“I’ve seen the news, John. You’ve become a bloody dictator and you expect me to join you? As what? An assistant, a butler?”

John laughed, “I never intended that for you. I have a better, much more challenging post available.”

“And what would that be?”

“You will be resuming your duty as a General, and you will also be part of the Supreme War Council. Even if you were plotting against me, you’d at least be helping all of humanity along the way.”

Jarad remained silent for a while. He breathed in deeply, sighed and gave a small nod. His face showed that he was mulling over what John had just said. “Give me time to think it through and I’ll let you know.”

“Great,” John said. “I will see you next week in the War Room.”

“Do we even have one?” Richard asked.

“We will.”

In Alex’s holding cell, they stripped him bare so that they could have a full view of what was going on with his body. It had turned pale-green.

“What’s the situation?” asked Erik.

Joqetu replied, “You can see for yourself...sir. If he doesn’t come around soon, the body will decompose and there will be little hope for him.”

“Well, no matter,” said Erik. “The book should be arriving shortly.”

“You have it then? We will be using the technique?” asked Liam.

“Yes,” Daniel said, “All of us.” The Rebels looked at Erik and Daniel suspiciously. Nikolas knew why he had said that. When they would be connecting their energies together, they would also be connecting their minds, which meant that the truth could be exposed. This was unless they protected their thoughts. By looking at each other they understood what had to be done in order to maintain their true allegiance. This would require more power than ever, but they were up for it. They had to be.

“Until then, we will have to make sure it doesn’t happen,” said Liam.

“How?” asked Erik.

“There is a way,” said Dante, “We must give him some energy, in order to slow down the decaying process.”

“Won’t that just quicken it?” Joqetu asked.

“Depends on the type of energy you give him,” said Nikolas.

“Yes,” said Yagnik, “If we give him the kind that regenerates, we can at least restore his body.”

“Exactly,” said Nikolas, turning to face the other Rebels, “Prepare yourselves.” In quick succession, light emanated from their bodies turning them transparent. The light shone so bright that it bathed the entire room and hallway. The Rebels encircled Alex’s body and raised their arms. Energy entered through their hands, and everything became silent as though they were all struck deaf. Erik said something, but no sound came out of his mouth.

They lowered their arms, cupped their hands and then with palms touching Alex’s chest, forehead, navel, and legs, they released the energy into him. The lights traveled to different parts of his body. They soaked his spine and bloodstream, glowing through his skin and then slowly fading away. As they did, a great change could be seen over his body. Color entered his cheeks and lips and the green hue left his body.

“Well, that was great!” said Daniel, “Truly marvelous. You Rebels must teach us how to do these things.”

“And in time, we will,” said Nikolas. “All these things were hidden from Aidan by his father, but soon enough the truth will be out.”

Mikhail and Sirach entered the room. Sirach held a weighty book in his hand.

“Any trouble?” asked Erik.

“No, not at all, sir,” Sirach said, and added, “although,” he passed the tome to Erik, “They did ask me why you wanted this particular volume.”

“But there was no mention of the Council?”

“Not at all,” Mikhail said.

“Good.” Erik took the book in his hands. It was bound in very old leather and in ancient letters the title read Incantations of the Dead. It was closed with two buckles on the top and bottom right corners. Erik opened it and the dust rose up from it, causing him to cough and brush it off. “Let us begin,” he said, gravely. They encircled the body once again and joined hands. Erik remained outside the circle, to give them instructions. All, including Daniel, Mikhail and Sirach joined in the process. All Nikolas could do now was hope for the best.

The Throne Room was simple yet elegant. The light disorientated Alex. Alex could not make out what he looked like but he saw his figure. He wore white robes and in one hand had a book, and in the palm of his other hand seven lights flickered. The light of his face dimmed so Alex could make out his features. He was not old, but immortal and wise. His long thick beard glowed white, as did the hair on his head that flowed down his back. “My son,” He said.

Alex prostrated himself in front of him. “Father,” he said.

To Alex, God was exactly as he had seen him represented in Michelangelo’s paintings. God laughed. “Oh, you really think I look like this?”

“I don’t know. What do you look like, really?”

“Whatever you want me to look like,” God answered, smiling benignly.

Alex was confused.

“Because of your Catholic upbringing, you picture me and heaven this way. But you have studied other religions.”

“So, you’re saying you’re not like this at all?”

“No, nor is Heaven. It is all according to you. You know Jesus.”

“Your son.”

“All are my children, and more so, they are me. Think of me as Jesus.”

Suddenly the figure of God changed and resembled Jesus.

God continued, “Now imagine me as the Buddha.”

Again Alex thought and once more the figure changed. He sat down, levitating in a lotus position, with a smiling clean-shaven face and his hair tied in a bun. He wore a loincloth and a saffron color shawl.

“You see? People see me as they want. It does not matter as long they realize that I am not different. I exist, and you exist only because I exist.

“Existence is the same as non-existence. Perception is based on consciousness, which is my consciousness. You are me and I am in all. Life and death are illusory. Existence, as you see it, is formed from the pictures in your mind. Your consciousness is borrowed from the source.”

“That is you?”

“That is you! Realize that I am all these things,” the figure changed from Buddha, to Jesus, to Krishna, to Michelangelo’s representation, to Rama, to the Virgin Mary, to some of the Catholic saints, and then to the Hindu goddesses, “and ultimately I am you!” Alex suddenly saw himself standing opposite. “You and I, these are only words, Alex. There is no Alex, or Aidan, or Anaxagoras, or the Red Serpent. Realize that you do not have a destiny that has been decided. You are Me and I am You! You have all power over whatever worlds your consciousness stirs up. All have that power. Your father, your grandfather, you mother, your uncles, your ancestors, your descendants are all You!”

“Then why must I be the Falsifier?”

“Who said you have to be anything?”

“I am fighting against a terrible evil, am I not?”

“No! Realize there is no good, or evil, no joy, no pain, no beginning, no end, no life, no death.”

“Then why create this world?” Alex asked.

“I did not create this universe. I am not here; I do not exist, and I am existing. I am non-existence and existence as you are. You created this universe; you created this world, with your consciousness, which in itself is an illusion.”

Alex shook his head, “I have heard all this before, yet when you speak to me, I do not understand it.”

“People are not good or evil; people are people because they believe it. When they realize that they are all and none and they are what they choose and ultimately they are light, they are one, then none of this will be there. You saw that river and the people there because you thought this was how it would be. Others saw it differently. God is not individualistic, but he is what he is according to individuals.”