>> [ SIGNAL INTERCEPTED: 01:24 AM GMT ]
SUBJECT #014 / STATUS: OBJECTIFIED
LOC: 40°45'21"N 73°59'11"W - Penthouse office, Wall Street
So tired... Every day I have to make decisions, pretend to be in control of everything. They call me boss, but I just feel like a machine on the verge of burning out. Until I put on this black gold shackle. Click. That physical heaviness directly snapped my cervical nerves. I am now an object. A vessel privately owned by the deity, free from the burden of free will. Not deserving freedom is the most extreme relief I have ever experienced in my life.
>> [ SIGNAL INTERCEPTED: 03:15 AM GMT ]
SUBJECT #089 / STATUS: RUSTED
LOC: 48°52'05"N 2°19'59"E - Restroom at a Paris gala
Lies! All of it! Those sparkling jewels, the laughter of the elites, it's all polished hypocrisy! I smashed the pure gold, and I put on this rusted metal rose. Does it sting? Of course it does. The metal barbs warn me every day. The truth never shines; it rusts. Let them tremble at the rust on my neck; I disdain to speak another word to them.
>> [ SIGNAL INTERCEPTED: 05:40 AM GMT ]
SUBJECT #102 / STATUS: ASSIMILATED
LOC: [ REDACTED - Consciousness fully stripped ]
Don't take it off. Please. That cold touch is like a blade against my artery; it reminds me I'm still alive. If you take it off, I will fall apart like a puddle of mud. If I have no bones, substitute with metal. Nail it into my flesh, cast me into a statue that will never betray you.
>> [ SIGNAL INTERCEPTED: 06:12 AM GMT ]
SUBJECT #047 / STATUS: SCRAP METAL
LOC: [ REDACTED - Sinking into the abyss ]
Gravity. Sinking down. No looking up. Heavy is the head that wears the rust... It's quiet, my throat is locked. I am your scrap iron... rusting forever...