24 MAY 79 AU. 2127 HOURS.
DESIGNATION: 00007125-ALEPH.
UNIT: ASURA-00 PNEUMA

I was allowed to return to my quarters on Wednesday the 20th. I suppose that the R&D team got everything they wanted out of me. Maybe that’s a good thing.

I have been informed that, on account of my prolonged hospitalization, and in light of my combat on the 14th, I will be doing twice as many combat simulations as usual starting tomorrow until the end of the month. They say that the simulations will be “a theme and variations on your encounter with the Enemy,” and that I should “refrain from logging hysterics in my official reports of each simulation.” Hysterics. Hysterics!

I know what I saw, and I know it was real. What Shub-Niggurath showed me was not simply a manifestation of my subconscious, not simply a bundle of hallucinations, but… a sort of… vision, a message, communication. I don’t know if it was intentional, or if it was her way of howling out in death throes, but it was real, and command should take it seriously.

I mean, they send me there to fight them and catalogue what I see. They raised me, changed me, trained me, and are now expecting the world of me. And yet, so many years later, it feels like ultimately nobody takes me seriously at all, like I’m a sort of inconvenience, a parasite. I fight, and they don’t take my report seriously… I get seriously injured, and they poke at me to get better without showing empathy… and the few people here who do care, who do want to spend time together, can’t. Because of work.

But I’m awash with a different possibility. The possibility that I was wrong. That maybe they ignored that part of my report not because it was nonsense, but because… they knew something that I didn’t. Something that corroborates what Shub-Niggurath conveyed to me. That I shouldn’t know.

Something to chew on.

> Majko Kruzeto, signing off.