Hello Reader,

My name is John Rue. I’m either 45 or 49 years old—but I’m not sure with the time skips between worlds, and it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Despite growing up in the foster care system in Birmingham, Alabama, I managed to make my way into the University of Chicago Pritzker School of Medicine. Afterward, I spent nine years patching up bullet and knife wounds and stitching up broken lives in the ER at St. Bernard Hospital in Chicago. But don’t take my word for it; check the records if you think this is all a fairy tale.

I’m writing this as a last-ditch effort to warn you about what’s coming. What you do with this information is up to you. You might think I’m a coward for leaving, and maybe you’re right. But the truth is, I’ve got nothing left here. My wife’s gone, my family disowned me before I even knew them, and the only connections I ever made died with her. So, I’m not sticking around to play hero.

My life’s a mess—always has been. Foster care, bullying, and finally, a scholarship that got me out of that hellhole. I was always different, not just in the usual ways. Smaller, stronger, faster, eyes that seemed a bit too big for my face—things that made people uneasy without them even knowing why. So finally, they shipped me to a group home until I aged out of the system.

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I met a woman who made life bearable in med school, then lost her to something I couldn’t fix. And now? Now, I’ve got friends waiting for me to leave Earth for the second time, and that’s precisely what I’m going to do.

You can read this as a fantasy about a guy traveling with his pet or take it as a serious warning about what’s coming. Either way, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. This is the full story of my journey, everything I learned, and the relevant Archive entries. Initially, I wrote a summary of what was about to happen, but when I read it, I realized no one would believe it. So, instead, I will tell you the entire story of what happened to me, how I found out what’s going on, and let you decide for yourself.

This might sound like a cop-out, but I’m not sticking around. The only thing I’ve left on Earth are two graves, and graves don’t care. So get ready—stock up, learn first aid, train, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll survive what’s coming.