Prologue

Restored from the Empower Network archive (2011–2017), lightly edited to meet our current advertising standards. Views are the original author’s.

“Master why do you always paint your canvas black?” The greatest painter answered, “Underneath everything revealed by light is a place light cannot reach where there is darkness” The apprentice then looked up at the master and asked, “Master, why do you start with a white canvas?” The master sighed as his eyes drifted to a far off place “We are all first born as light then the world paints darkness over us, if you do not acknowledge this, then everything you paint will be a lie.” The apprentice then humbled to the great wisdom of the master knelt before him, “Help me then great master to scrape the blackness off my canvas” The master in awe of the Apprentice’s humility knelt down beside the Apprentice, “Black is essential in all creatures, there, that we can recognize light even in the darkest of colors”

Prologue

ABBADON

“The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving, control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser, a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully. “

-Richard Dawkins

What is man but lying beast, more parasite than iconic purity? He consumes this world with envious gluttony. His greed controls him, reign to steed. The experiment is at an end. Humanity has failed me, Me who pulled them from their swamps, their trees. Who am I but their creator? A creator they forget and mock. Many times, I made this world over, only to be repulsed by my creations. It is themselves they love, with their pride and vanity. My existence of eons and super eons for this world is far older than is dared thought, seeks for love or end but left without warmth my heart turned to withered icy stone, burning with chill vehement rage.

I’ve known not love, I came from Mother’s womb to kill her with my first breath… my skin a poison, and so as my father took me from her, he too fell to gasping horrid death. Alone, in torment, I’ve existed as nothing more than uncomforted agony from the dawn of of this wretched earth… and perhaps I shall remain even when it is at an end. Nothing yet has killed me, though all that nears is granted precious miserable demise.

Over the millenniums of eternity my soul has sunk from morality to madness. I am a jealous God, the almighty Creator, and Vengeance is mine. I who so loved the world begot man for my adoration, but man loves himself above me. Each of my creations have been so flawed. I who give life and breath to this world, give also destruction time and time again. God and Satan I am the power behind these names yet I cannot construct cognizant beings who devote themselves to me. Me this wretched mistake of immortality.

So with man’s beloved strings of greed and gluttony I wove a web. One unnoticed, invisible in the shadows, a trap so devious there is naught the struggle to escape it, only the mirage of glory further in. I wait till my prey is so addicted to the golden nectar of disguised abomination, it’s nature betrays it’s survival. When a species cannot part from narcissistic exaltation to holistic preservation it quick becomes it’s own obliteration.

Berlin Germany

February 27, 1933

“The media’s the most powerful entity on earth. They have the power to make the innocent guilty and to make the guilty innocent, and that’s power. Because they control the minds of the masses.”

-Malcolm X

Reichstag’s flames first devoured the building but before they truly died they scorched every citizen, not only in Germany but around the world. Hitler’s rise to power started with a blaze. This echoed forward in time and around the globe, tyrants bombing their own countries to persuade their people of their need for absolute power and the people gave it to them… These people died.

Location Unknown

August 4, 1961

“Men!  The only animal in the world to fear.”
~D.H. Lawrence

Barry came into the world like all babies do, covered in blood and with a war cry. His mother’s eyes overflow with tears as she clutches him to her breast, excited to see perfectly formed fingers and toes, she’d worried there might be something wrong with him, but he is perfect, his soft black hair already has a touch of curl… but as he begins sucking at her breast, Barry’s mother still worries something might be wrong, though she can’t quite place her finger on it. Perhaps it’s his initials…. B.O. or that his middle name rhymes with insane…

Cairo University Hospital

August 11, 1992

Inside the Urology lab of Amr Fergany, Doctor Robert Joseph White and Professor Vladimir Demikhov finish their latest experiment. Their subject breaths it will take some time for the nerves to connect completely… but there are movements almost so slight as to be undetectable… but enough to promise the embryonic neuronal shark cells are doing exactly what the two Doctors desire them to… In a few days Doctor Death will open new eyes… eyes that won’t see the face of the most wanted Nazi war criminal but the eyes of a man half his age. Aribert Ferdinand Heim will live again. They pack up their equipment and their patient in fourteen hours they will land in Cleveland Ohio, the only evidence of this night’s work a few out of place instruments.

Washington D.C.

September 11, 2001

“The scream of the twelve-inch shrapnel is more penetrating than the hiss from a thousand Jewish newspaper vipers. Therefore let them go on with their hissing.”

― Adolph Hitler Mein Kampf

At seven eighteen A.M. Kenneth W. Dam’s telephone rings, it is a phone call he’s been waiting for. His excitement is so overpowering his hands shake. This is the beginning of a bright new future. There will be losses of course but they are prepared for them… “Dam here…” he smiles at his wit.

November 1, 2012

“People shouldn’t expect mass media to do investigative stories. That job belongs to the ‘fringe’ media.”

-Ted Koppel

Alex Jones sits quietly in his house wondering if what he’s done, has been enough. This election would be writing a history of the world unlike any other, and while he can’t be sure who will win, he has his suspicions he won’t like the new President elect or anointed as GOP election fraud points towards. “God,” he thinks, “Please let it be Ron Paul.” He doubts the New World Order will allow that to happen… Presidential elections have been quietly controlled for far too long… The United States President is too much of a lynch pin in their plans… Plans that include killing off ninety percent of the people on the planet. The main stream media, filling up the channels with Mitt Romney or Barrack Obama give Alex overwhelming disgust, that so much of Journalistic integrity has been bought out. Thinking of what might soon be his imprisonment, torture and death his heart speeds up, he lifts his drink, gulping down some more alcohol, not really tasting it, just feeling the burn, and Alex Jones vows to keep fighting to the end.