Journal 12 - Day 10 in Beaumont Pt. 1

(Written in the Queens French)
I know my words are right.
I know there was nothing we could’ve done.
I know what I told Jaxion was true — that finding a little joy in the face of doom is not foolishness, but strength and sanity.
 
And yet… I still feel the guilt tattooed across his face. Stabbing at my heart.
 
The victory I once felt so certain of now feels hollow—annihilated. The Deremitru stole the win we thought we’d earned. They claimed millions of lives across Beaumont, turning cities into graves. Whole cities—filled with delicate, irreplaceable lives—gone.
 
These people may not be mine, but I cannot stand idle while hearts are silenced. My conviction has been reborn—fierce and unyielding.
 
Aunt Rishi, I pray you guide the souls of Beaumont’s senselessly slain with a gentle hand.
To my gods, please bring peace to these people. Let our message take root—planting seeds of Hope and endurance.
 
~~~
 
Sleep was no one’s friend.
We’ve all been glued to the constant stream of news about the attacks and the scattered relief efforts. Continental shores, borders, even neighborhoods—everything shutting down. The BRN has stepped forward to “manage” the crisis, and though they pretend to be saviors, it all feels far too convenient.
 
Through the haze of destruction, my group stands firm. Bantering, theorizing—reminding each other that unity is our lifeline. When minds join, truth follows.
 
We can’t undo what was stolen, but we can help those left lost in the wake.
 
Through every conversation, our purpose sharpens.
We’ve chosen to become an anonymous shadow corporation.
 
We, are Sanctuary Inc.
 
~~~
 
Now these zealous criminals have the gall to hijack communications? Their message overtook the airwaves—poison dressed as prophecy. They preach that we live on borrowed time, that the world belongs to them, that the end is written. As if they could ever touch the will of the gods.
 
Their arrogance is nauseating… and it’s the spark we needed.
 
Sanctuary Inc. will move. Tonight.
We will fight with truth and restore Hope to the hearts that remain. We will teach people to think, to question, to defy the voices that would see them broken.
 
The Deremitru had better say their final prayers.
To threaten in my goddess’s name—to twist the divine into cruelty—is unforgivable.
They will rue the moment they took lives that were never theirs to claim.
 
These sick fucks will be stopped.
I swear it.
They’ve awoken my wolf.
 
~~~
 
I keep trying to write the words for our broadcast, but my mind won't stop replaying the words that inspired it:
 
“We are the Deremitru. Destined by the gods of old. Ordained to stop time… and end all life alongside it.”
 
Ordained to stop time...
Blink would never allow that. Not by anyone but her own hands.
 
She allowed them to flee the fires—is that not enough proof she's not a monster? Do they revere her, or resent her? Is their true goal to leave the masses broken, suppressed, and dying so they have free reign to plot the murder of Time herself? The thought both haunts and infuriates me. If that’s their intent, then I’ll let that fury fuel my words when I speak—to shake Beaumont back into the fight.
 
~~~
 
And amidst all this chaos, a spark of good news.
Little Bug and her big brain have done it again.
 
Leave it to Xhoya to reach Z3RO himself.
 
If he isn’t impressed, I will be enough for all of us! I can’t give her a normal childhood, but maybe I can give her pieces of it—moments of discovery, laughter, something to remind her she’s still young.
 
Her boldness paid off. A beautiful and rare moment, I should remind her of often. Z3RO rewarded her and gave us new instructions: wait for Nightshade in two days’ time. Then, with a sweep of their strange magic, they erased the house from existence.
 
It reminded me of Ildris’ magic—eerily similar. Confirmed from his own mouth. My conspiracy board grows by the hour. Could Z3RO have a cube? Could they be a Keeper? I will, find that thread’s end.
 
And Ildris… stars above. He managed to learn the spell himself, cloaking not just the house but our vehicles, our tech, and even us. We’ve vanished—perfectly hidden, like ghosts.
 
Now Sanctuary Inc. can post anonymously, countering every blasphemous word the Deremitru spew.
 
Thank you, gods, for sending one of your best.
 
Little Bug’s brilliant move gave us new direction.
We’re waiting for Nightshade—whoever, or whatever, that may be. I could tell he saw our potential, even if he’d rather not admit it. Following the thread to the Ash Site will reveal far more, I’m sure.
 
Even that brief encounter with Z3RO was enough to intrigue me further. The house is erased from existence, but not reality—what a paradox. And Ildris… ugh, Ildris. He not only understood the spell, but refined it. If it can be hidden, he’ll find a way to make it vanish. He’s… something.
 
I must focus. I can’t let poor Lux shoulder the broadcast alone. Back to work.
 
~~~
 
I remain poised, resolute, and devoted to my duty.
But Blink—
I’m terrified.
 
Terrified that my passion won’t be enough. That my leadership will falter. That I’ll fail three nations—mine included.
 
Is this how you feel, watching us—your volatile, impossible creations?
 
If so, then perhaps that’s the key. To take the pain I feel and wield it as you do—to turn it into resolution for those who follow.
 
Later tonight, I’ll speak to the remnants of Beaumont as the voice of Sanctuary Inc.
 
May my words be yours, Blink.
May my resolve steady their hearts.
And please—help me make this team proud to stand beside me.
 
Long live, and thrive, Sanctuary Inc.
 
I need a moment to breathe, to clear my mind.
Maybe… I’ll be selfish, and ask Ildris for a moment of his time.