And so there ends the only tale that I have from his pen. This is the only edition that I have found in all of the articles that Natash kept in his small room. The last segment, which is brief and unfinished and ending ominously with “THEY ARE HERE” is of great import to my very soul, for if it was the Messenger Sakoz, then one might say that there is a bit of a problem… For, as you know, great lord, the angelic blade is one of the only real ways to dispatch one of our kind, but in order to do so, you need special permissions…

As I understand it, and correct me if I am mistaken, you need a very specific form (or scroll as their kind calls them), and it has to be filled out very precisely. But that is indeed the wrench in the works. If Natash is a free spirit and a soul with a will of his own, then how did the permission get written? Inside each form is an exact time and place, and situation that must occur, in order for the dispatch to take place. Literally the year, season, moon cycle, and where the sun is all need to be mentioned specifically, or the form is invalid. That’s precision, and that’s horrifying. This startling accuracy in his execution, nay, assassination, is unequivocal to me.

And it leads me down a philosophical journey, so to speak. I have to begin with the premise that Natash was assigned to be dispatched. So then all of the things that led him to the exact moment of his demise would have had to have been seen aforehand by some all-knowing force.

There is only one explanation: He himself must have seen to it that Natash be eliminated. There is no other logical way to provide answers for this scheme. Unless the Book of Knowledge had it listed as an “inevitable”, then I cannot fathom any other way for the scroll (form) to have been activated.

This is gravely terrifying. It sets me to wonder about my own future. Are we all to be vanquished just as easily?

I pray this letter and the accompanying sets of notes have met your grace with the approval that I deemed it would seek, and I pray that the knowledge, nay, wisdom found herein would be a boon to you on this, the blessed day of our Satan.

 

With warm regards, Valparaiso of the Americas