|Title||A Theory on Our "Death"|
|Date||November the 1st, 1909|
Transcript: Comstock has sabotaged our contraption. Yet, we are not dead. A theory: we are scattered amongst the possibility space. But my brother and I are together, and so, I am content. He is not. The business with the girl lies unresolved. But perhaps there is one who can finish it in our stead.
Location: In the bedroom of Lutece Labs, next to the nightstand.