THE BASTARD SONS OF ENOCH PT III: CYCLIC ENTRAPMENTthe next phase of revolution will be a battle of weaponry of technology, of information, intelligence, and of spirituality
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He came to, walking, not knowing for how long nor how far he had gone. he did not recall any descision being made to take his own course, but there he was- he did not expect to distinguish his footprints from the desert sands. he did not bother to look back
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they expected to hear the sound of falling ordinance or the voice of god alone in the wistling desert, the winds turning the sands against the earth. they would fall down every now and again, dizzy beneath the unresponsive sun. and when they would get up, fighting the senses that railed against them, they would become less and less aligned- with
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Despiration filled them- the air left their lungs. there was an empty space, a time, a moment, calling for prayer, but nothing came to mind- nothing but god, "oh, god," to be precise
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