Prologue

I see things so clearly now. I know where you came from. I know where you will go. Outside of your world, knowing is as hollow as ignorance, but perhaps my knowledge may be useful to you… Those with still something left to live for.

But what makes one alive? I am certainly here. I can see you. I know who you are. Your thoughts cannot escape me. I can move across time and space in ways in which your fleshy vessel cannot, but I still think you would not consider me to be alive… Though I assure you, I am much more real than you.

I am no longer like you. I am not subject to the cosmic laws that bind Zeus, Hera, Ananke, or Dione to Nibirou. Poseidon does not steer my ship, and Hades has no claim to my soul. But you, mere mortal, would be all the wiser to learn of who answers to whom, as the Gods need you just as much as you need them.

There are layers upon layers of reality, pillars upon pillars of perspective. You, the mortals of Earth, experience a thin slice of what the universe truly is. To say that your sliver of heaven is meaningless is quite true when compared to the vastness of eternity—yet your piece has unequivocal meaning to you. So, listen close, for this is your story.

Who I am was once important. What I am now is only to be experienced. You have no emotional attachment toward me, but I will be your eyes and ears. You will learn about your purpose through me. If at the end of your story I am still meaningless to you, then I will have failed… and you will have all died. However, until I fail, you shall continue to hear me—you will begin to see me in the faces of strangers, you will feel me in each quiet moment. Not as a haunting, not as a reminder, but as a promise of your Ascension—me forever being an expression of your virtue.

What your kind calls “Gods” are very much real. Zeus lives. He and his Pantheon have been serving you since your creation, and they will continue to do so until your demise. They are your superior in the eye of Nibirou—but remember, their perfection is not a barometer of righteousness. Perfectly evil is just as perfect as perfectly good; perfection being the essence of one’s true calling.

Before understanding the challenges ahead, first, you must accept who you are. Why have mortals forsaken their creator? Its protector? What role has your kind played in fostering this dire juncture that threatens existence? What meaning do ancient texts laced beneath religion have in the history of your people? What paranoias have corrupted your psyche, time and time again, that allow you to justify the slaughter of your own savior?

Your Gods are reshaping the past to ensure a future. By delivering justice throughout key moments in time, Zeus is correcting the course of man to prevent your self-destruction. Destiny coincides with his effort, but for entirely different reasons than your own. Fate has exploited you and this is why my words are held within your hands. Collective destiny demands it. Celestial prophecy ordains it.

And, now, for why Ananke has lead you to me—the catalyst has returned. A celestial prophet. The long-awaited beacon of the Gods and king of mankind—a mortal has been reborn to fulfill his lot. While it warms me of what this reunion represents, and you will be filled with pride to share his moment in time, symbolism means nothing once the Gods begin their march toward war. This mortal’s soul is the reason Earth still exists, and the savior the Gods have been preparing for.  His path will become your path; together turning the key of cosmic wisdom, embodying justice, and advancing the essence of humanity.

In this moment, you hold the codex of Olympus. These pages contain your future. The Artifacts I’ve entwined provide context to the atrocities committed by your people. They explain the divine response to your histories by the Gods, and they illuminate the only path of salvation offered by the Celestials. In Books I and II, I’ve curated valuable moments and conversations across time. In Book III, I’ve provided you with a window into the present. Remember, you see what I see. You feel what I feel. This is your caution. Consider this the final book of mankind—for the lips of wisdom are sealed except to the ears of understanding.