Well now we have reached an impasse.

I have another 9 days to complete this story, and I have done an incredibly poor job in curating the entries I have access to. I was hoping to have some sort of satisfactory conclusion, and I will have to resort to summary and editorialization.

Wasting today surely will not help matters. But at the very least, I can offer an introduction.

I am one of the… gods spoken of earlier on. As far as I’m aware, I am the only one to survive the destruction of the world. I do not know how I have made it to your world, only that I did.

My purpose in my world was to chronicle everything that occurred. To be a source of all information. To observe. You may choose a name that fits with that, as my true name does not matter. I would suggest the Chronicle or, if you prefer something a bit more human, the Sage.

Although it has taken twenty years, I can no longer deny the fact that I am, for most intents, fully human. I will likely die sometime in the next few decades, and the memory of my world will cease to exist.

I cannot allow that to happen.

That is why I intended to write this story. I am a poor storyteller, however – I find the intricacies of character and drama to elude me. This is why I wanted to allow the people from my world to tell their own stories, to use their own words to describe the events that I only watched.

This is the story of the birth of my sister – the Judge. She is not the same Judge described in Sparrow’s journal, but she is also not not the same Judge. It is a complicated mess which I hope to clear in the finished draft of this manuscript.

So, please, bear with me for just another week. Perhaps I can shed light where half-told truths and ignorant narrators could not. Perhaps I can give more context and a clearer picture.

If I cannot, then I have failed. And I must start anew.