Captain’s Log, Ship’s Day 8251

We did it. We finally did it. We killed Tertius.

We busted into the cafeteria at about 0300 hours, using various pieces of pipes and paneling as makeshift shields and weapons. Tertius was a fair bit surprised, actually. The look on his face as he saw fifty armed men coming at him was priceless. There was a battle, and Tertius tried to hit below the belt. I almost received a scar much like my mother must have gotten when she got C-sectioned to give birth to me. That incensed me enough to personally bash his head in. (The stain, incidentally, looks a little like Elvis.)

While I am ecstatic to say that Tertius was a casualty, I sadly can’t say he was the only one. Franklin Seward, Jr., was killed in the fight. He’s—he was—only sixteen…

He died with his cuts on his front. He died trying to take down the Archbishop, not trying to run from him. I’ve given the body over to his father before we send it to be reclaimed.

May you be the last blood from this travesty, Frankie.