I first woke up in the cold, unsure of how I got where I was. I wasn't at [REDACTED], I was much too far from it. Snow was as far as the eye could see. My armour was the only thing keeping me from freezing to death. I had no idea how I'd even got there, but something told me I had to keep moving... so I did. I trekked through the snow until I found a road and followed it. I would follow it until it hit a diverging path. Continuing down the main road led to a regular through tunnel, leading to what I assumed to be main civilisation. Splitting off from the road was a path worn by tire marks... a side road leading through a smaller, unlit tunnel that led up the mountain to the North. I decided it would be better to take the darker path. I travelled down the dirt path, heading yhrough the dark, darker, yet darker tunnel and up a hill that nearly took the soul out of me. As I reached the top of the mountain, I noticed the signs all around. “DO NOT ENTER” I didn’t care. My gut told me I was where I needed to be, so I pressed onwards. I made it all the way to the gate, being yelled at by men in desert camouflage all the while. They were screaming at me, pointing guns and telling me to leave. I was in a restricted area and would leave or else be shot down. I think one of them saw the patch on my pauldron, as they one by one began to lower their weapons. That was the last thing I remember before passing out.

    I woke once more in a sort of recovery room, doctors conversing around me and panicking when I came to. Judging from the patches on their uniforms, I realised they were members of the Foundation. Then the reality of the situation hit me. I was in another Site. One entirely different than my own. How I got here, I haven't a clue. As long as I was with the Foundation though, I wouldn't ask questions. They were all incredibly kind, but they started grilling me with questions. Who was I? What armour was I wearing? Where did I get that patch on my pauldron? What did I remember? Question after question after question. I started with my name, which raised alarm bells the moment I did so. Everyone looked around nervously when they heard my last name, one of the medics making a call over her radio. I didn’t understand the concern. Kyra was a family name, an old one at that. They told me not to worry about it, but what followed next was the strangest occurrence thus far. Shortly after they had made the radio call, men in black armour entered the room and had me stand up, and they immediately began frisking me, even though I was only in a hospital gown. I had no idea what the hell they were doing, but after about a solid minute of frisking they eventually were satisfied. The one with red flannel underneath his armour told the one with a purple undershirt “He’s clear. No mark.” Whatever the hell that meant. I didn’t know who they were until they turned to leave, and I got a look at the text on their backs: Last to Fall. They were Xi-8. I had only had a few brushes with them before at [REDACTED] but I never fully interacted with them before. They were more of a rare visitor there. Here though, they seemed a lot more prevalent. That made me immediately worried. From the little knowledge I had of them, I remembered that they dealt with Sarkism. The implications made me shudder, but I was once again reassured not to worry about it. The rest of the check up was fairly uneventful and standard, apart from the constant grilling and questioning by the men in black armour. I was told I would meet with ‘V’, the Site Director later on. Given my history, they recommended that I try out for General Security. I agreed. It’s all I know from [REDACTED], so it should be easy to adjust to here.

    Anyways, my training for Security starts at 0845, so I need to get some rest. I’ll write again when I get the chance to. I just needed somewhere to jot all of this shit down. This is a lot of stuff to take in.

    ~ Dak Kyra