My name is Magnus Cray. I suspect that this diary will prove to be my final testament. They’re closing in on me. I can feel it.
Right now, the entire civilized world is locked down, ostensibly due to a viral pandemic. The truth, however, is far more horrific than anything the news is saying or anything that the people fear.
I tried to fight it. I’ll continue fighting it. Failure, however, is a foregone conclusion. So be it. I knew the price I’d pay for my resistance. I have no regrets.
But fear is a thing of the flesh. It’s in the nerves. Even if I have mentally and spiritually accepted my fate, my base animal brain has not. So it is that I tremble as I write these words.
The sun is rising. My balcony is empty now of the thing I heard out there last night, stalking me.
But with the setting sun, it will come again.
Know that I tried, even if my efforts were in vain. I tried to wake you all up to what was coming.
Part of me resents you all for remaining so blind, but the larger part of me feels only sympathy. It wasn’t your weakness that led us here. No, it was the strength of the machine.
What’s done is done now, anyway. Things could never have turned out any way other than the way in which they have.
In the end, I’m just a man.
I’ve gotten a longer peek behind the Curtain than most people. I’ve even pulled the strings of the world in my day. I’ve known pleasures and depravities (is there a difference?) that few other than kings have known. I stood alone against the Leviathan and, for the time being, anyway, lived to tell about it.
Yet, for all that, I’m just a man.
So be it. Let me be just a man telling his story in the shadow of Leviathan.
Same as all of you.