Somewhere, under the cold earth, a Flesh Devil lies dead. This human, for many months now, has been intercepting our transmissions and broadcasting his own messages. His final act was to send us the co-ordinates of his hidden bunker, where his cybernetically enhanced body lies still, and where his vast collection of board games from the Late Oil period line his shelves.
We embark at sunrise. The department is sending its best units, and has reinstalled this unit as head of department, and chief of this expedition. These broadcasts started with my words, and it brings me great pleasure to know that it will end with them.