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Dear Mom, we're holed up in an old church now. The bells still ring every hour, though nobody's touched them in weeks. Anderson got hit yesterday - he'll make it, but they're sending him home. The nights are the worst. The waiting. Always the waiting.

Can't believe what I'm seeing here, brother. Three days without food, walking through this mess. Then boom, there's supplies. Never thought I'd find anything. This place, it's different now. Everything's changed, but we're still here, still surviving.

Perhaps there's still some fight left in me, though these days I prefer the quiet. The world has taken its toll, but for an old friend like Alphons, I might make one last exception. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

The mist began to swirl unnaturally, forming twisted shapes in the darkness. A low rumble echoed through the valley, and the warriors gripped their weapons tighter. Without warning, gleaming red eyes pierced through the fog, followed by an ear-splitting screech.

Netflix magic box that trap soul in glowing cave wall make tribe lazy. Many moons of stories inside tiny screen demon, make warrior forget hunt, make gatherer forget gather. Streaming stick just modern witch stick that steal time.

What happened to you

Looking back now, I realize how naive I was. They promised me money, respect, and protection for my family. Instead, I lost my youth behind bars while they lived their comfortable lives. Trust is a luxury I can no longer afford.

You know, I, I was thinking about butterflies the other day, and, and I said to myself, I said, isn't it funny how they, they just flutter around without any real purpose? Like my friend Henry, who, well, he doesn't flutter anymore, but, but that's beside the point.