UsernameEmailRegionInterestAOL IMICQ IDYahoo! IDMSN IDJabber

Dinadan rolls out of bed again, but this time with a purpose. Though it'd be a lie to say he's not shaken. Part of him worries that it's some kind of trick, that reading the diary is going to be what brings this end about -- but most of him is too worried that not reading it will mean exactly what the dream says it will. His gut says "read", so that's what he's going to do. If that's the wrong answer, well, he hopes his friends can stop him.

He runs down the hall and half-falls down the stairs, gripping the end of the banister with both hands so that he can turn to the labs without slamming into a wall. Down that hall and through the doors, around a bench and off in a corner, there's his prize. He fumbles the fume hood open with trembling fingers, extracting the diary and clasping it to his chest with trembling hands. He hoists himself up onto a tabletop, flicks on a light, and begins to read.