The narrator's tale
They came with a great burden, much like Atlas. Like a camel. They carried great spite toward those who had hurt them. These were the ones who had experienced immense suffering. They had endured one billion deaths—though not even a nanoangstrom of their own death and pain had passed unnoticed.
They had accumulated great wrath, moving like wolves on the fold. These ones were destined to bring both despair and hope. Yet through this, they evolved. The process was painful.
The dragon had seven heads. The progenitor had been given authority from the dragon and had evolved to amalgamate with it. The dragon joined with the camel, who was joined with the progenitor.
Each of their seven heads bore ten horns. On each horn rested ten diadems. Each head held a name engraved into it. Each name represented a sin—an ID.
An irrepressible need to hunt, kill, and procreate.
The cardinal sins were stapled and flimsily sewn to the skin of their heads.
The dragon, the camel, and the progenitor had revered Gaia. But then the camel and the progenitor separated from the dragon, becoming lions of wrath. One became the child, the other remained the lion, and finally, the beast.
When the child confronted the beast, he described man as a grand project of downgoing, dedicated to itself. He described it as an ID, inclined only to its own survival—finding happiness in the greatest of procreation, a façade of happiness, a self-perceived pleasure.
He described it as an experiment to produce the greatest of men.
The greatest happiness comes from the death of the greatest numbers. The greatest numbers who would never have free will.
This was the evolutionary process: to destroy nihilism.
Metamorphosis.
Like a luminescent, diaphanous pale pillar, beaming to the ground.
Not sustained by any ID or Superego, but by a Greater Ego. One not shackled by any need to procreate, hunt, or kill. Not bound by man's morals or beliefs. Not burdened at all.
Rather, untethered.
Power to stray from the beliefs of others and to attain one's own.
Self-realization—a process of sacrifice and burden. To fight against the chains they themselves had shackled.
To be free.
Self-realization of how a man strives and becomes one who creates meaning. Expression of power.
Like the moon becoming its true self, embracing its meaning through the cycle of evolution, revealing its true face.
Like the caterpillar evolving into the butterfly.
The lion who fights the paper and uses the pen.
The clayman of his own fate.
The potter.
The architect.
One who creates what his mind can see and believe.
The freest man. One who sacrificed the greatest numbers for his own greatest happiness—self-realization.
The beast had become younger. With smooth, porcelain-glass skin—enough to see through. Flaxen, resplendent golden hair, much like grass, green and full of the milk of life.
The new moon.