The tenth of August, eighteen twenty three.
Fawaz's journal.

I wander these dark paths of my mind, groping like a blind man without his cane. Like an unkempt mind, the paths twist aimlessly. The walls don't give any support; the scraping of my feet echoes all around me. Then without warning I'm in a freefall. As I descent into more darkness, I can only wait. I am not afraid. Whatever it is down there only I will find out. And it better be ready for me.

Have you landed here by chance? No one knows about this yet, you know