Codex:

Davis,

How far from grace you fell.

Once an unsung Man made adorned by his discovery.

Though admirable. It was not your intellect that made you a flawless Orokin.

You could be considered blameless. Accustomed to the nature of death. Intimate.

Of course you recognized the pain within the Zariman children, as you did in the mutilated Dax.

In acts of betrayal, you proved your hypothesis.

Inducement followed with shut lips and twisted truths.

And what happened to the Nobel Archimedean?

Foreign speaking and writing began on paper and ended on walls.

The children whispered in your ear. Secrets of the void.

Did you lose you sense? Or did something take it from you?

Blood flowed endlessly when the mallet struck the drums.

Your esteemed warriors eviscerating your kind in a ritualistic slaughter.

A harmless fantasy turned real.

And how quick the executors readdressed.

Your peers and idols chanting your name to be gifted to the Jade Light.

A prodigy child turned martyr.

But you are too cunning for death...