Returning user identified. Terminal now active. Unlocking data log continuation for analysis.

Returning user identified. Terminal now active. Unlocking data log continuation for analysis.

There is something here. Cant you hear it? Cant you smell it? It touches you, infests you even as you stand. And yet you cannot resist.

I read all of their logs, the tales of travellers who came before me. A crimson eye. The rise of the Sentinels. A world of glass that blinks. I understand little of it, yet still it fills me with dread and a strange kind of loathing. A hatred of myself, the origin of which I do not know.

It is the last log which concerns me most.