-30th Rest?-

I believe five rests have passed—though, at this point, who can say for certain? I've stopped recording my experience for a while, unsettled by the strange symbols and erratic scrawling that have appeared in my notes. But I feel compelled to document this now before it's too late. This may very well be my final entry.

As I continued my aimless wandering through the endless gray, I encountered them again—the shadow men. The same ones that likely caused the mercenaries to panic before. They follow me now, always lingering just beyond my full view, always hovering at the edge of my vision. These shadowy figures have two dull gray dots for their eyes. At first, their presence filled me with terror, but now... I don’t care anymore. They simply watch. Silently. As if waiting for something.

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My body has nearly succumbed to the graying. Only a small patch of skin remains untouched on my forearm, but I know that by the next time I wake, it will have turned too, completing the process. After that... well, I suspect I'll simply lie down and die. There's nothing left to fight for.

If, by some slim chance, someone finds this journal, heed these words: turn back. There is no treasure here, no glory, no opportunity. There is only gray here.