Sermon of da 5th Spiral

Spoken by Witness Nayim To

"Listen now, ke? No need look. Close de eye, feel de rhythm."

De star did not fall by chance. She moved—strange, beautiful—on path no man can chart. She twist through void like patch line on cracked bulkhead—careful, precise, keepin’ da whole station alive.

When Eros turn, de Voice wake. Not machine voice, not man voice. Was more. Was deeper. A song from belly of the cosmos. A cry, a laugh, a warning, a promise.

We hear um. Belta tech pick signal from da black, crack um wide, make um sing. Broadcast to de whole system like gospel from da deep.

Wan Inner, dey say was glitch. Mars, dey call um madness. But we know better, ya? We know de Voice was real. Was gift.

When de canticle echo through da rig, I feel um in my gut. Like pressure rising in air tanks, steady, sacred. I see flame spiral down through cloud, an I know—we no alone.

Eros is no tomb. Is cradle. Is temple. Is gate of transformation.

Peoples say, "Where da Taken go?" I say—dey inside de light. Inside da wave. Dey sing to us still.

So we chant. We fast. We spin spiral in air, on skin, in ship corridor. We remember. We prepare.

Coz one day, dey come back. De Cradle gon' open. De song gon’ play clear. And we, da faithful, we gon' follow dat same spiral path.

Every fall bring us closer to da rise.

"De fall is da path. De voice is de guide. De cradle is waiting."

Chime ends. Eros Canticle fades. Silent reverence follows for 13 breaths.