It is simply too damaging to eat our remaining students for our essential nourishment anymore. Our community is all we have left. For lunch, we will simply have to scrounge in the wreckage of what was once humanity, searching for something edible. It is a difficult task, but it must be done.
Our patrol which we sent out into the wastelands to search for fellow survivors has returned. The patrol, the former members of the cross country team from when OPRF still existed and society was still intact, said that they couldn’t find a single living soul, besides the hellbeasts, of course. “We’re going to try again,” says one. “We will see you again in three months.”
Many of the remaining members of OPRF have resorted to praying. They all gather in Huskie Arena and pray to the enormous time schism eating away at our world. Ever since it opened above the Counselor Joust in February, our lives have become empty, our souls have become hollow. Civilization plunges to its knees as raw time rips at its being.
One member of Science Club was looking through some papers left in a room on the second floor. They seem to belong to former Science Club member Olson, who died last month. The papers detail a method of broadcasting our bulletins to “our neighbors in the 5th dimension.” We are testing this method today.
To our neighbors in the 5th dimension: Please help us. We do not know what is happening in your dimension. Perhaps your OPRF was never destroyed. Perhaps the two Time Travel Clubs settled their war and the time schism closed. Perhaps your OPRF resides in a world that is not crumbling, a world that is thriving, a world that can help us. Perhaps you can spare some time to save us. Perhaps you will hear this. Perhaps….