The song echoes, it ripples through the void. We have seen the fruits of your labour. One of yours has spoken about us. We can assume who because we know the person 'they' spoke to. We are starting to question the viability of this. However, we see your desperation and are willing to give you a chance. You need us and we need you. You need Leniex. You need what remains in the forgotten tomb. We need supplies. Are you still willing to come closer to our side, to come into our embrace, Bellamy Crowe of the Prometheans? Or will you turn your back on us and suffer the consequences of your own doing? What will it be?
incoming transmission detected...
signal source scrambled
establishing secure connection...
video feed active fm: Major Crowe, Bellamy to: ??? subject: Posturing
This must be the most vague communique I've ever received in my entire life. I have nothing to speak of regarding supply lines anywhere, that's far above my paygrade, and I am risking a lot even responding to something with encryption as shoddy as this.
I know what you are, and I don't appreciate the sudden change in tone, either. Wouldn't it be a laugh if Freud and Hideyoshi were right?
I'm going to be somewhere you can find me, where the veil is thinner. You'll need to work out the rest yourself.
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