𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛

20ᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ.
          
          ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛᴏʀ's ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴀʟ;
          
          Seven days,precisely. . .
          
          A week,if we would choose to refer to terrestrial measures,has passed.
          
          I have scanned and explored the area,if it is even correct to call it that,countless times. Incessantly and thoroughly. Yet,I seem to be picking up no signs of life.
          
          The Seven are becoming desperate.
          
          I must confess,so am I.
          
          I have studied and learnt from humans as they pitifully cling to a sole concept they call 'hope'. Thus far,I have struggled to believe in latter mentioned.
          
          'Hope' is not factual.
          
          But as of now,I have but that to grasp.
          
          If I fail to find 'it',the outcome will be fatal.

16ᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ.
          
          ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛᴏʀ's ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴀʟ;
          
          After a lengthy sequence of efforts,I have managed to bring my communicator back on. Presently,no errors have occured so I believe it is safe to say,the communicator is working properly for now.
          
          Very well.
          
          Today marks the third day of. . .our absence.
          
          We presume time outside of the void progresses quicker than inside of it. Therefore,remaining in such an unstable zone for longer than it is absolutely necessary might cause some unfortunate incidents we did not take into account.
          
          An explosion took place,just as we,the Seven have already calculated it,resulting in the majority of objects being absorbed into some sort of. . .
          
          Dimensional gateway.
          
          Notwithstanding,a few of us are still stuck inside,including myself.
          
          I am uncertain of how long will I be required to,linger in this mass of nothingness,but I shall uncover my. . .our subject's current location and bring 'it' back harmlessly at all cost.
          
          'It' is momentous to the Seven.

After minor adjustments,the communicator seems to be back on.

Reduced to 0.

0110010101110010011100100110111101110010

Another attempt was made.

It was nothing but crackling.
          
          His communicator ran into an error.
          
          Soon to be repaired.

Containing The Zero Point has been nothing but a chain of failures.
          
          Only now,the result appears to be irreversible.
          
          I. . .
          
          You. . .
          
          We are trapped in the aftermath.

Such an outcome was certainly not calculated.

The End is drawing near.
          
          Warnings have been sent out to all residents of the island,as far as he is aware.
          
          Displaying on nearly all of the televisions across the area,each timer would tick until it reached;
          
          00:24:00:00.
          
          That was it. That little time he had left back to place everything in order and make this work,for once and for all.
          
          Make the most of it.
          
          Will it be a success or an utter failure,again,like all his previous attempts were?
          
          Will he manage to finish what he. . .them has once started?
          
          The pressure,the burden weighing on his shoulders was enormous.
          
          Although he intended to make minor precautions and adjustments today,there seemed to be a lot on his mind,driving him further and further away from being effective.
          
          Instead,he found temporary peace in letting his fingers tap monotonously upon the surface of his table.
          
          No matter,he couldn't distract his thoughts from the upcoming event.
          
          But,at times like these,there should not be any room for doubts,and that much he knew. Yet,he couldn't be helped.
          
          He was on the edge. Upset,agitated. It was almost a humanly feeling,he suspected.
          
          After a rather lengthy pause in his actions,his hand found the recorder he previously placed on his table,merely to hesitantly press a button upon it.
          
          The recorder gave a short and ever so soft beep,indicating the start of its recording,but only after a sigh and a recollection of thoughts had he managed to find his will to speak.
          
          〝Attempt number seven. . .〞