Corey Freeman

Where Angels Fear to Tread

Everything made perfect sense now, whether in terms of the big picture or my own personal life. Through Zara I had acquired the missing piece of the puzzle, no less, which I needed to fulfil my destiny as a saviour. Not in the classical sense, of course. But, nevertheless, I was about to give souls the opportunity to save themselves, from a decision which they’d long since forgotten they’d even made. Rules that had previously made such decisions irreversible were no longer valid, and I myself had invalidated them, on account of my growth in consciousness, in defiance of a world that was designed to have the opposite effect. Whilst some conspiracy theorists were aware of this ‘war on consciousness’, they had understandably considered it to be malevolent in nature. Who could have guessed that the world was actually a euthanasia facility, for souls who no longer wanted to exist, and that ‘evil’ was merely the result of people acting from a very low state of consciousness, as they headed inexorably towards oblivion?