[There is the cry of what sounds like a boy in distress. Shortly followed there is a crash, and the sense of movement. There is the sound of rustling and falling. The communicator is now on its side, yet still doesn't show much. If one were to look very closely they would see a teenage boy curled up not far. He's wearing white and is audibly crying.]
I-I-I want... I want... to g-g-go home...
[There is a long pause as the boy continues to cry and visibly shake.]
Wh-wh-where am I? Th-th-this c-c-c-can't be B-B-Brno.... Could it be the Empire...? But....
[The boy continued to mutter to himself, stuttering the entire time.]
V-Vaclav said... I-I'm sure he wouldn't have let anything happen.... But... what's going on...?
[There was another long pause before the soft and frightened voice spoke up again.]
S-S-Sancte Michael A-A-Archangele, defende nos in p-p-proelio; contra nequitiam et i-i-insidias diaboli e-e-esto praesidium. Imperat i-i-illi Deus; s-s-supplices deprecamur: tuque, Princeps militiae c-coelestis, Satanam aliosque spiritus ma-malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, d-divina virtute in infernum detrude.
[As he resided the prayer to himself he seemed to calm down just a little bit, his speech becoming clearer. He repeats it again and again until the video times out.]
(OOC: I'm including the prayer in English, though he probably mumbled it as well as the Latin.
Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in the battle, be our safeguard and protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; may God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls.