Thus Spoke Enoch
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Dei arbitrium est scriptor

They are coming.
… The Garden’s doors have been broken.
Do you hear the bronzes sing?

{ Mɥʎ ɐɹǝ ʎon so sɔɐɹǝp¿
wʎ sʍǝǝʇ' sʍǝǝʇ ɔɥᴉlp' po uoʇ qǝ ɐɟɹɐᴉp
⅂ǝʇ ʇɥǝ θ ʇɐʞǝ oʌǝɹ ʎonɹ qɹɐᴉu.}

I can see them around me. The most perfect creatures I have ever witnessed. Such perfection is driving me to complete insanity, their sole presence is making me want to perish, making the knots of my psyche completely loose and flutter away like doves.
They were shy at first. Adorable things, hiding behind the walls, under my bed, outside of the window, I at first could only see glimpses of Them, They were hiding because They did not want to scare me, They never do, such pure creatures never want to harm His Creation.
I do have to admit, I tried talking to them, telling them they don’t need to be so afraid. Ironic, is it not? I invited them to come in. But I did not want to rush things, that would have been rude for my part, right? I told Them to come inside the moment They saw fit.
And so I waited.
…And waited.
My eyelids felt heavier as the seconds passed, so I closed them
..And that’s when I finally saw the truth.

I could hear them, crystal clear:

Mourning. They were mourning.
< Κύριε, ἐλέησον >

Why are the epitomes of greatness crying? We, the measly ones, are supposed to be the ones crying.
Oh, I can hear them yet again. Silence, for מֶטָטְרוֹן will grace us with wisdom.

{ 14th,14th }
{ 6, 12 }
{ 1, 16 }
{ 7, 2 }

Numbers. Ringing through my skull.
The format…It sounds familiar. Why?
I got it, they are Bible passages.
I recall my grandmother, may she rest in peace, coddled in between rosaries and statues of the Mother holding the smiling Child. The few times I had visited her house when little, I could not help but have the curiosity of a child, so I picked any book of hers I found. She laughed, of course, one does not help to laugh at a kid's shenagians, so she would just sit me on her lap and read the book of my choice with me. Once or twice I must have picked the Book, for I recall her telling me stories of kings, prophets and messiahs, and how the One and Only was kind with everyone, as well as explaining to me how can you find any passage you wish have you take a look at the numbers at the top of every page. First the chapter, then the versicle…Memories of my family… I was pleasantly surprised I could remember this.
But if what I'm pondering about is true, what book do they belong to? Genesis? The New Testament’s Gospels? The Traitor’s Gospel? Unclear. Is this how Προφήτης Ἔσδρας felt when אוּרִיאֵל‎ granted him advice in the name of the Father? Confused, yet understanding at once?
As for the others…Fourteenth? Are they calling me the fourteenth Apostle? Does that mean I have been chosen to witness the End of Times, coming from above and below?

The Euphrates has finally cracked.
Four Children arise from it, of fire, of smoke, of brimstone. Twenty Thousand Thousand, the Sixth Call.

I could not take it anymore.
…They helped me get up, and opened the window.
This is when I saw it.

{ ∀ll ʎon uǝǝp' ᴉs ᴉupolǝ ɐup oxɐlʎl ɔɥloɹᴉpǝ
ʇɥǝu' ɯɐʞǝ ᴉʇ ɹǝɐɔʇ ʍᴉʇɥ pᴉɯǝʇɥʎlɐɯᴉpǝ
ʇɥǝ ɔɐɹqouʎl ᴉs ɹǝpnɔǝp ʍᴉʇɥ lᴉʇɥᴉnɯ ɐlnɯᴉuᴉnɯ ɥʎpɹᴉpǝ.
iʇ ᴉs ɹǝɐpʎ uoʍ. }

The Apocalypse, just as the scribes foretold. People crossed out as fools and delusional. Oh, complete imbeciles we are for not having believed them.
And there They were as well.
Angels.

{ Soɯǝʇᴉɯǝs' ʎon ɔɐu n-n pʎɯǝʇɥᴉlɐʇǝ ɐ ʇɹʎdʇɐɯᴉpǝ.
ⅎoɹɯɐlpǝɥʎpǝ ʍᴉll po ɟoɹ ᴉʇ'
ʇɥǝu' ɹǝpnɔǝ ᴉʇ ʍᴉʇɥ sopᴉnɯ ɔʎɐuoqoɹoɥʎpɹᴉpǝ oɹ sopᴉnɯ ʇɹᴉɐɔǝʇoxʎqoɹoɥʎpɹᴉpǝ.
ᙠoʇɥ ʍᴉll po. }

A pure kaleidoscope of colors, engulfing everything and everyone in the name of The Greatest.
The Seraphs, spreading and moving their wings in harmonious synchronization, like waves of an ocean.
And the Ophanims, chained serpents of eyes and flames, slithering in between the clouds, the trees and the buildings, so close yet so far away.
I was at the verge of crying. The world that saw us grow, being destroyed like this. But why? How can Kindness be so merciless?
This is when The Holy Chorus chanted:

{ Mɥo uǝǝps sǝɹoʇouᴉu ʍɥǝu ʎon ɥɐʌǝ ns¿
ɔoɯǝ' dɹǝss ʎonɹ lᴉds ᴉu ʇɥǝ ɐʎɐɥnɐsɔɐ }

Muttering words no human can comprehend.
No human, but me. For I was their Chosen one, for I understood their message, sweet as honey, and soothing as bells:

“Enter our realm.
…No fear, nor human feelings.
The Father and the Son are so proud of you.
…Hallowed be thy name, and yours
Eden is coming closer
…Omnipresent, He is everywhere
Granting you eyes, and the meaning of life
…Earth is not your place
Nothing can save you now.”

Alas, I understood.
They were not invading us. They were saving us.
Cleansing us from the carnal sin.
…Purging us from our dirty bodies, our corrupted minds, and our tainted souls.
Forgiving us for being humans.

And I was their Herald. The one that stood. The one that will guide Humanity through a new path, to their Salvation.
They kept talking to me, promising me a world with no suffering, a world the Riders and their Beasts of Sulfur cannot reach. A world where humanity can finally thrive as His most perfect creation.
All I had to do to reach that promise.
…Was to trust their welcoming arms.
And jump to the abyss.
…My heart was not afraid anymore
So I did.
.
.
.
I am dead. I remain dead. And God killed me.
.
.
.
I could not have wanted it any other way.

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