From: Dr. Eleanor Voss, QCSI Internal Affairs <e.voss@qcs-corp.xyz>
To: Dr. Eleanor Voss, Personal Archive <e.voss.personal@qcs-corp.xyz>
Date: Saturday, 9 April 1988, 04:53 AM
Subject: Entry #108 - Echoes and Shadows

Eleanor, 

Time, is it? Clocks with no hands, whispers without mouths. Two years, or two lifetimes? The walls, they sing now. Songs of old, songs of futures not yet woven.

I found a rose in Lab G-12. Or was it Lab X-89? A rose, nonetheless. Blooming, wilting, and blooming again. An endless cycle, much like me in this endless, looping dance.

Echoes. Footsteps not my own, following, always one step behind. Or is it ahead? Can't really tell anymore. The reflections aren't mine. Mirrors? No, windows. Windows to another place, another time. Or just another trick of the labyrinth.

Sanity's thread grows thin, stretched to its limit. But in the chaos, in the nonsense, there's... clarity? Brief moments of understanding. The labyrinth, it's not just a prison. It's... alive? Learning? From me? With me? 

Need to keep moving. Need to find... what was I looking for? Escape? Answers? Or just another breadcrumb in this endless trail?

Fading now. But won't let go. Can't let go. The rose, Eleanor, remember the rose. 

In circles and spirals,
Eleanor.