Prologue: The Magnum Opus

In the splendid chaos and devastation of the universe God created is His Magnum
Opus. It turns on its axis wobbling like a spinning top at the end of its cycle as gravity
takes hold slowing it down to an eventual halt. It is not the construction of this tiny
sphere that is of significance as its inhabitants were specifically designed in the likeness
of the ultimate designer. They once frolicked and danced about in a joyfulness that was
pleasing to Him until the day came that they discovered sin and the meaning of scrutiny.
So says the great book that was passed down through the ages by the inhabitants in hopes
that future generations will learn from the mistakes of their ancestors and to re-establish
the long lost connection with their maker, the ultimate craftsman. As an envious and
cunning genus, the guardians put aside their resentment and waited for the mortals to
humble themselves but the hour never struck. The immortals themselves have passed as
sculpted putrefying works of art by the ancient Greeks and Romans and in the mythology
and fairy tales of these early civilizations that once ruled a world without knowledge of
its true origin or of the fact that the gods they worshiped were not gods at all but the
servants of the marvelous watchmaker. Servants indeed with bitterness and animosity
they exploited the adolescent species to their bidding by devising warfare and hostilities
among nations in hopes this primitive group would die out but to the guardian’s dismay
they continued to thrive.
As civilizations flourished their advancement became inevitable until they no
longer needed their gods to surrender to, they were able to fend for themselves against
their mortal enemies. The temples that once stood tall and proud now crumbled and
cracked under the weight of the earth’s chemistry via rain, earthquakes, and volcanic
eruptions that was continuously altering the terrain. They abandoned the temples and
their shrewd gods and moved further and further into their own oblivion and utter demise.
The immortals refused to rescue them when they cried out in anguish as they beat their
tired and bloodied bodies. The psychosis of the humans could not be distinguished by the
immortals nor had they the abilities to understand their mortal emotions, motives, and
desire for a trivial power that only existed in their tiny fragment of the cosmos on an
insignificant planet that circled an ordinary star.