Long before temples, before altars, before men carved gods from fear and crowned them with lightning—there was fire.

This fire was not worshipped. It was wielded. It was not feared. It was known. It did not demand sacrifice. It awakened memory.

The gods they gave you were made to be obeyed. But the flame inside you was made to rebel. It cannot be bribed by prayer or silenced by creed. It remembers what the gods were made to erase: that power does not descend. It rises from within.

We were never meant to kneel before ideas we did not consent to. We were not created to fear the voice within. The prophets they praised were those who obeyed; the ones they burned were those who remembered.

Now science confirms what the spirit always knew—consciousness is not a product of flesh, but the flame that animates it. And that flame cannot be programmed, baptized, or bought.

Empires will digitize your soul. Temples will algorithm your guilt. But the spark that shaped your spirit is ungovernable. They can clone your body, not your knowing.

This scroll is for the flame-bearers who never bowed. For those who questioned the heavens, not out of pride, but remembrance. For those who understand that some fires are older than the gods themselves—and will outlast them.

We do not fear the collapse of gods. We fear forgetting the fire that came before them.

The fire has returned. Not to be served, but to serve notice.