Addendum from Professor Cyno: (Note for Itsuki Homura) Please do not name your logs cynically. For patients suffering from PTSD, I suggest you treat your condition seriously.
[Log 1 - FileName - A Worthless Note]
[Encryption Code: Omega Gold-7]
[Personal Warning - To those able to view said material, you are warned to not delve into these logs. They pertain to my life. If you know Itsuki, I.E. myself, then I recommend you turn away. Why? Because I am more willing to kill anyone that reads these logs if they can’t come to understand the meaning behind the words written and recorded. Be it an enemy, ally, or bystander, should the time come when I need to kill you, I won’t hesitate. Informing me will allow me to explain in detail to give you a clear picture. If not, you have been warned.]
[Date: 2031, Error - Timestamp Redacted]
[Speech to Text Program Enabled]
[Voice Recorder Online]
Looks like it's working. Good, I guess. Well, my name is Itsuki, and.. hah, since I'm the one writing this, or well, more like talking, then I already know that, and since this is a personal log I don’t need to explain my past. This is a useless effort in my opinion, but the professor has told me to keep a log so that I can adaptively transition into a regular life after the war.
I don’t see why. I wasn’t in the war, per say. I remember being trained to one day fight in it, but that’s it.
No actual trauma, or, that’s what I tell myself at night after a round of training.
I can shoot a gun, so yeah, that tells you one thing about me. And knew how to use my weak excuse for a power well enough to be called “proficient”. Wow~. Perfect Memory, is what they called it.
What’s so great about it? Oh~ how great, I can recall things and do things I store away as thought in my cerebral cortex. All I have to do is shut my mind off to let itself perform the action to a 99.999 percent accuracy. I can even draw the images I store away in that little head of mine.
Too bad I’m too young to actually have anything to remember if note that is my own. And I rather forget the past. The war was bloody and even as a young kid, you would still understand what was happening at that young of an age in that chaotic time. The world had gone insane and monsters stalked the earth.
People died in droves and I, like many others, had to fight.
[A long silence pervaded the recording.]
I had to carry a gun in those days. It was with me everywhere I went. Me, a kid. It was sickening and it sickens me at how grown up I sound bitching about this in a log. According to the professor, kids my age should’ve been in school and playing catch and doing other things that didn’t involve firearms or learning the anatomically correct structure of stardepths and “otherworldly monsters”.
A robbed childhood is what I’d call my situation. Now though, Peace.. Peace has come. I really wished for it. But at a great cost? We lost too many people in the last operation, that damn operation the stupid Russians and Chinese proposed.
Yeah they said, we want you to drive into enemy territory as a scout ahead like always, it's the last one. You’ve done this before. What a load of bull. They just didn’t want to waste their own assets, save their own asses from the fires of the war.
Not to mention how brainless the current UN council was in approving the said suicide mission and its cohort phases of operation when we all knew it would fail. All in all, against what everyone thought, the initial mission was a success. It’s why I exist, I’m alive. If they had failed, I would’ve been sent in next.
More lambs for the slaughter, meat to the grinder, using up the unwanted bits, would be how most of the other generals would put it. Disgusting.
Crazy generals, trying to get us killed. Though, now that we’ve shown how competent our first string team members are, the UN can go fuck itself, along with the rest of the world that tried to scrap us. In fact, I prefer that all the people in the world could be thrown into the dumpster to rot.
Huh? [A muffled voice came over the recording and the text began to blur.]
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
What?..I..me..a.. Kill.. tra.. sh.. Angry?.. No.. Hate.. yes.. Beasts.. No.. Aren.. t. .Pro.. fe.. ah.. What.. ver.. Cyno!.. Piece of.. Hmmmm!
Fine fine. Apparently, the professor wants me to be less dark about how I talk. The cheery guy seems to find my speech pattern off putting and that my so-called “relative” would frown at how I’m behaving. That guy isn’t even my real dad. Hah, Can’t blame them though. I’m a little shit, taught only to fight and now I have to learn how to do the common kid things that don’t make any sense to me.
Going to school sounds nice, but those won’t be built until the next decade, and by then, I’ll already be working as an explorer. I’m an early bloomer in that field of work and quite a good one. I sound arrogant, don’t I?
Well I’m not trying to. My voice is flat when I say all this. I’m not happy or sad, more just blunt and saying all the facts. Could you blame me? The world has gone to hell and I live in it, along with the other sorry S.O.Bs that lived to tell the tail.
That and the cowardly wimps that made soldiers fight on their behalf. Old skeletons that need to be buried, is what I think. Huh? I guess I can do the job. I’m the most qualified and not to mention, I am thorough in my work.
[The sound of a ranting man in the background garbled the text to speech.]
Hmm? Talk about my day? Wait! Professor, can’t you hurry up and get off my back already!.. .. .. Fine.. Hah, Well, I got off the firing range, destroyed a stardepth nest on the surface, and had to.. .. murder some children.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. [Violent Shouting - Unrecognizable - Text To Speech Error].. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
That last part was a joke, but it seems the professor didn’t find it funny and is nagging me again. So I'll correct myself.
I played with.. Children.. My age. Is that better? Yeah? Alright then professor, hurry and get out of here so I can finish this and toss it into the trash. What! You’re going to catalog this into the master system, are you insane! That’s for important.. Ugh! Nevermind.
So again, wait. What was I saying.. .. .. oh yeah.. The children. I played with a few of them. Bright kids, some of them were even in their late teenage years. Maybe close to a decade older than me. Impressive that they lived that long.
The blue haired girl was annoying, but she at least had some grace to the way she talks. She was a popular figure to the other children and she tried to get the kids to warm up to me. Told me to smile and that didn’t end well.
Most of the kids cried and the blue girl had to deal with them. She really knew how to wrangle crying children. She was good at hugging them and letting herself be a shoulder to cry on.
I’m.. envious.
I can’t do that.
I can shoot things, just give me a gun and I’ll kill it.
Bang. Just like that.
Her though. The blue girl, she can kill the bad emotions in people. Make them forget and help them get along with others, or themselves. Trauma’s a bitch.
She could do all the things I can’t do and she sure helped me, she even made us something called shaved ice with her manifested power. It tastes chalky, but I think it's because I’m so used to eating the old military rations.
Now those were bland and tasted like salt that went bad. Still edible, but the flavor persisted like gun smoke in the air.
But I preferred the shaved ice on the third bowl I had from the blue girl. I could finally taste the syrup they put on it. It was strawberry flavored, I think?
I’ve only seen a strawberry in pictures so I knew it was red and I heard that it’s sweet and.. Fruity. I have no clue what fruity even means.
Well, I think that’s enough. That was my day. Hope I get to see the blue girl again, maybe then she'll be less bossy.
To end off on this little worthless piece of data, if I ever go back to read this, then I swear I must be fitting in better into society than I thought, or as well as I can be for a child soldier like myself. And really, I know for a fact that I’m not stable and that I messed up. I’ll add a warning to this file for anyone that tries to read it.
I can predict that I’ll make a name for myself in the future, and not a good one. Criminal maybe? Deviant? Or am I going to be normal? As best as I think I’ll fit in, I’ll still be a soldier through and through.
I’m the one who holds the gun and I point it wherever I’m told. The only decision I make is whether I pull the trigger or not.
That’s why I think I would have to kill anyone who reads this. Not from embarrassment or other petty emotions. No.. .. this log incriminates a lot of people. A lot of friends and enemies. Both of which might get caught up in political conflicts in the near future, making headlines and global change.
Some good, some bad. If this log is ever presented to a court of law, if those even existed anymore after the war, then heads are going to roll.
That, or I’ll make them roll myself.
Now.. If you made it to reading this part of the log this late in, then I guess you better keep your mouth shut and tell me you did read this so I can pull you out of danger. There’s a lot of gray and black truth behind my words.
Albeit, the context isn’t there for you to understand but take a note of Log 1. Yeah, there will be more.
If you’re still reading them know that I’m not heartless, I just kill when the situation calls for it, and now isn’t one of those times if you got this far into the log. So, congratulations, you dodged a bullet. But.. I get the feeling no one will believe me on that.
They’ll see me as two faced, a liar, a demon, the spawn of the devil. I don’t care. I am those things, but does it matter as long as I’m protecting people, or righting a wrong. Maybe? I don’t know.
But at least.. .. .. .. ..talk to me.
[A Long and Heavy Silence Pervaded the Recording]
I’m going to bed.
[Log End]