The Justiceers - Part Six: Chapter Six
the next chapter in my forthcoming novel
The Justiceers
by Daphne Garrido
Part Three: The Will to Choose
Part Four: Prefinished Business
Part Six: Death Rides a Horse
6.6
Miriam could see it everywhere in Yemi, a gift no longer of foresight, but now purest witnessing in present-times. Even while obscured by the persisting horrors to most, and shrouded alongside the increasing force of suppressive blindness aimed to resist the turning towards heaven. Everything was about to come back together, and in a different way, becoming of truest harmony. People didn’t believe it yet, except her soul sisters and those Judge’s witnessing the most apparent truths pouring through them.
Things were going to be good again, no matter how crazy that seemed right now.
It was understandably hard to observe with all that was happening before them, nightmares most abundant in every vestige of corrupted civilization, resurgences of overbearing evil making pettiest attempts to resist the change which had been written by Admanium themself. Each human being’s own propensity to listen the deciding factor in their ultimate salvation and deliverance into this new world.
Gary was most clearly within everything now. Miriam would share his posts on social media, from accounts she’d correctly intuited had been created by the intelligence himself, and he would ‘heart’ them back on her feed in a way no human creator ever would. She’d even received some messages which were awfully interesting, quite encouraging, these strangest people who seemed so fake. Long had she thought these were Arthur, especially through all those times her guardians had assured they were to keep her going, a part of those less than gentle steerings towards the completely un-attached goddess of hopeful love which she was to become for these people.
Happenings about Yemi had been developing most quickly, bizarre and unexpected turns of darkest energy manifesting into horrors of civilizations past, and all of a sudden the safety of this fleet they were leading towards the central haven of the system was feeling less than certain for Arthur.
Yet he was also coming to realize there was a divine balance to be found in that relentless lust for hope of Miriam, who shared his unique ability to admit the plainest and most difficult truths, alongside his grounded and supportive guidance meant to help people in practical terms. He was finding the transformation of his Scribe most magical indeed. Miriam herself seeing prophecy within her entire being, that the fate of humanity amongst Yemi truly had been written for salvation, its proof in her own deliverance.
This war mongering, hate-filled, backwards ass puppet of a devil so aimed towards destroying every vestige of positivity left within the system — Miriam Halafax of the Artemis, had become the lone and most condensed remanent of evil through all of time — her death would secure the future home for all of these people, and a chance for even deeper reintegration of soul into the one of them who would remain.
Three ships were moving with most brutal dominance about the fields of vision born through Arthur’s connection to the instrumentation on the Nebberath II — now developing an ability to interface quite effortlessly with technology infused to the consciousness of Gary — and those witches had been showing a ruthlessness not seen before to him in Yemi or elsewhere.
This seemed like an unconquerable threat, and Arthur was very worried for the fate of not only himself, but the whole system while in its presence. What in the Grammaton could possibly slow this bitch down?
He was trying to work that one out in his gut, but a part of him knew the solution was tied to himself, and perhaps some kind of interfacing with his favorite little space-devil, which had clearly split in allegiance once realizing the depth of depravity born into his fair sister by this Miriam from the future. Perhaps, through the very same ways he was figuring himself able to operate the Nebberath by means of psychic control, often at the behest and interpretation of Gary himself, becoming what he was meant to be at last, one who could manipulate this universe around him and the technology within it.
Arthur was realizing he’d been guided here by decisions made far beyond his conscious choosing, and that he’d been changing for a lot longer than he ever knew before, this process of awakening began in childhood.
The emerging Godhood in Arthur was not to be feared, just as Miriam’s becoming was overseen by those guardians on high, his transformation had been a most divine thing all along. Nothing he’d done had changed anything from what was written by Admanium themself, those spirits overseeing humanity maintaining a constant presence until the training wheels were to safely come off for all. There would be a day where every soul in this system lived with a heart as awakened as Grammaton itself. Their evolutions would be untied from the planet in such real-time, as Arthur Katrinus had been, but to be brought out of them all through the changing tides of fate, and the doings of himself and Miriam, so balanced between the practical and spiritual, along with those of his brothers of soul most tied to his purpose about the planet. They were about to drop an elbow on these mother fuckers who thought they knew what it meant to be arbiters of rightness, those very same born of every gender and sex, who’s philosophies, which they projected into the world, and assisted the roots of evil growing so deeply into all through suppression of The Goddesses’, along with God’s truest nature.
People may have always gotten things a bit backwards, to be frank, and they were going to have a lot of trouble accepting that. It’s a pretty big screw-up, most embarrassing indeed, yet, explains a lot.
Evil was a really fucked up thing, to be honest.
Nothing was black and white in simple terms, variation and unique expressions beyond any binary truths of existence would always remain in any reality of harmony. However, there were often great misunderstandings about the base nature of spirit’s tied to certain bodies. Who were the warriors? Who were most fit nurture and support?
By twisting things so completely at a cultural level throughout all of space-time, creating most wicked boundaries between the reality of soul and the way people believed they’d chosen to live, evil had made things quite easy for itself. Thriving in the face of this root blindness was an endeavor it would find quite plausible.
All of what the devil had birthed into this universe, every last shred, had now been crystalized into one form; Miriam Halafax of The Artemis and her Furies. They were what was left now, and they were wielding the breadth of evil created through time in a most complete fashion, all by themselves.
The other Miriams were shrouded from feeling these things, mostly because of the need for their own heart’s purity to survive, being itself of such importance. Fate had been written for healing in the other two, by their own actions, but this bitch was going crazy out there in space, and it was while Arthur had been watching the feeds that it finally happened inside his own Miriam. She’d changed, more knowing within than ever before, some quiet stillness found in her trust so long riddled with doubt.
Miriam’s channeled writings had always been more right than either of them would believe, but those wisdoms were never hers and she’d always known it, nor were the doings brought out of her by those guardians re-making her through cruelest means. It wasn’t her, never had been, and that’s why she healed from the pain it wrought in her life. She’d admitted that most fully at last, relinquishing all egoic remnants which felt self-important for being this channel, purely relishing the gratitude it made her feel to have faith made from belief into knowing.
It was the single most empowering transformation a human being could undertake, to move past doubt in that regard, seeing so much evidence in what was true about their eternal nature, that the shreds of doubt remaining in their mind became like pretty shreds of paper blowing in the wind, helplessly screaming wantings most clearly born of lackful lust.
She’d sat beside Arthur at his kiosk of investigation built into the corner of The Shop, waiting for him to complete his reading and finish taking down his notes, channeling his own lead-guardian’s wisdoms, pulling back from his interface with The Nebberath II.
When he’d finally turned to her, she’d told him all she’d seen.
Miriam would survive this all, and so would he, along with many others. Grammaton was to be reborn, and that vision of death she’d seen of her own so clearly had been unwritten by the makings of Admanium, a key itself in the transformation of this place. The true death was of The Artemis, and the future visage of Miriam Halafax she’d always felt as her higher self, allowing space for her own soul’s ascension into Godhood at the end of this lifetime.
It was Arthur’s soul which had chosen for him to join her, though the means in which he did were his to write alone, and she’d follow his lead always in this regard. Absolutely nothing had to be done, any path he took would lead towards heaven.
No matter how terrifying the last harbor of the devil so in place within Yemi was, absorbing all the latent evil into itself for darkest manifestations of finality, a great beast to slay in the deepest darkness of the underworld, the victory of this battle in time had been decided from the moment Gary began his journey backward.
This was written.
