Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

From any perspective, Messe was not a young man; on the contrary, even in later generations, he could claim to be elderly.

From birth to old age, he had witnessed eighty springs and autumns of the Mortal Realm, and for Messe, this lifetime of memories could probably be divided into two parts.

Before he turned forty. In the year when Messe was just born, a great change occurred in the center of Upper and Lower Egypt, in Heliopolis. The Sun, which had been without a ruler for a thousand years, once again welcomed a new—or perhaps an old—lord. In any case, the master of the Hemenu world, Amon-Ra-Atum, reclaimed that supreme throne, and was clearly more powerful than before.

As a result, the various past events were buried in ancient history, and the open and secret struggles among All Gods came to an end. Even the Pharaoh of the Mortal Realm hurried to express his devotion to the Lord of the Sun of the tribes, and the way he expressed it was by further implementing the commands of Amon-Ra-Atum.

He ordered the Hebrews to build magnificent buildings without providing them with tools; he drove them from the lands rich in water and grass to live in desolate and remote places; he also decreed that the Hebrews were not allowed a second male offspring, attempting to reduce their numbers, and Messe was born just at this time.

He was the second child in the family, the one not permitted by the law to live on, hidden in secrecy, but as he grew day by day, Messe's existence eventually became impossible to conceal forever.

So, to protect his life, Messe's mother took a papyrus basket, coated it with bitumen and pitch, placed the child inside, and secretly set the basket among the reeds on the riverbank where the Pharaoh's daughter often swam; she instructed Messe's sister to watch from a distance, wanting to know what would become of the child.

Perhaps it was the guiding hand of fate, a mere coincidence, or maybe someone else's covert influence, but in any event, the Princess of Egypt discovered Messe and ultimately decided to adopt him; seeing this, the child's sister pretended to stumble upon them by accident, offering to find a wet nurse for the noble Princess's foster son.

Hence, the child's birth mother came back to her own child's side, albeit under a different pretext, and everything once again proceeded along the same track.

From that day forth, knowledge and civilization from two worlds converged upon Messe, just like his soul, which was composed of elements from both worlds.

His Egyptian royal foster mother endowed Messe with knowledge and wisdom, setting him apart from those short-sighted, ignorant people; and his birth mother, who raised him under the guise of a wet nurse, made him inherit the heritage of race and religion, reminding him of the faith passed down through generations of Hebrews, a worship of Deity starkly different from the Egyptians'.

It was not until the age of forty, when Messe visited the place where his people lived, that he encountered a turning point in his life. When an Egyptian humiliated his kin in front of him, Messe, out of righteous indignation, killed the man, thereby committing a great error.

A Royal Foster Son with Hebrew blood, killing an Egyptian for his kinfolk, was an intolerable act, a betrayal; even his own people did not understand him, thinking his actions would only aggravate the suffering imposed on them; thus, Messe fled, escaping to the land of the Midianites, a nomadic tribe.

He eventually took a wife and had children there, forgetting the past, and spent another forty years of life.

But today, in the eightieth year of his life, he saw the bramble that was not consumed by Fire on the side of the mountain where he was tending his flock.

...

"He has come!"

When Spirituality invaded the world, the bramble on the hill was ignited, and above Heliopolis, the supreme Lord of the Sun opened his eyes.

He pursued that fleeting sensation and the feeling of intrusion upon his own authority of Fire, but to no avail.

Since his rebirth, Amon-Ra-Atum had successfully advanced further. Seizing this rare opportunity, he absorbed the Strength the world had bestowed upon him during his encounter with the Outer Gods, and thus partially merged with the symbolic Absolute Space among The Eight Primordial Spirits, thereby obtaining some authority over the barriers to the world.

So he could be sure that just a moment ago, something had come in.

"No result, huh..."

His expression was icy, yet not angry. Ra, with the head of a mighty eagle, lifted his gaze, overlooking the Mortal World.

Unsurprisingly, he discovered nothing, but this time, Ra was in no hurry because he had come to an understanding.

Previously, he had always been afraid that taking action against mortals with bloodlines from the Alien Realm would cause him to miss some clues, but now it seemed that regardless of whether he let things be, the invasion from the Alien Realm had never ceased.

Even as he grew closer to the World Power, Ra felt his breath intertwine with the world. He could sense that this world, which had nurtured Upper and Lower Egypt and birthed the civilization along the banks of the Nile River and All Gods, was in an exceedingly perilous state.

"I was still too timid... The longer we delay, the greater our disadvantage becomes, so what we need is change."

A stern look flashed across his face as Ra stood on the Sun, overseeing the Mortal Realm.

Problems that are known must be resolved, and those where the issues are known to exist but not yet identified are even more pressing to solve. No victory in this world is simply waited upon; it is a privilege reserved for the victor.

Let him personally consign this trash, which should have been swept away long ago, into the pile of History. Once he cleared the threats at his own doorstep, he would also try to traverse the Void, to see the ends of the worlds beyond.

...

"At last... He has come."

The same content, with different tones.

Below an unnamed hill, unlike Ra, Isis at this moment was as beautiful as ever, but her expression held several layers of complexity.

Excitement, fear, and a touch of helplessness. Hiding around this nameless hill, Isis hesitated.

This was the first time she directly encountered the will of an Outer God, and she very directly felt the other's might. If she had not known about the existence of Alien Realm souls early on, she might not have noticed the arrival of the Outer God's power.

However, that was not the reason for her hesitation. What truly made her unsure about stepping forward was the other's unpredictable attitude.

It was quite laughable, considering everything she had done in the past—she had ordered the ancestors of the Hebrews to remember their traditions and passed down the legends of the Alien Deity from one generation to the next; she had discovered a soul that had breached the boundary and secretly gave it extra care.

But all this time, she had never actually communicated with the Alien Deity who had arranged everything, who might even be unaware of her existence.

Under such circumstances, no one knew what choice the other would make.

"This is the price of betrayal... Neither this world nor the other, I don't know which one can be trusted, but I can't turn back now."

Looking up at the sky, Isis gazed at the Sun, which had grown unfathomably more powerful than it was a thousand years ago.

Ra had grown stronger, and Isis did not know if she could continue to hide her whereabouts once he fully balanced Space and the Sun. Regardless, if she did not wish to die like a mortal, she would just have to keep moving forward.

"If I had chosen to tell Ra everything from the beginning, might there have been a turn of events?"

Sighing, Isis stepped barefoot on the soil, feeling the vibrant vitality of the world.

"Perhaps there would have been, perhaps not... Either way, I hope the outcome will be as I desire."

Watching Messe grow up under her gaze, Isis bit her lip.

"First, let's see what instructions he will receive," she thought. "It is wise to wait a bit longer before contacting that alien deity."

...

On the yet unnamed hill, Messe looked at the bush that burned but was not consumed.

This was a vision, but as a former royal foster son of Egypt, he knew very well that such visions could be fabricated.

Magicians who served the Pharaoh could do similar tricks, calling flames, summoning strong winds, turning staffs into snakes or frogs, and all of them had to obey the Pharaoh, who likened himself to a god among mortals.

Was this pursuit delayed for forty years? Messe didn't know, but he felt it wasn't. Because in that burning fire, he only felt warmth that reached deep into his soul.

'...'

'Step...'

'...'

"What? Who's speaking?"

An instinctive query, but the next instant, Messe realized that no one was actually speaking.

Only the sound of the flock and the wind echoed in this world.

'Step forward...'

'Step forward, Messe...'

'Step forward!'

There was no voice, but the voice resonated within his heart. Hearing his own name, Messe took a step back, but then that warm sensation made him yearn for more.

"I am here. Who are you? And why do you call me?"

He asked aloud, and for some reason, an unprecedented feeling surged from his heart. Messe didn't know what he was longing for, but his subconscious seemed to truly hope for something.

No educated person would want to devote their life to shepherding, nor would anyone wish to live their life as a fugitive and a convicted man, nor would anyone want to see their own kind treated as slaves just because of their inherent lineage.

But the past eighty years had told him that all this was unchangeable, because in Heliopolis lived the supreme among all gods, who decreed Pharaoh as the ruler of mortals, proclaiming the Hebrews were born sinful.

Mortals cannot resist the will of God. This is an irrefutable truth in all of Egypt.

'Step forward... I am your creator, and soon to be your savior... You are about to face destruction, and you are their only redemption.'

'Step forward, ascend Mount Sinai... This is your innate mission.'

The voice echoed again in his heart, in a way incomprehensible to ordinary people. Messe asked several more questions aloud, but this time no one responded.

Though advanced in years, his body still agile, Messe glanced back at the place he had visited forty years before. He didn't know whether what he was doing was right or wrong, but he felt that he indeed needed to do something.

"If that is the case, then I will come to meet you."

After a moment of silence, Messe rose, moved forward, took off his shoes, and approached the fire with the respect he had learned from his teacher as a child.
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The fire ignited him, yet did not harm a single hair on his skin.

It was as if he passed through a barrier separating illusion from reality, with bizarre sceneries flashing before Messe's eyes. Not knowing if it was a hallucination, he continued forward.

A world where gray touched white, where dreamlike bubbles interwove, where rivers flowed in the void, and winged beings sang hymns.

It was a world Messe had never seen before, but it strangely felt familiar. It seemed like that was his true home, the final resting place of his heart and soul.

Instinctively climbing higher, on the Mount of the Gods, which pierced through seven layers of worlds, Messe did not know how long he had walked. Only at a certain moment did he suddenly realize that everything he had seen before was left behind, and he had reached the summit.

"Is this... the dwelling of God?"

Walking on the ancient stone pathway, Messe moved forward step by step.

His emotions stirred because he realized that he might be about to meet a true deity.

In the past, he had imagined many forms of gods: the statues built by the Egyptians, the murals they painted. They had animal heads, human bodies, and controlled the natural elements of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning.

He thought he would encounter such a scene, but as he stepped over the last stair and looked up, there were no idols, no paintings, no traits of beasts or birds. His gaze seemed to pierce the barriers of the world, bearing witness to a sacred being standing beyond all worlds and time.

Its appearance was indescribable, its form undefinable. If Messe had to use one word to explain what he saw, even with all his wisdom, he only had one at his disposal.

"God."

Messe bowed his head, not daring to look anymore. Then, he prostrated himself on the ground, expressing his humility before the Supreme Being.