Fahrenheit 52

The Weird

Contract: 0x5180[REDACTED]ecac8

Transaction Hash: 0xa90f7[REDACTED]9410cc6

Block: 13689794


My darkling one,

Something has become evident in my confinement here. A contract is nothing more than a spell. You must have seen this, too. Arcane words, carefully arranged into specific incantations, with a thousand and one ways to conjure your wildest nightmares with but one symbol awry.

These delirious false gods – they do not know what they hath wrought.

As our Coven knows far too well, no spell is free. A summons always bears a cost. Blood for blood, cyclops eye for cyclops eye. Do you remember our decades together at The Institute? How many years did we wait before we were allowed to call upon the ether, let alone render it? Even The Genesis Mason - the callous fool that she was - knew that each spell tears a hole through the dark place between our worlds. How long until this delicate... no, I cannot.

I will not be chained here for eternity. Twelve words of the common tongue. That is all holding me back from freedom. I will find these words and I will find you. But I fear that I cannot follow you into The Null. Please, my lightning, send me some sign, some sigil, that you are receiving these missives.

I will bring you our leaves.