A Moment In Eternity

November 28, 2018, 12:59:27 PM

[ Metatron | Beginning | End | The Universe ] Attn: Anyone
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The young woman was dying, her form reduced to little more than photons and motes of light that comprised the entirety of her that was left. In that instant, she found herself, both whole, and intangible all at once as she pushed herself off from a ground that wasn't there, it was more of a reflexive action based on how she would act if there were were gravity or tangibility, neither of which truly existed or bore any meaning to her at this moment. The same was true for the featureless humanoid figure of light with wings that hovered near her. All around them were the stars, galaxies and nebulas, twinkling, slowly spinning, slowly shifting. Time moved on, yet they alone remained outside of it all somehow.

It spoke to her, and it sounded like thousands of languages speaking all at once, yet without causing harm or pain in any manner, nor did it cause confusion to attempt perceiving so many words at once, because they said the same thing. “On the planet in which you were raised, it was Erwin Schrödinger and his theory about a cat in the box that intrigued me,” it gave the impression of a gesture, or animation of such, though she couldn't say for sure one way or another, and it continued, “the concept of being both alive, and at the same time, dead. an impossibility, and yet, in the basis and theory of quantum mechanics, nothing is impossible.” The voice echoed across the cosmos, like a crescendo of thunders, and the whisper of a gentle breeze. The sad part, she realized, was that none but she could hear, or perceive. Perhaps because of the unique circumstances surrounding her.

Though she thought it only, it was as if it were aware of the unasked question, and it replied, “I am the voice of our surviving existence. I speak the words of Anu, Enlil and Ea. My name... is Ilabrat.”

On the cosmic winds, the words shifted - reflections of references made. A language transcending comprehension. History unravelling one syllable at the time. Words of Cronos...of Inti...of Yahweh...of Odin, Thor.......name...is Metatron....is Metatron...is Metatron.

She was instantly curious, and again, Metatron seemed to understand without requiring her to speak, “I am the embodiment of the paradox; something that is, and at the same time, something that isn't, couldn't, perhaps even shouldn't be.”

She wanted to ask for specifics, but she thought about its words, and realized the answer would likely be beyond her. Easier if she would just accept it as it was and move on. She couldn't tell if it perceived her thought process, but she got the impression it was pleased, or perhaps, satisfied, and she "walked" across the distance between the two of them to stand beside it, and observe the universe in is movements. It was beautiful, and a memory of herself awakened, as she let her own light grow, and build, and then shift to imitate the turnings and movements of the galaxies and the stars, she looked almost like a being made of the very fabrics of the universe itself.

“You love this universe,” said Metatron, and she looked at it, “you love the life you can see within every world. Your gods.”

It wasn't asking, and she wasn't surprised anymore that it could tell without requiring her to say so. After all, she was already dead, wasn't she?

“Do you believe so?”

So simple a question to an unasked question, and immediately she began to doubt. Her light and glow shifted in colour to show her emotions, as she felt conflicted within. In space, she observed listlessly as darkness was beginning to engulf the entire universe, like a sinister form that was not alive, yet, sentient, aware. And she felt a form of indignation towards it.

She could not perish now, not when the dawn of understanding was lit within her.

“A word of caution,” said Metatron, “with a word of hope; It will be worse, before it gets better. More than that, should you choose to return, you will be far diminished from what you once were, even as you become more than before. Knowing this, do you wish to continue?”

It seemed to be weighing her decision and her very being. It made her a little unnerved, but she knew she had to be resolute and certain. She didn't really believe there was a choice in this matter. She could not leave, not when she had a chance to do something. People believed the Alata were weaklings and cowards who hid behind the excuse of pacifism because they were too weak to amount to anything. Their strength did not lie in force of arms. Rather, it was in spirit that they were strongest. And she was not going to fail her people.

She looked at Metatron and nodded, her decision made. It seemed to understand, and though she could not truly perceive its movements or motions, she heard its unending flow of voices, as it said, “It is not I who govern the ebb or flow of life. It is not I who shape the existence of your past or future lives. You are here, and you are not, but what you may become, is not wrought by me. It is the consequence of all our actions, echoing in eternity, and beyond our present existence. I am merely grateful to have met you, if ever so briefly, before consequence took you away. For you were here, and you were not, just like me. Farewell, Alata.”

She faded from view, and the entity turned to study the movements of the universe with endless fascination.

- FIN