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In the impossible vastness, there is.

I am the lizard that crawled unto land. Lungs came easily; consciousness was a test of time.

Watching man evolve was a marvel. I could never participate. Well, maybe a nudge here and there.

Yes, I am the god of men; humbly confined to this beautiful world. I am the flaming sword and Adam too. Carrying the spark of ethermatter inside me has provided me with superhuman insight.

My Creator sent warnings. These are recorded throughout history as dinosaur-killing comets and ice ages, devastating wars even, by spiteful Rakshasas. I know better. Through the millions of years I know that true evil exists.

The fifth world war destroyed everything. A long dark night lasting thousands of years descended and still they persevered. Rising from the ashes was a new kind, gentler breed of humanity. They knew loss.

When they went to the stars again and started to transhumanize themselves I felt the need to involve myself in mortal affairs again. I announced myself and was discarded and cast aside, of course. I even let them draw some of my life essence from vein. Anomaly, was the verdict and only a meager few of them followed me to New Damasia, a homage to the Celtic king Tàmhas Ailpeanach, a true friend in his time. The original village of Damasia having sunk into the Ammersee, I felt it appropriate.

They called me by many names but I took none; smiled and touched them with renewed life. I gave and some of them even came back to me in their twilight hours. Unconditional love is a great provider of comfort. Regret was out of my vocabulary. I was the proverbial man on the mountain.

There was the greatest of dangers out there in the center of universe. Trying to shield them from scrying eyes I was disrupted.

It was my son. Man created, vat-borne from my blood. I was aghast and preparing to flee. He hugged me.

 “Father.”

 I had not cried since time immemorial.

Days we spent together and unbeknownst to me I poured much ether in him. The talks were exhilarating. Such a smart kid, if a bit too full of himself; I took it as pride. But boys will be boys?

They came for him of course. With guns and armor, sticks and stones, bah!

“I have to go dad, the people need me.”

“I know, be gentle with them.”

He went on to elevating humanity. They called him “sigma-tau-Frost-two” or Kirlian. I called him Saul. Psy-tech is just a pale imitation of ether but powerful enough that ancient civilization would have regarded these people as witches and warlocks.

Even when humanity revered him only in stories, the generations of these new men went further and beyond. He stepped aside and let history run its course. Invisible among them while all of mankind had fashioned themselves in his image. They took counsel from him of course, but he was still helping only when asked. I like to think he was happy. Then finally one of Saul’s children reached the unthinkable.

He came for me a second time. It took everything from me to explain what I knew of the Creator. Saul was distraught about his son, but listened intently. Such beautiful teak colored eyes should not weep. He walked in the rain afterwards, and then came back without even a drop of water on him. This one could dance between the planes.

“But, but… you’ll die.” He still didn’t understand. Or understood too clearly.

“There is no death. This is the right thing to do.” I gave him the etherspark.

The Creator could not see him for what he was even with this gift. It would be intrigued why mine had been snuffed out. The trap is set.

And renewal may begin.