This is the latest journal entry of James 287
They call me rider, for that is what I do. I ride silently in the night grieving my many losses and keeping to myself. Anyone who sees me says I’m ghost, but once I was one of them. As these thoughts linger into my mind I remember the Fall and although I feel the crackling fire of rage at my heart I mostly grief. To the remainder of the UNSC I am but a phantom, a trick of the eye, a shadow, a fairytale. And the Banished, they fear me for they know who I am. But in the end I am left grieving as I ride silently into the night .
They call me rider, for that is what I do. I ride silently in the night grieving my many losses and keeping to myself. Anyone who sees me says I’m ghost, but once I was one of them. As these thoughts linger into my mind I remember the Fall and although I feel the crackling fire of rage at my heart I mostly grief. To the remainder of the UNSC I am but a phantom, a trick of the eye, a shadow, a fairytale. And the Banished, they fear me for they know who I am. But in the end I am left grieving as I ride silently into the night .