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[Though he is only beginning to rise later, Erichthonios checks the journals as has become his habit upon waking.

He does not expect to find a message writ to him, least of all one such as the one Naoya writes.

Eyes reading over the page, dread builds in his veins. Oh no. How many saw?]

My thanks for the warning.

[The lettering is not as smooth as it normally would be, this time written by a halting and unsteady hand]

'Tis a difficult matter to discuss.

I know not why the dream broadcast, or where to begin.

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