A flash of lightning lit up the room in which Jupiter was standing. It was a lab he had long since abandoned, yet only recently rediscovered. Here, the cylindrical cryostasis pods stood in the center, where, as Enki, he had created and maintained his greatest creations: Adapa and Ena. Scattered throughout the room were all the tools and devices he had tirelessly worked on during the final days preceding the natural catastrophe. Part of the wall had been torn off, and he could now look out into the sky as storm clouds gathered in the distance.
As he began to tentatively step over every piece of debris, he felt a chill, despite his series of robes. He reached up and carefully removed his crown helmet, which he often wore with him in order to put some awe into his human subjects. Although they were no longer slaves, somebody had to keep them from slaughtering one another, and that was all Jupiter had done these past hundred years or so. What was so terrible was the fact that he had lost count of all those years that had gone by. The thought that he would one day no longer be here to watch over his creations terrified him the most, especially after hearing Kane's words.
"But if you don't, you will see your creations run rampant. They will seek the devices and begin subjugating each other."
Unfortunately, Kane was right. The premise that humanity would one day abuse its freedom was just as likely as how Jupiter's people - no, Enki's people - had abused their liberty by snatching it away from others. Even the host Jupiter now controlled was robbed of this basic right, and he did not wish to keep the man from it any longer than necessary. Thankfully, it had seemed his host had grown accustomed to Enki, the symbiote now wrapped around his brain stem. They communicated often, and they had both agreed to protect humanity... even if it was from themselves.
But now, as Jupiter scoured the room for the Tablets of Destiny, he realized that even his host couldn't live forever. One day, they would be gone, and humanity would be on its own. As he thought of this with his head bowed over a counter, a soft light began to glow from behind him.
"How deep is the river if you cannot see the bottom?" A feminine voice called out from behind him. Rather quickly, Jupiter turned and beheld a being that was far from physical. A bright glow encompassed its body, which had ribbons of light flowing around it, as if blown lightly by some supernal wind. Her face, however, was far more human. For a moment, Jupiter thought her face looked familiar.
"Minerva?" He carefully asked. "Are you-"
"I abandoned that name long ago, as you have yours," was Minerva's response. "You may now call me... Oma Desala."
"Oma Desala?" Jupiter's voice echoed as he turned to face her completely. "What has happened? Are you among the Ancients?"
"They are with me," Oma Desala replied with a frown. "But I am not with them."
"I see," Jupiter said thoughtfully. He recalled the days he began trapping numerous Ancients in order to use them as hosts. Their ascended bodies, even when given physical shape, were as capable of extended years as the ascended themselves. "They blame you for my mistake. That burden should fall upon my shoulders, not yours."
"You sought to give our people life," Desala whispered. "Judge yourself by the intentions of your actions."
"No." Jupiter looked away, though his gaze never lowered. "I sought after vengeance. That was but one more role in my greater plan. I was a fool to seek it."
Oma didn't respond at first. But as Jupiter continued to feel sorry for himself, she gingerly approached. Her form never once touched the ground, but rather hovered above it. As she reached out with a hand bathed in light, Jupiter wistfully regarded her. "In adversity, the true strength of your spirit is revealed. Only then can you know if you are good or evil. That is the choice only you can make. Do not abandon the opportunity."
Jupiter considered her for a moment longer before reaching out to take her by the hand. Then, the moment their fingertips touched, her light grew brighter until he was unable to see. The moment he became aware that his hand was not touching anything, the light faded, and there was no trace left of Jupiter's last confidant.
Nothing Jupiter did had any effect on the tripods. He had flooded so much of the Earth, he felt certain that many cultures in the future would regard his efforts as a global deluge. Nearly a week had passed, and he was still no closer to stopping the invaders - but they were getting closer to ending what little still remained of humanity. Now it was his plan to eradicate Kane and the creatures he brought with him that wore most heavily on his heart:
He would have to infect humanity, and he didn't know how many would die in the process. How ironic that the only way to save them was to betray them.
But the real question was not whether or not it would work. The real question was whether or not it was right. Would the ends justify the means? With no time to seek alternatives, this was Jupiter's only decision... but it was one he didn't want to make.
-= Years later, written on the last page of the old journal =-
This will be my final entry. My time is finally over. The rest of my people gone, I alone shoulder the responsibility of ridding the last evidence of our existence on this planet. We can't let our predecessors, the other Goa'uld, know we were ever here. And, despite our work together, humanity's in no position to use our technology responsibly.
It pains me to say that after Kane's attack, the children of our foolish ambitions have reverted into the savages we made them. The diseases I unleashed to infect the creatures harvesting them killed more than 90% of the human population as well. Now they live in small tribes, sick and frightened, the world undergoing terrible earthquakes and volcanic eruptions as a result of my attempts to shift whatever technology I could - including the alien Tripods themselves - into another dimension. I've corrected some areas by planting Seismic Pieces of Eden, but some of our Edenel were buried by the catastrophes before I could reach them.
My efforts to drive back the invaders caused more damage than I can ever undo, not only to humanity but to the planet too. Flooding did little to stop the invaders, only displacing the native wildlife and destroying their ecosystems. Whatever the diseases missed, the floods swept away. All our progress, every last city and temple we had, buried beneath the waves. Earth is nothing like it used to be. I made sure of that.
Oma asked I join her and the others in ascension. Jupiter, my host, hesitated more than once before deciding to take her offer. I didn't want to leave my work unfinished, and he feared his presence would drive the Ancients to chaos. He'd never truly accepted his people's decision not to interfere, be it by leaving their home galaxy to a race of despotic ascendants or abandoning this one to escape a horde of sentient machines.
But, more than that, we worried what Anu might do. His consciousness lies within my host's mind, put there when he passed command of our people over to Enlil. Should we ascend, he too would be released, free to wreak havoc on the Ancients.
Perhaps I'm just paranoid. Oma says there's nothing Anu could do that the others couldn't counter. To be sure, I asked how the Ancients banished one of their own. Exile to a mortal form, sans memories, seemed to be the favored punishment. Yet that only applied to smaller violations of conduct. If Anu tried to corrupt the other Ancients or behaved precisely like the Ancients' ambitious other half, he'd likely be killed in a black hole.
Jupiter once studied these phenomena, long before he ascended - and long before Enlil took him as a host. He theorized black holes may warp matter, but they don't dismantle it. On the opposite end, such matter would re-emerge from a white hole into another universe. Most couldn't withstand the deleterious gravitational effects, but ascendants could. Theoretically.
Again, Oma tried to alleviate our fears. She said none of it would matter. "One day, all that exists will be joined. Nothing Anu can do will stop that." Cryptic promises don't ease the mind. Wherever Anu goes, his curse would follow. Furthermore, ascendants moving from one universe to the next inevitably creates mirror images at their destination, powers and all. Could we really handle Anu and his shadow... his Padomay?
No. It's time to rest. Even I can see that. Jupiter and I must join our kinds in ascension. Whether or not I want to stay here and see humanity rebuild and renew, my host knows the dangers lurking beyond the galactic barrier. We need to be ready. But there's a personal reason I want to go. A question's been lingering in my mind since I wrote my final moments. It's a question I feel can only be answered once I'm looking down on this life.
Am I good or evil?