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Four years since The Master passed and  I assumed his place.
Four years since The Sacrifice  should have been made.  Four
years since I talked to another.

It was, of course, only The Master I could talk with since I
was offered up as The Sacrifice at age six (or maybe five?).
Naturally,  if we ever found ourselves within the earshot of
the penitent we had to stay mum,  but ever so often we would
find ourselves in The Engine Room, The Hall of The Computer,
or some other area too vile for the penitent to approach and
on those happy occasions we could free ourselves of the bur-
den of silence.  And even though our newfound freedom lasted
no more than an hour or so,  it was enough to sustain  us in
high spirits for weeks after.

It has been four years since The Master died.  As a rule, it
it would be no more than a month before the new Sacrifice is
made. Damnation! - it has been four years and the chance for
having The Sacrifice is still as slim as ever.  It has taken
a great toll.  I could feel my mind slowly slipping away and
a devilish (and daring) plan started to develop.   I started
to think the unthinkable - I wanted to speak to The Outside.

There are a few relics that survived The Purification. Cent-
uries passed  and the line of the masters kept them safe and
their existence hidden. I don't know why they did it ( why I
now do it); I don't think they knew themselves. (Could it be
the relics are destined to serve a great purpose and deliver
us from our endless suffering?) Among them there is OCC ( or
OEC or QEC -  what seems to be  the marking of the name have
faded almost entirely), or at least a part of it.  Connected
to The Computer it allows for messages to be sent (and it is
said it allowed messages to be received!) to The Outside, to
the void that envelops us. I have struggled from months with
temptation to use it and ease my burden. Today I have succu-
mbed. I have transgressed - there is no going back.  Whether
it works or not (whether I sinned in action that is), I have
gravely sinned in though and speech...

Or maybe I am blameless?  Maybe the relic was destined to be
used again? Maybe I'm an instrument of God's will?! Or maybe
I'm looking to justify my action when no justification is to
be found...  Whatever is the case -  there is no going back.
I have transgressed.  At least I feel  as if a  great burden
has been lifted...

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