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Part 30 - Entry Date: 13th Rest

-13th Rest-

By the light! I was right, though how I wish I had been wrong. I had suspected that the mercenaries would be the most volatile members of our group, and this morning, my fears were confirmed in the worst possible way. It started like any other rest, with everyone going through the motions, packing up our camp, and preparing for another grueling leg of our journey out of this forsaken place. But the fragile calm shattered when one of Sam’s men suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream, yelling about some "evil shadow" stalking him.

Before anyone could react, the man wildly fired his weapon into the air, then toward the camp. The crack of gunfire echoed across the empty, gray hills, sending a wave of panic through the group. The chaos that followed was pure madness. The bullet struck one of his comrades, piercing his shoulder, and the injured man crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain. In the confusion, everyone scrambled, not knowing whether we were under attack by something real—or whether this was yet another cruel trick of the Graylands.

Sam’s remaining men reacted swiftly. With grim determination, they opened fire on the panicking man. The look in his eyes was wild and terrified as if he truly believed some dark presence was haunting him. It was as if the Graylands had finally sunk its claws deep into his mind, twisting reality until he could no longer distinguish it from a nightmare for a brief moment before his life was snuffed out by a barrage of bullets.

The others put down their own quickly and without ceremony. There was no mercy in their actions, only the cold necessity of survival. Sam looked pale but resolute, his face a mask of determination. He gave a quick order to have the wounded man treated, but the damage had already been done. I could see it in everyone’s faces—the fear, the uncertainty.

The Graylands were eating away at us.

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It was the first time I had ever witnessed a man die before my eyes, and the experience was nothing short of harrowing. The weight of it sat heavily in my chest, a grotesque knot of shock and disbelief. Yet, to my amazement, the mercenaries—those hardened men—picked themselves up and went back to their duties as if the grim event hadn’t occurred at all. One of their own had been put down like a rabid animal, and still, they continued their work without a word, moving with a cold efficiency that felt almost inhuman.

At first glance, I found their indifference disturbing. How could they remain so composed after something so horrific? How could they return to their routines with such detachment? But when I looked more closely, I realized the truth was far more complex. Under the stoic expressions, something was simmering. Their faces, though hard, betrayed the slightest flickers of tension—jawlines clenched a bit too tightly, eyes darting nervously when they thought no one was watching. They were troubled. They had to be. It was clear now that they were hiding their fear, burying it deep under layers of training and discipline, but it was there.

Sam approached me and asked if this was the effect of the graying.

I explained that the graying typically didn’t manifest in the form of sudden panic or violent outbursts like we had just witnessed. Its effects were usually more subtle, leading to emotional detachment and an eerie numbness as the afflicted slowly disconnected from their surroundings. However, I also acknowledged that we couldn’t rule out the possibility that it might affect different individuals in varying ways.

I pointed out that the man’s skin had shown no visible signs of turning gray yet. If the graying had begun to take hold of him, it was in its earliest stages, barely perceptible. Still, I couldn’t ignore the fact that something was terribly wrong. Whether it was the graying or the psychological strain of being in this forsaken land, I couldn’t say for certain. But if the panic overtook the caravan, the chance of escape would evaporate.

Sam agreed. We both decided to try to placate everyone and keep people calm. Sam would handle his men and placate everyone else. I hope Sam can keep his men under control.

I noticed Tom was giving me strange looks while I was talking to Sam. I’m worried about him.