Shades of Conspiracy
By Joker's Specter

This is a story I wrote when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. It was removed, and I lost all of the chapters and content to it. However, this is also quite possibly the only story I've ever written where I had nearly the entire complex plot planned out. Since most of it's in my head, I'd like to give it another shot. Everything is being rewritten, so if you read the previous version (6 years ago?) then expect some differences. Quite a few of them will be major, as specific scenes left my memory long ago, or I just didn't like them when I previously wrote them. If anybody out there for some reason has a copy of the old version, I'd very much appreciate it if they could send it my way. It'd speed up the rewrite process. With all that being said, I hope GS fans new and old can enjoy my most ambitious story to date.

I'd also like to mention that another push I had in rewriting this story was that I recently began reading again a very excellent AU fiction titled "Project Psynergy" by Jake Delfeir. He and I used to talk about our AU fics together back in the day, and reading his amazing story made me want to give it another shot. I definitely recommend checking out his story-he still updates it to this day, unlike most authors with their stories. Myself included, unfortunately.

This is an Alternate Universe story taking place in a futuristic land. Reviews will be very much appreciated.
-Joker

Prologue

Disclaimer: Golden Sun is owned by Nintendo and Camelot.

The city of Weyard was unlike any other that had come before it. The government's tight grip on the citizens set the stage for control. The general populace's unwillingness to rebel and fight complicated things further for the free thinkers of the society. It wasn't a peaceful time, but there was little violence. To most people, at the end of the day the only thing that mattered was what was on television, what was for dinner, or whether or not they would get lucky.

Then there was a wave of spontaneous robberies. Desperate thieves packed weapons at their hips or in their back pockets. A homeowner was lucky if he didn't catch the thief. Some people had little to lose in taking a life.

And then, something changed. The city evolved into a new species entirely. Within thirty years, the city had been reborn.

The city was moved.

As if to erase the past, buildings began to be constructed directly parallel to the city of Weyard. The new dark-blue buildings all had a metallic, eye-catching sheen to them. Citizens were invited to move in at a low cost. The apartment complexes were all identical to the next, so no one person was above the other. Not a single family could say they lived in a bigger home than any other who lived in this new Weyard.

Skyscrapers larger than anything built in the old Weyard were constructed, attracting even more people. The city was becoming lively. Every person who didn't want to be left behind relocated to the metallic city. As a bonus to the people who wanted to live peacefully, guns were outlawed in new Weyard. Many families with young children lined up to get into new Weyard, their minds filled with the promise of a safer environment. Even the government changed its policies so that not a single person in Weyard , government or civilian, wielded a gun. Swords were issued to the government's lawmen and women instead of a firearm.

And then, eyebrows were raised when a wall was constructed. The ambitious project put a wall around both cities, new and old, boxing them both in together for eternity. Nobody knew why it was put up. The only two gates in and out were heavily guarded from the moment construction began. Visitors from other cities were no longer allowed in. Trade was handled at the gates, and traveled no further. Trespassers were killed on sight.

For a few years, people in both new and old Weyard were content. They all had jobs and homes. The civilians in the new Weyard were making more money and bragged about being happier, so more people came over from the old city. Abandoned homes started to decay. Lawns died out, and entire neighborhoods were becoming wastelands.

And then the unthinkable happened; it became a law to relocate. The government's usually aggressive behavior became much, much worse when it announced that people found living in old Weyard were subject to the death penalty, and would be executed then and there without a trial. People who refused to leave the houses they'd lived in for their entire lives were slain on their front lawns or in their favorite chair. If anybody in the new city raised their voice against the act, the government claimed it gave everybody a fair chance to reconsider, and that the dead knew of the consequences.

Soon, the news stopped reporting of the events in the old city. Instead of the bloodshed happening miles away from their own homes, the people of Weyard watched as the news showed the brilliant new projects underway, or how the government was doing everything it could to please the citizens.

They knew nothing of the active rebellion in old Weyard. Dozens of people were killed daily in an attempt to finally shut off the old city from the new; a purge of any and all who refused to join the content in the new city. People were shunned if they weren't in a shining apartment in the metallic city. The followers would laugh at anybody who missed the old city, and turn around and use their simple, plentiful currency to buy everything and anything the new Weyard had to offer them. They were in the government's clutches more than ever, and they didn't even know it.

Any mention of the old city painted it as a broken-down, dangerous wasteland. Entering it was illegal, and in most cases, any brave soul who left to check out the old city disappeared from the public's sight forever.

Often, the opposite would happen, and someone with torn clothing and a malnourished body would stumble through into the new city. Someone who had hidden out in the old city, avoiding the execution squads or fighting against them. The news called those people, and anybody still residing in the old Weyard, 'Homeless'. When a Homeless person showed their face in the new city, it was often a person who had finally given in and wanted to join their friends and family in the rapidly growing metallic version of Weyard. A rebel who had defected.

They, too, disappeared, never to be seen again. The government had given them their chance.

Years passed. The wall around the two cities was completed and stretched hundreds of feet into the air. The foundations of the wall went well below a person could hope to reach by digging. A construction vehicle was required to even hope to get that far, but the only vehicles given to Weyard's people were hovercrafts used to get around the city. All of them were blue in color and given a unique number; it was the only way to distinguish whose was whose in a crowded parking space.

Businesses were set up by the government and watched consistently. Hospitals were places where disappearances were a common occurrence. People were concerned, but the news could spin anything in the government's favor. Television networks were nearly identical to the next, all of them being guided by the same shadowy hand.

None of that compared to how the schools were run.

Children were taught in front of the television on educational networks until the age of thirteen. From thirteen to eighteen, students gathered at a tall building where they were sorted into many different classes. They were questioned, tested, and taught for five years. For five years the officials would figure out what made each student tick. Depending on how things went at what was called the Placement School, one of three things would happen.

The first and most frequent option was getting sent to the school in northern Weyard, where they were eventually integrated into the society's working class. They were placed in jobs based on what they were good at and what they would enjoy. As long as they enjoyed their job, nobody would complain. In the rare instance that people complained about their job, they were said to have relocated to a new job, and never seen again in the massive city.

The second, less frequent option was for a person to get shipped off to the school in southern Weyard. Attendees of the southern school eventually became integrated into the government's workings, often as a member of their four-man squads of wandering agents-the physical appearance of the government's iron fist. Most cities in the world had policemen and women. Weyard had the agents-a horrific, efficient blending of old Weyard's police force and new Weyard's execution squads who fought the rebellious Homeless. Once the deadly agents were introduced, Homeless activities dwindled away as they were forced into hiding.

If a person was thrust into the third option, it was a big deal. The rarest event after turning eighteen was for a person to be sent to the 'Special School'; a school with no known location. Even more bizarre was that people who were sent there were always said to have found a high-profile job in another city, and supposedly shipped out without a word to their family or friends.

Once a person entered the Special School, they were considered heroes. People talked about the amazing jobs they would go into, or the scientific advances that particular person would help discover. Parents would weep in happiness as the government agents would come and take their eighteen-year-old genius to the school that would surely put their abilities to use in helping humanity. The teenager would often hug his or her family in a tight embrace that would seemingly never end. The tears would be frequent, but the teenager would tell his parents and siblings that he or she would write them often. Then they'd walk out the door with the government agents, waving excitedly to their family as they walked down the hallway and out of the metallic apartment building.

And, like many others before them, they were never seen again.

!-E- -X- -T- -R- -A-!
!-L- -I- -V- -E- -S-!

- Entry 1 -
Hello Journal! My name is Kraden.

I'm an eighteen-year old guy on my way to exciting opportunities! I've lived my entire life up to this point with my two parents and no siblings.

Sorry if that sounded weird. The agents who picked me up told me to write that. My age, my name, living conditions prior to being shipped off, things like that. Really, though, I am excited. I'm going to the Special School! People who go there become the heroes of the modern age. World changers, I like to call them; it's simple and understandable. I couldn't be happier!

I've never written a journal before, but I think I'm getting along very well so far. The agents gave you to me. I'm supposed to write my thoughts and feelings as I go through school. An interesting concept. Apparently every person attending the school has to do it. I'll probably have fun with it. And don't worry; I'll try to write my essays in a different notebook!

I'd be lying if I were to say I'm not nervous. I'm the first person to be sent to the Special School this year, and the year is nearly over. If ever I need an ego boost, I'll have to look no further than that fact. Hundreds of thousands in Weyard, and little brainy Kraden is the only one in a year to grace the hallways of the Special School. I think I might be getting emotional!

I have to be honest, this is easier than I thought. I never had many friends before. The only people I could talk to about my thoughts were my parents, and anything I said went right over their heads. Maybe I can put my more complicated thoughts and ideas down here... At the very least, you'll help me visualize them, won't you?

I'm told we're nearing the school, so I have to put you in my bag. Until next time!

- Entry 2 -
Day one, complete! I must have fallen asleep in the car... I don't remember much. I was quite perplexed, and wondered if maybe I'd been forcefully put unconscious somehow, but I'm okay and my things are all with me. I can't see a reason for putting me out unless they wanted to harm me somehow, so I guess I just fell asleep. Maybe all of the excitement is getting to me.

I haven't exactly been to any classes yet. So far I've only seen my room, which isn't much. I've been instructed to stay here by some guy in a suit who introduced himself as the headmaster. He didn't give me a name, unfortunately.

For a place called the Special School, things aren't so special. My room looks more like a cell than anything. The bed is lumpy and cold, and there are no windows. The bathroom is almost nothing more than a hole in the wall with a toilet, sink, and shower crammed all together. And would it kill them to get a bookshelf in here with some good reading material? Thank goodness I brought my own books, or I'd try to go right back to sleep.

Well, Journal, as much as I like writing, my hand is cramping. I'd better give it a rest for a while. To quote my favorite news anchor, "This is Kraden signing off! Good night Weyard!"

- Entry 3 -
Things are definitely off here, Journal. This school is an enigma, and it doesn't make sense to me. Instead of attending classes, I'm to remain in my room. They actually lock me in here, too. Maybe prison cell wasn't too far off in my last entry...

I've been visited twice daily by the headmaster. This guy calls himself Dodonpa. He looks like he's trying to condition his body to be as pointy as possible. Elbows, knees, fingers...even his mustache ends in a fierce point at each end. He's real lanky, too. If I had met him on the street back home, I would've turned around and run in the other direction.

He tells me that they're prepping me for the real deal. Those were his words, not mine. The more I think about it, the more I wonder to myself if I didn't really just fall asleep. Have I been kidnapped?

I need to think about this some more, alone. Sorry Journal.

- Entry 4 -
Finally! Some real education! And just when I was starting to doubt this school. It's not exactly the type of subject matter I was hoping to be introduced to, but at least it's something. They've set me up with a television, like in the old days when I was little. Not very effective if you ask me, but at least I get to learn at my own pace. The rewind button on this remote has already had its symbol rubbed off by my constant use. I love to analyze things.

My current project is this video they've given me about the history of Weyard and the government. Apparently our current governor, Babi, has god-like powers. Weird? Yes, definitely, but he hasn't aged in over thirty years! He's the oldest man in Weyard, and he has the mind and body of someone half his age. The video says he's quickly coming up on his hundredth birthday; that's something that isn't public knowledge, if I remember correctly. I'd be reluctant to believe it, but this video is very persuasive. I'll believe he's been alive that long. The godly powers are a sham, though; that much should be apparent to anybody with a brain. That's probably why they haven't tried to show the general population this video explaining why he's been alive that long. It's strange that nobody has questioned it yet...

Come to think of it, didn't Weyard's movement project start thirty years ago? Hm, curious.

I don't think I ever told you what I specialize in. You see, Journal, I'm a natural chemist. That's what the folks who recruited me to the Special School say, anyway. I know that with the elements provided on this planet, amazing things can be done to the human body. At home I was able to create a compound that would keep your body at a consistent temperature for an entire week. I could walk into a meat locker at the butcher down the road and never feel cold. Amazing, right?

But that's nothing to what this Babi guy has apparently figured out. Nobody realizes it yet, I think, but my theory is that he's discovered a compound to extend his life. Potentially, if he has infinite resources to create it with, he can live forever.

Absolutely incredible.

I'm glad I have you to discuss this with. I don't think another soul would believe my ramblings.

- Entry 5 -
I had a weird thought, Journal.

If the government is lying to me about Babi's source of his longevity, then what else could they be lying about? It sends chills down my aching spine.

My whole body is aching lately. I haven't had a comfortable place to sit or sleep in so long, I'm beginning to miss those phases when I'd sleep on the couch back home. Even if the cushions did keep falling off, it was better than this rug they call a bed. I'm going to complain next time Headmaster Dodonpa visits.

- Entry 6 -
I did it. I complained.

He was surprisingly kind about it. He explained the accommodations were the result of the school's almost non-existent budget. It makes sense when you think of how few people attend the school. But even then, couldn't they at least go back to my house and bring that couch?

Hopeful wishing. That's all I ever do lately. I've been here for over a week and I've yet to start my real studies. I once again find myself wondering if I've been lied to.

- Entry 7 -
It seems you're the only one I can trust after all, Journal.

Most of my things have been stolen. I don't know how it could have happened. I haven't left my room since I've been here, and the headmaster is the only person I ever see. All my meals are served via a chute from the ceiling (I thought it was fascinating at first), so no maids or butlers would be around my room.

Everything but my change of clothes...gone. I pounded on my door until the headmaster showed up. When I explained the situation, he told me he'd look into it. Somehow I doubt that.

I've decided I want to go back home. I don't know what to make of this place anymore.

- Entry 8 -
I don't get food anymore.

It's been a week since I last wrote in you... Sorry, but I've been struggling ever since my things were stolen. They were the only things I had to remind me of home, so I've been depressed.

You're probably wondering about the food thing. They've stopped serving me meals, and instead set me up with a "medication" that removes the need for food from my body. Sounds superb, right?

Except it's all a lie. I'm no idiot; they should know this by now. Observation is one of my strongest abilities. I notice all the bruises in my arm and puncture marks at my wrists. They're pumping nutrients into me while I'm asleep. Or, rather, when they put me out. I can't even begin to fathom what other horrid things they're doing to me.

I'm not even believing the whole farce that this is a school anymore. I fell for it, and now they have me in their filthy lying hands. I don't hesitate to believe they'd kill me if I tried to escape or let on that I know what they're doing to me.

I need to figure out a plan, and fast.

- Entry 9 -
I've been moved.

Once again, it's been about a week since I last wrote in you, but this time it wasn't my fault. I didn't have anything to write with until just today.

They moved me to a true cell. If I thought my room was bad before, then this is Hell. No bed, no shower, no sink. The only thing I have is a bench and a toilet. The dim room itself is completely sealed off, as before, except with a heavy metal door.

They're still keeping up with their pathetic lies, too. "You won't need any food," they keep telling me. I'm feeling weaker every day, despite the nutrients they feed my body when they take me at night. My stomach is in agony.

It's taking all of my will power not to go insane. Actually, I'm surprise I'm still coherent. I guess my intellect truly is outstanding. Thankfully, it may be my savior, too.

Let me explain that reasoning. I had a strange visitor by the name of Piers come and see me today; the first person I've seen since the headmaster and a few bulky-looking guards. Piers seemed different from them all. Aqua hair and a balanced build, probably not much older than I am. He had a reasonably welcoming face. I found out he was a scientist. He had a story, like they all do, but this guy is different...

He only told me his story in front of the guards. Once we were alone in my cell together, he hit me with this:

"Kraden, I need your help saving Weyard."

He didn't tell me anything else about that. He just said that that bastard of a headmaster has been stealing you when I'm sleeping! Sleeping, put unconscious, whatever you want to call it. The point is, they've been reading all of my thoughts!

Piers is such a brilliant guy. He provided me with a special pen. Invisible ink! The only thing that reveals it is this purple flashlight he gave me. They're both small enough that I can hide them in the toilet lid, so nobody knows a thing. This entire entry will be concealed! Ha! Take that, Dodonpa!

Piers is going to return tomorrow to discuss more details. Apparently he can come and go as he pleases due to his status or rank, or something like that. It's good to have another friend...

Not that I'm about to forget you, of course.

- Entry 10 -
Good evening, Journal.

Piers explained a lot to me today. He told me that I'm not in a school (this part I had pretty much figured out myself), but instead, I'm about a thousand feet beneath the city. The facility I'm in is apparently under the Chimera Corporation's headquarters. It's where everybody who goes to the Special School ends up. Piers says he's a high profile scientist working at the company.

Let me tell you a little bit about Chimera Corp. They're the company in Weyard. They're the whole reason I got into chemistry. The company started off dealing with medicinal compounds and research, but eventually they branched out. They're so rooted into Weyard now that if Chimera Corp. went out of business, all of Weyard would be in trouble. Household chemicals, medicine, hospitals, food, appliances... Nearly everything is manufactured or managed there. For some reason, the name of the founder and CEO of Chimera Corp. was never public knowledge. Even Piers only knows him by his first name.

Alex.

For such a massive company, the name seems so simple. I must confess I'm a little disappointed.

It was always my dream to work at Chimera Corporation's research facility. I never thought I'd be imprisoned beneath it.

Piers says it's where every person who poses a potential threat to the society the government is crafting in Weyard is placed. Every person who disappeared without a trace is located in one of the many cells underneath Chimera Corporation Headquarters. Well...every person who wasn't killed, that is.

Eventually prisoners are forced into a coma, where they remain until they're needed. I asked what we might be needed for, and Piers' expression went grim.

"Testing," he said quietly.

I didn't pursue the subject any further.

Another strange thing is that Chimera Corp. is the one providing Babi with the life-extension formula. Piers didn't tell me what for, just that it's more of a bribe than anything. The company popped up thirty years ago, around the time Babi stopped aging. It's not a coincidence. I theorize that Babi funded the fledgling Chimera Corp in return for the life-extension formula. It would also explain why Chimera Corp. is so integrated into Weyard. Just what is this Alex fellow up to?

Piers hinted at it tonight. Alex is searching for something. That's all Piers would say. I think he's still a little nervous he's going to be found out.

The assistance Piers needed surprised me quite a bit. He wants my help finishing a formula. He promised me freedom if I help him, and he also told me he'd explain how I'm helping save Weyard once we get further along. I'm intrigued. He briefly went over how the formula would work, and, to be honest, it sounds difficult. I'd explain it all here, but it's so complicated and this entry is already so long... My hand is aching badly. I just had to put a lot of my thoughts down, though; I was worried I'd go crazy.

Until next time, Journal.

- Entry 11 -
It's been a while, Journal. Several weeks, I think. I've been doing enough writing. Not entries, mind you, but I have been writing in you. I've been using your back pages to visualize the formula Piers and I are creating.

He visits me once a day and we trade information. Sometimes he brings me something to eat, hiding in his pockets. A good thing, too. I think I'm going insane.

This formula is so advanced. There's so much to it... It's impossible.

Damn it. I just want to go home.

- Entry 12 -
Don't let me do this, Journal. It's too dangerous. The formula will destroy Weyard...

I don't even know what I'm doing anymore.

-Kraden

- Entry 13 -
I broke down in front of Piers the other day. It's been weeks since we've started this, and we've made very little progress. I confessed to him my doubts.

He told me how we'll save Weyard. See... Alex wants this formula. Piers and I are the only two in the entire city who could create it. Alex doesn't know about me, but he's got Piers working on it.

I asked Piers how I know I can trust him not to give the formula to Alex. Even more concerning would be if Alex gave the formula to Babi. The misuse would be too great.

Piers smiled and shook his head. He told me that Chimera Corp. and the government may be two things to the public eye, but the way Alex has things going, they're really one in the same. Governor Babi is just a figurehead, while Alex runs things behind the scenes, using his life-extension formula to bribe Babi into doing his bidding. I guess Babi is so afraid of death, he'd send Weyard to Hell just to live longer.

It was a lot to swallow, but Piers was patient and took hours to convince me of it. Even after having time to cope with the revelation, I still get shivers down my spine.

The formula we've been creating is something Alex has been desperately trying to come up with. Alex is smart, but not smart enough, so he contracted Piers with the job. Piers explained to me that he came so close to creating it without thinking about it, he almost doomed the city.

Again, shivers down my spine.

Piers still has to provide Alex with something. He has a mother and uncle that he feels would be in danger if he bowed out now after making many promises to Alex. He knows his family is constantly under surveillance.

His plan is simple. Complete the formula, but make it into four parts instead of one. Give Alex one part that for all intents and purposes will act as Alex expects at first, then once his guard is down, Piers and his family escape into hiding.

"Hiding where?" I asked him. Where is there to hide in a city like this?

He just told me he knows of a place to start. He told me I could go with him, too.

Immediately my thoughts went back to my own family. Piers must have recognized the expression on my face.

Like I said earlier, I broke down in front of my...partner, I guess I can call him. I didn't break down because of the stress.

I started sobbing like a little kid when he told me I could never see my family again.

It took me a few moments to grasp it, but I realized he's right. He told me that if I escaped and made contact with my family, they'd be in danger. I couldn't do that to them. When I gave them that hug before I left home for this place, I never thought it would be the last time I ever saw them.

I need to take a break.

- Entry 14 -
After I had my emotional moment, I asked Piers what he planned on doing with the other three parts of the formula. I had no idea how far along he planned this out.

All four parts of the true formula will have healing properties imbued in them. Piers has carefully selected a few terminally ill children to give the parts to. If we do this correctly, it will cure them.

And imbue them with the mind-boggling side-effects.

Earth, Fire, Wind, Water... I'm afraid in the coming years Weyard will know just what those words truly mean. I'd back out now, but it must be done to save their lives. Piers added the point that it would give us a hand to play against Alex in the future to finally rid Weyard of his corruptive influence. If the formula works as planned, then whoever gets it will potentially be the most powerful people on the planet. Saving their lives would put them on our side, or so goes the theory. Alex will have one, but we will have many. It's all in the numbers...

I'm afraid, Journal. I'm afraid because tonight I finally figured out the formula.

I can make it work. I've never been so scared in my life.

- Entry 15 -
We did it. It's finished.

I haven't written in you for over a month, because to you, time between writings happens in a blink of an eye. I didn't want to leave you in suspense, Journal.

The formula is done. It's finished, and in four parts.

Four parts of a whole formula. Four colors. Four elements.

I'm ashamed to admit that we've created enough to give to over a dozen people. Piers says it's okay; he'll just track down more children that need it. Always children, he says. The adults are too far gone to save. I knew what he meant by that, and it didn't have anything to do with any terminal illnesses.

Piers shocked me by administering one part of the formula to himself; the one we call Mercury. I nearly passed out when he grabbed one of the vials, pulled out a syringe, and injected himself. For a few minutes, I thought he'd been tricking me after all, and he was this Alex fellow.

I was relieved to hear him say that he didn't want to give it to the children without making sure it was safe. Truly the reasoning of a good man.

With the formula complete, Piers is going to take one of the Mercury vials to Alex. Then, he's going to come back tonight and break me out.

Journal, I'm going to get out of here. I can't wait!

- Entry 16 -
Everything went wrong, Journal.

I'm out, hiding in the city. Piers told me where the rendezvous point is, where we'll be picked up by people who can hide us. I'm there now, waiting... I'm afraid Piers may have been captured.

I assume Alex quickly figured out Piers wasn't being completely honest with him. Not even an hour after Piers handed over the Mercury vial, things went bad. Piers was walking me out of my cell when Dodonpa appeared with some guards and stopped us.

We managed to escape due to a head start. Once we got out into the city, Piers handed me half of the vials, while he took the other half. He gave me a list of names and addresses, and told me to do whatever it took to administer the formula to the names on the list.

Isaac, Garet, Ivan, Mia. One of each element for them.

Piers had three names of his own. Siblings, I think, and a girl.

I had no idea how I would get the formula inside the kids. Being the genius I am, though, it wasn't long before I came up with an idea.

Everybody knows of Chimera Corp. being a pioneer of medicine. I simply knocked on their apartment doors and told the parents I was a scientist from Chimera Corp., and I had medicine that would save their kids' lives.

Fortunately for me, the news has done such a great job of glorifying Chimera Corp. that I had no issues with the parents. They believed me so quickly; they were willing to try anything at that point, I guess.

So it's done. The kids will be saved, and me...I get to hide for the rest of my life.

Where the hell is Piers?

- Entry 17 -
Piers is definitely captured. I saw it with my own eyes... I have no idea what to do now...

Piers finished his list, too, I think. Just as he approached our rendezvous point (an alley between some apartment complexes) the agents caught up to him. I can see why people fear them...

He tried to fight them off, but they quickly subdued him. He still had some of the formulas on him, but he managed to smash them. All but one. It didn't break.

A red one. The one called Mars.

They took the formula and Piers. I couldn't believe it. I don't know what will happen to his family.

Everything is so dangerous now. The city doesn't feel like it used to now that I know some of its ugly secrets... And if Chimera Corp. has the Mars and Mercury formula, they're halfway to the true formula. The formula written on your pages...

I'm sorry Journal. I have to get rid of you; I can't keep you with me any longer. They'll search everything I have for the formula now that they know I've been working with Piers. If they find the formula on your pages, then Alex wins. He'll be able to create the remaining Venus and Jupiter formulas all over again and complete the true formula. I don't know what that entails, but it can never be good with a man like him.

This is my last entry. I've decided that when Piers' contact gets here, I'll go with them into hiding. I can't take you with me anymore...

Goodbye, Journal. You've been a true friend.

Sorry...

End: Prologue