(β:001), written,

[readytobe]

[The camera for this journal has been obscured completely, so that the writer's identity is somewhat of a mystery. It's someone with small, neat handwriting, at least, something close to cursive but not quite there, and almost too perfect to have been written by hand.]

The only useful information I have been able to gather is that I am now part of an experiment on a world other than my own. Why, and how, seem unimportant to my fellow captives, but it does seem as though this communication network has been in use for quite some time. Perhaps the answers are buried further than I have dug.

I do not expect assistance, but I would not mind being pleasantly surprised by it.

Comments

[Written]

[readytobe]

I see...yes, I can imagine that it would be frustrating. [He wonders about it ever happening to him. He's never even been a child before.]

Your suspicions sound reasonable. I fail to see how turning people into children, or attaching wings to them, might assist in sending us home. They are responsible for the wings, are they not?

[Written]

[bantambreeze]

Nope, the wings are from the world.

Which reminds me. The wings? They keep you alive. Don't let them get hurt, okay? You'll die if they do. I've had a few close calls since I arrived.

[Written]

[readytobe]

They...keep you alive? [SQUINTING AT THE SCREEN. THAT IS WEIRD THING? WHY YOU SAY WEIRD THING.] How?

[Written]

[bantambreeze]

That is one of the mysteries of the world. I don't know how, but if you don't have them, you die. All we actually know about them is that.

[It's a very weird thing.]

I don't like it. I don't like it at all.