Sadly, disaster came to us before we could finish our work. An accident caused our supply of Fuel Gel to explode, sending fire to the sky and exposing our position. It was not long before a Primal war band saw the great fire, and rushed to attack. Without a way to power my great Mogenars, I had no way to defend myself from their assault.
Fleeing would only drive them to pursue us to no end, and they would show no mercy to either one of us once caught. I had no other choice except to stand my ground while the prophetess fled to safety. With her I sent my records of the past, in hopes they would both find sanctuary.
You now read my last words, etched in stone and placed by the prophetess. We speak to you from beyond the grave, to plead with you... Save our world from the starborne plague. Lift the veil of hate from the eyes of our people. May our remaining relics serve you well in this struggle.