October 5, 1870 - 3:15 am
Stripe collected me and we set off. Dogge fortified the warehouse with more men. Fifteen were posted atop the mezzanine, including Wernicke. Twenty scattered across the perimeter, which included Long and L'Escale, and around thirteen men patrolled the floor. I heard there was an additional fifteen men on the roof as well. Adam's room was dark and quiet. It did not take long for the cells to re-galvanize. In mere moments, his monitor illuminated.
"Who instructed you to whisper that prompt?" Adam snidely asked.
"My brother," I said. "When I held the sword, his spirit possessed me, and advised us to seek your guidance."
"And he referred to my name?"
"Yes..."
"What else did he say?"
"He mentioned the Templar knights. Said that we must unite them, and raise the Island of Atlas."
Stripe interrupted. "Men have parlayed an accord with the beast which dwelt in the emerald."
"A beast with green eyes," I added.
"The beast..." Adam softly repeated.
"What do you know?" Stripe ordered.
"As I understand, the prompt is in Latin. However, in my time, it was known as Igniloqui: fire speak. It was the language of—"
"The Black Arms," I finished.
"Atlantis—the Island of Atlas—was the Ixis Order's greatest achievement. The axis by which their whole kingdom spun around. It went by many names, but for Atlantians, it was called Angel Island. Until disaster... when the first Enerjak was summoned. Great Harmony was supposed to be the first step the Order would take before initiating human colonization, but it was also a means of eradication. On that fateful evening, roughly ten-thousand BC, the combined influence of Enerjak and Great Harmony plunged Atlantis into the ocean."
"Human colonization?" Dogge cried out.
"What is Great Harmony?" Stripe quickly asked.
"I cannot determine that."
"What is Enerjak?"
"I cannot determine that."
"Damn you!"
"Who inaugurated the first Enerjak?" I asked.
"The human king of Atlantis. In its final days, the kingdom was consumed and ravaged by civil war. Anything beyond this knowledge is indeterminable."
"And the beast from the emerald... was he there when it sank?"
Adam took a long pause. "If only you realized how close your species came to extermination. Maybe then you would appreciate life a little more."
"What happened, Adam?" I grew impatient
"I do not know if he was present! But it was he who summoned the second Enerjak in the Fourth Century! It was he that inducted a war beyond the scope of perception! He initiated a war that would end with the greatest of all mass extinctions! Every bit of intelligent life stricken from this universe!"
"What was it?"
"A war that brought an end to the Order's nine-billion-year reign! The Ixis Order did not simply disappear, Charles... he murdered them. He murdered all of them—everything—and spared no one."
"Murdered?" Dogge asked.
"Ultimately, the beast was defeated in Four Seventy-Four AD, by the Templar knights. The so-called Knights of Aurora. But at a great cost."
"Good lord, why have we not heard of this?" Stripe asked himself.
"There are dark forces at work, General. I do not remember much, but this period marked the first time in the history of this planet that every major world power joined together to fight the very evil these men released. My existing memory can construe the name of a woman who might help you further: Tikal."
"Impossible," I said. "Tikal is merely the ruins of an old Mayan civilization."
"I am afraid that is all I have."
"You have only answered our questions with more questions!" Dogge yelled.
"My memory is limited!"
"Then tell us about the monster!" Stripe ordered. "It knows Dr. Morgan!"
"I am afraid I cannot submit a name. My memory has been severely damaged from the crash. From what little remains, I can only portray it as a monster with a ferocious appetite. It has no morals, no compassion, and it will not stop until it achieves the Enerjak. The creature is nearly unstoppable; capable of extermination."
"Nearly unstoppable?" Stripe coyly wondered.
"Yes. What was released is only the mind of the creature; its memories, abilities, and essence. Its body, however, is elsewhere. In its current state, it can be defeated, but should it reunite with its body... in die iudicii."
"Can the sword stop it?" I asked.
"Yes, but it will not stop the Enerjak."
"I do not understand... what is this Enerjak?" Dogge barked out.
"There is insufficient data to determine the answer, but the Enerjak is not native to our universe. Whatever it is, it exists out of space and time. What scares me most, Dr. Morgan is what will happen in the future. Only an Aurora knight, or his heir, can transform the sword into a dimensional conduit. For this reason, I suspect the disaster that swallowed Atlantis and nearly annihilated your species hundreds of years ago has been activated once more. The sixth extinction has begun."
My heart raced. I felt dizzy. "I do not understand..."
"Your ancestors, Dr. Morgan, are the ones who defeated the monster! You are one of the heirs to the seven knights of Aurora! If war should occur, you must be the one to wield it in battle!"
I could not hold my wits. Dogge was kind enough to hold me up from falling. I was on the verge of tears.
"And Atlantis?" Stripe hastily asked.
"I cannot determine. However, existing memory suggests Atlantis was the home of the brotherhood of—" Then suddenly he yelled, "Duck for cover!"
A shot was fired. I felt its squall graze my cheek. The bullet struck Adam's monitor, shattering the glass, and blowing him back into a violent frenzy of electrical discharge. It was meant for me. Standing behind us in a dark robe, lowering his pistol, was the attacker. Stripe gave the order, and all the guns were drawn and fired. I ordered Dogge to recover Adam while I engaged.
The attacker fled into the maze of worktables, ship parts, and rigging. We tried to keep up, but the attacker was erratic. Gunfire erupted from the mezzanine; we ran the danger of being struck by any number of stray bullets, but we finally took refuge beneath the mezzanine floor. Wernicke was positioned well to intercept the attacker, but he fired at him, and a bullet pierced his forearm, rendering him immobile. Then the attacker turned to me and fired at a nearby Ruhmkorff lamp, which blew up in a blinding flash. Wernicke was okay. The attacker hid behind a workbench.
"Come about!" Stripe yelled.
Everyone was running high. I could hear rifles clamoring together. Stripe ordered a ceasefire. I pulled the gun from my waistcoat.
"Surrender now, or prepare to be shot down!" I yelled, but my voice lacked influence.
Then the assailant spoke to us in a slithery lisp. "His vile vision of the future will not be postponed by petty subordinates like you!"
I knew that voice... I heard it before! I foolishly lowered my gun. I stepped into the battlefield, arms held high, and without protection. Stripe was screaming at me to fall back, but I hoped to console the young attacker.
"I want this bloodshed to cease," I said.
Stripe was screaming, but I could not hear him.
"Listen," I continued. "I know there is a shred of decency in you. Please, I can help. We can all help you. Just let me—"
The attacker spun around and aimed his weapon at my head.
"All hail his empire," he hissed.
I closed my eyes, ready to accept my fate. The bullet fired. Its blast was terrible and piercing, but I did not feel the entry. Instead, I felt hands coupling my shoulders, and a body collapsing atop me. It was Stripe. Bullets hailed down from the mezzanine, and I fell to the floor with Stripe. Everything was so quiet and slow.
The attacker drew the emerald out from his robes, and shouted, "Chaos imperium!"
A purple sphere of fire flashed across the floor, and then a radiant burst of golden halos expelled into the air. Our attacker was gone, and the emerald lay unscathed on the floor.
"Colonel!" Stripe yelled, helping me up. "Send for General D'Coolette immediately. We will need all the help we can in apprehending Mr. Braxton and his associates." Stripe then yelled at me. "Charles, what is god's name were you thinking? You could have been killed!"
I stammered around for a while. "Something is wrong, dreadfully wrong. Dogge was right; I overlooked something that was right in front of me." I concealed the gun. "Stay here, please, until Armand arrives, and however long you can, do not let anyone in the warehouse!"
I began running back to my tenement.
"Where are you going?" Stripe called out.
"I have to see Julian! His life is in danger!"
The night was thick and foggy. I could neither see the moonlight nor the street lamps through the haze. I arrived home and hurried to my desk. I tore open the envelope that contained the patent for my invention and was staggered in horror by what I discovered. The documents inside were forged. A counterfeit! A near-perfect imitation. I noticed it immediately. Though my handwriting was replicated faultlessly, the original paper on which my invention was printed carried a watermark at the center. This paper, which I am fiercely gripping right now, bears no such watermark. Colin betrayed me.
I then took immediate haste in arriving at Julian's home. He resided on the top floor of a tenement. I neared his door, but before I knocked, I noticed it was already open. I slowly peered inside. His home was ransacked. Books and house-ware scattered everywhere; furniture was overturned and ripped up, and all the drawers and cabinets emptied.
My heart was thumped hard and abrasively. Cold sweat ran down my head, and my stomach felt like it was sinking into itself. I collapsed into Julian's office chair, crying, and cursing my gullibility. The drive to surrender was such that I wrote this entry as my last testament before exiling across seas. However, I feel a presence with me. It brushed my shoulders and neck like cold feathers. I do not believe it is a spirit, nor do I suspect it is insidious. Whatever it might be, I feel encouraged to seize the destiny laid before me. The curtains are now fluttering. Something embraces me. I am on the verge of transformation, and something far more exceptional has enlightened me.
3:18 pm
I do not know what to say. I am not even sure how to begin this final entry. The tragedy that has befallen us has left me grief-stricken, appalled, and dismally betrayed. Though, I will try my hardest to author this record.
I was holed up in Julian's apartment for some time, refusing to confront the callous world of which I thought so bitterly towards. Frozen with fear, and devastated by sorrow and treachery. Then around five, the front door opened, startling me out of my stupor, and Stripe—Thomas gently ambled in.
"Charles, where in god's name have you been?" He then saw the condition of the tenement. "What happened?"
"Deception, old friend. Nefarious trickery. I hate myself for not heeding your concerns out of some misplaced sentiment of trust. You and Dogge were right. Colin is the spy we were looking for, and it seems he has already been here."
"Then I shall start a—"
"My invention, Thomas—that monstrous contraption—I inadvertently forfeited it into the hands of our enemy. I betrayed our function! I betrayed Jules!"
I was so crushed. Stripe was aware of the danger my invention possessed, but his expression conveyed that he had known the severity of my faults. I could not face him. My eyes held onto a pen that somehow remained perfectly aligned with a book on Julian's desk.
"Look here, Charles; what has been done cannot be undone. I will not fault you for being led astray. We all were! And we are all humans, not machines. But I need you, Charles. I need you to help me"
"I am a coward, Thomas. I cannot face the damage I have caused. I will not have another catastrophe on my conscience!"
"I understand your animosity towards the past—I really do—but to live and breathe there would only destroy you further. From the way I see it, you either wallow in your past or learn from it. Live and learn. I would wager that Copernicus, da Vinci, or Jules would agree with me, no? There is a chance at salvation, but you must take action, my friend."
I finally looked up at him. The redemption I yearned so greatly for was not in the security of my hideous invention, but in protecting the public from the clutches of tyranny. Or so I thought. Regardless, I found my courage and left with Stripe.
The morning was cool and gusty, and the sun was fully exposed. I climbed into the cab and explained that we would not make it to the warehouse on time.
"Not to worry!" Stripe assured me.
He pounded on the roof of the carriage.
Just then, the driver—Antoine—swung down and said, "Hang onto something! We are making tracks!"
"Christ, man, it's Armand's boy!" I yelled.
Stripe smiled. "So it is. Long story, Charles. Remind me to tell you one day!"
We were off. The boy steered us through the muddle of empty streets and alleyways. Stripe and I tumbled at every sharp turn and sudden stop, especially when the boy decided to mount the cobblestone curb and take us across a park. I admit it was rather exciting. None of us knew, at the time, that fate was not on our side that morning.
When we pulled into the warehouse, the scene was very chaotic. Everyone was there: Dogge, Julian, the committee, Eli Braxton, Wernicke, von Schlemmer, Philby, Armand, and around thirty or so men. They were all arguing with each other. Long and L'Escale were at the doors, and Armand stepped in to mediate tensions.
"One at a time!" Armand yelled.
Stripe had stepped out of the carriage. "We suspect Mr. Braxton, along with several others, of conspiring against the public, conspiring against the United States, weapons tampering, plotting the attempted assassinations of myself and Dr. Morgan, and high crimes of the state!"
His voice boomed, but no one took it seriously. The committee glared at the astute general as if he relayed a repugnant joke. Even Armand was put off by his allegations.
"What?" Eli replied. "Sir, I am a revered member of this society!"
"Who associates with Confederate sympathizers!"
"Snooping in my office, are we? I can have you expelled!"
"This is absurd, Thomas!" the committee supervisor, Roger Clayton, spoke up. "What proof do you have of these crimes?"
"Our own testimonies!"
"Julian, do you believe any of this?" Clayton asked.
"Every word of it," he nodded. "That man is a monster!"
Braxton looked as though he was betrayed by Julian.
"He is too smart to conceal any proof in his quarters, but I suggest, instead, you obtain a search warrant for the office of his co-conspirator, Colin Day!" I stood up and announced.
The committee blew up with boisterous criticism. My heart sank.
"Colin Day?" Julian asked me.
I nodded. "He was our spy."
"This is ludicrous!" Clayton dismissed. "How dare you condemn an innocent man! Lay down your weapons, Armand! He pushed his way through the men towards the doors. "By the end of the day, Thomas, your entire company will be prosecuted for these appalling accusations, and rightfully expelled from your duty! As for you, Julian, you and Dr. Morgan are permanently dismissed from Solaris!"
"I will not let this stand!" Stripe wailed. He grabbed his pistol, cocked it back, and aimed it at Braxton! "We are dealing with monsters! This ends to-day!"
"Thomas," I yelled. "Stop! It is no use! Stop!"
Then it happened. I first heard a sharp hiss, and then a faint boom. The ground shook. Everyone looked down, but never around. I veered up to Stripe one final time. The explosion tore through the laboratory like toy blocks, killing everyone inside, and throwing all of us into the air. A column of ash belched skyward, and fire consumed all our research and equipment. In a flash, everything was gone. I was on the ground, beneath a splintered piece of the carriage. I could see Armand dragging his boy out of the burning cab. Ghostly figures caked in cinder powder ambled around me into a macabre funeral procession. Then I was dragged out of my would-be grave.
Twenty-seven enlisted men were killed; along with fourteen workers, three project managers, the entire committee, Dr. Clayton, Dr. Philby, and Julian. I know this as a fact because I recovered his body from the wreckage. Soon, the fire brigade came. Armand helped them drag corpses from the inferno.
The catastrophe drew significant public attention and outcry. Amid the shower of burning paper and rubble, Stripe condemned the reporters for their unscrupulous meddling. The fire brigade eventually doused the flames, and the authorities closed the streets. Strange... as the day brightened, the smoke cast a shadow over us which grew darker and darker. The explosion left a mighty crater behind.
I walked through the rubble heaps and twisted framework to find survivors. Amazingly, the weapons were undamaged. Even the craft remained unscathed by the angry fire. However, the siphon was terminally damaged. The vault containing the gold rings was also blown open. All of them were gone. And Adam—he was unrecognizable.
The public was quick to cast judgment on us. We were accused of criminal subterfuge and the production of unstable weapons. Fifty-five men were killed in total. When he heard what had happened, Colfax ordered a full investigation into the explosion. Emmett pulled himself together and concocted a lie to placate the outcry. Indeed, we were in the wrong, and we will take responsibility, but the explosion came from ill-packaged chemical explosives used by the War Department.
Morning turned to mid-day. Upon exhuming the final body, I was unnerved that Mr. Braxton had disappeared. For that matter, Colin was not with us. A dispatch was sent to retrieve him at his apartment, but he was gone. I pondered briefly and concluded amongst myself that Colin was responsible for the detonation. Perhaps in an attempt to usurp Mr. Braxton's position. Perhaps Colin was acting on the wishes of the Razor-Claw or Ivo K., or perhaps the monster.
Stripe is pressing Colfax and the US Marshal into a full-scale manhunt for Colin and the others on Braxton's list. Moreover, Colfax's advisers are no longer keen on having the project so close to Washington, as it possess a considerable threat to the presidency. Thus, a facility has been ordered out west in San Francisco. Emmett has been promoted to the project supervisor, and I have been formally dismissed. Now I must submit this diary as evidence.
Now as I sit here overlooking the horde of reproachful bystanders and smoke curls, I can only detest and lament my actions. Like so many young men who stood before me, I was only curious as to the wonders that lay hidden beyond our world. Pandora's box proved to be a vast, infinite void that none of us were prepared for. I only wished that our society would prosper from that fallen revelation. Certainly, it is not uncommon for us to be inspired by curiosity, but such feelings can yield dire effects. I have seen the madness curiosity can provoke. But do we deny that which makes us human?
My greatest sin, that which will inevitably destroy me, is my unbound thirst for knowledge. In these final words, I bestow the truth in hopes I might atone for my misdeeds. Like Faust, I sacrificed my spirit for this impermissible knowledge. I can only hope that you, whoever may read this, might not condemn me so soon.
Farewell, my dear diary. Farewell for now.