Day 452:
I'm the last man of my battalion alive, rations have run out and I've been eating the corpses of my men, the field is filled with terror, their voices echo throughout every corner, many building surround us for cover, but their chant haunts me, it pulsates my skull with every word, it's turning me into one of them, I'm losing myself"
-from the personal log books of the construction workers of the 'it's a small world after all' ride.