I read your words more than once. Not because I didn’t understand them, but because I needed to be sure you meant them. You always sound certain on the page, even when I know you’re tearing yourself apart to get there.

I don’t like your plan. You already know that, I’ve never been good at hiding it. It asks you to carry something no one should have to become, and it asks the rest of us to live with what that turns you into. But I stayed. Not because I believe in the shape you’re choosing to wear, but because I believe in you beneath it. Someone has to.

If you are going to stand as a symbol of absolute power, then let me be the reason you remember what it’s for. Not dominance. Not fear. Protection. Ending things so others don’t have to repeat them. I will carry the fire, even if I don’t agree with the way you’re using the storm.

Whatever you become out there, know this wasn’t blind loyalty. It was trust, chosen, difficult, and real. And no matter how divided you feel about us, about what we stand for, I’m still here. I’ll see this through. For you. For them.

- TB

___

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. There’s a good chance I’ll tear it up before I let you climb, or shove it into my pocket and say all of this to your face instead, because some things feel wrong when they’re quiet and written down.

I know what you’re doing. I’ve known since the moment you stopped talking about after. And I hate that you think your only choices are to die fighting them or to become them. I hate that you’re already apologizing, like you’ve decided my grief is unavoidable and acceptable. It isn’t. But I also know arguing won’t stop you.

If this ends up on the ground instead of in your hands, then hear it anyway: I don’t forgive you in advance, and I don’t condemn you either. I’m still here. I’ll still stand with you until you step out of reach. After that, I’ll do what you asked. I’ll save our people. Not because you told me to, but because that was always the point.

I hope I get the chance to say this to you instead of leaving it behind. I hope you turn around, just once. But if you don’t, if this is the last thing I leave unsaid, then know I saw you. I knew who you were before the tower, before the symbol, before the weight. And that’s the version of you I’m carrying forward, whether you like it or not. I lo-

[Rest of note is cut off and covered with blood]

___

I addressed him as Torchbearer at first. Habit, perhaps. Or denial. He corrected me immediately, not with anger, but with certainty. He said that name no longer applied. He insisted on Corpsebearer. I will respect that here, if only for accuracy.

Reanimation was successful. Again, that word feels insufficient, but the result is undeniable. Corpsebearer returned without resistance, without confusion, without the disorientation I have come to expect from those pulled back across that boundary. There was no searching for breath, no panic. Awareness settled into him smoothly, as if death had been an interruption rather than an ending.

The differences between him and the one who carried the fire before are stark. Torchbearer was driven by motion- escape, freedom, breaking lines that had been drawn too tightly. Corpsebearer does not value freedom in the same way. He speaks of Vialism not as a doctrine to endure, but as a structure to uphold. Order comforts him. Containment makes sense to him. Where Torchbearer resisted the cycle, Corpsebearer accepts it as necessary, even righteous.

His abilities have changed accordingly. Projections no longer leave the body. There is no separation, no out-of-body displacement. Instead, his influence bleeds into sleep. Dreams bend around him. Subjects report recurring imagery, guided thoughts, a sense of being taught rather than invaded. He does not force awareness, he plants it. I find this more effective. I also find it unsettling.

Our connection has shifted. With Torchbearer, there was tension, pushback, argument, fire against command. With Corpsebearer, there is alignment. He listens closely. He responds precisely. Sometimes before I speak. It is difficult to tell where instruction ends and agreement begins.

Conclusion: Corpsebearer is not a continuation of Torchbearer. He is a correction. Death did not weaken him, it clarified him. His loyalty to Vialism over freedom makes him stable, predictable, and deeply dangerous. Continued observation is required, though I am increasingly aware that observation is no longer one-sided.

- Father Nova

___

...