Tulip Glasslip here.

For the moment, let's put aside all matters regarding my… current personal circumstances. We'll come back to that at the end of this entry.

Or, well… not entry. Fragment, I suppose. I'm a woman dedicated to her themes and aesthetic if nothing else and I firmly believe that if I ever use the name Entry for any of these again it should be accompanied by one of the many elusive names of the wisteria flower, as it is tradition. At the moment, however, I am lost, scattered. All the petals need to join back together so that I may once again bloom. Thus, fragments it will be for now.

Anyway, I apologize. I'm sure no one wants to read me debating with myself about the general theme of the title of these things, but like I said, I am very dedicated to my craft.

It's the only fun I have left, I suppose.

So… Fragments. I've taken a few steps forward and I've come across a solid piece of evidence, so let's focus on that for now.

As I said previously, someone or something stripped my laptop clean of all personal files, and not even an advanced recovery program was able to find as much as a scrap. I tried social media next. I'm not an avid user of any of them but I have a few dummy accounts for investigative reasons and I thought maybe I could find a post or chat log which might shed light into what's happened the last two years.

Unfortunately, I was unable to log in to any of them. No matter what password I try, it is futile. I've tried changing it but even the answers to my secret questions seem to be erroneous. An attempt to look at my own profiles from an even newer account was in vain as well; all of them are set to private and I can't even look at my friends/followers list.

This website I'm using to upload my findings is the only thing I was able to access. And of course, nothing new has been posted for over two years, with the exception of an honestly staggering number of comments from all of you clamoring for my return. And more recently, a whole lot more celebrating it. It's almost enough to make a girl blush.

… Thank you. I mean it.

In any case, I was lucky, in the end. Whoever had erased everything from my laptop missed one thing.

There's this program in my computer… I think it's one of those that upload your files to the cloud, or something like that. I'm not entirely sure of how it works, but when I opened it, I found something inside. A sound file, titled ' 3'.

It was… an interview. Not one of mine, but of Marie's, set shortly after her encounter with Alberich. Judging from the file's title and its content, I can only assume that this was one of the pieces of information she would've shown me shortly following her explanation featured in the last fragment.

It took me a while, but I've managed to transcribe the contents of the interview. I'll leave them below:

----------------------------------------

[The recording begins with the sound of a woman clearing her throat, followed by the shuffling of hands over a table. There is a moment of silence before Marie speaks]

"Testing, testing. One, two. Very well.

This is a recording by Marie Levy Corenthal. I've travelled to Pallet town after insistent recommendation from my assistants in order to personally interview Mr. Yasuhiro Tanaka. He is not an ex-citizen of Wysteria, but if what I've been told is to be believed, his one visit to the town many years ago resulted in a clash with… supernatural forces.

Mr. Tanaka. Please, state your experience."

Ah, oh… right, yah. Do I just tell you everything that happened or…?

"Go over the whole story, yes. Just don't dawdle."

… Yah. Alright.

[Mr Tanaka's voice is that of an old, chain-smoking man, and his accent is so thick and present that I've been forced to smooth it out somewhat in order for this to be easily readable. I doubt I could've understood it much myself if my mother hadn't also grown up in the country.

She'd probably be mad at me for doing this if she could read this. But in all honesty… fuck her.]

Blinking lights is… it's such a cliché, y'know? Don't wanna make my experience sound universal or anything; I'm sure being a photographer and loving cinema so much makes it easier for me to notice patterns in some stories, but I feel like that one's well known even for normal folk.

Ask anyone, even lil' kids who've only seen a couple horror movies, what's the easiest way to know that something spooky's going on. The lights flickering, of course. Dunno if there's some psychology behind it or whatever. Maybe it's the light being slowly but obviously being taken away from us, maybe it's the flickering itself making us think of dying, twitching things. Whatever the case, it's always the same. And whenever I saw it in a movie, I wondered why the characters always took so long to realize something was wrong.

I know now, though. Horror… real horror, has a way of sneaking up on you. Easing you step by step until you finally go over the edge and you can't honestly remember at which point any significant change occurred.

Well I guess there was one point. But even then, I didn't have a real reason for bein' suspicious that someone over at Wysteria needed my services. Was for a party following a wedding, they told me. Next week. Said they couldn't find anyone else to take care of photography and that they'd heard of me from a friend. Apparently I had a reputation for being hard-working and responsible, and if I accepted the job they'd make sure I was well compensated.

In all honesty, I don't think they were in on it. Yeah I know. Doesn't make much sense to contact a photographer from half across the damn region but rich people are like that sometimes. Probably heard my name once and were all 'Ah whatever, can't bother to look for someone else. Sure, bring him in and we'll pay him extra for the trouble'.

And boy did they pay extra. As soon as I saw the full amount, all doubts regarding this job left me. Sure, I'd have to travel from Pallet to Wysteria, but so what? Didn't have kids or a partner or anyone to take care of, and besides, the trip would be good for catching up an all those radio shows I'd been meaning to listen to.

So I made my way to Wysteria over the span of a couple days and told the couple I'd be happy to meet with them and discuss the job after finding a hotel and taking a well-deserved shower. The bride stuttered on the other side of the phone. Then she laughed, telling me that she'd totally forgotten to tell me. There was no need for me to pay for lounging. I could just stay in the small home half a block from their new house, where her boyfriend had lived before he'd moved in with her. She told me it was a little dingy and probably full of cobwebs, but the bed was still there and the water, gas and electricity still ran.

Again… that's rich folk for you, I suppose. The 'small home' was by far the biggest place I'd ever stayed in, with three rooms, a kitchen, a living room and two bathrooms, but of course I didn't tell that to the couple.

They were… nice folk, really. I've never been one for politeness when it comes to the rich, but at some point regardless of the money they have you can't truly be mad at them if they treat you with such kindness and consideration. The bride didn't shoot me any dirty looks or suspicious glares. She just showed me around the place a bit, gave me the key and told me to meet them in their house after I'd gotten a little rest.

… I first saw the blinking window that afternoon. I'd showered and gotten ready, and decided to get a quick smoke from the kiosk I'd seen a couple streets away before heading over. There it was when I was walking back… almost beckoning.

Er. I should probably explain a bit the layout of the houses for this to make sense. Is it…?

"It's fine. Go ahead."

Right. So imagine you walk out the door to your house. In front of you is the 'side' of one of the houses, the wall that leads to their backyard. To get to the couple's house you have to walk across the street and to the left, passing the front of that first house until you get to the second, which is theirs. And keep in mind that the houses themselves are a lot taller than the walls around their backyards, having more than one floor and all.

Now imagine that instead of crossing the street and going left, you just go right, like I did when I went to buy a pack of cigs. When you come back… you see it.

Up past the wall to the first backyard, I saw the blinking window. It was small. The kind that you gotta open up instead of to the side, which was only good to let some air in. I doubt anyone pudgier than me could've gotten through.

It led to one of the rooms in the second floor. And the light inside that room was blinking like crazy. It flickered on and off couple times per second like someone was throwing one of those rave parties in there.

Of course I didn't give it much of a reaction at the time. Just frowned and thought it must've been a faulty light bulb or something of the sort.

I met with the couple that afternoon. Like I said, they were… nice. Miller, I think their family name was. They led me 'round the inside of the house while I took notes and explained to them which spots would be the best for shooting depending on what kinda pictures would be needed. You know, judging location, lighting, all that. I'd be working mostly in their enormous backyard but suggested a couple places we could use for specific shoots with just the two of them.

Almost two hours later, we were done with the planning. They… thanked me, I remember. Again, I was baffled by how genuine the both of them sounded when they smiled and shook my hand and told me how much they appreciated my expertise.

If it weren't for what happened after… I might remember them as the best customers I've ever gotten.

"What about the blinking room? Did you see it while touring the house?"

That's the thing. By that time I was so focused on my work that I barely remembered what I'd seen, so I didn't even look for it. But looking back on it now… no. There was definitely no room in the second floor that matched the location that window led to.

Though I would only discover that a couple days later.

That day was a Monday, I think. They told me to come by Wednesday when all the plastic and non-perishable decorations would arrive so I could see if any changes would be needed, and I agreed.

That night I had trouble sleeping. Odd, considering how tired I felt the moment I lay down. Couldn't have slept more than five hours, and when I woke up at around 8 a.m. my head was pounding. And my eyes… they felt sore and itchy like I'd been staring at a bright screen for hours.

I… tried not to pay it too much mind. Shit like that happens sometimes.

Not much to talk about regarding that Tuesday. I spent most of the day planning on my own, taking care of my equipment and visiting one of the nearby parks 'cause I didn't have much better to do. I would've tried reading a book or watching some T.V. but like I said, my head was pounding like crazy and that would've only made it worse.

Though… I did see the blinking light again. I'm positive they weren't flickering during the day when I went out to the park, but later when I was coming back from buying something to eat for dinner… there it was. This time, I did pay a bit more attention to it. And as I stared up at that window I… I could've sworn that the odd pounding in my head, just behind my eyes, perfectly mirrored the rhythm at which the lights turned off and on. Like… perfectly so.

I didn't get much sleep that night either. But I've never let something like insomnia or a headache stop me from doing my work, especially with so much money on the line, so I bit the bullet and went through the rest of the day examining the decorations at the Miller's house and finding the best places for shoots.

But even then, I felt odd, scattered. My eyelids were heavy and every time I closed my eyes I felt that same, persistent pounding behind my eyes. I couldn't get the image of that blinking light behind the window out of my mind. At one point after I finished confirming something with the husband I offhandedly mentioned it, passing it off as just curiosity.

I remember he stopped in the middle of hanging one of the decorations and looked over his shoulder at me, frowning. I repeated to him what I'd seen. I asked if maybe there was a light in one of the rooms in the second floor that was faulty during the night and I told him where in the floor the window was. He didn't… I mean, I don't think his confusion was faked. He told me he hadn't noticed anything like that in any of the rooms. But most importantly… the house didn't have a room with a window like that.

The look on my face must've been something else because Mr. Miller actually took me seriously and went to check. And yes, just like he'd said, there was… nothing there. The hallway simply stopped at a wall, and the nearest room on that side, the bathroom, contained no window like the one I'd seen from outside.

Still… Something about the hallway itself had seemed odd to me from the moment I'd seen it. It felt like it ended before it was supposed to. Either the wall itself was a lot thicker than was reasonable or…

In any case, I decided to drop the subject. Mr. Miller told me I'd probably mistaken their house for someone else's from that angle and I had no desire to argue with such a conclusion.

I worked hard for the rest of the day, but I was… silent. Less cheery. I remember being surprised and jumping at nothing when I heard a sound or felt something while I had my eyes closed. As though part of me expected the world itself to pause while I did it, which made absolutely no sense.

At the time, at least.

That night I… I actually went looking for it. Get some ease of mind, y'know? Make sure I wasn't hallucinating or anything. And… yeah. There it was. Up and across the street, past that wall, the blinking light taunted me from behind that window. I hadn't been mistaken. There was absolutely no chance that wasn't somewhere inside the Miller's house.

I stood there for a while, debating whether I should bring it up again or just let it go. I mean… it was just a light. So what if there was a weird blinking room hidden in the back of the second floor? I did have some thoughts… regarding what could've merited building such a room. Was there something illegal going on there?

But… no. They wouldn't make the room so obvious if that were the case and besides, Mr. Miller had looked genuinely surprised when I'd brought it up. Not to toot my own horn or anything but I am pretty good at knowing when someone's lying at me. I guess after years of seeing the clearly fake emotions in some of the photos I'd taken, I'd learn to recognize them at a glance. And I knew that whatever was happening up there in that room, the Millers weren't responsible.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

And when I thought that… I noticed. Was the flickering of the light getting faster? The frequency must've increased while I was distracted. It didn't even look like a strobe light anymore, it blinked multiple times a second and just looking at it made my headache much worse. The light was beating like a second heart behind my eyes. I know it makes no sense, even now I can barely recount it, but that's the only way I can describe it.

I was just about to look away, you know. I wonder… what would've happened if I had. If I'd gotten away before…

Well. Maybe it would've been just a couple more days of headaches. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. Doesn't really matter.

All of a sudden, there was flash of light from behind the window. Much brighter and stronger than any of the previous flickers, and even though it's not true I could've sworn it lasted for an entire second. It was like… like standing in front of the lamp of a lighthouse when it's turned on.

I jumped back and cursed like hell until I hit the back of my feet on something and fell on my ass in the middle of the street. Thank goodness there was no one out, I guess. I already looked like a vagrant who'd moved in to this neighborhood, I didn't wanna also make them think I was crazy.

"This… sudden flash of light. I imagine it's what the slow flickering was slowly building towards. Did it continue afterwards?"

I… yeah. But it was slower this time. Like the first time I saw it.

"What happened afterwards?"

I walked away and tried my best to ignore it.

My mind was playing tricks on me, clearly. Maybe… maybe I'd inhaled something bad last time I'd mixed the chemicals in my dark room and these were the after effects. The possibility was… horrifying. But like I said, I tried not to think about it. I needed to focus on the wedding. If I could just… make it to the weekend and do my job, I'd get enough money that I'd never have to worry again about blinking lights or hallucinations or anything else.

That night, when I went to sleep, I prayed to get a good night's sleep.

And my prayers were answered.

It's… hard to describe what happened to me then. When exactly had the change begun. But I remember clearly that, the moment I lay down and closed my eyes, it felt like everything around me had disappeared. Not just the light and sounds. It's like... you know when you go to sleep but even after you close your eyes you can still picture where everything is in your mind? The world goes black, but it's still there around you.

At that moment… it really didn't feel like it was. But I was too tired to complain or pay it much mind. That night I slept like a corpse, and I mean that almost literally. There were no dreams. No slowly easing into being asleep. I was like a lamp or a light bulb. A flick of the switch and… I was gone.

Waking up was the same. I just opened my eyes again and there I was laying on my bed, the world still existing around me. I remember being surprised because I always have trouble getting out of bed. Takes me a while to realize I'm asleep. And once I do, it takes me even longer to will myself to get up.

This was different. I just… was, again. No drowsiness, nothing. Like my body could only exist in binary terms, either awake or asleep, no in-between.

It was… like that for the rest of the day. It's hard to remember much of a day where you're constantly in a state of… simmering panic. Trying to hold it together. Telling yourself that everything's okay, that there's oughta be an explanation for this. A disease, most likely. I rationalized that all I had to do was get through this weekend and then use some of the money I'd earn to go to a doctor and get it fixed.

Yeah, I know. But like I said, most of the day was a blur 'cause of the state I was in, so it gets hard to recall.

I remember that the day passed a lot faster than I expected. I would blink, close my eyes for just a second, and every light and noise and sense of where I was vanished completely. Then when I opened them again, minutes would've passed.

I tried my best to distract myself. At one point I was talking a walk through the neighborhood to at least make some use of that anxious energy and that's when I ran into Ms. Miller. I'd been avoiding the street from which I could see that window, so when I headed back I couldn't help but pass by their house.

She… greeted me. Kinda smile that could brighten anyone's day up. But I'd had enough of brightness. Even as we talked and exchanged pleasantries, I could feel something inside myself… something telling me to go back home. Hide under the blankets and close my eyes. Make everything dark and right again.

The thought terrified me. At one point… I think we'd finished speaking and I was supposed to go, but I stayed a few seconds longer. I asked her… dunno why but I asked her where they'd gotten the house from. If they'd built it themselves or bought it from someone else.

She wasn't put off by the question, so I probably didn't sound as scared and desperate as I felt. She just smiled and shook her head. It was quite the funny story, she told me. They'd both been looking for a house since they had a young son and their old one was too small to raise him in.

She actually said that with a straight face. That her old house wasn't big enough to raise kids in. Had I not been in such a terrified state, it would've been hard not to laugh.

"…Please stay on topic, Mr. Tanaka."

Right, sorry.

Anyway, she said that with house prices being what they were, it was getting harder and harder to find a good spot in Wysteria. And of course they didn't want to move, she said. This town meant too much to both of them and it's not like they'd be able to keep their jobs if they did. But then…

I remember she smiled so brightly in between breaths then, I recoiled a bit. Their boss, she said. Both of them worked for the same company, and it turned out their boss had been meaning to sell his house for quite a while. A beautiful home with two floors and a wondrous and fertile backyard. Perfect. But most amazingly, the price was… well, to be honest, she felt an almost criminal guilt to pay so little for it.

But they had been friends with their boss for a while and he was nothing if not a generous man. Besides… he'd said he'd gotten almost everything he needed from that house.

I… didn't know what to say. This wasn't the answer I expected but then again, what was I expecting? What do you do when the truth ends up being more suspicious than your own assumptions?

In any case, that's when we parted ways. She told me she needed to hurry back and get ready. I asked her what for and she beamed at me again and said that tonight was their bachelor and bachelorette's party, and they both wanted to have a night of fun before finally tying the ribbon.

I… barely listened to what she said after that. Just nodded and told her I hoped the night was as fun as they expected. But deep down, I was still repeating what I'd just heard to myself over and over, like a light flickering on and off.

They'd both be gone tonight. The house would be empty.

I don't need to tell you the stupid plan I came up with. You already know.

In my defense, what little of it there can be… I did muse it over for hours. But no matter how much I tried to argue against the idea, or what arguments I used to prove that it was idiotic or crazy or just plain out illegal… it was for nothing. I think deep down I knew. That I'd end up going no matter what. I was like a Venomoth trying to stop itself from flying into a fire.

Some base instincts you can't fight against, I suppose.

I… waited outside, hidden behind a tree, until I saw their car leave. Almost didn't. As the sun went down it got harder and harder to stop myself from just going over there and to hell with the consequences. But I somehow controlled myself. But once they were gone… I don't think I could've climbed that wall faster if my life depended on it.

Once atop the wall, I slowly and carefully walked through the roof of the first house toward theirs. And the weird thing was… I don't think anyone noticed me. There was a Growlithe in their backyard for Mew's sake! They can smell you from a mile away and you're telling me it just lay there while I walked across its master's roof? And it's not like my steps didn't make any noise. Yes I'm thin and rather small but still.

As soon as I closed my eyes… it was like I wasn't there. Like no one in the world could've noticed me.

I… reached the end of the roof and there it was. The houses were built pretty close together so I just had to shuffle a bit to get in front of the blinking window.

I don't know why, but I refused to look inside. No, I… I wanted to be inside. And somehow it felt like if I peeked before I entered it wouldn't… be right? I don't know.

The window wasn't locked. I knew that before I opened it. Slipping inside was… easy, like I'd somehow gotten this thin, frail body for the purpose of being there, at that point, to slip through that window.

It's… hard to recall what of everything happened first. It was all too fast. But I remember my feet touching the floor of that hidden room. The light shone against my back. Its flickering wasn't as fast as before. And even though the change from flicker to flicker would've been impossible to notice, I somehow knew… it was getting slower. Each time, the darkness persisted for just a little bit longer.

I didn't turn around. But it wasn't because I was scared of what I'd see. Scared of whatever was making that light.

I was just busy trying to determine if my eyes were open or not.

I honestly couldn't tell. At that point I don't think it mattered anymore. When the light shone, I could see, even if they were closed. When it went off, I couldn't. Simple as that. A perfect binary state, with nothing in between.

Someone spoke just then. I wasn't surprised. Somehow I knew that there was someone else in the room with me. You know that feeling you get when you're being watched? When you just know there's someone else there? I felt that… but only when the light went out. Somehow, I knew that if I were to turn around and look at the room when it was lit up, I'd see nor hear no one.

It was a man's voice. Young. There was such a chipper and cordial energy in his tone as he told me he should've expected something like this to happen. I would've replied. Ask what he meant but… I was too taken away by the voice itself. The way its sound only reached me when the room was dark. It was something like…

[At this point, Mr. Tanaka attempts to imitate the way the man's voice sounded with his own. Each dash is a pause. A caesura.]

H-e wa-s sp-eaki-ng-li-ke-thi-s.

The man then sighed and whispered to himself that they should've moved the Blossoming forward until after the Miller's wedding, but oh well, what can you do. The collateral damage would be… minimal, he told me, and I could have sworn, even if I didn't see it myself, that the smile upon his face then was nothing short of glacial.

I… was scared then, I'll admit. I didn't dare turn around. I asked… who he was, and his reply was quick and to the point.

I a-m th-e si-xt-h.

His declaration sounded like a purr, like a whisper of triumph. There was such pride and unbridled glee in his voice. I don't think I'd ever heard a man sound so perversely happy.

I swallowed, and could feel my own heartbeat trying to rise against the tempo of the decreasing flickering of the light, but it was now tied to it. Nausea and weakness overtook me. I asked… I asked if he would kill me.

The man laughed, and with each beat of that laughter in between flashes of light I could hear it come closer and closer. Until finally, I felt his breath on the back of my neck. The flickering was weaker now. Almost nonexistent. I knew that the light was finally about to give out.

He whispered in my ear that no, he would not kill me. He was curious. If he was to be blessed by this light, what would happen to me once it flickered away for good? Would I become his opposite? The negative to his positive? The zero to his one? He very much hoped so.

Then, slowly, almost tenderly, he reached around me and placed something in my hands. Something heavy and plastic. My fingers recognized it instantly; it was a camera.

I fearfully asked why he'd given me this, and I swear I heard his smile. Felt it in my bones.

Just then, the light flickered one last time. The room fell still and dark, and at the same time I felt my own heart cease to a halt. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't see.

But I didn't die. And I felt with every cell of my being as the man put his lips close to my ear and whispered the reply to my previous question. This time, his voice wasn't cut off at all.

Because, he told me, a photographer is only alive when the light flashes.

I knew, then, what I had to… what he wanted me to do. I finally turned around, but of course I couldn't see. So I raised the camera to my face, and faced it forward as I pressed the button.

An impossibly bright light swallowed the room and there, for just a moment, I could see them. The man. He looked… even younger than I'd expected. He was thin and spindly like me, but most of his body was hidden in the bulkiness of a white lab coat. He was blond, I remember. Blond with a streak of blue hair that went around his head. And his eyes… there was absolutely nothing human behind them. No love or compassion or anything that would make him tick. In that infinitesimal moment, I felt him staring into me like he was a butcher and I was a Tepig.

I also saw what had been the source of that light. There was a big glass tank in the middle of the room, and inside was a Pokemon. Aquatic, I imagine, since it had that kinda shape. It was mostly blue except for the yellow scales around the eyes. And dangling from its head was… well what I imagine had been causing that light. It looked like the round glass at the tip of an Ampharos' tail. Might be the same thing.

The Pokemon was dead, of course. I could tell, even if I only saw it for a moment. And the liquid it was suspended in… dunno how but I knew that it wasn't water. It was transparent like water but it looked… slimy? Viscous. Like some kinda gel.

Then just when I realized that, the light faded. The picture had been taken. I'd had my one moment of life.

And then…

Well, I don't remember anything after that.

"Nothing?"

Nothing. Woke up in my car the day after the wedding. Apparently I'd actually gone through with it since the cash was in my wallet, but I couldn't find any of my cameras anywhere. The only thing I found was a slip of paper in my pocket. Small. Had a message in it, written by hand.

Don't come back.

And… I didn't. That was it.

"You haven't had an encounter with the man or anyone else suspicious ever since?"

No. And to be honest, ever since it's more like everyone normal around me has had a strange encounter with me.

"You've… kept the abilities you gained while in Wysteria."

You experienced it for yourself, didn't you? When you entered the room and couldn't find me until I opened my eyes.

"Yes. I admit, I had to… see it to believe it."

It's been like that ever since. When I'm in darkness or I close my eyes… it's like I'm not there. My heart stops beating. Everything disappears around me and no one can even notice my presence.

But… I guess it's better to just be alive. I've done what I can to live with who… with what I am so far. And honestly… it's not been as bad as I expected.

Turns out there's not much that differentiates a monster from a normal person.

"…Yes. Quite."

Then… is that all?

"Almost. I thank you for your time and the invaluable information you've given me, but I'm afraid there's one more thing I need to ask of you. However, I'll need to turn the recorder off for this."

What are y–

[The recording stops, then resumes a second later. Mary speaks to herself.]

Well. Isn't that something.

When they suggested I interview this man myself I knew his statement must have been substantial but… wow. An actual account of a Stigma's rise to power. If I still believed in such a thing, I'd say luck has shone on me today.

From what I've gathered, the Blossoming is the process through which someone becomes a Stigma for the Institute. A ritual of sorts. Not all of them gain supernatural abilities from their own Blossoming; I'm confident in guessing some possessed them even before joining and others have none at all. It would seem it is a ritual in name only. Still. It's a very valuable piece of information.

Now, I'm not sure just how much stock I'd put in Mr. Tanaka's vivid recollection of the events, but if his description of this man, this sixth Stigma is accurate… then that raises more question than it answers. A certain scientist came to mind immediately upon hearing it. However, that man's age does not match with the date in which this event took place. And while him gaining the exact opposite abilities as Mr. Tanaka is indeed frightening, said abilities would not include... heh, eternal youth.

More research will need to be conducted. Then again, is that not always the case?

[The recording ends here.

Marie's last comments are insightful, but there's something she's missed. Not caring much for individual statements from Wysteria's ex-citizens has come back to bite her yet again, it seems.

These Millers… I am convinced they're the same couple that vanished alongside their son Marty following the lighthouse incident, fifteen years after this statement. And… even that took place almost three decades ago.

Just how long has Wysteria served as the Institute's trial grounds? Were Maes and the Millers… were Monika, Horace, Kate and Mark… was I… just another one of the countless domino pieces placed neatly in a line, simply toyed with because there was a point in which I needed to fall for their plan to be a success?

And if the disappearance of the townsfolk was not the final stage of said plan… what the hell am I staring at? What, exactly, am I fighting against?

…

Whatever the case, I now know the identity of yet another Stigma. Mary's implication was not lost on me. Personally, I don't care how this man managed to be alive so many years ago. Magical or not, rotten bastards like him drop dead all with the same thump.

I'm making a list. And assholes like him better pray they're not in it]

----------------------------------------

Well then.

This is the kind of information I'm sure would have been –and probably was– immensely useful to me two years ago. Not that I don't appreciate it now. I just wish I could've found anything regarding my missing memories or the cause thereof.

But what can you do.

I took a closer look at the program, and while there wasn't anything in the bin, the transfer history tab told me that a significant number of files were transferred toward another drive more than two weeks ago. I don't know what kind of files, or how many. Still, it's a piece of evidence nonetheless.

As for my living situation, I've graduated from being homeless, if barely.

Since I couldn't risk leaving Cerulean yet, I wandered through the city during my free time, looking for any half-time job that required no documents or certifications from my part. In that, at least, luck shone on me.

Near the slums, I found a small, dingy archival office run by a crusty old lady looking for… a secretary, she called it. In truth, servant might have been a more appropriate work. Cleaning, archiving, assisting during checkups, answering the phone, there seems to be no end to the number of tasks I can be entrusted with. Still, she asks no questions and pays me weekly. It will be enough for now.

I feel bad for that poor guy who competed against me during the job interview. Lynne, I believe his name was? He looked about as desperate as me and I could have sworn he shot me a look of pure hatred when I was chosen over him. But I cannot dwell in pity at the moment. I needed to secure my position as soon as possible.

Now that starving or being jumped and stabbed to death in my sleep isn't an… immediate concern, I can focus more in my investigation.

I'll take my laptop to a nearby IT place, see if any of those people know of a way to recover the deleted/transferred files.

Furthermore, now that the trail has gone cold, I'll look around the hotel I woke up in and see if I can find anything. There hasn't been any news of a dead Alakazam in the news. I doubt the body is still there, however.

Until then, continue to keep me in your thoughts. I'll make sure to keep you in mine

Cheers,

Tulip Glasslip.