I’ve found a suitable spot, but this is not the most pressing news of the day.

The Germans have invaded America. There wages a battle in the sea around Manhattan, a battle well documented by telegram direct from the American government, and one that goes on unhidden from us. How could it be? America exists and maintains the ability to defend itself; the Americans are no friends of Germany and now never will be.

Charles writes of the frontline between the forces of evil - Ashcroft and Isha - and the keepers of the diary - now myself, alone. This line has been drawn back to America’s eastern coast.

Now, more than ever, there must be no trace of my location whatsoever. I will find one lumberman, one alone, to apprentice under, learn enough to set up the cabin and gather food efficiently, then kill him.

I hope the trail Charles has left is little enough as to be untraceable to me. My hope is close to hopeless. Nonetheless I have to believe it. My master must die. First, I must find him.