The Scavenger brood encroaches, and I fear we have backed ourselves into certain doom.

Since we sought refuge in this temple, I have tried countless times — and failed just as many — to access the mysterious chamber below. It's as if the Ancients built it for someone beyond mortal, someone born of another purpose.

How can I accept my fate when my faith wavers with every knock, every bump in the night?
I am not meant to enter the chamber. I am meant to suffer a cruel death at the hands of those savages. What a bitter end for the faithful... what a waste of prayer.