I still remember the music. It's not the flashes and whirls of the other memories, the forgotten ones, but a single, whole piece, a record without interruption, recollecting the entire scenario. And it's all mine. I hear the symphony, playing within my mind, such sweet music now trapped within the walls of my head forever. My victory has allowed me to grow, and now I am, once more, more.

The forgotten memories feel more vivid, my connection to them stronger and yet, I still cannot truly recall them. The feeling of power that flows through me has grown, the seeping energies that drove others away that much thicker, more viscous as they circulate throughout my body. I can feel it pooling, gathering into a swamp of toxicity and decay, seeping through my pores and into the world, blocked only by the chains of my own will upon them. And I can set it free at will. It takes time for the pool to grow, almost a full day for my reservoir to gather enough that I may use it, but I can set it free to enact my will. A dark hand, formed of death itself, that tears through the air and decays flesh and stone with equal ease, though my current tests have been limited to small garden rocks and trees within the local forest. I can feel them, in the back of my mind, waiting to be set free, bargains to be upheld, power to be gained. It shall be mine.

So, I, uh, I've had some time to calm down after the stress of the whole... Errand. It was a, uh, an experience, for sure. I, uh, I think I might be traumatised now, I tried to go into the basement to grab something when I got home and, well, and I sort of had a panic attack. Yeah, this is not a good time to be me right now.

But! But but but but, I got a new, well, a new power. The Miasma, the stuff I've been calling up for the death hand? It's more... more reactive, now. When I get hit, bump into a wall, that sort of stuff, it forms a, well, a sort of protective layer around me. It's good for a few hits, but after a little while it starts to get worn thin, sort of, so I'm not sure if I should count on it or not. I'm gonna keep the kevlar surcoat, at least for now, if for nothing else then for how awesome it looks, but I should hopefully be safe from any... repeat incidents. I, uh, I'm not sure how to bring up therapy with mom and dad without them locking me in my room for the rest of my life, maybe I can look into options when I go to college? In fact, yeah, note to self, look into therapy options when you get to college.

I, uh, I hope this doesn't end up being a trend, I'd like to go through one of those without something horrfically traumatising happening.

It has dawned on me, as of late, that I have kept rather poor records of those I work together with. I have grown to find these circumstances... intolerable. The diversity of my co-workers and their powersets is fascinating, and worthy of study, yes, but I have also learned that I must analyse their personalities, for my own benefit in the future, as well as for my research.

I shall begin with my latest group of colleagues, Chip, Xaver, and of course, Kerri.

Chip: I was unable to learn much about him during our encounters, brief as they were, only that he seemed personable and possessed the charisma to rally a group of scared civilians into a cohesive, and even loyal, whole. Until I meet him again, this is probably the most I will be able to learn.

Xaver: This one struck me as rather weak-willed. He caved fairly easily to offers of bribery, and actively avoided conflict, though when his friend Kerri was in danger, he was the one to propose we rescue her. I am unsure if this loyalty is something he shows to all he considers a friend, or if he has some strong personal connection to Kerri herself. He seems to possess some degree of skill in medicine, acting as a paramedic during our job together, though I did not observe any supernatural feats of skill.

Kerri: The most blatantly supernatural of my colleagues during the job, setting aside any personal biases from the events themselves (refer to previous log), Kerri strikes me as a strong-willed and independant individual. Where her friend Xaver easily gave in to the allure of money, she seemed actively offended by the suggestion, and even seemed to develop a dislike for me in particular for my attempts to use my finances as a bludgeon. Notably, she herself was perfectly fine with doing so, indicating a degree of hypocrisy. On a personal level, I suspect she is just a Gremlin. Her powers, such as I observed, are a strange form of Pyrokinesis, using a laser pointer, where she causes flames to turn into a cat and chase the laser. I lack the information to conclude whether this is purely psychological from her end (fire into cat, cats chase laser pointers, she can direct the cat with a laser pointer) or if she legitimately is turning fire into cats, and their behaviour is genuinely as catlike as she wants us to believe.

Following the events of my latest outing, I thought it prudent to begin my log with my truthfully rather shockingly mundane co-workers, though I must confess, our task was brief enough that I consider it likely that they simply did not feel the need to exert any kind of supernatural capability, especially as, from my previous observations, my fellows seem to find these abilities as tiring to use as I myself do.

Jimmy: Hyper, excitable, approximately my age, Jimmy is, by all accounts, a rather mundane teenager, albeit one probably suffering from some form of ADHD. In terms of skill, he seemed rather adept at displays of agility and dexterity, useful capabilities, to be certain.

Rick: An older gentleman, given to prolonged discussion of his children (Possible weakness for future? Look into exploiting, in case of conflict). Seemed personable, and engaged in a prolonged discussion with others while working, a useful skill for information gathering, and is also in possesion of a shotgun, a valuable tool which should not be overlooked.

Of note, following the completion of the job, it was my decision that it would be prudent to work on my, admittedly lackluster, physique. From my observations and recorded data, it seems that I have previously underestimated the benefits of excercise for one pursuing my interests. Over the course of the past several weeks, my physical strength and endurance has markedly improved, from somewhat just below average to a decent degree above. While certainly not a superhuman level of strength, I feel much more confident in my capabilities in future jobs, as well as interest in how exactly my body has been altered by the deals I've made.

Neil's log, number 14. I have developed a new ability, following my last task. Not the one I'd hoped for, but one I suspect would have come in handy. I am now capable of storing the dead in a sort of pocket dimension, created from my miasma, providing me a ready source of material in the event no corpses are nearby for my purposes. I am, unfortunately, limited to small things, at most maybe a small child, but that has simply forced me to get... creative, with my choice of minion. A crow or an eagle may not be as dangerous as a man with a gun, but the utility of aerial units is quite invaluable. A set of cameras and I have my own, magically animated, drones.

As for my encounters, I suppose I shall get the most recent ones out of the way for now.

Miss Sally May - utilised sex appeal quite heavily, I suspect she works either in the entertainment or sex industries in her day to day. Seemed reasonably capable outside of her field of expertise, and demonstrated some kind of minor healing capability, which reduced my suffering by a moderate degree following my injury, though, I must note, did not negate it.

Jimmy - seemed largely absent-minded during most of the job, participating with only brief sentences when prompted, somewhat athletic. I hope that, in any future encounters, he proves more proactive.

Polamedes - despite his rather unique name, which I suspect may be an alias, he did not display and significant skills or abilities, and was removed rather quickly. Either he is not particularly capable, or he was simply unfortunate enough to be placed in a position where he could not display his skills. At the very least, I can use him as a cautionary tale.

Following my previous errand, I have developed yet another method of sensing the lingering Death in an area. This time, however, rather than spreading out my sixth sense, it results in a more short-lived, focused variant, one which I can use to read the traces of Death on my fellow man, or indeed, any other sapients I encounter. While remarkably useful, as well as subtle enough to go undetected by the unwary, it comes with the unpleasant downside of needing time to build up and concentrate the energy, lest it be dispersed in the fashion of my wider range sensory capability. Still, the detail alone is... remarkable. I suspect I may even be able to trace the lingering energy to the spirits of a persons victims, with enough time and effort, a remarkable breakthrough for my craft.

As for my notes on my latest co-workers, I present the following

Tracy: Female, early to mid twenties. I am unsure if she was actually one of my co-workers, or simply a mundane woman who managed to tag along. She displayed no supernatural capabilities, was rather unremarkable in terms of skill, displayed a willingness to cooperate with authorities uncharacteristic of my fellows, and, most damning of all, had a genuine connection to the case at hand, something I do not believe I have ever seen among my fellows before, outside of general moral principles and personality. Still, I shall keep an eye out in the future

Polamedes: Male, early Forties. My second encounter with him, Polamedes demonstrated mediocre social skills but a useful degree of intellect during the job. He possesses some form of enhanced skill with technology, managing to hack into several different devices, including a car, from a distance, as well as some form of protective barrier

Chip: Male, looks to be approximately in his twenties. Socialite, seemingly supernaturally so, with a propensity for criminal action. Managed to talk a man into selling us his truck in the middle of nowhere. Decently skilled driver, served as getaway driver for the rest of the team during... the incident. I suspect he was the priest we first met at the airport, given how the man vanished the moment Chip showed up, but cannot prove it. As such, I shall document them as separate individuals for the moment.

Father Moore: Male, middle-aged or older. A priest who showed up at the very beginning of the job, then vanished seemingly the moment Chip appeared out of nowhere, following the crash. Demonstrated no supernatural powers during his brief time with us, and behaved in a manner I would generally expect from a normal priest when confronted with my craft. May be hostile during next encounter.

Crane: Male, approximately my age from appearance. A second tech-savvy individual, much like Polamedes, though with more tech skill and a great deal less sense. Tried to grab onto Tracy while falling out of a plane, after having dropped his parachute. Can turn into a cloud of dust, which he can use to slip through crevices past typical security measures. Demonstrated some form of telekinetic ability strong enough to lift himself during the fall. Repeatedly bragged about his "Hacking skills".

Despite the oddness of my previous job, the sheer mundanity that permeated most of it has left me with nothing to study or contemplate in the days and weeks following, no new thread of mystic workings to unravel or anything of the sort, so here is my follow-up log for the month. I took up wood-working. That is the most interesting thing that has happened to me. Truthfully, I worry I am developing thrill-seeker tendencies from all the danger I regularly put myself through, but it will be worth it in the end, I know it deep down inside.

My notes on my recent acquaintance:

Daisuke Aino: A Super Sentai Actor from some show or other, truthfully, the genre never interested me. He seems to possess some sort of pocket dimension or other means to conceal a full-sized sword on his person, but lacks the competence to know when is a good time to whip it out, as it were. Should we ever come to blows, a simple ambush should be enough to deal with him, though I cannot account for whatever else he may have hidden up his sleeve.

I've done it. Finally, after all my research, all the empowerments from my work, I have forged a permanent bond for a dead thing in the land of the living. I call this creation of mine a "Shadow Steed", a sub-sapient spirit bound to a gemstone, worked so that, when the spirit is called, it emerges in the form of a pure black horse. The lack of intelligence means the phantasms has a tendency to simply stand still, not even needing to breath, and it is more a tool of convenience, but it is, for the most part, a success! I am now capable of maintaining the presence of a dead spirit indefinitely! The possibilities already call out to me, spectral servants, an army of loyal, undying soldiers, power far beyond what most can imagine, all for me!

For now, though, my progress remains stagnant. The same boon that accelerates my learning prevents me from further progressing in my research without first completing another job for the higher powers. No matter, whatever is asked, I have seen proof that my goal can be achieved. No more stumbling in the dark, the answer is within sight, I must simply reach out, and grasp it.

Following my prior job, a brief intervention by my legal team proved to be enough to dissuade and issues with law enforcement, on my end at least, and I was free to return to my experiments. And oh, what results I have achieved.

I have not sat idle on my recent acquisitions. Following my obtainment of the Phoenix Feather some time back, I have been able to delve into what I previously deemed forays too risky to attempt. Case in point, Self-Necromancy. Before, any attempt at using my magic on my mortal flesh would have been a near-suicidal prospect, the risk of withering my body to dust too great to even consider such, despite the theoretical advantages, with the feather, though? Even should the worst come to pass, all could be undone. I was not going in blind, either. Rituals, spirits, undead creatures of all kinds, these I have witnessed many times before, several times I have been able to study the proper structures for such a procedure up close, all I needed was an anchor. And so I made one. Even as I speak, my heart, formerly a red, fleshy organ buried within my chest, has been altered, its exterior calcified, the blood inside congealing, even as it is transported throughout my body. The one thing keeping me alive is the magic I have infused it with, transforming the withered husk it has become into a solid anchor for my soul on the mortal plane. So long as I can access sufficient necromantic energies, my soul can restore my body even after death. I am, barring the destruction of my anchor, my Phylactery, as the official terminology is, I am Immortal.

Encounters:

Felix Law: having encountered him before, he was a somewhat familiar figure. I did not learn too much more about him aside from his financial struggles this time, as he was mostly relegated to decoy duty.

Beth Metal, AKA Lisa: Apparently operates under a pseudonym, a good tactic I would use if I weren't already so recognisable, and possesses some form of banshee screech, capable of knocking a man out cold. Her ears possess something of a point, and while I would not rule out Gen-Wyld modifications, I suspect that she possess some form of supernatural heritage, or augmented hearing, that relates to her screech. Closer observation advised.

Following my previous job, I appear to have come into a disagreement with one of my co-workers. Nikolai, as they were going by at the time, took offense with my use of live rabbits as bait, and truthfully, I do not see their point of view. Most places consider rabbits vermin, and they have a tendency to breed out of control and damage the ecosystems of wherever they end up, so I am inclined to agree, but apparently, even at our current level, some people just cannot stand seeing fluffy bunnies be harmed.

Maria/Nikolai?: A Shapeshifter capable of wholly mimicking another person through the use of a strange device, which is also operable by others. Side-effects include an urge to chase after and hunt small animals (I have succeeded in getting this under control with a degree of therapy, but it was not a pleasant experience). Apparently an animal lover, as they reacted poorly to the treatment of live rabbits as bait during the course of the job. Socially adept, a dangerous combination with their shapeshifting, but when negotiations broke down, they responded poorly, yelling "fuck you" at the top of their lungs and leaping out a window. Possible vulnerability?

Gideon: Displayed Telekinetic abilities, skill in swordsmanship, and access to and knowledge of how to use anaesthetic drugs. Managed to jury rig an explosion as a distraction using their telekinetic powers, botched as the execution may have been by outside factors. In possession of an odd sword that was able to cut through glass, actual comparisons to a typical sword pending.