Lower Astral World. Roland is sitting in a chair in the middle of the room watching a wall of video monitors showing various scenes from Michael's life. Wires running from the monitors are attached to head gear that Roland is wearing. One of the monitors shows a scene in Roland's bedroom. Michael is standing at Roland's bedside handing him medication. Roland lays there as if the last rites are being performed.

"Stop practicing for death. It is not attractive," said Michael.

"I don't want to take you through this."

"We can't pretend this will go away. Two more pills. Then eat your food." He hands him a glass of water off the nightstand. Michael sits on the bed waiting for Roland to take the pills. "I can wait this out longer than you."

"I'm too weak," Roland said in a weak wispy theatrical voice.

"Take the pills or I'll spoon feed you," Michael said in a matronly tone.

"Sistah is enjoying this, seeing Mother defenseless."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to work my last good nerve."

Grunting, Roland zeroes in on another monitor at a moment when he is in the bathroom putting on ointment on Michael's hand. Michael had smashed his hand into the mirror. Roland had heard the sound and came running into the bathroom.

Roland. "You should have said something. My date isn't all that. My Sistah comes first."

"The voices started again. I got so mad at the way my face kept changing. All these different faces were imposing themselves on top of each other. Some insect, some demonic, some human, some reptilian, some I cannot describe. Even saw Tom's face. Saw Chet's face, saw Joseph's face and then, my father's face and that really freaked me out."

"I don't know why you're fighting this. Sistah is not human, get with the program. Since Mother is an earthly girl, one of us needs a direct line upstairs."

"What is reality if I let go of what I know," Michael said.

"If I had your power, I would drop a house on a few people." He wraps the hand. Broken pieces of the mirror are still on the counter; part of the mirror is still intact though cracked. Michael glances at his reflection that seems fractured. "Even the mirror in its current state is telling a truth. I need to put the voices back into One Voice."

"Sistah, I wish you accept the fact that you have a destiny. And if you don't fulfill it, a lot of us will be truly lost. I'll get my light after Mother is dead and gone so you need to get all the light you can to help the one's who will be lost."

"I'll not let you get lost."

"I hope not. But if I do, I know my Sistah will find me."

They hug.

Roland shifts his attention to another monitor where he is in the kitchen having a diva moment with Michael.

"You drove to the man's house to ask him why he didn't call. Is this a fatal attraction thing," Michael asked?

"I don't like to be on the short end of the deal. He was going to explain himself. Said he couldn't handle me because I was too sure of myself. He wanted the dick but not me. These men will learn this is a package deal."

"Well, you never have entered a room quietly."

"Next man I meet, better come like a soldier and be prepared for war."

Roland zooms in on another scene where is helping Michael carry his suitcases into the apartment. They are climbing a long flight of stairs. Michael is moving in.

"I can't believe after three years we are going to be roommates again," Michael said dragging the suitcase up the stairs, breathing hard while sweat is streaking down his face like liquid prison bars.

"If you had stayed with me, you would not have gone off the deep end," Roland said gathering his breath as he places the suitcase at the top of the stairs. He leans against the wall.

Michael doesn't notice how weak Roland's breathing is as he continues, "The voices said I was an Uthra. I had to learn the lessons of being human to help them. It's all so weird. Family wanted me committed. They couldn't accept the fact that I experienced a "dark night of the Soul."

"I always knew you were different. I don't know why it took you so long to figure this out. To bad you can't wear an X‑man costume."

Roland turns off several monitors as he sits quietly feeding himself off Michael's fears.

Madam Monkeyfoot holds a card and studies it for a moment, then lays the card down slowly as if searching for the right words to say. "A man that is close to you, his body is so cold as if he has died and doesn't know it is manipulating you. Yet, I see you feeding him your essence."

"Great another uninvited dinner guest," Michael said, his voice quavering, a chill courses through his spine.

"There are two roses. One rose is dark red, wilting and sits in a black cloud. It is attempting to consume the other rose in its black cloud. This is your roommate. The other rose is you. It is full of thorns surrounded by a gold cloud."

"What does this mean?"

"You must awaken your primordial powers."

"Damn, I'm still sleeping on the job."

Madam Monkeyfoot. "Pull a card from the deck."

Michael let's his hand pass over the spread, sensing the cards, waiting to see a vibration from a third eye perspective.

Excerpt from unpublished memoirs. I remember this one night after several days of psychic attacks as I walked through the city day and night with no sleep, I was laying on the steps of a church in New York. Found it interesting, as a child, the Reverend would say "The doors of the church are open." This was to welcome home the sinners. I don't think any church door would open for me now. By this time, I had taken the identity of Asar and the dead kept coming to me for light. Later I learned Asar is another name for Osiris.

Because so many of the dead were coming to me, I created a dimension where the dead could travel through me and I would take them through the 356 Heavens to return them to the higher worlds of light or help them to meet others who would guide them on their way. Didn't realize how much life force it was draining on me.

It was a New York chilly night. The street was deserted. I was lying on the steps of a church. In my mind I could hear the accusing finger of the preacher, "The failure is not in god, it's in you."

There was an entity from another dimension that interrupted my train of thoughts telepathically. His name was John Q. Lee. He promised me that he loved me and would be the Beloved I was seeking. All I needed to do was let go of my physical body, die and they would catch my consciousness and put it into another body they were preparing for me in their world.

The thought was monstrous; yet, it was intriguing. Then again, it seemed like I would be walking into another death, another life where I would have to mask myself and live out someone's expectation.

John Q. Lee promised he would take care of me. He would shelter me from the wrath of humans. I was one of these humans before I knew I was one of the Ancient Ones. I'm not your text book variety type but the one's whose name cannot be pronounced by humans.

The psychic attacks have taken their toll on my mind, my body, my spirit. I have separated myself in order that some part of me would survive as light. Maybe this is the reason I am dying. Maybe it is the reason John Q. Lee promises me another body. What parts of me will they take?

John Q. Lee's voice was gentle, like a gentle nudging from a breeze. But here I was stretched out on the steps of church, midnight madness clouds the sky, this particular street is empty. My life force is greatly depleted.

"You can live forever. Let us prepare a new body for you. Let go, and we will take you from that body into a new body. In our world, you will be a queen again," said John Q. Lee.

Replying to John Q. Lee, I said, "Today is a good day to be above ground."

I summoned what strength I could and began to walk. I thought maybe if I found a safe place to rest fro prying eyes. I saw an alley across the street and made my way there.

Cries were filtering in from all directions. Heart carried them along also. The limp in his leg was worse. A rain fell heavily about him. He is called Heart.

All he knew was this moment, walking through a park where visibility was barely possible. There were no stars in this twilight world. He knew it was an astral representation of his San Francisco. Sometimes in these places, you can turn a corner and be in another reality.

His neck hurt. He felt a deep cut that went across his neck. It was still bleeding. He had to find somewhere to rest, to recover from the attack. A soft rain began to fall. He wondered was it rain or his tears which tasted salty. Pain sliced through his leg. Words tried to cling to his mouth. Only growling sounds escaped from deep regions of his throat.

"Why me," he mumbled. "What madness is this," Heart said sinking to his knees. He heard a buzzing noise. Then he had a waking dream. It seemed like webbing was being pulled from his eyes. He saw a tree rooted to a floor with a face on it, he saw himself standing naked in a hotel room, he saw a man with long hair standing over him while he slept combing his hair over him, and then he saw himself making love with a Asian man with long dark hair and light emanating from both of them. None of this made sense.

Heart wanted his mother, the Uthra to come and comfort him, to rest in Its arms, feel Its heartbeat, swim again in the waters of the womb and know the Uthra would be a vessel to take him back to the world of Lights. He was lost and felt like an abandoned child.

The Adversary who ruled the universe would not let Uthra step through the doors. Instead the Adversary had sent one of its underlings to mother him and whose embrace was so cold. Even to remember the embrace of this dark mother frightened him still. She existed as a dimension he had been trapped in. He touched his neck, the pain was sharp, and the wound was deep and still bleeding.

He remembered the escape. "I was a prisoner of a dark goddess. This dark mother held me in her house against my will, shackled to the floor by chains woven by a dark spell. The dark mother was asleep when it happened.

A pillar of gold light appeared in front of me and a face appeared within it. The Face spoke. "You have been in exiled too long. I will break these chains."

"Who are you," I asked in a hoarse whisper? My throat was very dry.

"I am waiting to be born. Awaken the serpent fire." Light powered from the Face and shattered the walls. A sound came from the Face that shattered the chains. "Now run!"

I jumped from the chair.

"Run."

An invisible force pushed me through the door. I fell onto the porch. Sweat grew on my face. I touched the floor board and began chanting, "I go to the Father through the Christ and in his name…." I kept repeating it over and over again as I crawled through the yard. A hot piercing rain fell like needles upon me. Fear froze me for a few seconds. I crawled to a dirt road. A strength rose in me. I was able to stand, and start walking, I looked back.

The Face hovered on the porch.

"Remember the power of blood."

There was crackling sound, and fired poured through a rupture in the sky and took the form this dark goddess.

"Going somewhere," she said taunting me. She struck at me with a bolt of black fire. I dodge the bolt but twisted my leg and fell to the ground. She struck again this time striking me. I flew through the air and struck the hard ground. My body screamed with pain, my neck was bleeding. Felt like my head was almost dislocated from my body.

"No," the Face screamed shattering the dark goddess in hundreds of pieces but she recomposed herself quickly and became more enraged.

"I killed you once and I will do it again. This time Heart will not be reborn."

Face blew on me with such a strong force I was pushed against a glass door that shattered and fell into another dimension and the split closed them both off from me.

Now Heart had escaped but to whose hell was he in now, his own or someone's creation from his many lives. He felt the rush of wind pass over him, looking up he saw a large black birdlike shadow swoop down and grab him in its beak.