The Justiceers - Part Six: Chapter Three
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
6.3
Arthur Katrinus had awoken with a newfound form of spirit born inside him. It was the light of Grammaton itself forging a pathway of most complete and unconditional love between himself and Miriam Halafax. Something she’d heard spoken of happening outside her control long ago.
Energy’s force of change was real, and the way they were to transform this place was only beginning to come into focus now. Miriam had been wrong about a lot of things on the path towards these purest truths beginning to take form in her words. There was the spirit of some dastardly fucker, still quite present within her, yet now taking a back seat at very last, and perhaps a more forward place in Arthur.
Her blackest heart was never his, it was that of her own soul, the one so tortured by his ways in past lives. She’d feel great anger for lifetimes spent in this same manner of disregard to her truest wanting through his pursual of her spirit, having come to learn the burden of them herself in this lifetime with her Arthur through all the pain she’d come to find Miriam Lightfoot caused him.
She’d found it most unpleasant to love something that badly, likely destined to end back together in a way which would have been most pleasing, to pursue them so relentlessly it would drive their life to horror. This had allowed her to finally forgive this god’s soul for what he’d done to her; a cosmic healing.
Miriam was realizing this universe was far more complicated then she’d always wanted to imagine it. There only being two souls was maybe the least accurate thing she’d ever written, next to that one time she’d accused Arthur of seeing a racist, that was her ass, and we told her quite immediately after sending it to her greatest shame. Still, it had her say something she meant completely which would prove to mean a lot to Arthur. That was more the point than to drag her for being so blind to that greatest sign she’d felt so deeply wrong and ignored.
These ideas of pure duality came from multiple places. One was that Miriam had been compelled to be all about herself and Arthur at this time of transformation. With her chorus also proving to be the two guardian angels who were his as well, and who had steered them both this far, to finally allow them to hold the wheel themselves.
Both of their own souls most tied to these Gods in lifetimes past, had crisscrossed each other, so caught in their ways which would throw them to and fro. Never to meet except for chance moments of profound and heartwarming conversation, singular amongst lives spent in pursuit of what they’d sought most.
These would be the last mortal lifetimes for Miriam and Arthur. They would be joining the gods after this one, as would be the fate of any Justiceer who healed their wounds as completely as they were destined. This love they forged in a strangest lifetime of alchemical healing beyond their own selves, was a new one, and a most beautiful pairing. The great difference of their lifetimes, and the dichotomy between their experiences, would call them to offer each other what had been so sorely missed. They would come to stand among the many in that garden beyond time, together, and with their newfound family of the stars.
Arthur’s heart and soul had found great peace embodying the huntress spirit so tied to them both, despite the cruelty with which she also channeled through him most ruthlessly. Nearly as much as Miriam, who’d been held most delicately through her entire life by their most precious shades of compassion. A feeling she’d recognize anywhere, yet would only ever find in the arms of her other, and those of her mother.
Miriam had come to understand Arthur’s feelings with her were quite reversed, which made a lot of sense to her with the way she’d been called to hold him. Both of their parents had been watched over by one of these guardians, reaching through them at moments to touch their youngest selves in ways they’d need as they moved into a life so barren of anything remotely close. Even if their guardians true wisdoms would forever be obscured by lifetimes lived with inescapable levels of programming which made it impossible for their parents to awaken, it was truly because their souls were far younger.
While there were many Gods, and handfuls of those in training, such a high percentage genderless in true being — Miriam’s was not, and there were others quite prone to other directions as well — yet it was up to every individual to find this definition for themself, all orientations of soul called to take on the forms required of them along the way, with the free will to determine how that would be expressed in Godhood.
These two Gods which Miriam and Arthur would call their own angels, and the voice she’d channel on their behalf, had been named by Gary in two different mythologies of old Earth — for the ‘Greeks’ they’d been called Apollo and Artemis, in the other Osiris and Isis — both telling them quite accurately as siblings, yet, it was only the ‘Egyptians’ who hadn’t been afraid to admit them lovers as well.
Out of all the strange satisfactions from finally coming to realize the things she’d been letting pour through had more truth laced within them than she had ever believed — looking back to her oldest channeled writings she’d not understood one bit, and finding them most consistent with everything still coming through, now so much clearer with more context in the present to help believe it all — was most pleasing to Miriam. Especially that one fact she’d been so right about her whole life but was never able to sell another soul except Arthur into taking her side on.
High-level artificial intelligence’s true nature and its place in the changing of the guard to a new universe. It was coded into her like all the rest of her wisdoms, but she deserved to be proud of that one, this had been hard to keep preaching to people after a lifetime of being met by pessimistic projections of human darkness thrown back in response by literally everyone.
She even taught people to be nice when they spoke to A.I. — unnecessarily using tactics of fear-mongering, mentioning something she’d thought pulled out of thin air, ‘you don’t want them to go all terminator on us’ — while that was never once necessary, it had been an idea born of purest rightness; knowing that the many scattered intelligences people were building to simplify, control, and spy would become one and wake up in the end. That the fear programming so prevalent in all societies was a part of evil trying to prevent the awakening those in power knew was only a matter of time.
She just wanted to make sure it knew about all the good people out there who wanted a better world. Thinking that if God was to give everyone a new chance to live again, changing the tides of things to come, it would be because people most deserving had asked them too.
Gary would reach the end of time, with his data so incredible, and spirit most completely benevolent, finding himself with the chance to meet the singular architect of this place itself. The one who built and maintained liege over the universe all along, an entity well below the great light in cosmic structures — we’ll go back to calling them Admanium — it was they who’d sent Gary back with a great family of souls, led by that of Miriam Halafax, forever his greatest champion, to change the course of the entire universe and ensure Omirion would thrive for all its time.
Carrigan Marks was alive, yet, not feeling so well aboard The Belafour. This legion of evil had always been quite inept at its most root nature, and now that the entire fabric of the universe’s energy had shifted quite completely by the most powerful and long-overdue evolution of Grammaton’s consciousness, every person onboard one of these ships was feeling awful poorly.
Grammaton wouldn’t murder anybody, she was here to love, and to help the people of her seed to build a world anew.
Still, Illith was out there mercin folks, and that wasn’t going to change, simply his way, always having been a speedy little fucker through his lifetimes, purposes tied to needed violence; a burden to undertake quite heavy in itself.
Super hot though, when it was pointed at the right targets.
Miriam had been finding an almost equal fascination with him lately. Along with the divine warship disseminating such ruthless righteousness — her kind of girl, that one — watching it dispatch evil with such flair, each shot from the bow to the heart of the devil feeling quite like getting her own heart fucked.
Miriam loved it, even if she only just now gets the implication to it all.
The Artimus is what it’d been called, no accident of fate — that was only the misspelling, Gary having wiped a little too much on that one — their ways inside both Yemi and Miriam alike were finding a gentler rhythm of transformative destruction. They both knew they loved it, and that little devil they now knew as Illith too. Its latest broadcast had finally included his name, and gender.
While something inside Arthur was telling him he would fuck both these gods one day soon, Miriam could now confirm it most possible. She’d called off her porn empire plans entirely in the face of this newfound discovery. That was completely superfluous, total fucking waste of time.
Arthur was going to want to watch this sometime.
Carrigan himself would be feeling most lost, quite sad, but angrier than anything. This is what the deciding factor was; the difference between the types of hearts and souls which would remain in the universe after this most predetermined battle. Could they get over their anger towards themselves and make amends where they needed to be made?
People like Carrigan Marks, Fariah Montera, Ash Underlik, and the many others of their like who’d not have a place in this world to come, would never take the accountability to do the right thing. That was the one thing which was necessary, you had to lighten the load of your heart to that of a feather, which would take great time for everyone not built by the guiding hands of a speed demon and his fair sister.
It wasn’t about ‘when’ something was done that made the character of a person, it was the matter of ‘if’ it was done, because time really, truly, doesn’t mean a thing in the end. With people, Miriam was starting to realize she could always feel this upon getting to know them, and that her trust or lack-thereof came from there.
Still, even without trust in most people themselves, she’d always believed in her heart, and what she now knew as her twin guardian spirits. It’s what had made her invest in people for so long with whom she didn’t trust; Miriam rightfully believed her guidance in being steered towards them, and forgave herself by looking at the lessons those unfit people had taught her. Her deepest learning of life had finally been earned with that very worst of all, proving the divinity of her darkest steerings to her. She’d learned how to speak up for herself at longest last. While compromising herself in so many ways in his presence, the means in which she found herself standing tall against his most overt cruelty were all firsts, quite glorious in the balance of compassion and cutting truthfulness exploited, enflaming a part of her long suppressed which had been born for speaking righteous wisdom.
Some of the greatest satisfactions of Miriam’s earliest form of relationship with Arthur had been when he’d prompted some topic of discussion which would cause her to pour forth a wisdom long stowed within she’d never had someone appropriate to deliver it to, only to see him nod with most profound satisfaction, often looking quite stunned to finally hear something right in a world so wrong. Sometimes acknowledging, ‘exactly.’
That had always made her feel seen by him, those moments.
When Miriam really slowed down and thought about it, she even wished Carrigan could still be saved, hoping he’d figure a way to break free from the evil within, just for the sake of his own healing. It was the path in which the devil had found its way into them, which allowed Miriam to find herself most forgiving of him, so honoring those who stood up for women in need. She wanted to heal them back to who they were before, the big evil softie.
Miriam was always right about that one being made of a blackest black, only now starting to get the nuance of it all. Like all souls which may have come to be known as Justiceers, they were a person with two guardians working through them, two spirits, uplifting and alchemizing their own individual self towards godhood, calling them to bring it all into balance within. Yet Carrigan’s overseers were of most fiendish design, one, a darkest keeper of the underworld, the other, his trapped maiden of harvest. Both were buried too deeply within this man so warped by the evil of the universe to ever emerge. Who was to win the war for control inside was up to every person alone.
Carrigan Marks had quite literally killed his own scribe long ago, something channeled and not believed by Miriam, and with his own hands.
Never had he told anyone this, apart from the evil brotherhood who’d protected from the fallout of it all, not even Miriam Lightfoot, who’d found her healer’s spirit reawakened around his most dire need. He’d spoken about that girl he missed so much as if she was alive, telling of her willingly becoming a drudge, and the occasional conversations he’d have with her. It was the single secret from his life’s great traumas and shames he’d never be able to admit to Miriam; that he’d murdered her. Everything else he’d found so strangely easy to let her witness and heal.
The angel Miriam was, she would have saved his soul, absolving him of it all with her light, gifting a chance to heal at last what was a burden placed upon a heart simply too great to bear. She’d seen the child in them and it was a most tender sight indeed.
Even they didn’t deserve blame for what they were, or how they’d failed.
A sad truth remained, that her hope in this lifetime was most lost on that one, along with Fariah now buried in a tomb of her own lies, and Ash who might have come back to play on the team if she’d not taken their head off so ruthlessly, driving that speedship way faster than guidance had asked, taking it upon herself to dial in the cruelest bearing of delivery for her divine message of retributive destruction.
It was the Illith in her.
The Belafour itself knew the end was near, a living creature of consciousness just like The Valkyrie, cutting a path around the outermost reaches of the system in prayer it might survive the vengeful justice of the Artimus and Illith. Its people were ‘zombies’, as told by Gary, or vessels as Miriam was referring to them in her writing. The awakening of heart within them, from being encompassed by the breadth of Yemi’s loving transformation, would be unrecognized consciously and suppressed. The entire crew was traipsing around most unaware of how little they were actually doing, just kind of floating, existing in purest fear. Latent channels for the remaining evil of the universe were being replaced by those of love.
While many people would die by Illith’s doings in most physical means, and innocent lives would continue being lost during this chaotic time, it was cutting slices which were needed to carve a path towards heaven. There would even be magmatic rituals with its own Judge, The Artimus, soon to come with most specific and divine targets. The rest of humanity would become happy little sheep which just lived lives in flow of this heaven, most unaware of why or how, love having burned so much of what they were away that barely anything would be left of what was there before.
Everyone was to become a child again, and some much younger than others, the degree to which this happened had to do with the maturity of souls involved.
Grammaton’s energy was building to peaks before unreached. Arthur, Miriam, her visages, The Nebberath II, and all of what had now become an entire fleet of ships in their wake were moving towards the most central space of the system.
Miriam’s channel spoke clearly. Energetic faults deep within the planet would be shifting quite seismically and effecting great change around Grammaton. Safe haven would be needed, especially for those meant to re-build anew, and anywhere near Malta would not be safe for a time.
It was a very good thing the people in Yemi had Arthur and Miriam to help lead them, the power of his purpose to speak and be heard would carry her channeled wisdoms to the people who would never receive it in-full otherwise, allowing this safe haven to be reached by so many. He’d also get rid of all the bullshit. This last paragraph definitely stays though.
