Times of yore have repeated upon mine flesh, as another harbringer took attention of my body and decided to conscript it for furthering his own interests in the midst of a divine fight.

Just as in yore, I have resolved the task at hand swift and promptly. Worrying, for this determines the persistence of the evil within mine, which has been manifest during this contract.

A maiden with a child that hath been rescued, despite they had no knowledge of the peril they faced, nor they sought any sort of protection. They were weak, and it was rather easy to leave them unconscious, stuffed into a box, and dragged through half the city, away from the hands of petty brigands whomst preyed upon them and their storage.

I became particularly worried by the parallels by maiden and child in the desert. Just like them, woman and kid, forcefully taken by my hand, the later to be also threatened and pushed into a box, albeit these were to find worse destinies that the woman that in this contract we were tasked to protect.

I tell myself that this was for the best, for we minimised any deaths derived from such affair, and both maiden and child's safety was ultimately assured. Yet I can't help but notice the parallels with the actions of yore, and how instinctively these were performed. 'Tis is clearly the best evidence that evil remains within me, and the atonemt performed until now is, and most likely shall be unable to erase it for it may have become and overtaken me.

Atonement or punishment. Both are fair and neccesary. Halaita.

I have returned to work at the orphanage. Situation continues to be harsh, but my labour remains continued and unimpeded, for lest at least good come from the vessel of dark that my body has become.

There is one thing that was highlightable form these two weeks, being another man from the orphanage, whom in his sin, saw himself be rotten inside by small cherubs that came to strike the sinner in the name of his gluttony, a shameful affair. Taking pose of combat, I was able to see that the passage of time and penance had not hindered the capacity of my body to kill, to murder, to fight.

A worrying revelation for I reside within a vessel particularly skilled towards violent affairs. Maybe even specialized in such affairs. I worry, for can a weapon plant the seeds of concord? Can such a weapon be safe within the orphanage?

During the riots at the city center, I hit a young man. I hoped to deter him and his cliques from attacking me, yet I appear to have done him, unkowingly, way more injury than I intended. I fear I am unable to control a body that yearns for his single purpose.