Quantum nightmares, p.41
Quantum Nightmares, page 41
“You had the foresight to move the Atlanteans, and they thrived in isolation. You know a species will not reach ascension if they are unable to overcome racism, so you reintroduced them to different races, and they have thrived in unity, son.”
The old man saw a faint hint of hope, a twinkle in Michael’s eyes as the walls mirrored what the old man spoke of, and indeed, Michael saw them living in a proverbial utopia and a spark of hope lit in the essence of his soul. The old man knew how powerful hope can be.
All you need is a spark, the old man thought.
“I have no doubt Zeta Reticula will achieve the committee’s purpose in record time,” continued the old man, “and it will undoubtedly be the new blueprint for running a planet.” He grabbed Michael’s arms, raised them to the side, and spun him about in slow circles so he could take it all in. “This was all your doing, son,” he said, “you’ve already done it once. Can’t you do it again? With a new planet and free reign.”
The old man had the same knowing twinkle in his eyes as when he was pretending to forget earlier, and Michael had a sudden revelation—he realized it was all a charade.
“You lied to me, sir,” he said, clutching his chest.
“Whatever do you mean?” the old man asked innocently.
“You’ve been planning this the whole time. Haven’t you?” Michael said. “You played me.”
“Played you?”
“You used me.”
“I motivated you, son,” the old man snapped. “After the failed third cycle, I knew, statistically speaking, we weren’t going to prosper in the succeeding cycles, and I love humanity too much to perpetuate the same problems.”
The AAR shadow modality was still operational, and Michael realized this really wasn’t the desperate attempt of a failing mind but a well-contrived plan that went back twelve thousand years.
“So,” the old man said, “I decided to do something drastic, and I gave the one person who knew humanity better than anyone else full autonomy and just look at what you did with the opportunity—the Atlanteans are going to ascend, Michael.”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t want this,” he said stubbornly. For as the old man had just pointed out—no other angel knew humanity better than Michael, and he genuinely didn’t think they deserved to ascend.
They’re far too dangerous, Michael thought. They can’t even coexist amongst themselves. What will happen when they have entities pure of heart to exploit?
“The burden is already yours, I’m afraid,” the old man said, sullenly.
“How am I to even convince anyone I’m the new ascended master?” Michael said, tugging hopelessly at strings.
“You mean despite your newly acquired powers and distinct glow?” the old man said, with raised eyebrows. “Azrael has been made privy to my plan for some time now.”
Michael didn’t wish to see any backdoor deals between his twin flame and his favorite ascended master, so he put his fingers on the screen and moved them diagonally a foot apart. As he stared at the massive blue marble, he recalled Azrael’s unsolicited showering of sirs, and then it made sense—it all made sense.
The old man felt his chest tighten, and a sense of urgency enveloped him. “Please, Michael, you must promise me you will end their suffering,” he begged, “you must—you must—you—ahhhh—”
The light vanished from the old man’s eyes. He swatted at the air and went about in circles like a mayday plane crashing to the earth. When he hit the ground, Michael could hear bones cracking followed by a hissing sound as the door opened.
“What the hell just happened, sir?” Azrael said. “There was just an unscheduled earthquake in Japan. A massive tsunami is rapidly approooo—oh.”
As Michael cradled the old man, his skin slowly atrophied like a grape left out in the unforgiving sun to dry. “He’s decided to self-destruct prematurely,” Michael said.
Humanity broke his heart, Michael thought resentfully. They broke his fucking heart.
“He didn’t want to prolong their suffering any longer than was necessary, sir,” Azrael said. “He knows he’s failed. He’s known for some time now.” Azrael walked over to his twin flame and embraced him.
“He did what he did because he believes in you, Michael, and so do I,” Azrael said. The old man contorted on the ground, and Azrael said, “Activate self-destruction module.”
A hatch in the floor yawned open, and an apparatus that looked like a transparent coffin crept up with mechanical precision.
“Help me get him into the container, please, sir,” Azrael said.
When they tried to raise the old man, he kicked, punched, and flailed spastically on the ground. He screamed hysterically for Michael to come to his aid, but when Michael reached for the old man, he sunk his teeth into his hand. Michael recoiled and looked down at him with a broken heart.
“Don’t touch me, you scoundrel,” the old man screamed in a panic. “Where is Michael? I demand to speak to him at once.” He squinted his eyes aggressively. “Do you know who I am?” he said. “Where is Michael?”
Although Michael was only a few feet away, he may as well have been in another galaxy entirely.
“We must get him into the pod before he supernovas, sir,” Azrael said. Then with a sense of urgency, “He is no longer your master but a ticking time bomb.”
From the old man’s solar plexus an orange glow started emanating—his essence, leaving his body.
An obnoxious alarm indicated an ominous detection, and a disembodied voice boomed from the PA system. “Dangerous energy detected,” a robotic voice said, “please place in the module, or destruction is imminent.”
Michael went for the old man’s arms, but he chomped at Michael’s hands once more. “We don’t have time for this, sir,” Azrael said. “I’m so sorry, sir.” The apology was just as much directed at Michael as the old man. For he knew how much his twin flame loved the old man so.
“Destruction is imminent,” the robotic voice warned, “dangerous energy detected. Please—”
With no regard to his old, frail body, Azrael picked the old man up and flung him into the pod. Once loaded with the dangerous pay-load—which harbored enough energy to destroy whole galaxies—the swinging door collapsed unto itself. Michael stood by, crying helplessly; he couldn’t bring himself to hurt the old, beloved man.
As the old man examined his new environment, a frantic paranoia engulfed his intellect. He hit the pod lethargically like a sloth fending off a pesky fly. The pod pulsated in a fabulous rainbow-colored hue every time he made contact as the remnants of his powers were being transmuted into energy, and like a dying star, he was going to collapse unto himself.
Gabriel, the archangel, came rushing into the room. “What the hell is happening?” he inquired. “There are earthquakes and tsunamis and voooo—oh.” He saw the old man frolicking about inside the pod. “Already,” he said, almost admirably, “he could’ve had another hundred years.”
“At least.” This from all three angels in unison.
Michael touched the pod lightly and gazed upon his favorite ascended master. “He didn’t want to prolong their suffering,” he said. “Speaking of which,”—they’re not going to believe this, he thought— “it’s time to initiate the total reset protocol. “
Gabriel snapped his head sharply at Michael. “What?” he said.
“His last orders are that we make the reset as quick as possible,” Michael said. “He doesn’t want them to suffer any longer than they must.”
Gabriel put his hands on his hips. “That’s not the procedure, Michael,” he said in a smug tone. “We’re supposed to save some for posterity and then restart.”
Did he forget I incarnated as Methuselah? Michael thought.
“I know the SOP, Gabe, but he doesn’t want any of their current social constructs bleeding into the next cycle.”
“But, Michael, it’s not—”
“Just fucking do it, Gabe,” Michael snapped.
Gabriel thought about it before responding. “No,” he shook his head, “the old man no longer has authority. Who did he pick as his successor?”
“Him.” Azrael patted Michael on the shoulder as he made toward the door. “I’ll start it, sir.”
“You?” Gabriel said. Michael answered only with a subtle nod. “How’s that even possible?” But even as the question left Gabriel’s lips, he noticed Michael’s pronounced glow and witnessed his eyes change color, and Gabriel knew it to be true.
“How would you like to relieve Lucifer in the Dark Knight for the duration of my tenure?” Michael asked, referring to the archaic black satellite which orbits the earth. Lucifer had been stationed there ever since he helped the dark ones infiltrate the soul regenerator machines. It was, in fact, the most despised of assignments among the archangels and the closest thing they had to solitary confinement.
Gabriel fell silent as he could think of nothing worse than the possibility of being isolated for 25,920 years.
“Right now, as we speak even,” Michael said, “humanity is in great peril. We must first end their suffering, and then I’ll explain everything to you if I must.” He resented Gabriel for making him explain. “But for now,” he said contemptuously, “will you please get the crew to prep the ion thrusters?”
Gabriel nodded and walked away with his nose hanging in the air.
Alas, Michael was alone with the old man. He had the expression and demeanor of a scared child, hiding under a bed from a terribly frightful monster. Michael thought the look appropriate and reasoned that the terribly frightful monster was humanity at large.
The old man scanned the clear pod, which was much lower than Michael would’ve preferred, and as he thought he’d like to sit, a chair manifested out of thin air. The manifestation was quick and concise and an irrefutable indication that he was, indeed, the new ascended master.
Just as he sat, the old man seized and contorted and even outside the thick pod, Michael could hear the tearing of flesh as bones ripped through the old man’s caramel-colored skin. Through the exposed gashes, revealed the old man’s true essence—a blinding light—which winked through the cracks like sunlight under a canopy of dancing leaves. But Michael knew what was happening—
Energy can’t be created or destroyed, only redistributed. As such, following the natural order, the old man was due to implode, and the bulk of his essence would be transmuted into the new ascended master while the remaining energy would be shot down in a particle beam to wreak havoc on the earth like a scorned ex-spouse.
Michael wished the old man would stop fighting the process and spare himself the agony, just as he did for humanity.
Above the old man’s unearthly screams, Michael heard the hissing door again. “The ion thrusters are ready, sir,” Azrael said, “just waiting on your command.”
Michael nodded and put his face to the glass pod. “Why is he fighting it?” he wondered aloud. “Why is he holding on?”
Azrael hovered over his twin flame and gently placed his hands on Michael’s shoulder. “He said he wouldn’t expire until he was assured that you’d put your hatred for humanity aside and achieve the mission, sir.”
Michael locked eyes with the old man, and a mutual adoration that had tethered the two souls together made him feel at home in the old man’s company. Michael decided his love for the old man vastly outweighed his hatred for humanity, and all at once, he vowed to honor him by achieving the mission.
“I swear on my life, sir,” he said in a low whisper, “I will get the inhabitants of Mars to the fourth density within my time. I—I promise, sir.”
Just then, as if a lingering remnant of the old man were waiting on the promise to be incanted into the universe and release him of his torment, the old man smiled a knowing smile. Then a brilliant light emanated from his mouth and eyes and ears and his body vortexed unto itself before vanishing in an immense blast. Michael’s body soaked up the energy, vibrations, and frequencies, and he felt his powers increase at the subatomic level. He relished in the sublime knowledge of the universe—so much knowledge.
Michael saw the Fibonacci sequence, fractal patterns, golden spiral ratio, and sacred geometry everywhere he looked. When he gazed upon the earth, he marveled at the creator’s artistry, and where there should’ve been nothing but empty space, he beheld a kaleidoscope image of the dark matter that connects everything—a webbed matrix tethering the earth and humanity to the cosmos—the Akasha.
Beyond the substrate of the physical world, in his mind’s eye, he saw the world from the perspective of the person whose eyes to which he was currently tethered. The perspective changed along with the eyes.
Michael closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the universe—a divine melody composed of all nine solfeggio frequencies and the Schumann resonance.
The door hissed again. “Sir, there’s been a pole shift,” Gabriel said. “Africa is the new North Pole.”
The immense knowledge Michael had just been given hijacked his autonomous system and deciphered the geometric equations. He acclimated to the foreign ability just as quickly as trying on a new pair of glasses.
“Activate destruction and custodial protocol,” Michael said.
The floor directly below the clear pod opened, and the old man’s remaining energy was released in a particle beam and sent shrieking toward the earth. The energy released would erupt volcanoes, spawn floods and tornadoes, and awaken the Leviathan and all manner of destruction would ensue. Then the stone giants scattered upon the planet’s surface and underneath her oceans would reanimate. They’d wait out the destruction for forty days and forty nights and then conduct their custodial purpose, ridding the planet of any evidence of civilization that wasn’t set in stone.
“That will be the last pole shift humanity will ever have to endure, sir,” Michael whispered into the empty pod. “I promise.”
The seat disappeared at the same time Michael raised from it. “Okay, gentlemen,” he said with a resurgence of confidence, “I know we’re supposed to let the destruction settle and fester for a bit, but wadasay we put those poor bastards out of their misery?”
A command center manifested out of thin air when he turned to face the translucent wall, and he sat down in a captain’s chair that molded to his physique brilliantly. A speaker dropped from the ceiling, and Michael spoke into the ship’s PA system.
“This is your new captain speaking,” he said, “under article 34892-Alpha/Zulu—humanity has been deemed hopeless to reform. I have no recourse but to invoke the total reset protocol.” He let the implications settle for a second. “Activate Lunar Module Command.”
The floor opened, and a small drone flew about. It hovered over Michael and scanned his body for the ascended master’s energetic signature, confirming his authority. “Hello, sir,” the robotic voice said, “what are your orders?”
“Prepare to initiate ion thrusters in T minus 60 seconds.” “Destination?” AI asked.
“Mars,” Michael answered.
A deafening alarm wailed incredulously, accompanied by a series of rotating red lights. “Commencing countdown,” the ship’s AI system said, “engines on. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight …”
The earth’s moon hadn’t been moved in millions of years. The subsurface quarters shimmied this way and that as the ion engines charged.
Michael thought of the conversation he had just had with the old man and how dearly he held him in his heart. His only wish was that he would fulfill his promise.
“Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight …”
I will, sir, Michael thought.
“Three,” I promise, “two,” if it’s the last thing, “one,” I do, “lift-off.”
Static electricity fused with molecules hanging in the air as the charge completed and earth’s moon rocketed within Mars’s orbit. Michael watched through the translucent wall as the earth became smaller, and smaller, and smaller yet. He knew the biblical destruction would be thorough enough to spare everyone a quick death.
But Michael had been around long enough that he didn’t dwell on this last failed cycle. His focus shifted to the task at hand, and he started formulating a game plan; starting from a blank canvas, they would terraform Mars, and then he would scour the Legion database to assemble a vanguard of willing star seeds, lightworkers, and other volunteer souls, in tandem with the incarnated angels to help guide humanity on the path to ascension once and for all.
1.For more on Ubuntu, read UBUNTU Contributionism—A Blueprint for Human Prosperity: Exposing the global bankingfraud by Michael Tellinger
Epilogue: Betty Hill’s Original Sin
AFTER THE THIRTEENTH CONSECUTIVE DAY of having these dreadfully vivid nightmares, Betty Hill sought support from a hypnotherapist. Under hypnosis, she recalled the encounter with the gray beings, and she realized they had lied to her. From the last dream Betty had, she knew they weren’t post-biological humans from the future, but the dark ones that Lucifer helped, the ones that Legion removed their souls.
Because of their fall from grace, they were excommunicated from source and couldn’t escape the entropic grip of the material world.
To remedy this, the fallen angels decided to use earth as a lab and humanity as lab rats in a controlled experiment to modify hybrids and genetically harvest souls. But they couldn’t circumvent the free-will policy of the universe until the Oracle found a loophole in the system— they only needed permission from one human if that human were to be immersed in the quantum field, which would connect them to all.
Betty recalled how the rest of the regressed memory played out.
The medical examiner placed the syringe in Betty’s navel and extracted her eggs. Then they went to meet her husband, Barney, and as they made their way, Betty noticed a whole farm of massive cylindrical tubes which functioned as artificial wombs where beings were being grown.
You are our first, the leader thought, but you will not be the last. After we incubate your eggs, we’ll place them inside one of them. He pointed to the beings gestating in bubbling liquid. And then find a way to get our souls back.
