Even she didn't liked the last entry. Or fully understood what Rei meant by it. He didn't done much explaining—just let the frustration pour out of him like he needed the page more than the page needed him.
But the next entry was different.
The handwriting was back to its old self—loose, confident, alive. Rushed, but in a good way. Like Rei hadn't wanted to waste time keeping a record of this one, but had forced himself to sit down and write it anyway because it was too important to skip.
Both of them leaned in.
"12/09/3024"
"This whole place is a nightmare. It's a tiny country crammed into the corner of the continent, surrounded by three bigger ones, and all four of them are at each other's throats over the same thing: resources. Oil. Minerals. The stuff we had mountains of back home without even thinking about it."
