“No. This is only a projection of you. Where is your physical body?”
“I do not know. I only know that I am here.”
“Eolia, what has happened to you?”
“I do not know.”
“Eolia, it is urgent that you come home. We are being . . . .”
The man by the stream faded away, and the storm began to rage bringing with it hurricane winds, with lightening striking the sea, and thunder breaking upon the waves. Watching Nature’s symphony, Em stood upon the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean using his arms as batons directing the winds to release their destruction upon the Earth, upon the cities, upon the people. He killed them en masse. Millions died.
Red permeated the sky. The red became more brilliant, more intense. The red . . . .