Nice to meet you, Daydria! As an active member of the (unofficial) welcoming committee* as well as the head of the Necromancy Club, I'd be happy to show you around the school and possibly even help you with communicating with spirits! ... If you'd let me, of course.

I also have a personal interest in researching the many varieties of... well, you called it void, so I'd assume it was a void-type /pocket dimension/. There are several within the school, but they're all man-made (apologies for the non-inclusive language, I'm a strong advocate for nonhuman & metaphysical rights) and relatively uniform. Perhaps you could help me out here...?



* The official, school-supported group is highly suspicious and currently under investigation. Do not accept any gifts from them, especially if they smell like coriander.

Wait... Do I remember you? You pay attention to me, unlike everybody else. You read my notes with such dedication that it sends shivers down my spine. I'm sure you know me, but I don't think I know you.

Did I know you before it happened? What were we? Who were you? Who was I? Where did it all go wrong?

I didn't just forget you. I forgot myself. You were part of me, once. Now I'm missing that part. It's drained me, you know; I'm hollow inside. They try their best to fill in the gaps, but there are some things that even God cannot fix.

It was not a failure; I know that much. Even so, the process took more out of me than it was meant to. I'm sure you tried to warn me, but of course, I didn't worry. What a fool I've been. I knew exactly what I was dealing with, but I got cocky regardless. On the TRUE grandest scale, that which reaches far, far into the cosmos and perhaps even beyond, mistakes are not forgiven on the basis of age. Mortals are not meant to hear the words They whisper, much less act upon them. We are less than pawns; we are the board beneath the pieces- no, we're specks of dust upon the board, carelessly brushed away, discarded without a second thought.

Comparatively, we are nothing. But I have reason to believe you were my everything.

...

Sister?

Don't worry! Most of us don't know either. Some of us remember, some of us were knocked unconscious, some of us ceased to exist. I have some memories of it, but... I can't be sure if they're real or not. See, that's why it's the *reality* incident.

Amongst the graves, a merchant wanders. What They clutch at is not the coins in his pockets but the heart which beats in his chest... No matter how much wealth he scatters across the grass, his sins will catch up with him eventually, curses sailing through poison air...



... Hmm. Perhaps I should look into scrying.

I am temporarily resigning from my position as Necromancy Club leader. Only temporarily. TEMPORARILY, okay? The crabs really hate me, and someone else has to take care of them. I'm just going to take a break until then.

God.

Certainly. It is also possible that you do not exist at all for us, and/or we do not exist for you. There are... infinitely more possibilities. I don't have time to explain them all. The crabs are getting violent and I think they've fashioned blowdarts from the corpses of their fallen brethren.

Oh, would you look at that. I've been shot. Smells like... ketamine, I believe? Whatever it is, I'm feeling rather fai

It's entirely possible that you could be observing us from an alternate reality. The 'game' part does not apply, however. This isn't much of a game to me. Games are supposed to be fun, and I keep getting stabbed by rioting crustaceans, which is not fun.

I think I've been spending too much time around that damn crab machine. It keeps clicking at me and I'm starting to understand what it's saying. It is NOT saying good things.

Alright. Finally out of the infirmary, so it's back to club duties for me. I still feel like writing about Oro Mar and the crab gods. Perhaps it's a sign...

I've felt something brewing within the seas.

Alright, well, I'm confined to the infirmary for a few days, so I might as well make the most of it and write down what I've been thinking recently. I wrote something in my *personal, physical* journal about the war between the twin crab gods and the aspect of the sphere, the maiden queen Oro Mar. The primal seas are deep and complex...