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War in the Heavens Zebulon By the time humanity discovered the jumpgate in the solar system, the Annunaki had been gone for over two thousand years. Yet in the span of galactic history, that was little more than an eyeblink. In truth, as humankind spread outward across the jumpweb, they were treading upon battlefields where the ashes were still warm. For the most part, the human colonists were oblivious to the devastation they had been spared. Yet some, the more perceptive among them, were sensitive to the psychic resonances left behind by the war in the heavens. One such man was Zebulon, who came to be known as the Prophet. He traveled the jumpweb, seeking answers to the greater mysteries of existence. His quest was answered by the revelation he received on Yathrib--a gift, perhaps, from one of the Empyrean guides. Zebulon was blessed with a vision of the Holy Flame at the heart of all things, gaining insight thereby to the process of creation itself. It was revealed to him that salvation for sentients lay in reaching that realm of Light. He also saw images of the cold, dark realms where demons rule--a warning to beware those insidious entities bent on seizing control of the universe and perverting it toward their own ends. The Prophet left Yathrib with the knowledge that there was far more to existence than the life and death of the physical body, so dependent on material things for its survival. Our passage through life was but one step on the journey--our quest for spiritual enlightenment and the salvation it held for the undying soul. Zebulon saw that Earth's previous religions had all glimpsed portions of this truth, and surmised that humanity had simply not evolved far enough to comprehend more. Until now. Having reached the stars, humankind had arrived at a critical juncture in their evolution. Zebulon shared his message of hope with the rest of humanity, and thereby made it possible for many of those who heard, and believed, to begin their spiritual journey toward the Light that holds salvation. Yet as profound as the Prophet's vision was, the mistake that his followers made was to assume that his revelation was the last, and that no more truths would come to light after his passing. Their shortsightedness was hardly surprising. Few sentients possess the clarity of mind required to see beyond the material demands of their own physical existence, to the greater truths that lay beyond. The Fall of Man For a time, it seemed, the majority of human beings heeded Zebulon's call to quest, reaching outward for spiritual growth even as they explored the jumpweb and settled worlds far from the Earth that gave them birth. Yet the pleasant distractions of the flesh proved too great a temptation, and humanity turned away from the spiritual path. Rapid technological advances, following in the wake of political emancipation, opened the door to possibilities unforeseen in Zebulon's day. Why worry about heaven, when technology might offer human beings a paradise of their own making? Sadly, in their race to replicate the more practical aspects of Ur and Vau technology, humanity skipped over many essential scientific paradigms they would have discovered had they pursued pure research on their own. Without these theoretical underpinnings, human researchers were all but unaware of the larger universe beyond that which is accessible to mundane senses. They stumbled along blindly, ignorant of the truths that might inspire humanity to resume the spiritual course Zebulon had laid out before them--and oblivious to the dangers that awaited in the farther reaches of the cosmos. The Church was right to criticize the materialism and soulless technosophy that dominated the Second Republic. The selfish pursuit of personal gratification inherent to Republican society only served to alienate human beings from each other, turning them away from the enlightenment that would help them discover the spark of divinity within themselves. Worse still, Republic corporations, driven by greed, indulged in callous experimentation that cheapened the value of human life, casting a taint upon the souls of all who were involved. Human civilization had taken a turn down a dark road. As human civilization slowly succumbed to its spiritual malaise, the coup de grace for this morally vacuous age was sealed by the greed of a few. A secret cabal of corporate leaders and politicians had made contact with Qlippothic intelligences, having turned toward antinomy to advance their personal agenda. Theirs was the last in a long series of betrayals darkening the human soul. Lured by the promise of fabulous Ur tech beyond their wildest imaginings, the conspirators organized an expedition to what the demons promised was an Ur homeworld, its riches left undisturbed for thousands of years. Fading Suns For demons, deception is integral to their nature. The riches were there, to be sure, but they neglected to mention the dangers involved. The cabal's expedition jumped to what was once an Ur colony: Its sun was a dull cinder, and a planet that had been home to teeming billions was now a lifeless husk. As the team collected a number of intriguing artifacts, they noticed that their equipment was slowly failing--including the ship's systems. In passing through the gate, they had unwittingly reactivated the long-dormant entropy effect. Surrendering to panic, the expedition fled back to the Known Worlds. In so doing, they allowed the entropy weapon to infect a jumpgate in human space. Once the entropy effect escaped its long confinement, it spread quickly from gate to gate throughout the Republic--and from there into the Vau Hegemony and beyond. When the Second Republic fell, brought down by the avarice and corruption of its leaders, the suns of the Known Worlds were already beginning to fade. The scientists of the Republic were unable to explain the phenomenon, for it operated according to principles beyond their grasp. The nature of Qlippoth was alien to their understanding of the universe. If the elder Ur had failed to defeat the entropy weapon, what hope did the most brilliant minds of the Second Republic have of finding a solution? They were dealing with a larger universe than their theories allowed for, with spiritual qualities to which they had been blinded by their own short-sightedness. Humanity was now paying the price for its obsession with material gratification. The Church declared that the Pancreator was destroying the universe as punishment for humanity's sins: This was disturbingly close to the mark, but in truth humankind's suffering was wrought by its own ignorance. The fading of the suns was the final salvo in a war fought millennia ago--a war in which humanity was to be the last casualty. Ironically, the universe beyond the jumpweb was safe, for only stars with jumpgates were affected by the entropy weapon. Distant suns seemed to dim because their light was sapped of energy as it entered the localized entropy effect. Yet even had humankind possessed that knowledge it would do them little good. Every world known to have been settled by human beings had been reached via jumpgate, and humanity lacked the means to cross the interstellar void and reach other stars. A Dark Age In the deepening twilight, as the suns of the Known Worlds slowly dimmed, dark things came creeping in from the night. As the entropy effect wrought its damage upon each star system, it became easier for demons and their ilk to slip into the living universe from Qlippoth. The power at the disposal of antinomists and other dark occultists increased a hundredfold. The dead began to walk, and unclean things rose from the shadows. To the superstitious masses, shivering in the growing dark, it seemed as if everything the Church had told them was coming to pass. In a very real sense, this was not far from the truth. For the demons, whose enmity is bounded by neither time nor sentiment, the human race was just another pawn in their grand game to conquer fate. They had used the rebel Ur to further their ends, and they would sacrifice humanity without shedding a tear. The technology of the Annunaki could open the way to the engine of creation, and many of their artifacts were still out there, waiting to be discovered and reactivated. By robbing humanity of hope, by feeding into its baser instincts with promises of material rewards, they might manipulate humankind into unwittingly placing that technology in their grasp. The entropy effect killed the Annunaki quickly, amplified by the degree to which their technology had modified the astral grid near their homeworlds. It might take millennia to destroy the relatively pristine star systems that had once been mere outposts of their civilization. Given time, might humanity succeed where the elder Ur had failed, and defeat this insidious weapon? The past holds no answers, for the science of the Second Republic had taken a wrong turn down a dead end road. Alas, the hope for future innovation seems dim: The Church had deemed science anathema and progress had been abandoned. The only recourse, according to the Orthodoxy, is to set one's soul in order before facing final judgement. Yet the Pancreator does not punish sentients for their sins. The wicked suffer in hells of their own making, carved from the stuff of their own selfishness and stubborn pride. Damnation is the result of a choice, and so too is salvation. If a few brave souls can rise above the ignorance and apathy of their fellows, to quest beyond the comforting solidity of the mundane world in which they dwell, they might yet discover the eternal truths Zebulon promised are waiting out there among the stars. There may yet be hope for the human race. 3 |