Pascal's Digital Journal

[Euca]

Time passes slowly on the fronts. The exciting thrill of being free and awake from the dark slumber Pascal had found himself in had worn off and the harsh reality of war suddenly struck him. From the windows of the Oubli he stared into the flames that engulfed Leeds, hungry like a Kingdom's desire to fell her enemies. He thought that if he listened closely, he could hear the screams of the civilians left on the planet as they ran like cockroaches exposed to light. The training instructor said that they'd have the crush the Bretonian cockroaches, but Pascal would have never have envisioned it like this.

Lazily, he reached for his journal.

---

"Entry #8" Loaded...
Opening Entry...

---

[img float=right]http://i.imgur.com/FK04Hwy.png?1[/img]

Entry #8:

8.1.738 A.G.S

Have you ever seen a fire that can consume so much, with little disregard to human life?

I thought such flames only spewed from the jaws of giant fairy-tale beasts that stole princesses and hoarded gold like bankers. But fairy-tales aren't real. They're made up. So how can I be standing here, watching as such a devastating weapon is used against the innocent people that got caught up in a war they never wanted?

Roaches. That was a funny analogy. I remember when the instructor called the Bretonians that. All I could remember was thinking about flicking on the lights to the engine rooms of Chartres and watching an infestation of them scatter away. Now all I think about is screaming. So much screaming.

I should have known from the start. I should have formally denied a week in, saying I left the gas on. LaBlanc was right, war is not a playground for excited toddlers. I've done so much that can't be undone.

To top this off, the Navy is holding something secret from us, according to Camille. A secret so big, she had to leave to find the true answers. I fear that the ONI may be onto me, now that Camille has sent me that message. I do not know what to do, announce that the Navy is corrupt and face death or not tell anyone and be stalked by the eyes of the King for the rest of my life.

I said dragons aren't real. But I was wrong. I'm apart of the beast that pillages everything. I am the problem.

---

Entry complete...
Returning to Table of Contents...

---

Pascal drops his journal and slides it across the cold metal floor with the heel of his boot. He grabs his legs and tucks himself into a ball, waiting for the bad feelings to pass.