In light of the recent dire situation that has unfolded before us, I find myself compelled to write this section. This was never intended to be part of this logbook, but circumstances have forced my hand. The very thing we feared the most—what we tried so hard to avoid—has become a bitter reality, driven by the insatiable greed and lust for power that plagues humanity.
I had hoped this logbook would remain a pure record of scientific achievement, a testament to what we could accomplish when minds came together to push the boundaries of human potential. But now, as the reality of our situation sets in, I realise that I cannot remain silent. I must document this final chapter, not as an extension of our previous work, but as a warning to those who may one day come across it.
The Templars, once our benefactors and protectors, have revealed their true intent. They seek to weaponize the Omnitrix. What was meant to be a beacon of human progress, a tool for unlocking the mysteries of evolution, has become a coveted prize for those who would turn it into an instrument of war and domination. It is a betrayal of everything we stood for, everything we hoped to achieve.
In the span of days, perhaps even hours, we found ourselves on the run. My team—brilliant minds who devoted their lives to this project—are now fugitives, hunted by the very organisation we trusted. We had no choice but to steal the Omnitrix, knowing that if it remained in their hands, they would twist its purpose into something monstrous. This was not a decision we made lightly. It was, in fact, the most difficult choice of our lives.
I write this now from the shadows, in hiding, unsure of how much time we have before they find us. As I write, the Omnitrix rests on a table beside me, silent and dormant. But I know that as long as it exists, there will be those who seek its power. It is a weight I cannot bear to pass on to the future unguarded.
This is why I have made one final alteration. I have encoded my DNA into the Omnitrix's core—a safeguard to prevent anyone but myself from accessing its full capabilities. It was not an easy decision, but it was necessary. I cannot trust the world, or even the next generation of scientists, to handle this responsibility. The Omnitrix is too dangerous in the wrong hands, and now, with the Templars pursuing us, it is a danger I must mitigate in whatever way I can.
This section was never meant to exist. The logbook was supposed to be a chronicle of triumph, of scientific progress and the boundless potential of the human spirit. But now, it serves a different purpose—a record of the consequences of ambition unchecked by morality. I can only hope that, in the end, this logbook will not be the final chapter of the Omnitrix's story. Rather, it will be a warning to those who come after us: the cost of knowledge is not just the discovery itself, but the responsibility that comes with wielding it.
Carl Tennyson
Project Lead, Project: Azmuth