He's unable to
do anything now. He's in the medical bay of our ship and it look's like
he'll be going back to Earth quite soon. He's heading for a breakdown by
the looks of it. I can understand why it's happening to him. It's no
good trying not to think about what it is you're doing. It's impossible
to distance yourself from something on this scale. I'm dreading the when
the nightmares start - and they will.
Just by being
here, we are all living on a knife-edge. We just don't know what will
happen next. They'll come back for some reason. They may well use
Craile's World for target practice. The shadow of their possible return
looms over us everyday; they've probably gone to raise more settlements
to the ground and there is nothing us humans can do about the situation.
No one can match them in numbers or technology: they are simply too
powerful to be defeated.
Perhaps though,
someone or something will come up with a weapon that can be used against
them. After all, everything and everybody must have some sort of
weakness. We need a saviour, as I can't see anyway for us to be able to
destroy them alone.
Everything looks
exactly very much the same now. There is no colour or distinctive
shapes left here any longer, just burnt, black rubble, ash, limbs and
bones.
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