But all that happened in the past. Now, I shall tell you of another tale that is unfolding right now.

Behold, ten thousand ambassadors of the ten thousand planets, all gathered here upon a windswept field of Terra. Purity stands on a hill, preaching of the sacrifice Will made for the entire galaxy.

“I tell you, that story was not relevant,” Observer complains to the narrator, turning his eyes away from Purity. Then a cry of awesome wonder rises from the crowd as the true god, who made Sword, Sheath, Terra and its people, descends beside her. Purity kneels, but the god stretches out his hand to none other than Observer!

“End your bitterness now,” he says in a perfectly mortal tone that neither booms nor echoes, “Return to me, Recorder!”

A clear shining light radiates from Observer’s visage, and vast white wings unfurl from his shoulders. Recorder takes flight.

“Eons I have waited for you,” he sobs, casting off ages of loneliness with every flap of his wings, “Recording all that is seen and unseen!”

“Now record this new time,” the true god commands, “And you will be with me always, even until the end of time.”

Thus the god ascends with his first servant. Purity breaks into a song of praise, and as though they have heard this tune all their lives, the ten thousand take up the chorus. And it is not so strange, now, to see the face of Will Riser smiling upon her from the heavens, as the new god wings his way across the galaxy in triumph of what his son has done.

END