The old man sighed dramatically, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully. The last of the hot flashes below began to fade, leaving behind a
darkness broken only by the white flakes of fallout that drifted lazily across the once brilliant blue planet. Beside him the dark coated lord of the
underworld shifted nervously.
This was not what he expected.
“You said there’d be survivors,” he stated flatly. The old man sighed again, gazing over the once blue world.
“I said they’d come out of this warring phase. The seventh fire was supposed to be the one that guided them toward peace and prosperity. The
eighth fire was supposed to be the turning point. Not their annihilation.”
“Well don’t look at me. I played my part. The evil ones were supposed to push just hard enough for them to want to push back, and rise up against
them.”
Across the room others looked on, their own expressions between horrified and bemused. An elder man, dressed in elegant greens and blues, leaning
casually on a trident, watched the now blackened stone intently.
“So does this mean we get another go?” he asked, almost nonchalantly. Beside him, a great warrior, his golden braided beard covering much of his
face like a poorly woven straw hat nodded in agreement. He waved his great hammer in a circle, leaving sparks of lightning in it’s wake.
“Indeed. I would like another turn at this. You and your sons seem to steal the spotlight every time we do this. Perhaps the game needs to
change.” The old man shook his head slowly.
“We have done this before with different faces at the head of the table. The humans seem to get to this point of their evolution, and it is always
the same. They destroy themselves.”
“Perhaps taking away their free will this time will solve that.” The speaker, a beautiful woman with wispy silver hair and skin of the bluest
ocean stepped forth, tapping her oaken stave on the floor. The dark one laughed mockingly.
“You’re just tired of being the one raped every time we do this,” he challenged, the blue woman’s fiery eyes lighting up.
“What I’m tired of dark one, is you whispering in these human’s ears that the only way to salvation is to strip my creation of it’s life! We
always begin with the humans only consuming what they need, and sure enough by the time we’re finished, they have cut off my very sustenance, and
starved themselves.” One by one the others joined in, their voices echoing throughout the great hall, the argument reaching a fever pitch as each
joined their voice to the chorus.
A boom of thunder so prevalent, that it shook the very floor they stood upon, silenced them all at once.
“Enough of this!” the old man thundered, his words seating all assembled in a heartbeat.
“This bickering is pointless. The humans are to be created with free will, as they always have been. If they choose to be the progenitors of their
own destruction as was the case with this time around and all the others before it, then so be it. Lucifer, you will, as always be the one to corrupt
mankind, as was the deal made at the beginning of this. Gaia, you will be the birth of mankind in their vegetative state, and nurture them to a
spiritual state as we always have attempted.”
“Hades,” the dark one muttered, “I prefer the name Hades. Lucifer sounds far too noble.” The old man rolled his eyes.
“As for you others, you will aid the humans as they develop through their vegetable and animal states. And please, no cross-breeding this time.
Adding animal and mineral genes to humans without the inclusion of a soul to create these ‘were-creatures’ as you called them wasn’t funny. We
all knew how that turned out last time.” A few in the back of the hall snickered at that eventuality.
“Now then, if no one else has anything else to add,” he turned his sharp gaze upon all seated to indeed make sure they didn’t, “We will reset
the clock and cleanse the earth again, so the humans can have another turn at this life.”
At the back of the room, an old man that resembled an ancient tree turned to a great bronze and gold clock. It had stopped at November 9th, 2014, by
the current human calender. Barely 5000 years in this time, and they had already destroyed themselves.
“Father Time?” the old man asked as the old oak spun the hands back to zero. After a moment he nodded as the tiny second hand began to tick
again.
“The clock is reset. Let’s see how long it lasts this time.”
edit on 2-9-2012 by 74Templar because: (no reason given)
edit on 2-9-2012 by 74Templar because: (no reason given)