((Kyrie continued to sit in the back of my head, thinking, so to get her out until next time I play her I had to let her write some more. The place where the group is resting now, is deep down in a spire on Agrippina. The former high-ranking tech-priest from Mars, commonly referred to as grandpa, has built several barracks out of old machines and vehicles. The biggest is where he lives and keeps his things, and in one he grows vegetables. Kyrie is sitting on top of one they live in, back against some steel outcrop. As usual, no one takes notice of her writing.))

--:begin new entry:--

I'm sitting on the roof of one of gramp's many barracks, 'mask on of course, looking out over the aeon-old waste. There is no sun here, not even a gloom. Occasional lights are only where they are because gramps put them there to light the way, or because a hole somewhere let's light in from Emperor knows where. There's no sky. That's one thing I give my home - you could always see the sky. Well, maybe not in the 'pyramids, but out in the scrap and the 'sprawls. I really miss the sky and whatever light there may be outside.

Stell's gone up to distract the Inquisition again, Eli's training his newborn powers, Imbra keeps out of his way as if were he already possessed, and Markus, well, I suppose he's resting. The infernal little grott, Nibblit, shoots at every shadow with his miniature catapult slingshot. I look. I should be training but right now I don't feel like it at all. Corax is probably training, too, with that sword Stell more or less threw at him, in that Librarian-dubbing ceremony so unceremonius Markus the priest almost choked. Heh.

I took a look at my body yesterday. Fresh scars are abundant. My legs, mostly the right one, looks like they're littered with stars. My upper body has quite an interesting look, with the small and bigger circles acquired recently overlapping older ones. And those very first I got. My arms are in slightly better condition, no new ones at least. That one from the machine/servitor-thing gone haywire on my left still looks like a someone smiling. Nothing to brag about, really, my scars. Eli, on the other hand, could probably match someone hit by my cherries too many times, combined with some sword-whipping of Imbra's. I still look good, though, in my own opinion. Someone said, in that other life I once lived, that girl's ought to get more scars so that you could try to kiss them all. I find the notion laughable. He was kind of a romantic, the world does apparently not need that for I hear he got killed some years ago.

God Emperor. What the furk is wrong with me?

"Dominus Deus, exaudi nos et misrere, exaudi Dominus." Lord God, hear us, the wretched, hear us, lord. I hum an old prayer. Yes, us wretched ones...

This boredom is killing me, as is the growing certainty that we've lost the lady to the Grey Knights - about which I still know nothing. A name I have never heard before, but which seems to get everyone's utmost respect - everyone who seem to be in the know, at least.

Stell took me aside the other day, and explained why there're people snooping around for us. And about that memory slab. 15000 years ago, someone found a solar system. But during the big kapoof it was forgotten and so was its contents. 600 years ago it was rediscovered, but again lost. He needs some coordinates but not to know them. Or something. When he asked me what more I wanted to know, I hesitated for only one split second. Then I answered that is was best I know no more. Just some months ago I would've asked until my head was void of questions. Now?

I have changed, as I said. Maybe it is for the better, for those around me. I still believe as fiercely as before, I still fight with the same spirit.

Emperor guide my soul.

Think that'll be it for now.