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We have made it to the Drum. It is here. We're not far from it. I can see its walls. I can hear its storms. It is not what I expected, but that is the truth of our life in this new apocalypse. Nothing is what it seems. This close to the Drum and with the Luminaire, I wish I could simply row a boat up to it and use Pascal's machine. However, the waves are thrashing, and the city keeps changing as we attempt to get there. Something is keeping us from one another, and from getting on the water. The sky is blackened. It hunts us. The water watches. It hunts us. We're not safe. Not that we ever were. The nightmare is just off the shore. Yet, it feels a million miles away.

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