"I dread to know what fate befalls me at the hands of this vile creature. All that exists for me in this place is endless pursuit, the loathsome burning in my lungs and body. Despite my impossible task I travel onwards, for the alternative is far too grim to comprehend. In my youth my fears were tangible. A scraped knee. A broken bone. The untimely demise of those I share infinite love for. This dread that hangs above my head, thirsting for my end, is farther than any wicked conjuration my mind has plagued me with all throughout my life. It would be absurd, in a way, if I could not feel the pumping of my blood, the heat behind my ears, the screaming of every cell in my body pressing me onwards towards the unpromised relief of shelter. I came here with a mission objective and have found only hell. Ruins. A Sisyphean cycle in which I find my fingertips not pressed against the boulder, but clenched tightly into my sweat soaked palms, fleeing ever downhill from an enormous force of malice that seems to torture me by design. To cease my journey is death. To give into my aching muscles is obliteration. I have not yet subscribed to my cosmically maligned fate, but as the hours tick onwards it is hard to push such things from one’s mind."