The journal ended abruptly. That was the last entry in the journal. The rest of the pages were blank. But, when flipping through the pages, a small, mechanical device fell out that resembled a recording device. A small lens was on one side, designed to record what it saw. On another side were two buttons. Pressing the red one would allow one to record whatever could be seen, and heard. The other would play back everything ever recorded. . .

--

I could feel my breath coming out in short, raspy breaths. The Mutants had chased me for a day and a half, at the very least, pushing me to my limit. They had launched a surprise invasion on us, capturing nearly all of us. Some had either escaped, per perished.

As I stopped to take a short break, I realized that I had been chased all the way to the Queen's Tower. That long, slim, white tower. . . It was like a beautiful creature surrounded by ugly. I could see the smaller towers nearby, but they only paled in comparison to the magnificent tower that stood in front of me. My friends were in this wretched place.

I was going to have to enter this place and free them before it was too late.

Looking around, I found a slight opening in the side of one of the smaller towers nearby. I ran over to it and did a thorough check of my surroundings and the opening before I quickly slipped in. Luckily, no alarms went off as I stood in this familiar place. It smelled of blood and fur. . .

I decided to follow the strongest scent of blood, in hopes of finding someone. In case I found a Mutant, I would fight them, make them tell me where my friends were, and somehow silent it. Maybe that was too much work, so I just decided to hope for the best.

The scent took me down many halls and corriders, and I almost lost the scent numerous times. Eventually, it led me to a thick, wooden door. I could hear sounds behind it that made me shudder slightly.

I decided to test the door to see if it was locked. It wasn't, so I opened the door. If I wasn't used to seeing such sights, I would've screamed so much I'd have made myself mute or something. Instead, I just bit my hand hard enough that it started bleeding. I kept this up until I knew I wouldn't start screaming.

Inside the room that I just opened were cages. Cages full of Mutants, screaming, howling, pulling at the cage bars, and some that had Mutants on the floors of their cages, unmoving. I didn't want to think about whether they were asleep or not. Some very few cages that were members of the Resistance, unmoving with a single need sticking out of their arms. The ones that had resisted, most likely, only to die.

Walking up to one of the non-Mutant cages, I saw it was a cat I didn't recognize. Or maybe I did, it was so hard to remember now. His body was resting on the floor of the cage, with a mask of pain and horror still on his face. The poor thing. At least he died as who he was, and didn't live as what was hated by most.

A small sound caught my attention at that moment. It was a moan of pain, and yet, something else as well. I followed the sound to one of the nearby cages. My breath stopped as soon as I looked into those familiar, sad, Mutant eyes.

Wolfgang.