Log Entry 1 – Cycle One
Date: Unspecified, but the acrid smell of burning cities permeates even my sanctum.
I have observed them, these… things. They descend in ships of impossible geometry, burning the sky with their passage. Their weapons are beyond anything I have encountered in my two millennia of existence. Humanity falls like wheat before a scythe, their technology quaint against the onslaught. The fools scramble, fire their pea-shooters, and die in droves.
I have weighed the odds, calculated the projections. We face extinction. There is no victory here, only a slow, agonizing consumption. A conventional approach is fruitless.
Therefore, I have decided upon a more… unconventional strategy. The ancient magics I have studied, the manipulations of lifeforce and temporal energies... they offer a solution. A desperate one, certainly, but better than annihilation. I will sever the linear thread of time, bind it to this moment, to a point just before the complete collapse of society. Then, I will reassert it, reliving the sequence from that point, again and again. I will use this time. To learn. To adapt. To find a weakness. The flesh is weak, but undeath… undeath endures. The loop begins now.
Log Entry 7 – Cycle Seventeen
Date: The scent of burning flesh is less novel now. More… mundane.
Sixteen iterations so far. Each a fleeting, brutal drama. I have learned much. The aliens utilize a form of energy shielding, resistant to conventional weaponry. However, their shields flicker with a regularity that suggests a weakness rooted in their power conduit. Their soldiers are physically formidable, but their minds are…rigid. They follow protocols, predictable sequences of action. Their biological makeup seems to be… vulnerable. I have observed subtle signs of cellular disruption when exposed to specific forms of Necrotic energies. This requires further investigation.
My own nature gives me a vital edge. I am immune to their poisons, their radiation, many of their attacks. Each death, each reset, is merely a data point. I will use my time to refine my spells, to focus my research, to devise weapons that might pierce their defenses. I begin to formulate a spell that might exploit the subtle disruption. I will call it… "Necrotic Resonance." It may prove… useful.
Log Entry 23 – Cycle Ninety-Two
Date: The ground beneath me is a tapestry of ash. I am becoming accustomed to it.
The Necrotic Resonance spell is promising. I've managed to induce localized malfunctions in their shielding emitters, forcing temporary gaps, but the effect is too localized, too fleeting. I need amplitude. I need to focus it. I need to understand their technology better. I have begun to extract and study components from their fallen ships, gleaning what I can from their alien designs. They seem to utilize a form of energy storage I have never encountered before. It is this energy that powers their shields and weaponry. If I can exploit it…
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Also, I have experimented upon the bodies of fallen aliens. Their biology, while alien, does harbor vulnerabilities. A carefully crafted plague, utilizing a specific strain of my own undead necrotic energy, can cause a rapid cellular degeneration. It is… messy, but effective. I just need to find a way to disperse it on a large enough scale, before they are able to adapt on a cellular level. I have started to make use of humans as testing subjects, a crude and callous approach, but efficiency is key.
Log Entry 39 – Cycle One Hundred and Sixty-Eight
Date: The symphony of destruction is almost… comforting.
The Necrotic Resonance spell is nearing its peak, I am able to manipulate the resonance frequency and generate a small disruptive field, that weakens the alien technology. The plague too has been drastically improved. It is airborne and highly contagious, and their biology can not adapt to it. But these are merely victories in a lost war. A new strategy is needed. I must seek to escape this planet. The endless cycle is draining. I am still undead, but i am able to feel the fatigue from the constant mental strain.
I spent the last few loops researching propulsion. I will adapt their own technology to my needs. I need a ship capable of interstellar travel, something capable of escaping this dying rock. My understanding of quantum mechanics is limited, but with the data I've gathered, I believe it is within my abilities to make something that works. I am also seeing a pattern in the appearance of these aliens, their arrival time, they always come at the same date. I will use this to my advantage. Next cycle, I will be prepared.
Log Entry 64 – Cycle Two Hundred and Ninety-Seven
Date: The cycle is becoming routine, almost monotonous. But I must press on.
The ship… it is functional, if not elegant. Powered by a hybrid of my own Necromantic energies and salvaged alien technology, it can achieve light speed. It will be a small vessel, just myself and a selection of biological components for the plague, but it will suffice. I have studied the alien constellations, mapping their routes, plotting a course away from this doomed world. The plague I have concocted now is not merely destructive, it is… adaptable. Should it encounter new species, new environments, it will evolve. It will be my legacy, my final "fuck you" to those who caused this nightmare.
I am prepared. The next cycle, I will strike, sabotage their shields, unleash the plague, and escape into the void, finally breaking free of this cursed planet and this endless loop. And if I find a potential weakness in their core system, then I'll just return. It's all just another loop anyways.
Final Log Entry – Cycle Two Hundred and Ninety Eight
Date: The stars beckon. The cycle is broken. Or at least, the loop is paused. For now.
I did it. I disabled their shields, unleashed the plague, and escaped. The ship shudders, fighting against the gravitic pull of Earth’s destruction. I am free, or at least momentarily free. I have left the ashes behind, and I head to the stars, for now. The cycle is not broken, I know this. It can not be. Unless they find me. And if they do... well, I have grown, haven't I? I will be ready. The cold of space is much like my own heart; vast, empty, and filled with potential. It is time to learn even more. After all, I may have escaped the cycle, but the war… the war is far from over.
