Vestigial Notes

Once, there lived the greatest alchemist that ever existed. With his paramount amount of craft and wisdom, he transformed the sands of Sahara into gold, the water of the Red Sea into blood, and the forest of Amazon into towering pillars. He discovered the greatest treasures that were buried from the depths of Bermuda, and wielded the immortal runes of falling stars into diamonds. He knew the way to the core of the Earth, and how it can be destroyed. He wanted everything to fall right in his control and yield all kinds of knowledge. But in his erroneous wandering, he found one thing he's not capable of, and that is to love. Thus, he realised the utmost truth of them all. He is not God.

The phrase echoed itself deeply into his being. He is not God. And he was left beaten by his own magic. Nothing was left but to enter the door of death. So for the last time, he gathered all his remaining strengths to explode into a supernova much brighter than the sun. He transfigured every living animal into statues, every living sage into bread, and every living wise entity into whatever else he desired. Like a great wave that swerved around the Earth for 40 days, all turned into chaos and all have been curved to dust.

After such mayhem, he was gone, but the atoms that composed him, converted themselves into the most unsuspecting species. They formed lines of black and red in all forms of lands, and hid in their mounds the supreme wisdoms the legendary alchemist formerly possessed. They are what we called ants.

In their souls lie his ultimate, yet dark discoveries, the history that crafted man. And to learn them (before killing them) is my oath –my purpose.