I.

Prologue to an Epilogue

"Only hold fast what you have until I come." —Revelation 2:25

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. These words will be written in text to be preserved throughout creation, and with it, its faith. This text will be written by a mortal in the future, a few millennia from now. Wars, death and turmoil will be gotten from this text. It is only fitting then that this was one of many mortal-written passages God would ponder to himself more than once.

God had the time to ponder. Heaven had not existed yet. This was the prelude of creation and God only had nothing but the freedom presented to him and him alone. God, omniscience on hand, know what would happen to after creation. Should he pursue fate and allow creation? Then time within creation would move forward. Events of the future would come into being, and his eventual death would also come to fruition.

This is where the crux lay before him: Oddly, it is not his death he had issue with. Rather, the death of others. Why should God grant the world creation when he knew the suffering he would inevitably inflict to everything? There is beauty in creation, yes. But tragedy and suffering would outweigh the chance at life!

More importantly, after creation, God knew he would eventually come to conquer. If God was the emanation to the Will of Freedom, then this conqueror would be the emanation of the Will of Death and Rebirth.

God knew his role in this conflict and he knew the immense casualty if he let this conqueror lay a hand at the everything after creation. Thus, God decided to face this conqueror first before letting fate run its course. It is a simple solution: defeat him first before God would allow creation, so the future would then be clear off real trouble! It's very much nipping things in the bud.

Hence his 'free-time' to pursue idle thinking.

They would refer to my 'son' as the word… He would tell himself after repeating his most pondered phrase over and over at times during his free time. Despite the truth to the text, God knew words often bear hollow. With only the reader cockily filling meaning to said hollow letters. God was no different: …and the Word was God, huh. He would scoff at himself at this phrase in particular.

It couldn't be farther from the truth!

What was present in the beginning was not the word, but the Will. It was the root of God's being. It was the Will of Freedom. God, through the Will of Freedom, was made manifest and would work by this will.

How did this Will of Freedom come to being? This was something God knew, but would not want to dwell upon. Because when God thinks about the events preceding his conception, he would do nothing but wish to see his creator.

How would he not? Could a child be blamed for wanting to meet his parent?

Would you be happy with my decision, Father? Wanting to fend off the conqueror first before letting creation run its course… Or would you admonish me for being too weak not doing both?

God, in a moment's weakness, landed his thoughts to his progenitor.

You wanted to live in your world again.

God imagined his parent's face.

Should you return and I had not accomplished something so simple—

Part of him wanted to summon his parent right away, just pick him up and fend off the conqueror as father and child! But there was also a part of God who wanted to impress his creator.

I want you to be proud of me, of my independence…

God steeled himself and decided to let creation run its course.

Before I'll call for you, I'll show you what I'm made of, Father.

And God said: Let there be light.

Creation was a very special experience to God.

Not even a few millennia passed he went from wanting to see his parent to becoming one himself. He was a parent to his angels, in a fashion. God didn't expect the amount of joy it would bring him! It's one thing to be omniscient, but sitting through the experience of fathering his angels was a different matter altogether. Just now Gabriel, one of the older angels, had given him a plant from Eden. It was a very endearing gift, especially its vibrant white flowers. This plant, in time, would eventually be called the Daucus Carota by Carl Linnaeus. For now, however, this was nothing more than the white flowered plant in Eden. In the language of flowers, which would be introduced in a few millennia as well, the bishop's lace would mean the sanctuary of a happy home.

God hugged his child tightly, Gabriel giving a playful groan of annoyance as God's bountiful beard nudged her forehead.

"Hey, you're tickling me!" She flapped her wings, prompting him to laugh heartily and hug her even tighter.

"Father, have you seen Azazel?" Michael, another one of his children, walked in. "He told me he found the most peculiar thing."

Before God replied, he had given a good look at everything around him. The Heavens were bustling with nothing but the whims and antics of God and his children. Some of the choirs had given interest in song, hence their voices ringing throughout the heavens. Others have been allured by the martial techniques, and thus have been honing their skills. This would be the skills they would use in the upcoming war they have no idea they will partake in, but God had taken the harrowing thought aside and enjoyed the passion they showed. If only God had pursued creation earlier than he had.

It was a cathartic feeling.

But if there was joy in creation, the opposite would soon follow. And in answering Michael, God would let fate run its course. "Why don't I look for him in your stead, Michael?"

'Looking for him' might not be accurate. God mused. If there was a list of advantages of omnipotence, this nifty ability would be high up.

God and Gabriel went to the place he knew where Azazel would be at this point in time: Fifth Heaven. Here God found him entranced in a piece of text. The angel's curiosity would only be rivalled by his oldest child, Helel. This curiosity would lead to Azazel to fall in the coming millennium. God would not wholeheartedly forsake his child, but to build the world his parent had lived this would also be needed to run its course.

Lately, however, God wanted to change fate for the betterment of his children. He could herald a better world for both of his children and his parent, could he not? This might not be the same world he had inhabited, but if it meant his children wouldn't have to fall…! God had to live through the course of time; year by year, decade by decade throughout the millennia resisting the urge to take advantage of his omnipotence. This was one of many times.

Which would prove to be greater: His desire to fulfill the wish of his parent? Or his willingness to disregard his old wish to keep his children from falling? God settled with listening in to what Azazel was doing, distracting himself off his idle thoughts.

Azazel was in the middle of muttering the text aloud:

"This I deliver to the Śrāvaka;

I saw the end of Trailokya in the future world! In the world after Saṃsāra.

For the drum of Saṃsāra echoes loudly throughout the world's ten directions;

the palace of the East, under encompassed in radiant light, enters the Womb World.

The Unenlightened Man under great sorrow and compassion becomes half-man half-devil;

the Hordes of Evil come and join him.

The principles are incarnated by Vajrasattva in the birth of spirit;

and created is the new world—"

Azazel was muttering aloud the text's contents as if he was trying to figure out why the text was written the way it was.

"Azazel?" Gabriel called, looking over her brother's shoulder to the written text.

"Ah, Gabriel! Father!" He turned, text on hand. "Did Michael send you? No matter, look at this…"

Azazel let his sister God read the text. "This text, the author called himself Maitreya. It is saying it has come to the future—"

"The Scripture of Miroku, huh. It contained records of worlds before my conception."

""What?!"" Both of his children exclaimed.

Azazel narrowed his eyes. "Not just a world before?"

"I have already told you, all of you, of this." God looked at the text. "I began creation to fulfill the wish of my parent."

God had told his angels about his plans, there was no reason to keep it secret. The only secret God kept to himself is fate's path. God knew what some of his children would do with the information, especially if they were still in the process of falling. This too was part of the pains of his desire.

Azazel's eyes then widened. "The scripture, it spoke of a man who—!"

"Yes… that is him." God's usually purposeful voice hesitated slightly. "His work in the world before was the sole reason of my conception. Thus, my parent."

Gabriel looked at him. "How come it survived?"

"I… don't know." God, wide-eyed, was surprised at his own cluelessness.

His daughter's golden locks waved as she stepped closer, her emerald eyes were upturned in concern. "Father? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Shall we relay this text to your siblings?"

"Hêlēl wanted to have a look, as well. Both of us will show it to the rest once he and I are finished." Azazel reassured him. He went off with Gabriel, him letting her read the rest of the text as they flew off.

God smiled. "I'll tell Michael."

As God left, the usual thought of the future would linger: This isn't enough. Reach out to him for crying out loud! Keeping him, all of them, from the fall is but a conversation away! How is this freedom on their part? You're a puppeteer using the strings of fate—all for what!? Father would be proud of you regardless, he has to!

I…

I decided to pursue creation, like you, Father. You've trodden mountains of corpses for me to exist, shouldn't I do the same in turn?

It would be as easy as breathing, changing fate.

But my children, my little angels… I love them so much…

God could weep for his selfishness, but he only laughed at it all as tears ran across his cheeks.

"It's just like what Epicurus will say about me a millennium from now." God recalled another one of his most thought of mortal written texts and spoke aloud:

"God either wishes to take away evils, and is unable;
or He is able, and is unwilling;
or He is neither willing nor able,
or He is both willing and able.

If He is willing and is unable? He is feeble, which is not in accordance with the character of God;
if He is able and unwilling? He is envious, which is equally at variance with God;
if He is neither willing nor able? He is both envious and feeble, and therefore not God;
if He is both willing and able… which alone is suitable to God, from what source then are evils? Or why does He not remove them?"

God stilled his mind and resolve himself. I am an emanation of freedom. To allow freedom is to allow evil. Some of my children will fall, but that alone would not cause me to abandon them. I am not righteous. If my love for my father and my children are a sin, then I am malevolent!

If God was to be righteous, then God would cease to be who he is. He would be akin to YHVH, to the conqueror! The sword of the Great Will, the tyrant who spurns freedom in favor of blind righteousness.

And God had decided long ago.

In my name as the Sword of the Will of Freedom, I would rather cease to be God if it meant not becoming such an abomination!

That being said, God wouldn't just sit idly by and let fate do what it wills.

This, too, is a fruit of freedom.

"Father?" He heard Michael arrive. "What… is this place?"

"This, Son, is the seventh heaven." God smiled at the Seraph's astonishment.

"You… made another heaven?"

"I made another heaven." God nodded with a laugh. "But this isn't a place where anyone could just pop in, I made sure of that."

"What is this place for then?"

"This is for a system I have built."

"A system?" Michael looked around. "I… do not see anything."

And with good reason too. Everything was white. The seraph could tell where the realm starts nor where it should end. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't even find where he had gotten in. All he could do is stare around in confusion. From this new heaven, there was no easy way to access the other heavens, let alone enter it from outside the hallowed realms.

God laughed. "The realm is the system. That's the beauty of it!"

"I… do not understand." Michael shook his head. "What is it for?"

"Heh, 'member when your brothers let you see the Scripture of Miroku?" God began. "Well, there was something bugging me."

"I think I was told about that, but that was over a millennium ago now…" Michael hummed, trying to recall. "Was it how you failed to know how the text survived?"

God nodded. "I gave it a though and reduced it to two possibilities: it's either there are forces beyond me that kept me for remembering…"

"—or…" He then slapped the back of his son. "—your old man's finally getting senile!"

God laughed heartily, and laughed even harder after he saw Michael gave up his stern façade and smiled with him.

"Are you worried about something?" Michael, still smiling, looked up at him. "Maybe I can gather the others, we might be able to help."

God shook his head and ruffled his son's hair. "It's not that worrying, trust me."

His son nodded, even if God could see through Michael's expression.

"This system will keep check with everything. Not chain freedom itself, per se, but just guide it enough so it won't fall apart so quickly. Even without me in the picture."

Michael's brow furrowed. "Are you going to—?!"

"Don't write your old man out just because I'm making something like this!" God bellowed; his smile ever-present. "This is the same as turning tree branches in certain directions. Not really cutting things out of the plant, but just enough bendiness that you'll know they'll grow well."

"I see."

God nodded, smiling. "This system is for my wish, as well."

"About your creator?"

He nodded, looking at the blank space. "Not gonna call him 'grandpa'?"

"I have not even met him."

A pregnant pause followed; Michael tried to look at where God was looking at while waiting for either of them to break the silence.

"You're one of the strongest, between your brothers and sisters, you know?" God said, suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Just—humor your old man."

"Okay…?"

"Have you ever felt like you're on your last legs, son? Like it'll be your last minute in existence?"

"…"

"You don't have to answer that. Ha-ha." God shook his head. "See, being omniscient? I have this thing where I know there's a point in my life, my existence, where I still see everything happen. Yet, I'm not in it."

"…Father?"

"I know how it sounds. But I'm not worried. Except about not making him proud of what I've done."

"About your creator…" Michael nodded. "You told us before how you could just call him at any moment."

"Yeah, but I couldn't just do that before I made the world, the one he wanted to live in." God sighed. "It didn't feel right if I just called him without anything to show for, you know?"

"A world he wanted to live in?"

"That's the reason I was made, son…"

Michael waited with baited breath.

"The reason why I wanted to pursue creation, as well. The reason why all of this, my work—has come to being. My wish."

Michael nodded. "I think I understand."

"You're the only one I've told this to," He looked up with a sigh. "…God's little wish."

"I think it's not a bad thing, Father. Wishing for him to be proud of you."

God let out a breath and smiled at the angel. Then God patted his shoulder. "Hey, I'm the only one saying things. Tell me, you ever wished for something?"

Michael shook his head.

"This system takes that into account, you know?" God smiled. "You might wanna say it sometime to the system too. It's like a little confession, a prayer—if you will."

Michael smiled. "I don't think I will need to do so anytime soon, Father. I am happy being with everyone."

God hugged his son. "If that day ever comes, just pray, alright? Even if I'm not there to hear it, the system will."