Legionnaire Scout's Report

I know I shame myself with these words, and I do not care. We are trained to stare death in the face without flinching. We have endured death, resurrection, monstrosities, and madness on this island. But I cannot go back to the Ennead. I cannot lead more Romans into this unnatural realm. Each breath was a trial. Even the cobwebs seemed to resent our passage. The shifting walls and silent, staring guardians offered no awe, only a nameless dread. I knew it in my bones: we were being watched, and by something with no love for humans.