It has been one week since Dr. Witshire passed from this Earthly coil. I do not have any answers outside of what this journal provides me and this ring that turns into my blade. Emotionally, my past has come back to haunt me. I learned that my ring amplifies what I feel and I have become the thing I have hated my entire life. Sought against and fought against. I have become angry. The proverbial bottle of emotions I have clung to for more than half of my life is begging to overflow with emotions that I have bottled away. I am angry at everything. This world, the things in it, the people in it. I am raging against a dying light that is known as my life which has come to my attention as now infinite due to this ring. I cannot die. I cannot obtain the peace I began to seek that faithful night one week ago. And I am now using my rage as an instrument because of it. I grant people the peace I seek with Shadowplay and as I pen these horrid words over parchment that is soaked in the blood of a man I barely knew, I am reminded of something. It is my birthday.

Happy Birthday, Lucas.