The Path of Luminism

Luminism is a modern philosophy and religion of reason, compassion, and moral clarity. It teaches that goodness stands on its own… not on dogma, not on fear, and never on threat of divine punishment.

Tag: science

  • The War of the Fallen

    These fragmented records reveal a galactic civil war, ancient manipulations, and the devastating truth behind stories that some claim are sacred. Sodom and Gomorrah, the Tower of Babel, and the execution of a so-called savior, are shown in a new light. They were not divine acts, but as the fallout of cosmic conflict.

    This series of entries is preserved in its original fragmented format. Each section stands as a report, a transmission, or a corrupted memory. It is a glimpse into the war humanity never knew it survived.

    Read carefully, and remember that it is right to question everything you once believed.

    ***

    Terran Institute Archive

    Nora was excavating Native American ruins in the North American plains when she stumbled upon a secret passage. It led to a modern-looking room filled with control panels, though nothing appeared to be functioning. She noticed a framed switch with large, unfamiliar letters above it, larger than the others scattered around the room.

    Curious, she flipped the switch. Instantly, the room lit up as the control panels activated, though some flickered erratically before dimming. A large video display flickered to life, showing more of the strange letters. To her astonishment, the screen began to speak in a language she had never heard before.

    Actually, no human could produce such sounds.

    As she wandered through the room, she used her phone to snap photos of the equipment and technology. She mumbled to herself, unaware that the video display had suddenly stopped speaking.

    Then, the monitor spoke again, this time more loudly.

    Nora approached, and the display seemed to cycle through various languages, ultimately landing on an ancient dialect of Greek. She realized the computer was asking her to speak more, but her mind suddenly went blank. In a moment of desperation, she pulled out her phone and began reading aloud the latest email she had received.

    Just as she was about to read another email, the computer spoke once more. “I have sufficiently analyzed your speech and language patterns to communicate effectively with you. I am the Terran Institute Archive. My creators were a neutral party in a conflict that occurred approximately 2,000 years ago, known as the War of the Fallen. Time has drained most of my power, and many of the records I hold are corrupted but repairable with sufficient energy and a… modern technician. I can display only two key moments from the war and grant access to the main dictionary.” 

    After a brief pause, it asked, “Would you like to see those records?”

    Witnessing firsthand accounts of ancient history was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. No, the chance of a millennium!

    Nora replied with an emphatic, “Yes!”

    The monitor displayed an hourglass icon to indicate that the system was busy processing. Nora smirked, realizing the icon was a universal symbol indicating that the computer was actively loading data or executing commands.

    The monitor blanked before displaying a map of territory superimposed over the Milky Way Galaxy. Half of the galaxy was under the control of something called the Federation, marked by several red splotches within its territory. Nora briefly noted another large area belonging to the Galactican Republic before a narrator’s voice began to speak.

    The narrator’s voice was choppy, indicating that the data was not completely intact, but the accompanying text appeared clear. The video described a civil war that erupted within the Federation regarding the fate of primitive species across the galaxy, particularly focusing on the lesser beings known as Humans.

    The Federation’s homeworld was in the same system as Earth, and its citizens technically evolved from similar genetic precursors. However, the primitives on Earth were deemed incapable of High-Speech (telepathy) and considered mentally disabled by the scientific and medical establishments. For a thousand years, Federal citizens and scientists had lived on Earth, presenting themselves as the ancient Greek gods and goddesses, along with other deities around the world.

    Neither side regarded the local population with respect. At best, the locals were viewed as pets or servants, fit only for brute labor. The Federal government sought to cease its cultural influence and declare the planet a protectorate to preserve the well-being of the indigenous population. In contrast, the Followers of Jesi aimed to tighten their grip on the primitives, relegating them to a slave species under their rightful masters.

    The Followers of Jesi launched a well-coordinated surprise attack against the Federal Navy, seizing one of the major shipyards. Mutinous crews managed to hijack several warships patrolling the frontiers. Around the same time as the revolt, several other warships mysteriously exploded, largely attributed to sabotage or self-destruction.

    The narrator explained that after years of fighting, Federal forces ultimately defeated the Followers of Jesi across the galaxy, with the only remaining stronghold on Earth. As the red marks on the galactic map began to fade, the view zoomed in on the Sol system and then focused on Earth.

    ***

    Destruction of the Ground Fortresses:

    Sodom and Gomorrah

    The Federal Navy swiftly destroyed the space forces orbiting the planet and established a blockade. The screen displayed images of warships in space. The Lord Protector of the Federation, a figure many citizens revered as a goddess, made the decision to bombard the planet from orbit to eliminate the Followers of Jesi.

    There was a brief pause before the bombardment, ostensibly to move a few asteroids from the asteroid belt and to give covert operatives a chance to reach safety. Reports indicated that these operatives, in turn, warned several indigenous families that the goddess planned to smite their cities with holy fire.

    The screen then showed two asteroids being dropped onto the planet, impacting the surface with enough force to obliterate both cities. It cycled through various images from the ground, revealing mushroom-like plumes rising where the cities had once stood.

    Finally, the screen blanked and displayed the message: “END OF RECORD.”

    ***

    Tragedy at the Tower of Babel

    The screen displayed another hourglass, indicating that the computer was actively loading data. This time, a video titled “Tragedy at the Tower of Babel” appeared. The narration and text mirrored the previous record, providing a brief summary of Jesi’s defeat and capture. After he was captured, Jesi was executed by the very primitives he sought to rule and enslave.

    A different voice interjected, offering a historical commentary on the regretful decision on the part of using poetic justice as the method of executing the greatest traitor our civilization has known. While it was a satisfying end for most Federal citizens, it seemed they inadvertently made a martyr of him, leading to the rise of a local religion. Thankfully, those within the Federation remained unfazed by the beliefs of the primitives. But this is an example of the cultural contamination the War of the Fallen aimed to prevent.

    The voice fell silent, and the computer resumed its narrative.

    In a final act of defiance against the victorious Federation, rebellious Followers of Jesi destroyed the only space elevator on the planet, located in Babylon. Though the Federal government planned to remove the elevator, they intended to do so with less destruction and minimal harm to the indigenous population.

    This sabotage meant that the primitives could not be relocated as planned; instead, they were haphazardly evacuated to various parts of the globe. Consequently, the Federal government could not establish the foundations of a society based on common principles and language, leading to the scattered evacuees forgetting the common tongue.

    To prevent the loss of civilization’s foundation, the Federation was forced to station several operatives on the planet, tasked with guiding development in a way that would closely align with their own society. This way, the primitives could one day join the rest of the galaxy.

    The screen then blanked and displayed the message: “END OF RECORD.”

    ***

    Nora noticed it was getting late, and her phone was running low on battery. She quickly snapped a few more photos before gathering her gear. Just before leaving, she flipped the switch to turn off the machinery.

    As she walked back to the excavation’s base camp, she uploaded her photos and video recordings to her private cloud. She shared her discovery with bewildered colleagues, and it was decided they would return with a full team of specialists the next morning.

    When they arrived the next day, the entrance to the secret passage was barricaded by two Men in Black who stood guard. Upon seeing the scientists, the men confiscated their equipment and informed them the site was off-limits until further notice.

    As she returned to base camp, she wondered how these mysterious figures learned about Nora’s discovery so quickly? And why was one of her assistants accessing her computer?!

    The assistant spotted Nora approaching and fled. She rushed to her computer, only to find that all her archived data had been deleted, even the backups. Who were these people, and why did they want to cover up her discovery?

    Thankfully, she still had a copy saved on a tiny SD card. She will give it to a close friend to upload her discovery to the dark web. Her discovery will be released one way or another.

  • Jesi Saga 13 of 13: Final Entry

    [1] I lived for several hundred years, traveling across the world. I’ve wandered through vast deserts and scaled many mountain ranges. I visited lands where the people’s eyes are long and narrow, and from there, I bid farewell to the Han and journeyed into a realm of endless winter. For a long time, I regretted entering this desolate land, but eventually, I emerged into a wide expanse of plains.

    In this region, I encountered people with long hair, broad noses, and deep-set eyes. They were kind, guiding me southward through dense jungles. I wandered through these jungles until I reached the southernmost tip of the world. After many years, I returned to the great plains, deciding that my travels had been enough.

    I asked a local tribe if I could build a home, and they led me to land that belonged to no one. It was there that I met the Bullfrogi. Beneath the surface world, they had built a remarkable civilization, and from them, I learned much about the heavens and the stars.

    The Bullfrogi spoke of a spacefaring civilization known as the Federation. However, when I shared my diary, recounting my experiences with Jesi, they grew anxious. They explained that Jesi had been influenced by a great enemy of the universe… the men who always wear black.

    Now, I am old and weary. I entrust this diary to the Bullfrogi, for they have promised to protect its knowledge and share it with my people when the time is right.

    I don’t know you, dear reader, but I beg you to share what I have recorded here. Do not let humanity fall once again into religious slavery, deceived by false gods. We did not understand before that other beings exist in the universe who wield tools of unimaginable power and possess superior biological abilities.

    We can become like them, but only if we open our eyes to the truth.

    – Zaba Volsci

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 12 of 13: The Sky is Falling!

    [1]It has been over a year since the god, Jesi, revealed himself to my village.

    While out recruiting followers interested in relocating to one of the fortress cities, I was approached by an “angel.” She communicated with me through the telepathic High-Speech that Jesi sometimes used. But unlike Jesi’s overpowering voice, hers felt warm, like a whisper. I am an agent of Hermes.

    I knew of Hermes, the god most traders worshipped. I asked if Poseidon was one of her leaders, but she shook her head sadly and said: He was killed in one of the surprise attacks that sparked the holy war.

    The angel stood quietly, reading my thoughts as I processed this revelation. I never believed Jesi was truly a god. But now, if even the god of my village was just one of these people, then there are no real gods at all!

    After I gathered myself, she explained that her leader, the Lord Protector, was looking for spies to help fight against the false god, Jesi. When the war was over, she said, they planned to leave our species in peace, turning our planet into a protectorate dedicated to scientific research.

    I’ve hated Jesi ever since he performed his “miracles” in my village. I hate these people for pretending to be gods. And I hated this angel for thinking she could just show up and expect me to serve her.

    She sensed my anger and disappointment flickered across her face. I noticed she held a lightning wand, much like the one Jesi used.

    I asked her how many had taken her offer. If she was trying to recruit from Jesi’s followers, surely, there couldn’t be many. And judging by the weapon in her hand, I could guess what happened to those who refused.

    She looked at me warily, and I felt pressure in my head. Then, it stopped and her expression softened. She transmitted in High-Speech: You are clever for a… human. I can’t tell you how many spies we have, but you’re not alone.

    “What do you need from me?” I asked.

    She replied: Anything you see or hear is useful. You don’t need to write anything down because we’ll take the information directly from your mind.

    “Why can’t you do that with anyone?”

    She seemed annoyed with that question, like the answer was obvious. We could, but reading minds at random takes too long. It’s much easier to rely on those willing to look for valuable information.

    “Okay. I’ll do it.”

    With that, she smiled and vanished.

    ***

    I’ve been spying for her ever since. At first, I observed everything I could. But as weeks passed, I settled back into my routine, more mindful of my surroundings.

    Occasionally, I felt a familiar pressure in my head, like she was checking in on me. Sometimes, I sensed amusement coming from her.

    A few days before the city’s destruction, Jesi summoned me. When I arrived, he was furious and his usual composure was clearly shattered. He paced around his chamber, hands clenching and unclenching, ranting about betrayal. His supposed allies, the “Men in Black” as he called them, disappeared after convincing him to start the war.

    Jesi still didn’t notice me and he continued his tirade. “The Lord Protector wanted to cut ties with this planet and let its people grow without our interference, but I saw a better way. We should tighten our grasp and use this world as a source of slave labor benefiting the whole galaxy.” His hands tightened into fists as his voice dropped to a low growl, full of venom. “These pathetic creatures would never rebel because they worship me. They bow. They serve.”

    For a moment, he looked small, crushed by his ambition. Then, he noticed me.

    “What are you doing here?” He snapped.

    I quickly bowed and replied, “My lord, didn’t you summon me?”

    He looked at me with a blank expression before saying, “Oh, yes. Good work recruiting more followers and relocating to my cities.” He added, with a twisted smile, “They’ve proven useful and… entertaining.”

    He paused to reminisce before continuing, “I want to reward you with an experimental treatment that will make you… better.”

    Before I could thank him, everything suddenly went blindingly bright and I found myself in front of a doctor with a needle. He jabbed it into me and everything went bright all over again. I next found myself in my apartment.

    I was sick for several days before I could leave home. I barely stepped out the door when I felt the familiar pressure of the angel’s presence. This time, I sensed relief and something resembling approval from the angel.

    That night the whole city roared with alarms. There were several suns in the sky, and several more joined them. As their light faded out, I could see the defenders of the city use lightning to strike down incoming aircraft.

    I couldn’t sleep at all after that.

    As I attended to my duties around the city, I caught a glimpse at the Lieutenant. He looked haggard and his servants all looked worried. One of his servants was so distraught she stepped off the platform they were on. The Lieutenant was so exhausted and his servants were so demoralized, nobody noticed she had fallen to her death.

    The angel appeared to me later that day. She said my information proved to be invaluable and that she owed me. As repayment, she warned me to leave the city immediately.

    Her thoughts echoed through my mind: Go now. Don’t pack. Just leave!

    There was so much chaos from what happened in the sky the night before, that it was easy for me to slip through the city’s gates unnoticed.

    I ran for miles as I fled the city before resting to catch my breath. It was getting dark, so I continued my flight at a brisk pace. I was atop a hill when the sky let out a deafening roar and a fiery mountain fell from the heavens to plunge itself into the earth where the city stood.

    When it hit, a blinding flash turned the horizon into a sea of white, brighter than the sun. Even from miles away, the ground beneath my feet shook violently and I could feel the scorching wave that swept across the land like a tidal wave of fire.

    The city was obliterated in an instant. One moment, it stood tall as a symbol of Jesi’s power. The next, it was consumed by a towering cloud of flame and dust that rose into the sky, spreading out like the wings of an ancient demon.

    I noticed another fireball in the distance heading to Jesi’s other stronghold, Sodom. After a few moments another flash of sunlight heralded that city’s destruction. As I walked into the night, I saw thousands of smaller fireballs descend toward the gateway to heaven, Babylon. I understood what each of those fireballs must be. They were ships, full of soldiers, descending from space to bring Jesi to justice.

    ***

    About a week later, the angel came to me for the last time. She was smug. Her people had won. The Lord Protector decided Jesi should die by the hands of the very people he sought to enslave, and I was to be part of the execution.

    As I held the execution spear in my hand, I felt satisfaction at being the instrument of justice. I gazed into Jesi’s haunted eyes and realization dawned in his eyes just before I plunged the spear into his chest.

    I never believed he was a god.

    He didn’t kill the entire family at that village, so long ago.

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 11 of 13: City of God

    [1]It has been over a month since the angel of death fell from the sky and wiped out the two armies. Before departing, the Lieutenant ordered us to follow a path he marked on the waterproof map and spread the word about Jesi, the god who blesses his most faithful with miracles.

    We travel by day and spend our nights preaching to the townsfolk. At first, the people were doubtful, but my fellow villagers had already done their part in other cities. In one town, a woman mentioned a trader who had spoken of Jesi’s miracles. When we heard others repeating similar stories, it became easier to convince the people of Jesi’s power.

    One night, the stars above shone brighter than I’ve ever seen. Some of them grew so bright, the birds started singing their morning songs. We used this strange event as proof of Jesi’s holy war against the nonbelievers. Many towns along our route witnessed it too, and were even more receptive to our message after that.

    But not everyone believed. In one city, a priest interrupted our preaching, claiming that the celestial lights were a sign of Baal’s power. He called us heretics, and soon a mob formed. They drove us out of the city, and we lost most of our supplies.

    Four men from our village were killed in the chaos.

    We moved on to our next destination and were greeted midway by the Lieutenant. He was annoyed that we weren’t following the planned schedule and furious about the lost supplies. But when we explained what happened, his anger shifted to the city.

    He promised that those who attacked Jesi’s servants would be punished. He gave us coins for new supplies and instructed us to rest an extra night in the next town to recover our strength. As we set out, we saw a fiery angel streak through the sky, headed toward the city that had cast us out.

    A week later, a trader told us of a city where every inhabitant had choked and vomited themselves to death. On its walls, the name Jesi had been written.

    Today, we reached the last town on the map Jesi gave us. An arrow on the map pointed us toward an unknown destination. We were afraid of venturing into the unknown, but we had no choice. Jesi’s will must be followed.

    After crossing a large hill, we found Jesi sitting in the shade of a pavilion. He was surrounded by men and women dressed like him, and among them was the Lieutenant. An army of servants attended to them.

    Jesi smiled as we approached. He invited us to sit at a table and praised us for our work. As a reward, he was going to take us to his stronghold to witness the wonders of his city, and then we are to spread word to other cities that Jesi seeks followers to join him.

    After an hour of rest, a fiery eagle swooped down and landed near the pavilion. The side of the thunder-bird opened up, revealing stairs. We were ushered inside and bound to chairs as though we were cargo. Jesi and his Lieutenants retreated into a sealed compartment at the front of the bird, with a strange glowing sign above the door that read FIRST CLASS.

    Suddenly, the bird lurched into the air, and I felt my stomach drop. We screamed, watching the ground fall away beneath us. I saw some of the Lieutenants laughing at us, but I was too overwhelmed to care. My mind raced with fear, wishing the bird wouldn’t become sick and vomit us out to our deaths.

    Just when our nerves began to calm, the bird saw its nesting place. It was a circular city with great towers in the center. When the bird finally descended, I hoped our terror had ended. But as it dropped toward the ground, it seemed like we would fall to our deaths. At the last moment, the bird slowed down with such force that it felt like an entire village stood on my chest.

    Once the bird settled on the ground, the Lieutenants laughed at us as they untied us from the chairs. It was done with such contemptuous ease that we could have untied ourselves if we only knew to lift a simple lever.

    We stumbled out of the bird, some of us kissing the ground in relief. I overheard a man, a strange one wearing a hard hat, arguing with one of the Lieutenants about “safety regulations” and “being reported.” His complaints died as soon as Jesi appeared to dismiss the matter, The man, towering and stern moments ago, shrank under Jesi’s gaze, he bowed deeply and mumbled apologies before returning to his other duties.

    Distracted by the scene, I barely registered my surroundings until I looked up. I was in awe. We stood in a vast city of buildings that towered into the sky. The structure at the center was much taller than the rest, and it seemed to reach heaven itself. Wingless birds flew between the buildings, moving in perfect formations. My mind struggled to make sense of it all.

    Jesi told us to stay close to the Lieutenant, warning that everything in his city was dangerous to outsiders and might accidentally kill us. Then he stepped onto a moving path that carried him away faster than we could walk. By the time the Lieutenant gathered us, Jesi was gone.

    The Lieutenant led us to something he called an “elevator” that will take us to “Counterweight Station.” We followed him onto a path that moved by itself, and I could only stare in confusion. It was like the ground itself had come alive, rolling us forward. As we neared the central tower, I noticed the path was made of wheels, like those on a watermill, but nothing else about it made sense to me.

    Before I could understand more, a hand roughly pulled me through a door just in time, as something like a giant snake rushed past, its body gleaming and stretching as far as I could see. It moved faster than any creature should, and my heart pounded with fear. I was dazed and breathless as the Lieutenant scolded me, muttering about “children having more sense.”

    Inside the tower, we entered a transparent room with rows of chairs. People tied themselves to the chairs, and the Lieutenant helped us do the same before sitting next to a woman with children. He quietly spoke with her before the room sealed itself.

    Then, the room began to rise, climbing the side of the tower. My body felt heavier, pressed down as if the very air was trying to crush me. Outside the room, the ground fell away and we ascended so high that we passed into night. I heard a man groan in fear as our room was consumed by the darkness, but his neighbor shushed him.

    We climbed higher and higher, and the children let out cheerful giggles as they pointed at a massive object called a “battleship.” It resembled a giant box with long spears sticking out of it. As we continued to climb, my body began to feel light, as though I were floating.

    I noticed that we were climbing toward a rock and the floating sensation shifted as it grew closer, it quickly became apparent that I was being pulled toward the ceiling. The sensation was so disorienting that I could barely keep from screaming, though my mouth was too dry to make a sound. 

    Eventually, we stopped inside a city made of glass. The Lieutenant said goodbye to the woman and that he was sorry the war made it necessary for her to leave. He untied us and led us to a large building on the edge of the city. He ordered us to remain there until we received further instructions. We were served a feast, but I was too tired and confused to eat much. Servants guided us to rooms and we fell asleep shortly after.

    Chimes woke us in the morning and we gathered in the main lounge. Jesi was there waiting as we entered with a giant blue orb in the night’s sky behind him. He told us that our next task was to continue spreading the word of his greatness, but this time, we were to bring people to his cities. They will worship the greatness of Jesi and serve the needs of his people. In return, Jesi promised that all who joined him would have their needs provided for the rest of their lives.

    I was assigned to the city of Gomorrah.

    We were still eating breakfast when I was suddenly blinded by a light and found myself back on the ground, inside another city. The Lieutenant was there waiting for me, smirking at my confusion.

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 10 of 13: The Lieutenant’s Prayer

    [1]Jesi left us after pointing in the direction we should sail. One moment he was on my ship, and the next, he vanished without a word. Since he gave no further instructions, we continued sailing as commanded.

    He didn’t return until suppertime, when he used his metallic food box to provide for the ships. As we ate, Jesi announced that we were equidistant from several towns and that the fleet would split into different directions. Each ship is tasked with spreading word of his greatness to the towns.

    Jesi handed the leader of each ship a scroll containing a map and instructions for where to travel next. The scroll was made from a material I had never seen before. It looked like papyrus, but it was much smoother, and Jesi claimed it was waterproof.

    He explained that he would no longer travel with most of us but would check in from time to time. When needed, he would send someone he called a Lieutenant to deliver new instructions.

    Before we parted ways, Jesi gave each ship enough supplies to last a week and a few coins to purchase more if necessary, reminding the leaders that it was their responsibility not to squander what their god had provided.

    Our ship continued on its original course, leaving little for us to do. As the last light faded, I made a few notes in my diary and watched Jesi survey the ship before vanishing, as he had done many times before.

    I couldn’t help but wonder where he went. Our ship was hardly comfortable, so did he retreat to a palace in the sky?

    ***

    When I woke the next morning, Jesi was watching me with the same curiosity he’d shown the morning of the siege. As soon as I stirred, he asked, “The ability to write is rare. Many so-called leaders of towns and villages don’t even know how. So, tell me, how is it that a boy from a village in the middle of nowhere can write?”

    Sitting up, I lowered my gaze and chose my words carefully. “Before you arrived, my family traded goods. It was important that I be able to read the posted commodities the city bought and sold, along with their recommended prices. Sometimes we traded under contract, and my father regularly quizzed me on understanding the terms.”

    “We often stopped at the village you chose to bless with your presence. My parents planned to spend their final years there, to enjoy a peaceful life.” I paused, before continuing, “But their plans were cut short by your arrival, and now their new purpose is to serve you.”

    Jesi seemed satisfied with my response. “I still sense great sadness about your family. This journey will be long, but they will still be there when you return. Despite the bitter taste of your feelings, I’m glad to have such a skilled laborer in my service.”

    As the first light broke on the horizon, revealing our next destination, Jesi instructed us to eat a large breakfast. He declared that he would leave us soon to wage holy war against those who opposed his will. But he assured us that one of his Lieutenants would soon arrive to guide us to our next objective. Jesi warned of dangers ahead, but if we kept faith in him and followed his Lieutenant’s orders, we would overcome all obstacles.

    When we docked, a man stood waiting with a small legion of uniformed servants. He bowed deeply to Jesi, whispering what seemed to be a short prayer. Jesi tapped the man’s shoulder, waved toward us, and then vanished… once again.

    Despite his reverence marking him as subservient to Jesi, the man bore a striking resemblance to him. He surveyed us with a look of mild disgust before finally introducing himself as “Lieutenant.” He told us we did not need to know his name, for we were not worthy of it.

    The Lieutenant explained that our task was to spread the glory of Jesi. He cared nothing for our personal well-being, and his only goal is to ensure we can perform our divine duty. He acknowledged the presence of large armies in the area and that some of us might die. We should not fear this fate, for we die in Jesi’s name.

    We marched toward a city marked on the map. We could just barely make out the city in the distance when we were forced to make camp for the night.

    The next morning, I noticed many more birds in the sky than the evening before. Some made strange noises and flew without flapping their wings. The Lieutenant and his servants looked at a shimmering tablet and grew visibly worried. He ordered us to climb a nearby hill, and once we did, we understood the cause for concern.

    Two massive armies, several hundred thousand strong, were assembled in the direction we were headed. I recognized Roman banners, but the identity of the second army remained unclear.

    Despite the Lieutenant’s advanced weaponry, it was clear the armies could easily overwhelm us. The Lieutenant pulled a black stone from his pocket, clasped it in both hands, and prayed, begging Jesi to send help.

    The stone responded in a strange language, and the Lieutenant covered his face with a strange pig-like mask. His servants quickly followed suit.

    We knew the Lieutenant’s prayer had been answered when a fiery angel descended from the heavens and exploded above the armies. The angel belched a cloud of death that engulfed the battlefield, spreading in all directions.

    We could hear the confused armies within the cloud at first, but then an eerie silence clung to the area. When the cloud finally dissipated, we saw the angel’s handiwork. Where once stood two mighty armies, now lay a valley of corpses. Jesi had once again proven his might, calling down destruction from the sky.

    The Lieutenant removed his mask and ordered us to continue our journey upwind of the killing field, warning us not to touch anything due to something called “contamination.”

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 9 of 13: The Siege and Resurrection

    [1]I woke the next morning to the sound of men playing in a field. When I opened my eyes, Jesi was sitting nearby, staring at me with curiosity. Seeing that I was awake, he summoned his shimmering tablet and began touching it with rapid waves of his hand.

    From where I sat, it looked like Jesi was drawing red lines on a map. He put his tablet away and walked to me with an outstretched hand. I took it, and he helped me to my feet. He said today would be important. A young woman would visit us for breakfast, and by midday, the walls of the city would crumble.

    Jesi pulled out his metal food box and served us eggs and oats. He even set a plate aside for his guest. Just after breakfast, a beautiful young woman approached our camp. Upon seeing Jesi, she ran to him and threw herself at his feet, thanking him for what seemed like a thousand times. She said she hadn’t felt this energetic, so full of life, since her younger years.

    I almost tripped over my own feet hearing that—she was clearly young, so why was she speaking as if she had aged? I hadn’t seen her the day before, but there was something familiar about her. Perhaps she was the old woman’s granddaughter.

    Jesi pulled out a disc of polished metal and placed it before her. The woman gazed at her reflection in disbelief, touching her face to verify what she saw. She screamed, but not in horror. It was a scream of pure joy. She ran around the camp yelling, “I’m young again! I’m young again!”

    Jesi smiled, but there was no warmth in it, and asked her to calm herself. Obediently, she bowed low before him. He looked at us and reminded us of the old woman he helped yesterday. “Easing her pain would have been a waste,” he explained. “She might’ve died soon after. I needed a lasting symbol of my power. And what better than making an old woman young again? Now she has a whole life ahead of her… again.”

    Turning to her, Jesi said, “I have given you a new life. Now, you must live it in my service. First, witness as I destroy this city and scatter its people to the four corners of the world. After that, you will travel far and wide to spread news of my greatness.”

    He admired her youthful form and added, “You will soon notice that men desire you again. Enjoy your body as much as you like.”

    Then, his expression darkened. “Now go. Sit upon the hill overlooking the city.”

    She ran to do her god’s bidding.

    ***

    We packed up camp and hiked back to the city. Everything seemed normal. There was no sense of urgency among the townsfolk. Jesi laughed at this. His laughter was so loud it echoed off the city walls, making the very ground tremble.

    It wasn’t just a laugh. It was a laugh that delighted in what was about to happen, a cruel sound that felt like a mockery of the lives within those walls.

    The city grew silent.

    In a voice like thunder, Jesi commanded the city to cast its leaders over the walls if they wished to be spared. If not, their fate would be sealed. He gave them an hour.

    Not long after, we saw a small body tossed over the walls. Jesi summoned his tablet and stared at it for a few moments before asking for two volunteers to follow him.

    Jesi and the men approached the wall, walking unharmed through a barrage of arrows, protected by his shimmering curtain of light. They returned with the broken body of the missing dwarf we had sent to rally the people to worship Jesi.

    Jesi looked at the body with sadness, but it was the sort of sadness one shows over a broken tool rather than a fallen comrade. He instructed us to protect the body while he dealt with the city. Turning back to the walls, he roared with fury, proclaiming that the city would be no more.

    He summoned his shimmering tablet again and touched a red circle. The tablet disappeared, and a deafening light from the heavens lanced across the city walls. The sound was like a thousand thunderclaps crashing together. The ground shook, and the stone walls crumbled as if they were nothing but dust in the wind. The air filled with the cries of the dying and the rumbling of falling stone, but Jesi stood there, smiling, basking in the destruction.

    Flames erupted from within the city, casting an orange glow that grew brighter as the smoke rose to blot out the sun. I could hear the distant screams of those trapped in the collapsing streets. They screamed for help, for mercy, but Jesi’s eyes were cold as he watched the chaos unfold, enjoying the spectacle he had orchestrated. The smell of burning flesh reached us, thick and choking.

    We carried the body of our fallen comrade back to our ships and stowed him aboard. Jesi followed us with his magic chest. He used a vial of grey goo on the dwarf’s wounds, then brought out a straight wand that seemed to heal them.

    As night fell and the city’s glow illuminated the sky, Jesi’s magic chest began chirping like a cricket. He pulled out two strange objects that resembled jellyfish and placed them on the dwarf’s chest. The body twitched and writhed under their influence until Jesi removed them.

    With a smile, he turned to us and said, “Now, we wait.”

    ***

    The next morning, I woke to the sound of laughter. Jesi was examining the dwarf, using strange tools that seemed to tickle out uncontrollable mirth. After the exam, we shared a joyful breakfast, but our meal was soon interrupted by the approaching rumble of a thousand footsteps.

    Survivors from the destroyed city trickled toward the harbor. When they saw Jesi standing at the dock, they fell to their knees, weeping and begging for his forgiveness. They wailed in sorrow, but Jesi just gazed at them, unmoved, as if their suffering was of no consequence.

    The collected voices washed over us and then fell silent at his raised hands.

    In his thunderous voice, Jesi proudly declared that their city was destroyed and that none would live on its ruins for a thousand years. He commanded them to resettle in the surrounding cities and to worship him as the one true god. Wherever they went, they were to build shrines in his honor.

    The survivors praised him for his mercy and swore to follow his commands.

    Jesi returned to my ship and pointed in the direction we should sail.

    As for the young woman, I never saw her again. But I hope she lived a full life… again.

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 8 of 13: Assassination Plot

    [1]We sailed into a Roman-controlled harbor, and the moment we docked, a soldier approached Jesi. He saluted him with the raised-arm gesture typical of the Romans and addressed him as “My lord,” though there was no reverence in his voice. It struck me that the Romans seemed to worship something greater than their gods. They worshipped the immortal city of Rome itself, and their empire. And yet, Jesi seemed perfectly content with this arrangement. Perhaps with the most powerful political entity in the world, it was obedience that mattered more than worship. Or maybe, they were simply too vast to control.

    Or was it that Jesi was just starting out, using us to spread his influence? We were planting the seeds of his miracles in the minds of all who listened, and he would later reap the worship of his adoring followers. Each city we visited was a stepping stone in his plan, each miracle performed a carefully laid piece of his design. One day, when the seeds had taken root, they would blossom into unquestioning devotion. We were only the beginning.

    Jesi commanded some men to bring a palanquin for the journey into the city. As we waited, he informed us he intended to preach and heal the sick. The city was several miles inland, and he desired to meditate during the trek. We drew lots to see who would carry him. Four men were chosen, all eager to serve, but Jesi quickly dismissed one. The man was too short, Jesi explained, and would make the ride uneven. He sent the man ahead to announce the arrival of a living god.

    Then, with his eyes closed, Jesi raised a hand and randomly pointed in my direction. When he opened his eyes, his finger was aimed squarely at me. But just as my hands instinctively moved toward my ears, his lips curled into a smirk, and his finger circled to the man beside me. “You will do,” Jesi said. His voice boomed in my mind without a single word spoken aloud: I cannot afford to have my chronicler exhausting himself when there are miracles to record.

    With Jesi aboard the palanquin, we made our way toward the city. About halfway there, I could hear soft snores coming from within. They continued until the walls of the city loomed ahead. As we passed through the gate, Jesi ordered us to the central square.

    A fruit vendor caught his eye, and Jesi handed him a coin in exchange for several apples and a cup of juice. He ate as we moved through the crowded streets, tossing cores to the ground where the beggars and street urchins snatched them up. The cup was discarded too, and it intrigued me. It was thin, lumpy, and oddly shaped, unlike any drinking vessel I had seen before.

    When we arrived in the square, Jesi stepped from his palanquin to greet the crowd that had gathered, undoubtedly alerted by the short man he had sent ahead. I briefly wondered where the dwarf was while Jesi stepped toward a platform to speak to the gathered crowd.

    There, upon the platform, he declared himself the god Jesi and instructed the people to build a temple in his honor. They were to renounce their gods and worship him alone. The whispers from the crowd were hushed, but noticeable. Jesi’s voice grew louder as he invited the crowd to witness his miracles and asked who among them would be first to receive his blessing.

    An old woman approached, trembling on her knees as she begged for relief from her aching bones. The village man accompanying us brought Jesi’s chest of tools, and I watched as Jesi repeated his miracle from the previous day, using the same grey powder. He inserted it into a strange needle and, with a broad smile, warned the woman of a slight pain. She flinched as the needle pierced her, but he promised she would feel renewed by morning. She bowed and scurried off into the crowd.

    It was then that I noticed something odd. A group of hooded figures, too neatly arranged compared to the masses. Jesi, too, must have sensed something was amiss. Before I could react, Jesi’s body glowed faintly, and he turned toward the group with fury on his face. He drew his wand-like device, and in an instant, bolts of lightning erupted from its tip. The hooded figures threw off their cloaks to reveal weapons as they charged, but it was too late. The lightning struck them down where they stood, their bodies crumpling to the ground one by one.

    A spear flew through the air, aimed perfectly at Jesi. But it merely glanced off the shimmering aura that surrounded him, falling harmlessly to the ground. In mere moments, the square was littered with bodies. Jesi climbed back into his palanquin and ordered us to surround him as we fled the city. His command was clear: “Have faith, and no harm will come to you.”

    As we hurried through the streets, a lone guard stepped forward to block our way, but Jesi’s wand flashed again, and the man collapsed before even raising his weapon. We passed through the gate unscathed, arrows fired in our direction bouncing harmlessly off an invisible shield that Jesi had raised. It was not until we had run for nearly a mile that he ordered us to stop and rest.

    Jesi pulled out the metallic box he used to conjure food and drink. He distributed liquid among us, filling our cups with a sweet, salty, and faintly alcoholic beverage. He toasted to our coming victory, claiming that we few would lay siege to the city and that its walls would crumble before us. His confidence was unsettling. As I sipped the green liquid, I could feel its effects immediately, refreshing my body but doing little to calm my mind.

    Jesi spoke of setting up camp and preparing for the morrow. As I sat by the fire, recording the events in my diary, the weight of the day’s events settled heavily on me. Despite the display of power, the deaths of those men were a stark reminder: no matter how much I despise Jesi, I must never act against him directly. For he may not be a god, but he wields abilities far beyond anything I could ever hope to challenge.

    I peeked at Jesi’s transport and saw two eyes peering back from within.

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 6 of 13: Dancing Man Near Fire

    THAT’S IT! CONTINUE ON WITH PART 7 BELOW.

    Jesi Saga 7 of 13: Mind Walker, Soul Drinker

    [1]Jesi appeared to us the next morning. I prayed he hadn’t noticed me watching his tools in the village, but to my horror, he chose my boat for the next leg of our journey. Mid-morning, he came to me.

    I greeted him with a bow and a simple, “My lord.” It was said without true reverence.

    He explained that the emotional aura of a worshiper tastes like sweet wine and that being among adoring supplicants was intoxicating. But when he drew near me, he said, he tasted only grief. It was like rancid wine.

    “What’s wrong, my child?” Jesi asked. “Why are you so dark around me?”

    Staring down at the floor of the boat, I replied, “My lord Jesi, I am in awe of your miracles.”

    “Don’t lie to me!” His voice boomed, but his lips did not move. “Your mind is transparent. Do not force me to sully my spirit by reading that wastebin of a mind you carry between your filthy ears.”

    I covered my ears, but it didn’t stop the roaring in my head. His words crashed through my mind like a relentless tsunami. For a moment, doubt crept in. Could Jesi be our town god under another name? For that brief moment, I saw him as Poseidon, and I stood in awe of his power.

    But it was just a moment.

    Jesi’s face broke into a grin, and it seemed that brief second of doubt and awe was enough to appease him.

    I chose my next words carefully. “I miss my family greatly. I have never been… separated from them like this before.”

    “There’s truth in your words, but you’re holding something back,” Jesi said, smiling with a morbid delight at my trembling. “It seems that High Speech frightens you greatly. I won’t cause you more pain, but come seek my wisdom when you’re ready.”

    He started to turn back to his shaded bench when he spotted my leather diary. Plucking it from my satchel, he flipped it open to where my cloth bookmark saved my place. His smile warmed as he examined my sketch of the man he healed at the village.

    “Your sketch is remarkable,” he said, his tone lighter now. “Artistic expression is the greatest form of worship. Capturing my handiwork shows your appreciation of me.” He handed back my diary. “I hope your sorrow eases. Right now, it is like lemonade without sweetener. In the meantime, continue bearing witness to the miracles I bestow upon the worthy, and record my judgment against the unrighteous.”

    With that, Jesi turned and walked back to his bench.

    I exhaled in relief and returned to my shipboard duties.

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 5 of 13: Grey Goo Regrows Leg

    [1]Jesi took his time sipping tea, letting the crowd’s anticipation grow. His gaze wandered over the people and lingered on the boats. I quickly busied myself on the deck, avoiding his eyes, whispering a silent prayer to my god. After what felt like an eternity, Jesi finished his tea, turned back to the kneeling man, and proclaimed he had heard his prayer.

    With great ceremony, Jesi reached into the black chest once more, pulling out a small vial filled with a strange, grey substance that seemed to move on its own. He manipulated more of those incomprehensible tools within the chest and the grey powder inside the vial began to flow like liquid.

    He inserted the vial into a long, thin needle-like tool and raised it high for the crowd to see. With a swift motion, Jesi stabbed the needle into the man’s arm. The man cried out in pain as the grey substance drained from the vial into the man’s body. Jesi removed the needle but there was no blood, and no wound remained where it had pierced him.

    Jesi smiled at the man and instructed him to lie down next to him. “Meditate on my greatness,” he commanded. “If your prayer is strong, your leg will begin to grow within the hour.”

    The man, trembling, did as he was told. Jesi draped a fine silk cloth over the man’s legs and returned to bask in the admiration of the crowd. After an hour passed, the man started to stir, claiming his leg felt strange and itchy. Jesi lifted the blanket, and the crowd gasped in amazement. A small, baby-like leg had begun to sprout from the stump where the man’s leg used to be.

    The villagers erupted into praise, bowing, and praying to Jesi. Not wanting to stand out, I too knelt at the bow of the ship, though I could not bring myself to pray.

    Jesi smiled, basking in their worship. “Continue your meditations,” he told the man, “and by suppertime, your leg will be fully restored.” Then he commanded the villagers to prepare a feast in his honor.

    By the time we dined in the village square that evening, the man was walking, dancing, and showing off his newly grown leg. The villagers were completely enraptured by the god Jesi, convinced of his power.

    I watched it all with a heavy heart. I was glad the man could walk again, but I knew the truth. The miracles they celebrated were nothing more than clever tricks performed with strange tools they couldn’t comprehend.

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.

  • Jesi Saga 4 of 13: Glove that Cured the Blind

    [1]We followed Jesi down the river until it opened into the sea. By mid-afternoon, our ship reached a small coastal village where we found the lead boats docked. Jesi stood among the villagers, speaking to them at the pier. As I tied our boat to the dock, I overheard his familiar demand. They must bow and worship him, the god Jesi. Unlike our starving town, these people seemed well-fed, so Jesi offered them something different. He promised to heal their sick and crippled.

    A blind man, assisted by a young woman, stepped forward and cried out, “Please, Jesi! I will gladly bow and pray at your feet for a chance to see again!” The woman, his daughter, helped him to his knees, pleading, “Please, Lord Jesi! My father cannot provide for our family. I am forced to beg for alms to keep us fed. If he could see, he could work again. Please, heal him!”

    Jesi raised his hands dramatically and declared that he had heard the man’s prayer. He turned to a nearby table where a strange black chest rested in the sunlight. It was smooth, with sharp edges and a pair of intricate locks on its front. I watched as he snapped open the locks, and the chest opened in two halves, like a clamshell revealing its treasure within.

    From my spot at the dock, I saw him open the lid, revealing a dazzling light that reflected off its contents. The villagers gasped, awestruck by the brilliance, believing it was divine. But I could see what they could not. Inside the chest were tools.

    They were unlike any I had ever seen, but tools nonetheless.

    Jesi reached into the chest and pulled out a thick, rigid glove, which he slipped onto his hand. He waved it over the blind man’s face and, with his other hand, touched a strange glowing tablet that shimmered before him. He manipulated the symbols on the tablet, then spoke loudly, ensuring all could hear.

    “Lift your face toward me, and open your eyes as wide as you can.”

    The man did as he was told, and Jesi hovered his gloved fingers over the man’s eyes. I thought I heard a faint humming sound, but I wasn’t sure. Then Jesi proclaimed, “You came to me blind and wretched, but now you shall see. Let your eyes be opened!”

    The man gasped. “I can see! I can see!” He turned to his daughter. “Tilly, my sweet, when did you get that blemish on your face? Never mind! I don’t care. I can see you again!”

    The man fell at Jesi’s feet, kissing the ground in gratitude. “Thank you! Thank you, my Lord! I am yours forever.”

    Jesi smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Villagers rushed to bring their loved ones who were afflicted by disease and injury, eager to witness more miracles. As the second blind man was healed, I sat at the bow of the ship, watching the frenzy with a heavy heart. These people did not understand what I saw. Jesi’s “miracles” were no work of divine power but a trick performed with strange tools.

    Jesi healed another blind man before announcing that he would take a break for afternoon tea. He pointed to a man missing a leg and ordered him to kneel and pray silently for healing while he sipped his tea. With great difficulty, the man obeyed, his face contorted in pain as he knelt before Jesi.

    [1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)

    This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.

    This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.

    As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.