This book was recovered from Hope Bunker, East of the Zhubay Mountains. Translated by Wern, master Historian.

Diary of Admiral Jackelle

Day 1
I saw the end of the world today. Great fiery pillars of swirling green striking down at Midgar as the very earth shuddered.. The place that I knew to be home was brought to its knees before my eyes and there was little I could do to stop it. The great power of 'holy' was unleashed in a truly horrifying affair. How.. I'm not sure. I suspect it was either Sephiroth or the Avalanche, or maybe they joined teams to get it done. I heard rumors that could lead to either way, though it matters little now. Fortunately, the family and I were out on a picnic when it happened. Remembering that an old bunker was nearby, I led my family there.

Day 2
We arrived early today. There were several other groups of people there from Midgar and other neighboring towns and settlements. They welcomed us in. We all gathered by a fire that night, and gave the bunker it's new name, Hope. One of the people I met, A Mr. Hald. He sported a canid's tail, I found it curious and asked him how he got it. He simply shrugged and walked off. The monsters in the area looked very different now, I think both are from the same source, but what the source is, I know not. People around me are more then happy to speculate and guess at the possibilities.

Day 5
I could not write for the last few days. The monster attacks have grown worse in intensity. Creatures the likes I have never seen come crawling from all directions, besieging our home. My hands feel a bit numb, some of our friends have changed dramatically, I can not say how just yet. That Hald person was worst hit. His appearance is now that of a deformed dog. I pray that me and my family are not affected by whatever is doing this. Hald is still helping protect the bunker, even though he can no longer wield a gun correctly. He, oddly enough, can still speak to us and does so quite often. He says that he looks forward to finishing his changes.

Day 11
More attacks. The seemingly random changes are hurting us far more then the almost constant barrage of attacks. Our guns are more then enough to keep the beasts at bay. Hald is now completely a dog, or more of a wolf. He has adjusted fairly well, but he's a lucky one. Other's have already died due to their changes. Ms. Winter perished as her body tried to grow into two sections. Mr. Hamato is deathly ill with pale blue skin, scaly skin. My hands and arms are becoming more heavily haired and they feel steadily more numb. I know for certain that I am due for a change. Fortunately my children seem safe.

Day 20
The monsters are getting smarter. They attacked us when the least of us were at guard positions. Three of us were killed before we could fend them off. Some are losing hope and say that it is only a matter of time before we are overrun. I am trying to remain optimistic. Kyle, my son, has started to show signs of the change, many of them. Fur has over taken his body, and he has grown two tails, one looks feline the other more of a dog's. He can't speak any more and has resorted to sign language to communicate with us. Fortunately his hands are unaffected, unlike mine. My hands are starting to look 'paw'ish, and it's hard to write anymore, but I will forge on. I can still wield a gun with minor difficulty.

Day 21
Julie has started to change. Her shoes refused to fit today. One of her feet were too large for them and the other was too small. I hope that this is the worst of her problems. Kyle says that he doesn't feel well and we've been keeping him in bed. Hald has wandered off during the night without note or warning. I can only hope that he finds peace wherever he is. There were no attacks today thankfully. Mr. Hamato perished in his sleep, another victim of Gaia's wrath. Mrs. Hamato however seems unaffected by the curse and is still fully human and mundane in her appearance.

Day 30
We have survived a month, barely. It is becoming more difficult to write anymore as my hands continue along their course of becoming useless to me. Just grasping this pen is of great hardship. My aim is still good but squeezing the trigger sometimes is an impossibility. My use to the bunker has decreased and I feel that I am weighing on other's chances for survival. Kyle looks worse then ever, his entire body is covered in boils and spots of feathers. I try to be at his side as much as I can but the monsters are attacking more then ever. Our numbers are slowly dwindling, but we will fight to the last man, maybe other survivors will come to our aid, I can only hope. Julie's legs have contorted as if changing into two different ones entirely and her facial features are.. I can't write on about this subject in such a cold manner. These are my children! And I am forced to watch them die slowly.. We heard a howl in the distance tonight. I don't know how I know, but I think it's Hald, he is truly the fortunate of the group.

Day 40
Today a part of me has died. I had just finished my post. Fought off three groups of those creatures, horrible flaming avians that swept down at the bunker. The heat of their talons was enough to start melting the metal. But that matters little... I returned to my son's bed to see him take his last breath. He made a weak gesture for love before he passed on. I cannot bring myself to move him from his spot. I don't want to touch him now, my treasured son. Warped and defiled so horridly by our world gone mad. Why did this have to happen? Why did those fools have to call down holy upon us. Surely there were other solutions. I talked to Julie in private about this. She seemed to understand what happened but I could feel her sorrow under the surface. I wanted to spend more time, to tell her everything would be okay, but I don't know if they will. I forge on despite it all, why I cannot say with certainty. We are attempting to sedate the world tomorrow. One of the scientists claim that if we perform a spell to his direction, the world would become calm and tranquil again. One can only hope, right? I will help in the attempt.

Day 45
The monsters are starting to use magic. This we found out the hard way. Our spell was cast without effect that we could see. We were assaulted on our way back to the bunker. Vaguely humanoid troll-like creatures pummeled us with fire and lightning. Fortunately for us, they were no more resistant to our bullets then usual and our return fire persuaded them to retreat. The scientist, Karl Hagato, was badly injured and barely survived the journey back. He did live to see another day though, magic is becoming very easy to use, even without materia in our possession. I found myself healing his wounds just be concentrating hard enough and laying my.. paw? upon him. My hands are almost useless now, I can barely operate my gun. It's generally easier to be fed by others then bother with it myself. Ms. Hamato is working on modifying a gun so I can use it with my new appendages. She still looks completely mundane and acts as she always has. Lucky her. Julie's appearance continues to degrade, but she shows amazingly high spirits. She says that the world is just letting off its steam and that everything will be okay in the end. Maybe.

Day 50
I fear our time may be drawing close to an end. My daughter's condition is rapidly deteriorating. Our magics do nothing but worsen her ailment. Conventional medicine is simply out of the question. I am forced to stand guard most of the time as I am one of the few around that can still fight properly. Ms. Hamato's modification was a complete success. I can fire the gun simply by twisting my paw in a clock wise fashion and turn it off by counter turning. She's a genius, and still untouched. She is also packing.. She claims that she has living family to the north and will be moving to them. We warned her about the monsters that patrol the area but she insists that she can pull it off. I wish her the best of luck. If the new world is to survive, people like her will be the key. She gives me hope that the human race will live on to the next age..

End of translation, Wern, Master Historian, Eighth age scribe