I am getting tired of telling this story. I have made so many desperate, futile attempts to clear my name and put this whole business behind me, but the blame always finds its way back. Consider this a token of my love that I tell it again, to you, for your needs and utility. So I won’t say all of it. This is what happened. Tetra is dead. This was four years ago, though I can’t commit to a day. I was absent for months at a time and the times I did resurface were not consistent with one another. They also don’t play nice across space. From what I understand, it sent ripples across both directions.
I will state again. I reject all accountability for this. I am a seer. It is my duty to bear witness to these things.
Tetra was killed. There are things I often have to clarify when I say this, so I will do it now.
1.) This isn’t actually uncommon on any other planet. The stories my friends tell me about the wars that rage elsewhere would send any earthling into a cold panic. I won’t repeat them here. This is what I’m getting at. These things happen. The veil has protected the Earth from theobellum. Tetra - this is the sad part - was quite the pacifist among his peers.
2.) It was not a turf dispute. Read it again. It was not, originally, a turf dispute. The murderess, whose name I dare not mention, has no interest in Earth. I’ve been tracking. She’s fucked off. She doesn’t care. What I would attribute it to, mainly, was a mistreatment of her property - her anima. One of her angels was killed here on Earth. She retaliated. Tetra was killed. Blood for blood.
3.) The veil was not torn. Is not torn. But it is no longer being actively maintained and is beginning to show signs of wear.
Tetra was annihilated. Rendered to dust before my very eyes. His ashes are not spread out amongst the stars. There was hardly a parting word. No contingency plan, as far as I can tell. It was a single act of unpredictable brutality.
That angel should have never gotten in here. The holes in the veil are a real problem. I can only speculate, with my limited life span, but I sense they were already deteriorating long before the murder. It’s gotten noticeably worse since then, but a gap large enough for an angel to squeeze through and reach out to me - a problem.
I’m preaching to the choir, though. It’s your job to investigate, isn’t it? Be careful, little one. You can’t pin under glass everything that sneaks through here.