Westfield, here we come!

Ariadna came for her last visit to Lady's River in a few days. She spoke with emphasis, her gaze lost, from time to time a subtle grin crossed her face, and her eyes widened as she hurled accusations at some and others.

I thought we had already agreed on the reason for what was happening, from the time of our trip together to the Great City, but something had made her rage, and I don't think it was the stalkers.

It is true that he had given me details about some situations that I did not know. But he had also revealed to me the real reason behind the stalkers.

A girl wrote in a newspaper with a large circulation some slander about our group as a response (comment) to an article presenting an event. She had been dumped by her lover, and in her rage, she found no other way to vent her resentment than to bring us false accusations. The Stalkers dedicated themselves to getting her justice.

All these circumstances in January took place in the context in which a common acquaintance had mental problems. I found out only then, in the Great City, on January 10. And when on the way to the Great City, on January 23, I asked Ariadna about what happened to her colleague, she assured me that she was fine, that she was under the care of the psychiatrist who cured her. At which he put his hand on the phone and called someone, on which occasion he mentioned him.

I don't want to reveal details, I'm a fan of the privacy of my personal life - but all these things, (A. and O.), I already told you both on the phone - and as it's clear now that it was stolen from us by the services, I keep my promise - I'm transcribing everything I talked about. The services are asked to be scandalized and send us the exact transcript, lest we want to distort the meaning of what was said. Or at least friends from telephone services.

Ariadne, pressed by the stress they created for her, began to threaten that she does not forgive (what?) - throwing a: "madhouse" at us.

He brought to my attention again the comment of the person in question, emphasizing the vulgarity of the language, and I replied:

- I'm not interested in reading it, I'm not interested in what people think about us, especially since it's not true. But without waiting for me to finish my reply, he scolded me full of spite:

- You don't..., you don't... you don't read, do you?

- Nothing more fake, the language wasn't my problem, I'm already immune to how much obscene language I've heard in other circles, I just didn't want to give it that much importance.

And he continued, but I'd have thought he'd roll his eyes again at any moment:

- Religious music will save you!

Among the nonsense he threw at me:

- When you meet a guy running, you ask him his name! Because the master of the universe is not him, the master of the universe is Christ.

I realized that my online activity was being tracked. At exactly the same time, I had to present a paper on the influence of sound (and implicitly music) on psychological states. I searched and listened to some music from two opposite styles on YT, as I wanted to give some examples. That same day I had watched the trailer of that sinister movie whose name I forgot. I had watched it because someone had told me about it and I couldn't believe that one of the characters, the female one, looked like a character from something I had written.

He then confessed:

- I contacted everyone involved!!! (in what? I wonder.)

In the end he threatened me:

- There will be a war against you! (me being like: Save me Obi Wan Kenobi!)