Entry number: Who cares, really? The number doesn’t matter. All I know is that I’ll keep on telling this story until it’s over. The Bastion, our floating mass in a sea of emptiness and floating masses, will keep us safe as long as it can. Or rather, it shouldn’t endure more than it already has.
A kid’s bizarre voyage is coming to a conclusion. Soon we’ll know the end of it. Or, well, I hope so. That’s if he comes back. But… until then, I would say it’s time to go over what happened. A proper story’s supposed to start at the beginning. My name’s Rucks. I’m a Caelondian – not that it matters, Caelondia is in tatters. I could say I was a Caelondian. I woke up one day to see our world had been reduced to bits and pieces idling in a great nothing. The Calamity had happened.
|You'd think the destruction of the world would have|
awoken him. And yet, nope.
|I always thought rolling on the ground was impractical.|
But if it makes the Kid faster...