Chapter 92 Prophecy
Man and God met on a midsummer night.
The magnificent facade of Hell vanished with the wind, revealing the temple's dilapidated state. The cool moonlight streamed through the open ceiling, yet there was no sign of desolation, for the most radiant being in the world stood there.
Enoch didn't understand what seeing God again meant; for a moment, his eyes were filled with that magnificent figure.
The translucent holy light veiled God's figure; the wind whispered in his ears, yet it couldn't stir a single hem of God's robes.
'The Creator'
Enoch sighed softly in his heart. He didn't even dare to call out aloud, for he feared he would awaken from this dreamlike scene.
The owner of the golden eyes sensed the man's awe, and the ice in his eyes slowly melted.
He admired this young man, admired his ambition, admired his courage yet aversion to conflict.
He admired Enoch's courage without transgression, his gentleness without weakness.
God spoke to Enoch, affirming his qualities, for his unwavering faith throughout the journey ultimately shattered Satan's temptations and attacks.
God's gentleness eased Enoch's tension, but he still dared not look directly into the Creator's light. He noticed that accompanying God's figure, many small blue flames appeared in the empty temple, drifting in the wind like rootless duckweed.
They seemed to have suddenly emerged from a dark corner, yet God said they had always been there.
"Death makes people pale, whether it is the body turning into decaying earth or the soul trapped here."
"Is this what people look like after death?"
Such a large person, yet after death, only such a light, floating flower.
One even drifted to his side, and Enoch unconsciously reached out to touch it, but it swiftly darted away.
He gazed at them, a deep sorrow welling in his heart. Had he not resisted Lucifer's temptations, had God not saved him, he too would likely be one of them now.
"Fearing death is not wrong, but one should not covet eternal life out of fear, lest one fall into the trap of hell."
God's words were a cold, stern critique of the souls trapped in the city of the dead, a stark contrast to the gentleness he showed Enoch, a chilling ruthlessness.
The eerie ghostly flames seemed to understand God's words, surging and churning, occasionally revealing the faces of those who had suffered in life.
Enoch, like the other souls, bowed his head in shame.
"But the fault does not lie with you."
He paused, then abruptly looked up.
"Michael."
He heard the Creator call out, and then the dome of the palace seemed to be torn open. The starry sky twinkled above him. In the deep night, a point of light approached from afar, moving with lightning speed, as if in an instant.
Responding to God's call, the radiant archangel, with its enormous six wings, swept in, turning night into day, and dazzling heavenly light streamed in.
Seraphim Michael, the first warrior of Heaven, was described by Edna as 'fierce in nature, possessing an absolute sense of justice towards evil.'
Under his radiance, evil had nowhere to hide.
Enoch had seen him; he had personally placed the golden crown on his head, his expression so serious it was heart-wrenching when he admonished himself to treat Edna well, yet after receiving affirmation, he smiled like a human boy.
In his angelic form, Michael possessed a magnificence unimaginable to humans; his crimson eyes looked down, his gaze meeting God's.
"My God."
The angel bowed his tall, slender form, his swan-like neck revealing a graceful curve.
"Lead them to Heaven and entrust them to the Messiah."
The Seraphim obeyed, flapping his wings and soaring high. His white feathers scattered points of light, and under the influence of this rain of light, the ghostly fire transformed into human form.
They landed on the ground, huddled together instinctively, shoulder to shoulder, their faces still filled with fear, as if unable to escape the shadow of death.
The Archangel once again bestowed light, and a heavenly ladder rose from beneath their feet, guiding them to the sacred realm of light.
The souls then realized what was happening. They began to run towards the ladder, while the angel flapped his wings beside them. Suddenly, he noticed a child who had fallen.
"There's someone so young!" The child looked only five or six years old, his face ashen, suggesting a difficult life.
Humans in this world have long lifespans; if they lived well, they could live for hundreds of years.
Not only this child, but all these people suffered the same fate; they endured the pain of life and would suffer hopeless torment after death.
Therefore, Michael showed no displeasure or contempt. He helped the child up and spoke to the crowd of spirits scrambling to enter.
"Don't push, one next to the other," he said, his eyes softening like the sun.
"God is watching you."
So do not be afraid.
The bells of heaven were close at hand. The moved spirits slowly slowed their steps, and a sacred song lingered in their ears.
'You will not be lost in darkness, for God is light, and we walk in the light as God walks in the light. Our fellowship is heavenly fellowship; we need never be afraid.' (1)
At the moment they were about to step through the gates of heaven, they suddenly came to their senses and looked down at the gods who hesitated to enter paradise.
God sensed the spirits' plea, and a rare smile appeared in his eyes.
'Go,' He said.
Watching the stairway of light and the souls disappear into the horizon, night returned to its original state, Enoch was filled with emotion. He gazed at the Creator, no longer avoiding the direct light.
Tears streamed down his face, yet he stared unblinkingly.
The light seemed no longer dazzling, no longer unsettling.
How could it be dazzling? How could it be unsettling?
On the contrary, the light warmed his heart and filled him with joy.
He asked if everyone could go to heaven after death.
God answered him no.
This was an exception. Hell had disrupted the order of the human world, and God had made an exception to atone for their sins.
The Messiah would establish new rules: only those who yearn for good and possess unwavering faith could enter Heaven.
Enoch felt a pang of melancholy. He had thought that if everyone could go to heaven after death, then he too would have a chance to see God again.
God blinked almost imperceptibly, as if surprised by Enoch's closeness and reluctance to part.
Suddenly, He extended an invitation to Enoch, asking if he would like to travel with Him to explore the world.
This was unprecedented; if the world possessed consciousness, it would surely tremble at this unheard-of combination.
Neither man nor God had ever done so. He had only ever traveled with a blind dragon before; Behemoth's mind was not mature enough to communicate smoothly with the gods.
The god and man traveled together, discussing almost everything.
They explored the trajectories of the sun, moon, and stars, and studied the cycles of plants and trees. Enoch possessed enough wisdom to keep pace with the god, and although there were things he could not yet understand, this did not hinder their communication.
In this unimaginable, cross-dimensional interaction, eternity passed in the blink of an eye.
Finally, Enoch followed the god to a place that was like a black hole, immeasurable.
He looked down and saw nothing there, not even a sky, nor any solid ground to stand on; it was utterly desolate.
He couldn't help but wonder.
"Is this the Abyss?"
The Abyss, as recorded in the Book of Heaven, is the lowest valley in the world.
"This is the Extreme."
With that, Enoch followed God and was transported inside the black hole.
He was upside down, yet felt no dizziness. He looked at the sky and was astonished to find his senses perfectly normal; in comparison, it felt as if he had been upside down.
"This is the lowest point, and also the highest point, the end of the Extreme. It can be called Heaven, or it can be called Hell."
God transcended time and space; he was omnipresent, indifferent to high and low.
Enoch pondered this. He followed God, upside down, walking through this bizarre and wondrous world.
God said this place could be called Heaven, or it could be called Hell, but he hadn't seen any angels or demons along the way. It seemed this wasn't Heaven or Hell in the ordinary sense.
The world seemed to consist only of them; even their footsteps were inaudible.
The road ahead was unknown, but he felt no fear, a strange sense of security enveloped him.
As long as God was there, even walking through the valley of the shadow of death was nothing to worry about.
Thinking this, suddenly a high wall made of crystal appeared before him, its translucent surface radiating a faint glow.
God led him to a door.
It was so grand, so majestic; even approaching it, one could feel a fierce wind blowing out from its cracks.
"There are twelve doors in total, but I can only show you three."
Enoch didn't ask why; he simply looked into the distance as God instructed. As God had said, there were twelve doors in the crystal wall, each facing one of the four directions.
Enoch carefully examined the twelve doors and discovered that they were all made with a base of gold, with surfaces of various precious stones, shimmering with iridescent light.
He chose one made of sapphire, one of agate, and one of amethyst.
The god nodded, gesturing for him to open the first door.
He pushed it open, and a white cow emerged from the ground. Enoch's eyes lit up; he recognized it as the white yak that had saved him on the snowy mountain.
It had disappeared after the wedding, and now it was here.
He reached out to lead it away, but the god stopped him.
"No," the god said gently.
Enoch was astonished to see two more cows emerge from behind the white yak, one black and one red.
They grazed peacefully, seemingly in harmony.
But suddenly, one cow ate the other's grass, and a conflict broke out.
The black cow attacked the red cow, knocking it to the ground, whereupon the red cow never rose again.
Crimson blood soaked into the black earth, and soon nothing remained.
The white yak turned back to look for the red cow, but it couldn't find it. It cried mournfully, then gradually fell silent.
She gave birth to many more white calves. They grew until they were the size of white yaks, then they mimicked the movements of horses to approach each other, and then gave birth to elephants, camels, and horses.
Then they began to attack each other…
Seeing this, Enoch suddenly understood what it was.
This was—
"Man's past."
"History is etched in time, however long it has passed," God closed the door with a spell, "even if the people involved have forgotten, traces will still remain."
"What you see first is the past," God said, looking at Enoch, and then gestured for him to open the second door.
Having witnessed the first door, Enoch sensed that God was now leading him to something extraordinary. He lingered before the red agate door for a while, until he had enough courage.
He pushed open the door, and instantly, bright red blood gushed out, drenching him, but without any stench.
But apart from that, the inside was empty, devoid of anything.
Enoch was about to speak when God led him to open the third door. This time, as soon as he opened the door, the pure and crisp air that rushed in invigorated Enoch.
The flames, seemingly made of crystal and as clear as water, radiated a light surpassing even the sun's. They flowed gently, slowly enveloping him.
While he was still studying this fiery yet fluid substance, he saw God already beyond the flow of flames, waiting for him. He was startled to realize that the lava was harmless.
"Not harmless at all," God chuckled. "Those with ill intentions cannot enter this place; upon approaching, they will instantly turn to ashes."
Enoch understood from God's words the Creator's high regard for this place. Even in the realm of light, he had never seen God create such a meticulously protected wall of fire.
He cautiously stepped across the flow of flames, and before him lay a picturesque pastoral scene.
Here, he saw wolves dwelling alongside lambs, goats sleeping with leopards, and lions herding with calves.
This seemingly miraculous phenomenon, defying the laws of nature, was everywhere.
"Is this Eden?"
"No."
This is a new world, the original blueprint created by God.
A beautiful, peaceful world.
"Can such a world truly exist?" Enoch's eyes widened, for as far as he knew, evil itself was part of the rules.
He seemed to realize something, and hurried forward until, in a valley, he saw human figures.
A raging wildfire burned fiercely, the apocalyptic scene of annihilation a stark contrast to the previous beauty and peace.
Here, all beings chanted around the flames:
'The souls of all fallen will be destroyed.'
'All errors will be eradicated.'
'All evil will be stopped.'
From the fire came the cries of the dying, filled with despair, regret, and fear, and an even more intense hatred and resentment.
Enoch couldn't make out the faces of the chanters; their features seemed to have been deliberately erased. Similarly, he couldn't see the dying struggling in the flames.
But this scene left him in a state of profound shock, so much so that he didn't even notice when God had brought him out.
Before the crystal wall, Enoch gazed at the remaining nine doors. God asked him what he understood.
He composed himself, no longer pondering what lay beyond those doors.
"You led me to the past and future of humanity," Enoch said.
"The first door is the past, the third door is the future of all things."
"Sin will be judged, and beautiful days will come to the world—" he said slowly, lowering his eyes.
"But the second door is beyond my comprehension."
God didn't speak. He led Enoch outside. The sun shone brightly, a gentle breeze blew, and the air was pleasantly cool.
For a moment, Enoch felt disoriented. He had entered the City of the Dead during the hottest time of year, but now spring flowers bloomed outside, the season different from what he remembered.
And compared to the vibrant life outside, he felt his stagnant time begin to flow, as if he had undergone a transformative journey, becoming both dull and light.
He was clearer than ever before, yet heavier than ever before.
The youthful vigor and the air of old age coexisted within him—perhaps the price to pay for experiencing what no human could endure.
He realized he wouldn't live much longer.
"Enoch,"
He looked up at the Creator, listening to him speak gently.
"Go, fulfill your final duty on earth."
The Creator's voice lingered, his thoughts seemingly drawn away, but when he looked back, the radiant figure was gone.
In that instant of emptiness, Enoch realized he had grown accustomed to being bathed in that light.
He embarked on his journey home, both strange and familiar. Nothing in the world held any appeal for him. He reflected on his days with God, on the visions he had seen through the three doors, and tried to understand what God was trying to tell him through those doors.
(You provide the author Danmu's [Hebrew Mythology]: The arduous process of creating a world)