Meeting 4 : The Deity Awakening
Meeting: 15th January 2025
Published: 19th January 2025
Meeting: 15th January 2025
Published: 19th January 2025
Hi, I'm Suzan. As I sit here recalling my fourth meeting with the Shaka, I'm struck by a peculiar mix of emotions: the weight of responsibility, awe, and, this time, a lingering sense of foreboding. This meeting was different. It was colder, faster-and for reasons I still don't fully understand, I felt uneasy. Perhaps they'd planned it that way.
The moment I arrived, I could feel the urgency. I stepped onto the familiar platform, the translucent material humming beneath my feet. Two Shaka, green-skinned and elegant, stood at the ready. They said nothing but gestured toward Earth, their movements sharp and deliberate. Then, as abruptly as they'd appeared, they vanished into the ether.
Before I could process what had just happened, she was there. The Shaka I've come to think of as "the Lady with the Horn Crown," a figure of regal authority. She wasted no time, grabbing my arm and pulling me along a dim corridor. Her usual grace was replaced by something frenetic. She led me to the donut room, the massive, translucent chamber where critical decisions seemed to unfold. This time, it was bustling with activity.
In the center of the room, a holographic figure writhed. It resembled a human but was bathed in white beams of light. The Shaka explained, in their cryptic way, that this was an interrogation. The figure was a political pawn, questioned but unharmed. The topic? Earth. I tried to piece it together: Was this person a spy? An emissary? Or something else entirely? The Shaka's explanation, though brief, carried an undertone of warning.
As the interrogation continued, the hologram flickered, replaced by a display of spacecraft swarming Earth's orbit. One of them collided with a Starlink satellite, a stark reminder of the crowded chaos up there. Nearby, a massive mothership hovered, its presence both comforting and intimidating. "These are the good ones," the Shaka assured me. But what of the others?
Then, she said something that chilled me: "Starseeds are already on Earth." Starseeds? I couldn't help blurting out, "What does that mean?" She didn't answer directly, leaving me to wrestle with the implications.
The tension shifted as I was whisked to another part of the ship. A curtain-diamond-shaped and shimmering-parted, revealing a female figure unlike any I'd seen before.
Her translucent skin glowed softly, and she moved as tugh underwater, her flowing robe an extension of her body. The Shaka called her the Mother Breeder, the "first mother," revered and protected.
I was transfixed. She appeared unaware of my presence, her focus elsewhere. As I watched, taller beings-her protectors-entered the chamber. They performed a series of intricate gestures, summoning her into a glowing orb. The orb descended, piercing Earth's oceans to reach the underwater facility. There, something astonishing unfolded: tiny microbes, or were they eggs, began to emerge from her.
The Shaka's voice cut through my thoughts. "These are her creations, her legacy," she explained. My mind reeled. What purpose did these eggs serve? Were they the seeds of something greater or a safeguard against an uncertain future?
Suddenly, the scene shifted again. The Shaka projected an image of a planet-a dark, barren wasteland consumed by technology. It was a vision of Earth's potential future, stripped of nature and humanity's essence. "This is what we're trying to prevent," she said, her voice tinged with urgency.
The weight of her words hung heavy. How could we, with our relentless pursuit of progress, avoid such a fate? The Shaka seemed determined to help us, but their frustration was palpable. They were fighting not just for us but against us.
Back in the donut room, the atmosphere had grown more intense. The Shaka revealed an ongoing struggle: a menace from a parallel dimension, pushing to break through to our world. They called it the Sleep Duster. The committee was divided on how to handle it, their debate echoing through the chamber.
"We're keeping it at bay," the Shaka assured me, though their tone betrayed the enormity of the task. The parallel dimension's encroachment felt like a ticking clock, a threat that could change everything if unleashed.
The final stop was a series of cylindrical tunnels, lined with shimmering material. Inside, stardust and microbes swirled-remnants of a distant past. "These hold the secrets of humanity's origins," the Shaka said. They were searching for something buried deep in our DNA, a key to understanding our spiritual awareness and connection to the universe.
It was a revelation that left me breathless. What were they looking for? And why was it hidden? The Shaka seemed both intrigued and perplexed, their energy focused on unraveling the mystery.
Just as I thought the revelations were over, the Shaka guided me into a virtual reality simulation. The environment shifted, and I found myself descending beneath massive mountain ranges that resembled the Rockies. It was a breathtaking view until we plunged below the surface, deep into the earth.
As we descended, I saw vast tunnels and a colossal, ring-shaped structure hidden within the mountain. "This is an old creation point," the Shaka said. "An outpost of the Reptilians." The words sent a chill through me. The Shaka described the Reptilians as shape-shifters, entities long obsessed with control. Their presence beneath the mountain felt ominous, their intentions far from benevolent. The Shaka's voice softened, reassuring me: "We will persevere. We are here to help humanity resist this darkness."
The scene was both mesmerizing and unsettling. What other secrets lay buried beneath our world, hidden in plain sight?
As the meeting drew to a close, the Shaka showed me a hologram of Gilgamesh, the ancient warrior who battled the Bull of Heaven. "He represents the light," they said, their voices filled with reverence. It was a reminder of humanity's resilience, our ability to rise against darkness and usher in a new age.
But just as I felt a glimmer of hope, the Shaka's demeanor changed. "Time is running out," they said, their gaze locking onto mine. "The decisions you make now will shape everything." I felt a lump in my throat. "Why me?" I wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I bowed slightly, a gesture of gratitude and humility. The Shaka responded with a rare, comforting embrace before sending me hurtling back to Earth.
I'm back in my chair now, my mind racing. What did they mean by "time is running out"? And how can I, one person, make a difference? For now, all I can do is share their message and hope that someone-anyone-will listen.
But deep down, I know this is just the beginning. The real test is yet to come.