Shattering Humanity-Chapter 388: A Pink Iron Flower & The Voynich Manuscript

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.
Chapter 388: A Pink Iron Flower & The Voynich Manuscript

Woe to the majestic crown of Ephraim’s drunkards, and to the fading flower of its beautiful splendor, which is on the summit above the rich valley.

Woe to those overcome with wine.

Look, the Lord has a strong and mighty one—like a devastating hail storm, like a storm with strong flooding water. He will bring it across the land with his hand.

The majestic crown of Ephraim’s drunkards will be trampled underfoot.

The fading flower of his beautiful splendor, which is on the summit above the rich valley, will be like a ripe fig before the summer harvest. Whoever sees it will swallow it while it is still in his hand.

On that day the Lord of Armies will become a crown of beauty and a diadem of splendor to the remnant of his people, a spirit of justice to the one who sits in judgment, and strength to those who repel attacks at the city gate.

Even these stagger because of wine and stumble under the influence of beer:

Priest and prophet stagger because of beer.

They are confused by wine.

They stumble because of beer.

They are muddled in their visions.

They stumble in their judgments.

Indeed, all their tables are covered with vomit; there is no place without a stench.

Who is he trying to teach?

Who is he trying to instruct?

Infants just weaned from milk?

Babies removed from the breast?

"Law after law, law after law, line after line, line after line, a little here, a little there."

For he will speak to this people with stammering speech and in a foreign language.

He had said to them, "This is the place of rest; let the weary rest; this is the place of repose." But they would not listen.

The word of the Lord will come to them:"Law after law, law after law, line after line, line after line, a little here, a little there," so they go stumbling backward, to be broken, trapped, and captured." -Isaiah 28:1-13

________________

Man’s Voice: "It is said to be an undecipherable text. Nobody knows what is written, when exactly it was finished, or why the unknown author took his or her time to fill all 270+ pages.

It really is a total mystery to humanity."

{5 Years Before Leviathan’s Invasion}

[Brown University, Rhode Island]

Within the enormous library of the prestigious Ivy League campus, one sole person sits alone at a table. A beer can is heard cracking open, and an middle aged librarian comes over to the culprit.

Her whispers are sharp and irritation flies off her dry tongue.

Librarian: "Um, excuse me...

Alcohol is not allowed on-"

Turning around in her chair, 10 years younger then her known figure, Jesse James gives a deathly stare back at the nagging woman.

Her appearance makes the angry woman recalibrate her emotions.

Librarian: "O--Oh...Ms. James I--I--I.."

The future apocalyptic sheriff takes a swig from her freshly opened, cold can, and looks away from her instigator.

Jesse James: "Just go away, and lock this place up for me.

I’m going to be busy for the rest of the night."

The older librarian acts as if she is frightened of the college student, and slowly backs away as if from a wild, rabid animal.

Librarian: "Y--Yes Ma’am."

The woman runs away and the doors can be heard shutting and being locked from the other side.

There is a loud clock ticking somewhere in the closed library as the sole resident bends over in her chair to fish through her school backpack.

She takes out an old, withered, tan, goat skinned covered book. The clearly intelligent young woman doesn’t open it, but yet, examines the cover with over 270 pages in between. Without any use of historical dating techniques, she seems to be able to analyze the

Jesse James: "This definitely isn’t the original cover as when whomever was writing in it.

If this is truly a manuscript written by someone in the 15th century, using a harder material such as smoothed wood made it easier for the writer to work without a proper desk."

She carefully opens up to the first page. It looks as if the written scribbles inside are written in a fantasy language to the average person. Imprinted in the pages are green markings left from pressed leaves.

The young scholar studies the page very diligently. Her pink eyes slowly moving from left to right.

As if she were surprising herself while being able to decipher the unknown language. The pink haired head starts to move with her matching colored eyes.

Jesse James: "Wh-...

How am I -...?

How do I know what is written down?

I’ve never seen this language before, but...but..."

Showing a bit of anxiety, the unaware 2nd Generation DæMon begins to sweat and she wipes it from her pink eyebrows.

Jesse James: "I mean, it’s still all jibberish, poorly written concrete poetry, and confident but very uneducated observations about the world.

Someone actually took the time to write all of this?

Why?!"

While her face is deeply buried in the mysterious book, a newly familiar, soft, breathy voice comes from the seat right next to the information absorbing student.

Phæstis: "Whyyy noot?"

Scaring the future sheriff out of her seat, Jesse James kicks the table and her half full beer can falls off.

However, instead of falling on the startled woman’s face, a pale hand quickly grabs the alchol can and catches the small amount of liquid in one full motion.

From the floor, the scared student looks up at her large chested scarer.

Jesse James: "Who...Who are you?

How did you get in here?

I know for a fact you weren’t in here a few minutes ago when I had that woman lock up this building!"

Phæstis’ eyes are still closed as she tilts her head. She places the caught can back on the table, while putting the pointer finger from her other hand up to the corner of her mouth.

Phæstis: "Ohh..."

Taking a minute to realize the situation, and put together the two separate instances of her understanding a globally mysterious text with the appearance of this airheaded woman, the college educate carefully gets back on her feet.

Jesse James: "Are you the one who wrote that book?

The manuscript that has baffled and confused historians, and philologists for centuries, was composed by...you?"

The intruding woman gawks at the opened book.

Phæstis: "Diiid I?"

Taking a relaxing deep breath, Jesse James sits across the table from the empty-headed writer. The ticking clock, once again echoes throughout the building of books and the closed eyed woman begins bobbing her head to the metronomy of the steadily repeating sound.

No sooner, she starts letting out soft, short hums to match the one second beating ticks.

Giving a suspicious look across the table at her new acquaintance, the 2nd Generation young lady reaches for the book.

Phæstis: "Whyyy do youuu want tooo look aat thaat?"

With her head kept down, Jesse James’ pink eyes look up and across at the curious Völva.

Jesse James: "I’m trying to read what is inside."

Phæstis: "Ohh..."

Now annoyed with her new company, the student’s nose twitches at the questions and responses she views as a nuisance. The very capable, independent woman continues to read and examine while she also holds a discussion with the vacuous, busty woman.

Jesse James: "I’m Jesse.

Jesse James. What’s your name? If you have one..."

As if needing a few seconds to process arguably one of the easiest questions possible, the woman "hmmmms" while thinking, until finally...

Phæstis: "Phhhhæssstisss...

Myyy naaame, is Phhæsstiss."

The woman with baggy clothing, pink hair and pink eyes straightens up in her chair after hearing the name. She then lets a chuckle escape from her.

Jesse James: "How ironic.

That’s the same name of the mother to one of the most prolific thinkers to ever be recorded throughout history."

Phæstis: "Ohh..."

By now the confusing and confused woman’s schtick has been revealed. No longer being seen as any sort of threat, this time, a defeated sigh leaves Jesse James and she puts her head in her hands.

Jesse James: "So, tell me (if you can) why can I read what’s written in this book? Ever since it was infamously brought into the world’s light, nobody has been able to read or decipher anything but what the pages and ink are made from."

Phæstis: "Hmmm...I dooon’t knoooww..."

Jesse James: "Of course you don’t."

Phæstis: "Yoooouuu’re veeeerrry preeeettyyyy..."

Jesse James: "Thanks."

Suddenly, the book is yanked from her sight and one of the free pencils inside a cup on the table is snatched.

The creative woman hunches over the book and flips to the back page, it is blank.

Amazed, Jesse James watches as Phæstis turns the entire manuscript while she writes.

After 10 minutes, the mystical lady bites her thumb, making it bleed. She rubs her pointer and thumb together, then uses the makeshift paint.

After she is done, the dark green haired woman straightens her back up against the chair and sits smiling with her eyes closed.

Phæstis: "Annnd it’s fiiinnnally doooonnnneee."

Not peeking at the work until it was finished, Jesse James’ pink eyes widen once she sees her new companion’s art.

Jesse James: "Is that...?"

On the final page is a concrete poem, in the form of the 2nd Generation DæMon. The "blood paint" used to color in the hair and eyes

Phæstis: "Youuuu’re veeeerrry preeeettyyy, like aahh flowerrrr."

RECENTLY UPDATES