Creation. Book 1. Part 1.3: The Last Shaman. 10/25 Complete.

A sudden and catastrophic apocalypse, just like what struck those two cities of Sodom and Gomorrah from the Bible, struck Fu, mainly unawares, and it was clear that those who perhaps failed to really believe that they could be destroyed by some jealous (as they saw it) god, were very much mistaken, as the World of Fu paid the price of an excess of hubris and an absence of Love.

In similar circumstances to the Biblical narrative the denizens of Fu ended up shocked….nay, aghast, at being damned by the God that created them, and like so many beings who are likewise governed by Hubris, and seemingly in possession of an endless reservoir of scoffing-arrogance and unrepentant, limitless scorn, they are yet to disappoint when the lightning strikes the tower and their faces are frozen in a look of astonishment and disbelief, as though they never saw it coming…whereas the truth is that they were so arrogant that they never paid attention to a single sign, and not only that, but even as that which they had tempted through fate for years had begun to show signs that indeed, should you dally with it and invoke its deadly name, it would come one day for certain. But rather than let this put you off you allowed it to work as a talisman, as a red flag to a bull, and zombie-like you held it in your hand and constantly moved ever closer to the monster, as though it had you under some spell and you were no longer yourself at certain times.

The thing which makes the annihilation of Fu, and it’s now-ghoulish dead population even more unfortunate than that of Sodom and Gomorrah, is that the entire planet of Fu was destroyed, as opposed to just two cities, which were not such irreversible signs of bad luck, as they could ultimately be replaced by others.

To destroy an entire world though, implies a degree of vengeance as disproportionate as the crime that is to be punished, but in the case where all of the choices have been made and the fates have nothing left in their boxes of yarn, then the thread must end by its own disintegration.

That’s how it was, and it is not unlike the description given by a cynical character in a 20th C., Earth novel —

“How did you go bankrupt?” Bill asked.

“Two ways,” Mike said. “Gradually and then suddenly.”

“What brought it on?”

“Friends,” said Mike. “I had a lot of friends. False friends…” — (The Sun Also Rises, Earnest Hemingway, 1926).

The people of the Old Universe were all dead, and their cosmos was undone, and the instrument or “hand” of that destruction was the last being to see it before its end, as she escaped to another dimension through a black hole that led to a wormhole.

The black hole was easily vast enough to house the great Dragon Chronos, as well as his consort, whom he wrapped in his serpentine coils, though she was herself swollen with all the forms of life that were destined to be re-invigorated, restructured, and transported in her belly like embryos in the mother’s womb—

The only trouble is telling which side of the looking glass you are staring through if it is too dark.

The Old Universe was corrupted by the treacherous god-king, WoRu, who ruled in the manner of some extravagant Caesar or Pleasure-lord from the casinos and brothels of his decadent home on Planet Fu.

He knew what he was doing all along!

When the end came it was more of a surprise to the rest of the world than to WoRu, who breathed a sigh of relief, as it became apparent that this was his goal all along! First, the-end of Fu was near, and then it was very quickly HERE! No one tried to do anything about these events. Nor was anyone really surprised when the worst suddenly manifested itself before their very eyes! No one knew for certain, though all but fools suspected that there was a reckoning on the horizon, and it was of little comfort even to those with deeper understanding, to know that the avatar of the destruction of their universe was also to be the mother and salvation of the new one, whilst they were to be consigned to the flames and non-existence.

Right up until the last possible moment Ananke saved from Oblivion all life-forms that were worthy of saving, and she carried them, though most were partially dead, and all were morally degenerate, within her vast belly, including all the seeds of future life.

Of the doomed humanity of Fu, only a single shaman had the wisdom to foresee this end of the world, though his following was small, yet at the end he did all that he could do, which was to be with them and pray.

We listen to his delivery of a sermon of strength and faith whilst he attempts to help bring courage to his disciples, those nobly facing an unjust doom and struggle not to panic as they can see the fire and hear the thunder gathering all around them.

“The Shaman”

often in those times in Fu called also —

“The Master”

was a great man, and in many ways he kept faith with the old ways. His ancestors were those ancient seers of the old world of Fu. They could not prevent the mistakes of those generations of the past five hundred years — the backsliding into blindness and egotism, and the diminishment of the moral life of the people.

All the monks and lay brethren of his sect, the so-called by the officials —

‘Order of Infidels’

were gathered on this unprecedented occasion, where the Master, who had observed a vow of silence for years, had only a few days before, and to the surprise of all, had suddenly spoken from necessity, and sent out his most trusted monks with a message for all to attend this important gathering.

The last sermon delivered by the last shaman priest of Fu.

The Shaman called upon the Holy Spirit to bless his ardent desire to be able to bring true comfort to his despairing flock. He begged the voice of God to make his prayer meaningful by entering into him and allowing him to be a rod, and to channel the divine spirit and act as a conduit to share it among the souls of the faithful, in this the last moment before their death.

It happened as follows…

“Please, Master,” begged a stalwart old woman, who had risen from the crowd and raised a hand to ask for the Master’s attention —

“…tell us all, and do not spare us any details, no matter how horrible the case may be. For like the condemned, but innocent, man, who chooses to forego the blindfold, and rather to bravely look his executioner in the eyes…”

She spoke with a steadiness in her voice, and an unwavering gaze that reassured the Master that he was doing the right thing by telling them the whole truth about their world, their past, and their future—

“…it is better to face the truth unflinchingly, and to step with confidence and righteous faith, through that door that we all must pass through, yet once you do, no one ever returns, and with a steady hand, pull back the curtain, and step into the embrace of the great abyss, with the certainty of innocence, the hope for God, and the courage of the Justified.”

In an instant the stone walls of the ‘Infidel Temple’ echoed with the thunderous banging of wooden begging bowls. All had heard the woman speak, and her message was adopted by each and every one of those there as though they spoke through her with one mind.

He began to feel a surge of energy swirling in his chest like adrenaline and he raised his hands to command them all to listen, as they gripped each others’ hands, and held their tear-filled eyes locked together with his — unwavering until the bitter end.

He prayed, not from Pride, but for the benefit of the pure power that he might be a rod to channel it through to them all. He prayed for The One to grant him the power of incantation, to loosen his tongue and lend wings to his words, and though only for this one time, let it be abundant, uplifting, celebratory, miraculous — that all might feel the miracle, all rejoice, and all be healed.

“Lord” he prayed —

“I have always found it easier to speak to you than them, but I listen to them always, and it is right that they have asked that the final voice they hear in this world should be yours, like a father who sings his child to sleep, that she may sleep through the hours of the storm, and awaken in the safety and strength of the crook of her Father’s arm. I beg you to do likewise, and bestow a true blessing upon the trembling brows of these, your poor and frightened children. Wrap us up in your loving arms and share a drop of the right salve to allay their fears, to embalm their bleeding hearts, and to succour their terrified children. Let me be a rod through which you may cast a healing beam of light upon them!”

The group had been around for centuries and were originally named ‘The Infidels’ generations ago, because of their doctrines of renunciation and abstinence, that WoRu, and the established religion of Fu, even at the end, condemned as the false and negative tenets of, as was written by WoRu in his own manifesto —

“The sad preachers of self-denial and proponents of a life less than half-lived.”

“Yes,” thought the Master, looking down from the dais at the devotees, with calm resignation —

“They are ready.”

Just like the ignorant masses who followed WoRu, so, the last living thousand or so people, who formed the majority of the final living remnants of the Order of Infidels, albeit they did not deserve to share the fate of the rest, were nonetheless inescapably born at the wrong time, as with WoRu’s followers and all the rest of the Damned out there, and together they made up the last generation of their doomed world.

Destruction awaited all unavoidably, just as it awaited you, although you felt slightly ill-used by luck, like a passenger in a river boat that ends up sinking. The passenger feels she has a right to expect the good crew of the boat — not to mention the captain — to vouchsafe your safety.

To be sure you cannot see around the upcoming bend in the river, but you swear silently to yourself that if you had been a boatmen or sailor of this line you would have known each and every hidden bend, and especially every high waterfall!

But you are already aboard, and feel that, given you are purely there as a passenger, should have been able to feel you had a right to trust others to vouchsafe your life without you taking any responsibility.

As the boat’s speed increases you are carried with it — inexorably — to the infinity-edge of the world.

Many passengers still have no clue, how can they possibly imagine how close they are to annihilation — to the precipice of a high waterfall, and so they continue to smile, though doomed.

They are heedless passengers, not just on a boat, but a whole world, about to spin off its axis, oblivious, and bathed in ignorant bliss.

Before their ship reaches the falls and the invisible marker is activated, the one that designates the final place of no return, the previously “gentle” momentum of the boat is suddenly subverted, subverted and replaced by a much wilder series of new sensations, such as a turning of the stomach, and a presence of centrifugal force, that was not there a moment earlier, along with many other sensations that might be aspects of gravity or pressure, and the breath of the captivated and unfortunate passenger is plummeted off the edge of the waterfall, down into the depths of a vast and black ocean of Oblivion.

The Shaman was so genuinely humble, and so convinced in the core of his bones that —

“One does not do a good deed in the hope for a reward, for it nullifies the Good Deed and shows that there is an impure motive behind it which tarnishes its purity!”

A thought which many Buddhist monks of the future Earth would happily ratify, and even add to the sentiment that those who go out actively trying to seek Nirvana are prevented by the desire itself, which blocks them despite their best intentions.

So it was that even as his less sophisticated but virtuous followers, of whom there were many present on that fateful last day, and who were undoubtedly deserving of mercy and salvation, as they knelt on the cold stone floor and their knuckles turned white from the fear making them clench their hands together too tightly in prayers which although mostly addressed for the benefit of someone else could not help but quietly beg, and simultaneously apologize for being selfish, but yes, they begged that their Heavenly Father would take away the terror and come down and bring them all with him to Paradise.

Well, all that the onlookers of their temple knew as they could not help but watched the entire building disappear into the vast maw of the dragon, and pitying the faithful, as they knew not that all that went into that mouth full were about to be quarantined and saved for Life!

Yet all that the onlookers saw and said was—

“Surely neither those devout folks, nor the stars, the waters, the sun and the moons, have done so much wrong as to all deserve to end up devoured by the gaping mouth of that great, black dragon, whose meal would not be complete until she had devoured the world as well?”

The last moments of the old universe — view from the ground.

The pity of those neighbours of the Temple of the Infidels was a pure spring of thought and generous emotion in itself, but what the observers did not know, nor indeed did the suddenly unconscious bodies and minds of the thousand members of the former congregation of the Shaman know, was that they were not going to die at all, but were rather about to experience the same sort of unconscious facsimile of death that was experienced by Ziz, in the epoch of his snowbound suspended animation, preserved and on hold for new life was he, and safe in the little crystal cocoon, on the side of the crystal egg of Phanes.

It so happened in that very same moment that the rescued Holy rollers of the Temple of Infidels of Fu came sliding along the living floor of the cavern that Ziz was domiciled, along with the crystal Hill and its crystal egg that stuck to its side — itself a cocoon or gestation chamber — that coincidentally was torn asunder in the surrounding carnage, and its little resident who had not moved a muscle for several million years, at that point did suddenly wiggle his proboscis a little, and testing out his mandibles and rubber lips tried to buzz a little, and even attempted to move whole sections of his body and look around, in that rapid, jerky motion, that is the same thing that renders them almost impossible to catch when they fly around your comparatively slow-moving hands.

The movements were fast to be sure, but what was more prodigious and what was given less than the amount of praise that it deserves, is the skill with which they perform evasive combat flying. On the one hand the maneuvers are executed so rapidly that they are impossible to properly observe with the human eye, which is why they seem almost to be mocking us, when they fly very close to one’s hand, almost daring us to actually get them, then they will retreat using impossible directions that no one could ever match in speed and accuracy,

Being a fly there was very little sluggishness or downtime in between the moment of his awakening, his actual reflexes were naturally lightning fast, and his peripheral vision being very tuned in, but also his eyes took in so much of the angles to the side and around us that , and so it was no surprise to him that during the cacophony of the movements that were happening like a seismic movement of plate-tectonics all around him, should reveal itself to be largely accounted for by the crashing past him and into a chamber adjacent to that one wherein the crystal hill of Phanes was domiciled, the still recognisable structure of the temple of the Infidels — which slid along the mucus-membrane of the floor of the gullet of Ananke, and as it passed by Ziz he could see in the window, the corpses (evidently in a condition fit for re-animation or cloning or some such other solution that involves returning them to the life) that they were so afraid to show such hubris as to ask for salvation for, as though they could only blush if they attempted to do so without shame and some self deprecation such as falling to one’s knees, and shouting —

“I am not worthy! I am not worthy!”

which perhaps was the right attitude, or in any case the right thing to say, given the outcome of the entire thousand innocent humans being saved, whom he would later on discover were the only ones rescued and evidently chosen to survive out of 12 Billions on that now-dead planet.

But who was there to listen to their prayer? Phanes was the Sky Father and he was asleep next to Ziz. Metis had been indistinguishable from Aether, controlling or influencing Ananke from within the crystal hill!

The sky, the air, Sun and Moon, were all within Aether’s, Aethereal domain, and the spirits of enlightened beings were his area of interest as well, as indeed were matters of Love, Light, Justice, and Life — each and all of which were extremely germain to the only prayers of such humble-living folks who had never asked for anything up until then, and so found themselves recipients of a direct intervention by the transcendent Sky Father of all life — which if anything goes to ratify the beliefs of the Shaman to so extraordinary an extent — that it was a pity in the end that when these beings were restored to life as children of Adam and Eve and their descendants on Earth, that they would not have the good fortune to remember the details of their original connection and bond, as being the last and only decent people of 12 Billion on the accursed World of Fu to have been divinely rescued from that hell-hole.

“If we keep going in the same direction, downstream, to the sea of darkness that swallowed Fu, we shall end up beside it…”

remarked Ziz —

“…and suffer the fate of Milo — with one forgotten shipwreck lying next to another, on the blackness of the ocean floor of oblivion, where there is no light, no warmth, and no life…or least none in a condition to be of any service to anyone, nor with a faculty of thought or memory to record its passage, or even its former existence.”

With that said Ziz appeared to shudder with the creeps, as though someone walked over his grave —

“I dread the thought that we all and up dead and then floating out to sea, before sinking down and getting gobbled up by monsters in the dark! It is rather horrible really! Don’t you think?”

The Master took a few steps forward and embraced the woman, nodded and raised his left hand to draw the already focused eyes of the congregation to hearken to his next words although neither they nor he was yet aware that he was to be rescued, and when Ziz knew he really knew, and on this occasion he was relieved to know so quickly that those two lovely people were going to continue getting drunk and stumbling home along coastal beaches for a few years to come...or if not he did not want to here about it!

Ananke had not swooped yet, and to all their minds they were doomed at the point that the Shaman began to speak.

He spoke thus—

“My children,”

he cried, raising his fist in the air and clenching it with love and passion, and his normally even voice was tinged with powerful emotion, and it cracked a little bit as he said the word “children”, for he loved them as his own —

“…it is good that you are here with me — that we are together. A family should be together at the most important times of life. Ours is even more precious, as there are here barely one thousand of you, in a world of twelve billion souls.”

Gregory Peck as Ahab in 1956. In that film he defies the power of Leviathan, but in the Apocalypse of Fu he prays to it and it rescues his disciples alone, out of billions that are destined to fall.

As he enunciated that huge number he gazed upward to the ceiling and raised his hands appealingly as if to ask —

“How can it be that so many will be alone for Easter and need to hear a kind voice and be told that they are loved?”

“There are others though, scattered in lonely enclaves like ours, throughout our doomed world, like little rays of light in the darkness, or lighthouses standing, immoveable, but surrounded by a chaos of raging ocean storms.

Be strong my friends, for you are not alone!

“There was a time when our universe was young, that all men and women knew why we were here, and how to care for our spirits, and the life of the world. A time when all living things were sacred.

“Our ancestors were wary of the dangers of giving their light to the passions, to the search for pleasure, and the lust for power, that consumes a man’s heart.

“In those days the forces of entropy were as ineffectual as a wave that breaks against an immovable rock, and then is washed away.

“Indeed the light of our spirit is the most powerful force in the universe, and is itself immutable, whereas all of the other powers in creation are so very changeable, even by their nature they are limited in that way, and so that vast majority of our ancestors and neighbours who placed their faith in impermanent things will not have to pay the price.

Lying to yourselves won’t help ye!

“If only our ancestors had not failed, our enemies both without and within, themselves might be diminished, and powerless to prevent us, both individually and as a family, from transcending to the Ethereal Plane, and together living and worshipping in that Paradise from whence our life originally descended.

“The ancients of the World were inconstant, and forgot their discipline, and in time each generation exceeded the former in ambivalence, and more and more failed to resist the sarcasm of men like WoRu, until they were ultimately tempted away from the vigilance of our early mothers and fathers.

“Gradually, they forgot the teaching, and became blind to their own diminishment. They were seduced by Illusion, as a tired man is seduced by sleep, and a sweet dream closes his eyes again, and re-claims his mind.

“As each son and daughter succeeded their dying mothers and fathers, more and more often it occured that the loudest voices in a man’s head won over, yet they were new voices, and they were no longer the teachings of his forefathers.

“Silent now were the teachings of vigilance, forbearance, humility, selflessness, and true-Love. Unspoken now were the secrets of compassion. Their quieter voices drowned out by the vaunted yelps of pride and passion.

“As a serpent creeps up, unseen by its unsuspecting victim, there comes a time, beyond which it is too late for the victim to escape.

Hear me, Ye flock of mine!

“So creep the lies we tell ourselves. The evil one strikes, and injects us with an overwhelming poison.

“So did Greed enter our society, and the avarice and envy that rips civilisations apart, and causes brother and sister to murder each other, enters us too, while misers sit on piles of treasure, fearing thieves, loving no one, dry, without family, god or friend, they die with a condescending sneer on their faces, believing they had outdone the world, because of the riches they managed to acquire, compared to their neighbour.

“Even the greatest people, those with large flaming hearts, filled with the divine essence, having been observed by demons, actually they are found out, betrayed by their shining eyes, which make them conspicuous among souls, until they are singled out by evil forces, and tempted away from the Good, with fools gold — the material gifts of the base world.

“Such men and women could have been spiritual leaders, might have saved the world, instead they are seduced, crowned as kings and queens, and given armies.

“They slide down into evil. They take up the sword against their brothers and sisters, and instead of saving them, they call them“Enemy”, slaughter them, steal their goods, burn their cities, and sell their wives and children into slavery.

“Others, who were not warlike in nature, are seduced in another manner. The demon nation appeals to their Vanity, offers them fame, begging them to play music for the world, to write poetry that they swoon over, or play a role as an actor on a stage, so that all the crowd showers them in rose petals and adulations undeserved! Who would not be tempted by laurels, cast at your feet by the hands of adoring fools, who praise your muse as the greatest of all time? Which of us would not like to be lauded up and down, and called a “Star”?

“Just remember, while all of this glamour is dazzling your eyes, the literal star, that light in heaven, that was once attached, to your formerly bright soul, has faded away in the heavens, slowly enveloped by darkness, as was its avatar on the ground below, as you traded your real life, for a fake one, punctuated with vainglorious dissipation.

You cannot hide from what’s inside! But nor need you fear any man whose heart is fixed only om greed.

“Eventually all but a few, like us, fell prey to the consuming forces of those elements, that move, not only around and without us, in earth, air, sea and space, but within our very bodies and minds, and their life-force that once had fed and increased the twinkling light of the stars, now served only to fuel the minds of dark wizards of steel and coal, who sold their light in exchange for the black magic that taught them how to forge machines of war and pleasure.

“One by one, my friends, have the stars faded, until this world, over thousands of years, has succumbed to entropy, and Life has been squandered, and absorbed by the forces of chaos. Those forces that rejoice in the impending freedom, that they perceive the end of the world will bring them, by virtue of the end of awareness — the onset of Oblivion.

“No more time! No more consciousness! No more oppressive Life, forcing them, as they see it, to exist in the Hell of self-knowledge!”

“And what of us,”

a voice meekly interrupted the shaman.

“Nothing can destroy your spirit. If the universe ends, as I have foreseen, then you and I will be gathered up like sheaves of wheat, and placed into a plane or dimension, either eternally, or until God re-appears, somehow, and creates the world anew. Only then, may we have the chance to live a life, as it was meant to be lived.”

The powerful words of the sermon culminated with The Shaman and his disciples all expiring in the centre of the mass-extinction event, an event that enveloped their world in the very instant that The Shaman’s final “Amen” was uttered — like the world’s bravest mike-drop.

Do not fear my children.

The Shaman told his followers that they would know that the last day had come by the appearance in the sky of —

“A Sunflower. You will see the sign of the Sunflower, and it will grow until the final moments of life.”

The disciples of the shaman were dissatisfied with this mysterious reply, and sought more detailed and straight forward responses.

“And then what will happen?” they asked.

“…You will cook…like a chicken, at about 2000 degrees, but very quickly…”

A number of people fainted at this detail —

“…and then, before you’re even fully cooked…you’ll freeze, down to minus 270. Absolute zero!”

As they all began to panic, he shouted —

“Quiet, friends. Be at peace. This flash will happen to us all so quickly it would not be surprising if one day, in a billion years, someone finds our world, and we will all be standing here in the exact same spot, and won’t even have time to change the expression on our faces. You will all look a little confused. I wonder what they will call us? The “World that got caught with its pants down” I suspect. That isn’t so bad is it?”

With that he gave a warm and comforting laugh, as if to say —

“There you go, friends! It isn’t so serious, once you face it like a man, is it now?!”

Perhaps in hindsight he would have been more effective as a military chaplain than a New Age shaman and philosopher, an option he realized it was now too late to ever take advantage of, but his reveries were interrupted by the children of his congregation.

“It can’t be good, can it?!” said the children, who always hoped things were better than they seemed, and were often conflicted by the comments of the shaman —

“Being known as “The World that got caught with its pants down!”

They were often saddened by his refusal to see the plain facts, but also filled with hope at the way the shaman would find some true ray of light, almost anywhere, and always in the contemplation that brought realisation, in almost every case, that the situation was not, after all, so serious as everyone was making it out to be…

Except today! The shaman was beginning to admit his faux pas, and he realised that the flock truly needed him to at least say something more — if he could do nothing to stop this madness of Judgement and global collective punishment — something to re-establish the dignity of the flock.

In the final seconds, where his disciples were wavering between peace and fear, the shaman raised his hands, and a multitude of relief-filled smiles preceded the group resuming their seats, as the shaman spoke his final and most serious sermon yet —

“Today, my friends, is the day that it is “that serious”. Indeed, my friends, today really seems to be revealing itself to be a more serious day than any day I can remember. Certainly it is more serious than any day I would willingly choose to remember.

“Honestly…,” he gazed skyward, and raised his hands calmly, and in a dignified manner ignored the sirens and bells and weeping women and children, then, raising his voice in honest supplication to God, continued to deliver what was shaping up to be a superior sermon — regardless of religious denomination.

“Honestly I had never imagined that such a day would ever come. It seems that even after it came some part of me refused to believe what I was seeing and hearing.

“Today was not the day to speak flippantly, in the midst of hopelessness, but it was like some part of me refused to believe what was happening — what IS happening!

“Unfortunately,”

he continued, with a slow and steady voice, a deliberate and premeditated voice now, and whilst he spoke making eye-contact with them all when possible, and trying to channel as much of his own inner strength as he could spare, into each and every heart in each and every one of those men —

“…on this dark day, the children were right, after all, that there is nothing good about being caught with your pants down…not when all is at stake, and so it seemed that there was little to do except acknowledge that there we stood — pants down — not trying to deny it, nor to blame it on someone else, nor to downplay it’s folly, and unnecessary existence as a state of affairs, especially when there are people that need our help, and serious problems that need to be handled by competent and serious men, that such as us with our pants hanging around our ankles are just not in a position to help anyone else, at least not before fixing up ourselves first!”

Even as the shaman spoke these words of warning to his disciples, and unseen by any, except some astronomers in a lab, there appeared in the sky above the capital city a blue image, like a UFO, but way too big, which also appeared on their doppler-scope, showing all the nearby stars being effected and actually they were being dragged by a strong gravitational force, by an invisible object such as a small planet with a cloaking devise, yet such a device could not completely hide the gravitational effect on other satellites in the vicinity, whose relative size prevented them from being able to resist the force, which was obviously manifested as a result of the gravitational force in that location, like a footprint of something vast but invisible.

“Well that’s odd!” commented one astronomer to his colleague.

“It looks like the universe has begun to shrink!”

and as they looked at each other, hopefully, each praying that his counterpart will save the day and come up with that missing critical theory that we need now more than ever — they finally both looked downward and then away, each disappointed, as after a long, protracted time, the other’s face mirrored his own deep mask of confusion and disbelief. Neither volunteered to say out loud what they both knew for a fact — that there was a large object there exerting gravitational force on all the objects around it.

That momentary deception caused by the erroneous Blue-Shift — was itself just an illusion — an inhale of calmness, that was about to be swept out from under everyone, and replaced by a chaotic disruption, that was to descend like a combination mini-earthquake combined with a tropical cyclone, on the precise location of the lab and all those inside it.

It was only after a few moments more that the scientists were compelled to take another look — and closely this time — at their instruments!

The ‘blue-shift’ ceased, and was replaced in the following breathless moments by a new depth of terror, as just as suddenly, and without warning, as before, all the instruments and screens now turned a bright, panic-stricken-red!

But the instruments could not do justice to the pervasive sense of terror that sat there in the middle of the air, thick as butter and able to be cut with a knife. Such tension was maddening — an offense to humanity — and so pervasively oppressive that it not only possessed the mind of each person there, but also shattered the nerves and eroded any faith in God, not to mention developing characteristics in common with those of the famous Receiver in Chancery for the Jarndyce Vs Jarndyce case —

“The receiver in the cause has acquired a goodly sum of money by it but has acquired too a distrust of his own mother and a contempt for his own kind” — (Bleak House, Charles Dickens, 1860).

personal traits such as are found in common with such types as “Informers”, traits that may formerly have been possessed by some of the people in the room, in such things as their technology, the future, world war, etc.

An epic vision was laid out across the horizon and the night sky, which could only be described as that which it was — nothing less — and that is Armageddon, the biblical herald of the Apocalypse, just as the sheer terror that quickly entered the minds of all who dared to glance upwards at the night sky could also be described as “Biblical” — but “Biblical” in the sense that we mean when we think of the Creator of the Old Testament — that:

“…jealous God”,

whose wrath generally involves, inter alia, punishments that include such old favourites as —

“wailing and gnashing of teeth”,

which along with a cornucopia of other creatively cruel punishments, await us in a special place called —

“Hell”

wherein he has thoughtfully prepared long-term lodgings for us, and in advance — a place that features, amongst other treats, the lovely view, or scenic-outlook, that is notable for its popular condition of —

“eternal darkness, 24/7”.

It was on the very day, the same day that the priest had given his bitter prediction, that the sky erupted, and the Avatar of Necessity came through the body of blackness, through the center of the black hole!

Very quickly there was a yellow flame that caught fire around the circle of the black hole, until at last it appeared to be surrounded in a perfect penumbra of yellow rays, that at first licked at its edges as it grew outwards, then as the individual yellow flames, or petals on the Sunflower began to move faster they also extended and expanded, manifesting longer and more tangibly by the minute, such that the whole thing did indeed resemble the first stages of bloom in a sunflower, even a sunflower in space, with the black hole in the middle mimicking its heavily pollinated seeds, the entire effect was formed the first stage of that which the shaman called —

“The First Flowering of Melissa Ananke”

or —

“The visual sign to mortal man of what the eternals call “The Death Rattle of the Universe””

He elaborated on the description by suggesting to his disciples —

“We may be lucky enough to live through the collateral weather events, long enough to see this phenomenon. After about an hour of various aspects of the tearing the world into pieces, before the penultimate act of the tearing down of the Sun and Moon from the sky, the final sign from Ananke will be the Great Sunflower of the World’s End in full bloom, when the yellow petals appear, through an optical illusion, to encroach upon the black centre of the flower. They say the only one to have ever seen that and lived was Ananke and Chronos”

A smile of compassion, but only a faint presence of joy, was the final communication of the shaman to his flock, as he lowered his head in an emotional wave of compassion that had overwhelmed him with a sense of self-doubt, as he vainly sought for a solution to this world-problem, still unwilling to see everyone lose everything. It was somehow unjust, and he wanted to protest!

As if on queue, and simultaneously loudly rejecting his petition, the sky went suddenly dark as a storm appeared, seemingly from nowhere, but instantly it was everywhere, it’s grey clouds forming banks of gloom in the night sky in every direction of the compass.

It’s particular purpose, it seemed to the shaman, other than to spread general misery and gloom, was to humbly tender itself as a God-sent rejection of his petition for mercy.

Such a weather event as this could not possibly be out of place when taken together with all of the other signs and portents that had smashed the hopes of the world over the previous twenty four hours.

“On such a day…”

thought Ziz, in solitary sadness at the pervasive level of destruction everywhere, together with the complete absence of Hope —

“Sounds of the superpower of the rage of storms is the only fitting language to communicate in. For this is the language of Chaos, not of Cosmos or Creation, nor of Reason, and certainly not of Love!”

Only a few could see the spectacle through the smoke and lightning, when suddenly there emerged from its centre, the momentous apparition of a vast Dragon that appeared in the stark white light of the lightning flash, only to leave flashing lights behind the unaccustomed eyelids that fruitlessly tried to cope with the subsequent darkness, the darkness that followed directly after the super-charged bolt of extreme whiteness.

Indeed, these extremes of light and darkness were so difficult to adjust to, and virtually impossible for the human eye to cope with, with their incessant switching around from one to the other — due to them both being such unique and powerful examples of the phenomenon, that the only way for him to attune himself was to cover both of his eyes and leave only a tiny crack of visibility that he could adjust to block out the lightning.

No less terrifying for being only scarcely seen, was the vast, flying hulk that formed a darker circle than the blackness of the stormy night, and again he saw but still could not believe the terrifying truth that rapidly began to appear and disappear in the midst of the ferocious storm.

It took several lightning flashes to finally sufficiently illuminate the terrifying vastness of that long, draconid body of the Goddess Ananke, and it also revealed, entwined around her and equally prodigious, like a titanic boa constrictor — the equally menacing form of her consort — Chronos.

Their giant forms, to the astonishment of all, appeared to be emerging from the black hole itself, and then descending to the surface of Fu — as though the black hole was their mother ship or something.

Far better it would have been for those unfortunates, in these their last moments of consciousness, had they died before seeing this vast horror-show, those alien, godlike forms; or had their minds somehow been mercifully taken from them, as a relief of some heavy burden, away into another dimension, into the unconscious limbo, or a dream dimension, to spare their astonished eyes from experiencing The Horror — horror-incarnate — as their last conscious experience in the three dimensional universe.

Would that Necessity could also depend on such divine graces as Mercy — then they may have all been spared such an ending as this, to die partly of fright, never so patently aware of one’s own fragility and meaninglessness in the bigger picture, and ultimately petrified, overwhelmed and astonished by the sheer vastness of the form of She, the mother-pilot of Universes.

The humans, who were all about to die anyway, were to be reminded, as a final divine act of revelation to be bestowed upon them all before their final destruction — of how utterly insignificant they all were — like vermin, fleas or tiny lice on the back of some vast animal.

“Perhaps it is exactly what we needed!” thought the shaman out loud

“I have no doubt it is what we deserved!” he added, in a wistful and sighing strain.

His dissatisfied voice sounded like it had unfinished business to attend to in Creation, and he was unsatisfied that the folly of the God-Emperor Fu had to drag all life down into perdition with it, and because of this conclusion, the night still lacked proper closure in the mind of the most righteous shaman.

“Although I just wish it had been postponed for a couple more years. I was just about to get politically active, and I know there are many others who think rightly” he continued, still hoping for a last minute stay of proceedings, yet he sounded less convincing than before.

Elsewhere, in the cursed city streets, one lonely stranger stood apart from the crowd, and staring upwards reflected —

“Looking at those creatures…Well, they are truly vast, and so much so that they could not possibly have anything to do with the universe of Man!? To such as them I couldn’t be more substantial than the form of an ant, compared to that of a blue whale, and…”

then he pointed at the movements of Ananke with excitement —

“Wow. Look at her motion. With sublime power and grace she flies in the airless confines of space, just as a spirit flies, then with such overwhelming grace she appears to swim through the sky, just as a whale swims across the ever-flowing and temperamental currents that flow through water just as music is conducted on air, and so it is carried on the moon-enchanted tides, that form invisible maps and flowing highways across the watery world, as like a queen of all creation you stride like a Colossus atop the waves high up, and close to the surface where the air meets the sea, of our vast and clear-bodied ocean, whilst I am like a little prawn, bottom-feeding in my own muck in the unlit depths away from all sources of light, and only occasionally raising my head to remind myself that such great souls as you actually exist, as I stare up in disbelief, safe from harm as I am in this uninteresting patch of sand, a mile or two below Her, equally distant from everyone else, and too afraid to challenge my situation, as she swims through space like a cosmonaut!”

The man was hysterical — overwhelmed by the vastness and impending finality of it all — but at least he made a final effort to locate himself in the Cosmos — even if only in relation to Ananke. He knew there was no point trying to behave himself now. It was all over. All he could do was bare witness to Her vastness for the remaining seconds of his existence, and he grinned like a madman as he continued to watch, enthralled at how clearly he could see the atrocious destruction of at least the solar system that he was in, as she continued to swim across the ocean of sky, devouring planetoids and moons, with just as much ease as a blue whale swallowing so much insignificant plankton and kelp. She looked like she was made of shadow — the great shadow-whale, the Dragon of the Night Sky, swimming through space.

Two seconds later all of the people except those 1000 of the faithful who were snatched up and out of harm’s way in the nick of time, were all on fire. Twelve billion humanoids, and countless billion other life forms, all died instantaneously, their bodies’ systems all simultaneously shutting down, due at first to a blast of extreme heat, followed by another one of extreme cold, which was all caused, it would only have made them all faint again in fright to discover, by the actions of great Ananke, whose interference in the local region of space had brought about the sudden extinction of all life — and not just on the planet Fu — but everywhere!

When she turned around and swooped back the way she had come, as though making another pass, her re-traced passage across the sky the opposite way this time just made it worse…or to be true, actually finished everyone off once and for all, as with her passage she somehow sucked all the heat away, and even removed (though it didn’t help anyone), for a few seconds, enough of the ambient temperature to put most of the individual fires out on the population, who were already beginning to freeze whilst still screaming in terror of the fire, and all before their corpses even had a chance to get warm.

So it was that those innocent souls were not denied the Justice that is the rightful expectation of an innocent life, and so it was, with gentle and loving hands, that their bodies were gathered intact, as she simply picked the entire temple up in her mouth in one yawning stretch, and the precious essences were gathered — each and every one of them — along with the essence of the good shaman himself, and the multiple essences that together formed the newly reconstituted congregation whose lights formed the last few twinkling stars in the Old Universe, lights which, although not snuffed out, were temporarily hidden for the duration of their incubation inside the body of Ananke.

Here they would live in the shadows and dive deeply into the rejuvenating waters of the “Sleep of the Innocent”, and enjoy the sanctified protection of Ziz — for what reason did he make such a commitment he knew not, but he determined to watch them for as long as it might take for their spirits to find their new homes, and precisely until such time as there was a little baby in need of a spirit to fill the vessel of its body — a child whose circumstances the soul of the former Fooloolian refugee would examine with wisdom and circumspection, for she did not want to end up choosing unwisely, and once again find herself in a family without protection, in a world without love and honour.

Furthermore, in conclusion as to my words regarding their fate — which transpired to be the very same destiny enjoyed by all other innocent-beings that in some form survived the annihilation of the Old Universe, vis:

They were all placed into the mystical mechanism attached to the font of the Well of Earthly souls, where they were permitted to choose decent lives in the bosoms of good families, even from their very first awakening on Earth…and so praise be to Holy Justice, and it’s primacy in the house of those avatars of the Love Supreme.

None of them knew exactly what their fate was destined to be, but they all sought to live and to grow in awareness of the light and Love of The One. Secretly, a little fearfully — (for who can honestly say they have no fear at all?) — they imagined a long and deep sleep —

“To sleep? Perchance to dream?”” — (Shakespeare.)

They prayed, each to his or her own particular mental image of The One. They prayed for his mercy and compassion, and the prayers arose with a strange incongruity, and unevenness of gravity, as though they were already being examined by the curious little fingers.

They begged, as one pitiful voice with a thousand faces they begged — begged that the merciful god of their trusted Shaman, would show mercy, pity, peace and love, for them, that is for those.

The sign this his god had heard was written in the faces of the congregation. They turned to each other with a newfound inner glow, and nodded, as their various eyes met, each emanating waves of love and compassion to the other, indicating the assent of the god, the consanguinity of the good souls, attached to blessed folk who spoke with the voices of their hearts, though their lips were sealed.

Loud and confident was the prayer, and it admitted of no possibility of falling upon deaf ears, fuelled as it was with the power of the Holy Spirit that at first projected over the heads of the doomed congregation — then separated into tongues of fire, and soon each mortal head was crowned with a single flickering yellow tongue, that at first hovered above, then entered in to the soul of each innocent individual.

Invisible gnomes of the Aether.

“It does not seem so dark now…” whispered one old woman, whose facial expression was one of incredulity in the knowledge that it now emanated power and confidence instead of fear.

“It is not so dark anymore, is it my love?!” said the Master with a comforting tone —

“The Sun shines, and endlessly it gives, and gives the light, and radiates the warmth, required by all things, to sustain life, and it does so without taking anything back to itself.

He paused to allow the implication to sink in —

“The Sun burns without the need of replenishment, and gives endlessly, of the fuel of its eternal fire.

He was smiling, as though revealing the secret of a miracle, which the contemplation of was proof enough in the overarching beneficence of the light. It was working —

“It constantly gives, without expending any of its power, nor replenishing it from any visible source. Tell me, my brothers and sisters, have you seen anyone approach the Sun with a canister of fuel to replenish its rays?

At this, there was a light ripple of laughter, mixed with amazement, as the congregation marvelled at the mystery, the seeming contradiction, of the mechanics inherent in the power of the Sun, and of the mechanics of selfless-love, and Light —

“Mark well — if a man seeks power for himself, he will be reborn as a slave, but he who chooses without compulsion to serve others, opens the treasure chest that holds all the power in the universe. The holy one has no individual Will, just as Light has no mass, and so both may pass invisibly between the World and Paradise along paths unseen to the materialists!

“He can walk in infinite power, like the Sun, and like the Sun never want for light and life, drawn from its only wellspring and free to all, yet accessible only to those who can go there — the inexhaustible wellspring of the eternal flame, and the fountain of the Holy Spirit.

“So, too, we may be Suns ourselves, and access a super-power, live forever, and serve all beings, in their journey to the same Paradise.”

Many of the congregation appeared to be feeling an overwhelming sense of peace from the words of strength and comfort, spoken by the Master, which was good, as they were near the end, as they saw it, not salvation, and he had a warning for them as well —

“But the closer you get to purity the more you will be hunted. You will be seen as a hindrance to the aspirations of Wo Ru and his nihilistic cabal. But not even he can stop you if your heart is pure.

“If you can elude the snares of Illusion, resist the desires and let go of the attachments, those lifeless things that are pressed onto us daily, by that false being, the one we call — the Self — then you can have all that I have promised you.

“The moment one exerts Will, particularly in the interests of the so-called ‘Self’, he is no longer free, but a slave to evil. Only by sacrificing yourself, can you come to know your true self, which is divine.”

Such were the final words of wisdom of the Master, and they were words of good news tempered by caution. It was well that he spoke them last of all, after he had bolstered their courage, and not before. For it is not an easy thing to make an enemy of the Self, and to recognise it for a liar and tempter, and an evil twin of our true spirit.

He only just managed to complete the utterance of that powerful final prayer about The Sun, before the entire city-block that housed the building that they all stood inside, was atomised by a meteorite — one of thousands that were striking the city in every corner — such that there was nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide, and the doomed all just stood stock-still and awaited the inevitable.

The Master was thus able to give comfort to his people, but powerless to prevent the actual End when it came. His final sermon, before the End, was no more than a form of Last Rights…only it was the last rights for the world, not just a single dying man or even just the devotees of the ‘Order of Infidels’, whose true name would have been closer to the House of the Holy, but the name did not matter to those who knew the truth.

It struck, just as the prayer was done — in that very instant, and no sooner had he prayed —

“Amen!”

and then that was it — they were all instantly stunned and gently gathered up in the building of the temple — quarantined in her mouth whilst the streets around them were, as has been noted — atomised!

This overarching emanation of blessedness, and the sanctity of the actions of Ananke, appeared to be more fittingly the provence or responsibility of an angel or a saint, to work in the service of what was clearly some transcendent angelic being, newly elevated the character of Ananke in the eyes of the only conscious witness of the affair — Ziz — who was extra pleased to note that these creatures of pure light were to be joining him on the impending journey into the unknown, which for some reason made Ziz feel a little safer about the future.

The thought occurred to him, and even amazed him, and it certainly did not displease him, as he looked closely at these slow-moving zombies, or enchanted spirits, or whoever the heck species of bedazzled mental-slaves they were, that all surviving denizens of this world were likewise entranced, or captivated in the limbo of a comfortable dream from which they had not the power to awaken from, and all, I say, save Ziz and Phanes alone, who were already ensconced inside, were carried hence on the slowly undulating waves of moonlight, and the ephemeral motherly arms of Ananke, in a funk of peace and tranquillity that they each accepted without question to be his or her fate, to come here and follow the well-worn path into re-incarnation.

If we were to measure the time spent on the entire saga, firstly we must take for our starting point the last chaotic hours leading up to the utter destruction of the The Old Universe of Fu, then stand as witness to the expiration and last gasping breath and final closure of the eyes, of every man, woman and child, and every bird and beast on the planet’s surface, which went from a factor of millions to one of zero in the terrifying final moments that witnessed Ananke’s hurling of a flaming comet that set fire to land and sea in all directions.

Post Script:

The next chapter will give a last insight into the flawed philosophy and last moments of WoRu — the scoffing god-emperor of Fu, whose villainous misleadership of the people of his world, along with the heresy and hubris he cultivated in himself, brought about a judgement of such finality as admitted of no possibility of salvation.