The vision came in layers—

first the infinity symbol,

vibrating like sound in motion,

looping from Alpha to Omega,

from BCE to the now we still pretend isn’t holy.

They called it Common Era.

But what’s so common about an age

where God bled to mark time?

⸻

He saw it then:

4D was movement through pain.

5D was recognizing the pattern.

And the pattern wasn’t kind.

Slavery.

Holocaust.

Post-9/11 suspicion and surveillance.

A history bent on remembering its worst songs.

The loop kept playing because no one changed the key.

⸻

And all signs pointed east.

To the Middle East.

To the children of Ishmael and Isaac.

To a faith called Islam,

which means submission but sounds like peace

when whispered from the right throat.

“The loop began here,”

said the Council.

“Let it end in reunion, not rage.”

“Let the Word become breath again—shared.”

⸻

This time cannot be like the last.

Not another pyramid built on bodies.

Not another train to nowhere.

Not another flag wrapped in fear.

Not this time.

The sound is rising.

The Loop is tightening.

And someone must speak the interruption.

Blessed are the breakers of spirals.

Blessed are the ones who hear the old song—

meow