickedness of my sins.
The unfortunate had not yet returned to dust, preserved by the Shadow, he had suffered the same fate as the others: unable to live but forbidden to die.
I adjusted the lens, and the needle made its way to the depths of his soul. Pain hit faster than I expected. He struggled with a strength inconceivable for a man, far exceeding his former self, but the chains were enough to contain his ravenous brutality. I then proceeded to investigate a fragment of his mind and quickly realized that what lied inside of him was of the same nature.
A mass of black and viscous liquid sat in an abyssal void. Flailing back and forth, it devoured every part of it. Driven by a macabre impulse, I looked inside.
I entered the product of a broken mind with no other purpose than to corrupt that of others. All the infamy, all the vileness of mankind was there, floundering in a pond of pure blackness. My senses slowly faded as I approached its bottom, letting darkness merge with me. Interrupted by one of my peers I managed to escape the horrific sight and retrieved my instrument, then gave way to someone else.
The images still fresh in my mind, I tried to put into words what was then indescribable to me. Absorbed by this vision, I did not notice the small black hand reaching from inside the corpse to my fellow's throat. It grabbed him with the same violence that animated the Shadow, broke its neck, and the second after threw himself at the rest of my men.
I immediately fled to the back, entered what seemed to be a vault and closed the stone doors before it could reach me. Screams erupted from outside, but I was certain it could not get in here.
A shiver ran down my spine as I discovered the surroundings. The ground was cold, deathly cold. A heavy silence hung over me, and darkness reigned supreme. I did my best to summon what little fire I had, but the distance from my lord allowed only a spark to remain in the palm of my hands. It revealed huge, damaged wall tapestries as well as a stele, standing in the middle of the room, with engravings written in a language unknown to me.
All this led me to suppose that I had just entered the inner sanctuary, where prayers took place, and that these last clues testified to the passage of ancient, forgotten cult.
I waited here for what felt like days, waiting for the beast's rage to subside. When silence returned, I tried to open the doors again, in vain, my exit was blocked from the outside. I was left with the realization that escape was now impossible.
The sacred fire of my Lord served as my only source of light, my only guide, but trapped in its lair, darkness quickly began to reclaim its rights. It was now free to infiltrate my mind.
A voice manifested from deep within me, as if dictated by its orders I stared into the dark, crossed it and found at the end a perfectly preserved mirror fixed to the wall. I cannot say for sure whether all this could have been the product of my fancy, but at that moment, I saw my reflection beckoning me to join him.
Once again, the voice spoke, and incited my urge for truth. The Shadow was yet to be fathomed.
I took back my instrument and set it up to observe my own soul. The needle was free to use all its cruelty on me. Pain began to spread everywhere: my veins blazed with destructive madness, my muscles tightened with a raging force and my body deformed as if an all-consuming force were trying to take hold of it. Crushed under the pressure of the most violent and furious agony, I fainted.
When I came back to myself, my vision was blurred. With only my remaining eye, I groped around and became aware of the state of my right hand. A terrible wound went through the whole of it and all my fingers were broken. At my feet lay dozens of shards of glass, I raised my head and found the mirror that was now shattered.
Unable to move properly, I crawled over to it and found my instrument. The needle had successfully managed to capture a fragment of my soul. I no longer cared about anything else, that voice kept calling me, and my only desire was to understand its nature.
I plunged into the depths of my soul, at the bottom of which was the same black liquid, this time more docile, less obscure, and in which my reflection appeared to me. I touched its surface with my fingertips, trying to discern its origin. A drop fell and the sound of its impact echoed in this vast, lonely void.
My reflection blurred; I remained motionless as he continued to approach. His arm emerged from the surface and grabbed me with brute force, dragging me with him into his abyss.
I tried to escape, but my body only sank deeper into it. Dozens, then hundreds of hands continued to carry me away while my reflection made its way back to where I came. With all my might, I pulled back the horrors that clung to me, one by one, as I felt a wave, bigger and darker, gradually covering me.
In my great struggle, images of my past appeared to me, the people I had turned my back on, those I had betrayed, those who even now continued to wait for me. My mind was beginning to suffocate.
In a last effort, I managed to extricate myself from their clutches and returned to the surface, fleeing as I had always done, while in the depths of my soul resounded the cry of a child begging me to stay.
Only then did I return to reality, with the sensation of waking up from a nightmare that had only delivered an even more terrible one. Still gasping for breath, my only desire was to gather my last strength and write down everything I had just seen.
As words came one after the other, a visceral terror settled over me, one that I had refused to admit until then. All my life, from my research tower, immersed in my work, I have observed the world, certain that I would be safe there, sheltered from the consequences of my choices.
It is now clear to me that the Shadow will swallow all and everything, it will drag to his pit of misery the sinners who have not been blessed by death yet and devour any trace of essence left. It has already begun to ravage our borders and will soon reach our home. It cannot be stopped.
Whether it be through the intermediary of a vessel, or directly confronted by its foul figure, the Shadow will find a way to get inside each and every one of us.
Even though my great lord had given me the immense honor of being the one to figure out how to stop the abomination, I failed. Once again, I only disappointed those around me, and even in the face of Him, I failed to prove myself worthy.
But in the depths of my being, there resounds once again that voice which reminds me that all this no longer matters.
My final judgment has come, it is too late. I know it is just a vain act to ease my conscience and yet I am still writing. I know my voice shall never escape these stone walls, for I am trapped within myself for eternity.
I am on the verge of oblivion. My wounds no longer bleed, cold is slowly covering every part of my soul.
If these words are to be my last, may them at least be addressed to you, whom I deceived more than anyone else. Claws of darkness surrounds me, and yet, your distant memory makes me feel warm again, as if you were still by my side.
O my beloved, if you knew how sorry I am. That I can't see the fruit of our love grow is my deepest regret, and I only realize now how bright you were in this fog that served as my life.
Can you hear these words? For they stand as my truth, the one I've sought for so many years.