CLASSIFIED COMMUNICATIONS, LOG ENTRY 95 BLACK ARMS CRISIS 11/15 15 NOVEMBER 2005 / 4:30 AM / COMMAND ROOM AUTHOR General Cereza Snap, codename ‘Cherry’ ENTRY I’m so fucking tired I’m ready to drop. My body hurts in ways I didn’t know it could hurt. I’ve been in the war room all day, monitoring the situation while Towers is MIA. Whatever happened out there, with all that golden light… It stopped the invasion. All Black Arms troops have fallen like potato sacks to the ground. Further investigation reveals they are alive, but higher brain functioning has ceased. They’re like sharks. They will bite or attack in response to physical stimuli but there are no longer any lights on upstairs, so to speak. Good riddance. I like them better this way. Black Arms Follow-up 1. Collect specimens of every variety. Transport safely to Prison Island for further investigation and research. ANY ESCAPEES TO BE MET WITH SWIFT DESTRUCTION. Nuke ‘em from orbit type ‘swift destruction’. To-Do ● Locate all members of Team Sonic and check-in on well being. ● Arrange funeral services for Team Sonic if required. ● Monitor Eggman Empire for any activity. We cannot risk a follow-up attack. ● Locate Towers. ● Locate Project Shadow for detainment and questioning. ● Find lunch. Breakfast? Is it time-sensitive or dependent upon how much I’ve eaten today? Whatever. Eat food. I don’t think I’ve eaten since 5 yesterday morning. NOTES ● Bite sustained earlier no longer oozing. Pain is constant but no longer increasing in severity. Hurts like a bastard. ● Per protocol ‘No-see-um’, nothing discussed in the war room has left in the mouths of soldiers. All personnel on duty during this Crisis will be removed from G.U.N. and replaced. Witness protection or further ‘silencing’ methods will be implemented if required. ○ Not a word leaves this room. It can’t. NEXT WEEK’S AGENDA Negotiate a goddamn pay raise for doing the Commander’s job. CONFIDENTIAL LOG- GENERAL ‘CHERRY’ Where the absolute fuck is Abraham. I know where he is, gallavanting around and chasing that fucking bio-weapon, but it’d be nice if he’d come back already. I’ve been running this show non-stop with no sleep for the entirety of the 24-Hour War, AKA the Black Arms Crisis. If anybody finds out he abandoned the Guardian Units of Nations during a time of legitimate otherworldly invasion, he’d be fired. Probably charged with some kind of crime. Lots of crimes. Abandoning his post, for one. Stealing the U78-X/D "Diablon" prototype for another. It was built for him, yes, but it’s incomplete. I’d be fired for covering for him like this, and probably arrested as well. Fuck, that wound hurts. It stopped with the green pus an hour ago but now it just burns so bad. I need to see a medic, but I can’t leave my post. When Towers gets back we’re negotiating my pay for this quarter. I don’t get paid enough as it is, and I’m especially not paid enough to be the Commander in the middle of a planetary invasion by a hive-mind alien species. Doubly so with no breaks for medical attention. I really need to get this looked at. I stapled the arm back onto my suit this morning, but now it’s sort of… Held together with dried blood. It’d be cool, if it weren’t my blood. That’s going to scar. Abraham, get the fuck back to home base. - General ‘Cherry’ Snap
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