The forgotten wisdom of Alula

The news that Amitiel had granted a postponement, albeit conditional, had brought a breath of fresh air to the charged atmosphere of Calakmul. Hope, fragile and precious, was beginning to sprout among the ancient ruins. They were gathered around a bonfire magically controlled by Merlin, whose dancing flames cast strange shadows on the faces of the leaders of the unlikely alliance. The power of Calakmul enveloped them, an ancient telluric energy that seemed to calm their frayed nerves and focus their thoughts.

Enki gazed into the flames, his golden face reflecting the light, an unusually contemplative expression on his Anunnaki features. The wild majesty of Calakmul, the deep connection of the Mayan sorcerers with the spirit of the planet, seemed to have touched something in him.

"This place... Calakmul," Enki began softly, his gaze lost in the silhouettes of the pyramids against the starry sky. "It resonates with a harmony, a communion with the spirit of the planet that is... exceptionally pure. It reminds me of a philosophy, an era almost forgotten even among the Anunnaki, before the needs of Nibiru and internal disputes defined our path. It reminds me of Alula."

A questioning silence fell over the group. Alula? The name was unfamiliar to most.

"Alula was not a warrior like my brother Enlil, nor a weaver of intrigue and knowledge as I have become," Enki continued, a tinge of melancholy in his voice. "She was... a Dreamer of Worlds. An Architect of Cosmic Consciousness. You might call her a sister of our spirit, though not always of our direct blood in the complex genealogies of Nibiru. She believed that the greatest power in the universe lay not in domination over others, nor in the extraction of resources, but in co-creation, in the mutual and harmonious flourishing of life and consciousness in all their forms."

Aria listened intently, the new magic that had awakened within her vibrating in tune with Enki's words.

"Alula's values ​​were... radically different from those that ultimately prevailed in the Council of Nibiru," the Anunnaki explained. "She advocated subtle guidance, being mere catalysts, offering sparks of knowledge and allowing young species, like yours in its infancy, to find their own path to wisdom, in deep harmony with the spirit of their homeworld. She saw each planet as a unique symphony, and each life form, conscious or not, as an essential and irreplaceable note in that cosmic melody. For her, the 'harvest' worthy of the Anunnaki was not of minerals or negative energy, but of shared understanding, of beheld beauty, of consciousness expanding throughout the universe."

Enki sighed, a strangely human sound coming from him. "If Alula's philosophy, if she herself, had been in charge of overseeing Terra when we arrived... all of this," he gestured, encompassing the global situation, the threat of Cthulhu, Nyx, the Netlins, "would never have happened. Your genetic manipulation to turn you into 'lulus,' into servants... unthinkable under her guidance. The sowing of blind reverence for us as 'gods,' the suppression of your intuitive connection to Gaia... all of this would have been anathema to her."

"Your evolution," he said, looking at the humans present, "would perhaps have been slower by Nibiru's standards, but infinitely more organic, wiser, more integrated with your planet. Your magic, your K'uh as Lord Quetzal calls it, would have flourished in balance with the spirit of the Earth, not in constant struggle or in a desperate search for power to survive the scars we ourselves inflict. You would have no need for an 'Anchor of Coherence' against madness, for coherence with the cosmos would have been your natural inheritance. The arrival of the Old Ones, had they dared to approach such a harmonious world, would have found a planet united in spirit and purpose, not this cacophony of fear and mistrust."

A thoughtful silence followed his words. Merlin nodded slowly. "There are always visionaries in every age, Enki. And often, their voices are the ones that history, or those who write it, choose to silence in favor of pragmatism, ambition, or simple necessity."

"Anu, our Father, the Great King of Nibiru, in his vast and inscrutable wisdom, or perhaps in his pressing need," Enki continued with a tinge of bitterness, "saw things differently. Terra's resources were vital to Nibiru's survival on its long journey through the void. Enlil's pragmatism, his belief in order imposed by force and the efficiency of programmed servitude, and my own... scientific curiosity, my desire to 'accelerate' your latent potential so that you could serve our purposes more fully Quickly... all of this outweighed Alula's dreams and warnings."

"So Anu entrusted this planet, Terra, to Enlil and me," the Anunnaki concluded, his gaze lost in the flames. "Two brothers, two opposing visions from the beginning. Enlil sought direct control, ruthless exploitation. I sought... a middle path, naively believing I could guide you to a form of consciousness useful to us, while extracting what we needed. Both of us," Enki admitted, and for the first time many saw genuine vulnerability in him, "were deeply arrogant. And Alula was relegated to the counsel of philosophy, her warnings about imbalance and long-term consequences dismissed as the daydreams of an idealist who didn't understand the 'harsh realities' of an empire's survival.

Enki's tale left the group mired in bittersweet reflection. The hope brought by the Netlin's reprieve was now tinged with the melancholy of what might have been, and a deeper understanding of the complex and often tragic motivations of the cosmic beings now playing out their destinies on Earth. Perhaps, in Alula's forgotten wisdom and the Mayans' ancestral connection to Gaia, lay a key to forging a different future, one where survival was not bought at the price of one's soul.