October 13th, 2044, my first entry since fleeing to Brofnik.

For a while there even lifting a pen felt daunting.

Finure always talked about how badly the sun could hurt us, but wow, did it?

The surface burns healed over a day, but the aching weakness lingered in my bones like a bad flu. I had no idea

vampires could be laid out like that. It's taken me nearly all weak to feel like myself again.

We've stopped at a Portuguese fort on the Atlantic coast,

sort of the same vibe as Lockrin, part medieval fortress

park museum, one of a number of bolt holes Kirshan keeps around the world.

As for the Queen's whereabouts, well, she could be on Venus as easily as just around the corner.

Kirchen hasn't said, she's still keeping her cards close,

while the rest of us figure out our own next steps.

Hope, hope, are you awake?

Yeah, what's up?

Do you think this place is haunted?

No, why do you?

I don't know.

Woes with bunk beds.

And that's kind of like an old asylum or something.

I think they were regimental barracks for the artillery men.

Yeah I know.

Just back to sort of coast, do?

I guess.

...