First Scripture Fragment

The First Fragment of the Scriptures — The Great Reset

This is the first fragment of ancient writings discovered that spoke of the event that struck Earth in the year 2030—the event that became known as The Great Reset.

The Great Reset

Suddenly, a blinding flash engulfed the sky. For a few moments, the entire planet was bathed in a light so intense it seemed as if the Sun itself had multiplied. The next morning, the world awoke under an unnatural luminosity: a continuous, white radiance that covered everything. The heat was suffocating, and it quickly became unbearable.

Within months, chaos had taken over. Entire regions became uninhabitable, forcing mass migrations in search of cooler, more stable places. The planet was not merely burning — it was reacting. A colossal magnetic impact distorted Earth’s fields and destroyed every form of technology. No device, no machine, no communication network survived. Humanity, powerless, reverted to its most primal instinct: survive with what remained.

Without electricity, without governments, without structure, the world plunged into an era of collapse. Entire peoples vanished. Cities became smoking ruins. And within a few years, civilization had surrendered to despair, awaiting only the inevitable end.

Then, the unexpected happened.

Across the globe — from cities to deserts, mountains to oceans — something colossal could be seen approaching Earth. A metallic structure of inconceivable proportions, larger than the planet itself, moved slowly through space, surrounding Earth until it formed an enormous ring, as if the planet now had its own Saturn-like belt.

For months, the structure remained motionless, suspended thousands of kilometers above the surface. No sound. No transmission. No explanation. Only its silent, oppressive presence, watching humanity agonize from afar. At first, people believed it heralded salvation — a divine sign, a promise of rescue. But as time passed, the glow of that hope dimmed beneath the struggle for daily survival.

Until, one day, the sky opened.

Gigantic metallic tubes descended suddenly, tearing through the clouds and falling upon cities, fields, and oceans. Each tube, upon touching the ground, opened a large circular door, revealing a bright, immaculate, technologically advanced interior — a non-terrestrial elevator.

From within these structures, a voice echoed, speaking in the local language of each region:

“We have come to rescue you. Enter the elevator and we will take you to Ordiman Colony.”

And in that moment, humanity understood that the true new beginning — or the true end — had finally arrived.

Arrival at Ordiman Colony

In the beginning, fear prevailed. People gazed upon the enormous metallic tubes with suspicion and terror. No one knew what they were, where they came from, or who had sent that message. But as the weeks passed, hope slowly began to overcome fear. Little by little, more people stepped inside.

Inside the tubes was a single massive elevator, pristine and illuminated by a soft, silent white light. When someone spoke a simple voice command — something like “take me to Ordiman” — the doors closed slowly, and the ascent began.

The journey lasted nearly a month. During this time, passengers saw Earth from afar for the first time. Below them, the planet shrank to a pale blue dot — and ahead rose the colossal metallic structure anchored in space. Now they knew its name: Ordiman Colony.

Upon approaching, they realized the structure was even larger than they had imagined. From the outside, its size defied all possibility. And upon entering it, that sensation multiplied. Ordiman was an unimaginable feat of engineering: a world-city, a living fortress, cold and silent.

Disembarkation led the newcomers onto a vast metallic road, nearly fifty kilometers wide, stretching beyond sight. The ground was made of dark, chilled metal that reflected the diffused light above. Before them, nothing but an empty horizon — and a single possible path: forward.

The journey along this road took nearly a week. No one knew where it led, what awaited at the end, or whether there would be a return. But something curious happened: no one felt hunger, thirst, or fatigue. No one fell ill. No one died. It was as if the human body had been suspended between time and necessity.

When they finally reached the end of that road, the impossible occurred. People passed through one last metallic gateway and, on the other side, found a familiar world: blue skies, seas, mountains, forests, and cities. Everything was identical to Earth. Joy swept through them — they believed they had been brought to a new home, a perfect replica of their lost world.

Ordiman Colony was, indeed, a reflection of Earth — an almost exact mirror, as if someone had recreated the planet in every detail, preserving every form of life, every landscape, every trace of civilization. The air was pure, the climate balanced, and the sense of normality comforting. People settled, rebuilt their lives, and believed the nightmare had finally ended.

But perfection did not last.

Over the years, strange reports began to spread. Travelers and explorers claimed to have seen unknown creatures wandering through the forests — misshapen figures watching from a distance, disappearing at the slightest movement. At first, these were dismissed as rumors or frightened imaginings. But as the years passed, the sightings multiplied.

Ten years after their arrival, there were already records of attacks, disappearances, and terrifying encounters across the Colony. Fifty years later, these entities were part of daily reality. They were everywhere — hidden in forests, caves, ruins, and even at the edges of human cities.

Their shapes and behaviors varied as much as their intentions. Some were harmless and curious; others were silent hunters, hostile and driven by an unknowable force. With time, humanity learned to coexist with them. The absurd became normal.

People began to see these creatures as part of the ecosystem — dangerous like tigers and crocodiles, or gentle like horses and deer. Slowly, the creatures became woven into the everyday fabric of Ordiman Colony.

The Forgetting of Earth

Across the eras, the truth dissolved like dust in the wind. Time erased all memory of what had truly happened. Later generations knew less and less of the Great Reset, and old Earth became a myth. In schools, children were taught that humanity’s home had always been Ordiman — the new world, the new beginning, the new story. The past faded into the fog of oblivion.

The elders still remembered fragments of a distant time — tales told by their grandparents about a flash in the sky, unbearable heat, and a simpler life before the light. But these memories sounded like ancient legends, echoes of a time no longer real. Humanity lived on in Ordiman, believing it walked the same path as always, unaware it had strayed into an entirely new destiny.

Then, something began to happen.

At first, sporadically. A man claimed he had seen a luminous presence inside his home. Days later, a woman reported the same. Within weeks, similar manifestations occurred across the world. Mysterious beings, made of light and silence, began appearing in homes and villages across Ordiman.

People hid in terror, believing these beings to be another new species — common enough on that strange world. Some tried to attack or repel them, but nothing seemed to touch them.

Eventually, these beings began to show intention. They did not attack, did not react — they simply remained, trying to communicate. Gradually, some people realized they could hear them. Not with their ears — but with the mind. They needed to focus, to attune to the emanating light, until they could match their frequency. When that happened, the words appeared directly in their consciousness — thoughts that were not their own.

And thus, the truth was finally revealed.

The luminous beings explained that the Great Flash had not been a random event. It was a colossal solar storm, an eruption so devastating that it extinguished all life on Earth within seconds. No human survived. No animal. No plant. The planet was reduced to ash — its cities silent ruins, its surface a dead desert.

What remained of humanity no longer existed in the physical plane. When the solar wave struck, billions of human spirits detached from their bodies at once, unaware of what had occurred. Their confused consciousnesses drifted into a deep sleep in the Universal Mental Plane — the Psicosphere — a cosmic layer where all dimensions are interconnected through mind.

During this transition, a horde of low-vibration entities from the lower regions of the spiritual plane detected the mass of newly disembodied spirits and captured them. They created a collective mental prison. The intense light and unbearable heat humans believed they were experiencing physically were actually mental projections — low-frequency holograms crafted within this energetic prison.

For nearly five years, the spirits remained trapped in a collective delirium, immersed in a synthetic nightmare projected by low-vibration holograms. They believed they were alive, witnessing a collapsing planet, when in truth they were being harvested by unseen forces.

These same entities then presented themselves as saviors. They convinced the human minds to enter a massive structure — a colony created inside the Psicosphere — where they could “restart.”
That structure was Ordiman.

Ordiman Colony was not a physical planet but a collective mental simulation — a holographic ecosystem sustained by billions of imprisoned consciousnesses connected to psychic energy generators. Within this reality, human spirits experienced everything as if it were physical: feeling, thinking, interacting, loving, fearing. But all of it unfolded only in the mental plane — an illusion carefully maintained.

Each spirit functioned as an energy node, generating emotion and awareness, with fear being the central fuel. The entities of the lower Psicospheric layers fed on these dense energies, using them as power and raw material for their experiments. An entire planet of minds vibrating in unison — producing fear, anguish, and despair — formed a living power plant of dark energy, a spiritual reactor that kept Ordiman Colony functioning.

Thus, humanity discovered its final fate: not on a new planet, but inside a cosmic-scale mental prison, built to convert human fear into fuel.

The Awakening of Consciousness

After centuries of entrapment within the illusionary cycle of Ordiman Colony, something began to shift in the subtler layers of the Psicosphere. A new type of presence — pure, luminous, serene — began manifesting in the collective mental plane. These were spirits from the higher layers, beings of radiant wisdom, connected directly to the Creative Source.

These benevolent entities had finally discovered humanity’s prison. Guided by compassion and cosmic duty, they began establishing contact with the human spirits trapped within Ordiman — those who believed they were living on a physical planet.

Between the years 2530 and 3030, these Beings of Light played a crucial role in rescuing awakened minds. They communicated through the deep mental plane, transmitting vibrational impulses and symbolic imagery comprehensible only to minds in expanded states. Few perceived the message — fewer still understood it. But for those who did, the revelation was overwhelming: Ordiman was not real.

The Beings explained that everything humans perceived — the sky, cities, forests, and even their own bodies — was a collective mental construction. A continuous dream supported by billions of minds trapped in a web of dense vibrations. The only way out was to elevate one’s mental frequency, learning to create vibrational waves capable of piercing the lower Psicospheric layers.

Through meditation, focus, and expanded awareness, a small number began to sense the illusion breaking. First in brief flashes — a distorted sky, a pulsating wall, a face dissolving into light. With time and practice, some reached a vibrational state so elevated that their consciousness was pulled into higher realms of the mental plane, freeing them from Ordiman.

These rescues became known as The Elevations. And each liberated soul left behind a trail of energy — a vibrant echo that inspired others to seek the same path.

For generations, the Beings of Light continued quietly guiding imprisoned humans. Their teachings seeped into dreams, symbols, ancient texts, and forgotten murmurs — always nudging the sensitive and the restless to remember that reality is mental, and true awakening begins within.

Still, only about 1% of the population managed to escape the simulation. The vast majority continued living normally in Ordiman, convinced they inhabited a physical world, unaware of the truth.

But some — few, rare, awakened — know.
They sense something different in the cracks of reality.
They have heard the call.

Regarding the Great Reset and the Events Afterward

The year was 2030.
And suddenly, the sky burst into light.

It lasted only a moment, but it was absolute — a single second in which the entire Earth seemed to be pierced by a surge of cosmic radiance.
The population, stunned, lifted their eyes and witnessed the impossible:
the firmament had multiplied its stars.
Distant constellations, once invisible, now shone with a vivid, almost tangible brilliance.
The universe seemed to have moved closer to Earth.

But with the beauty came the horror.
The air turned to fire.

The planet, wrapped in constant light, became a furnace.
The heat was unbearable.
Shadows vanished, and the days felt endless.
Entire cities collapsed.
Crops withered.
The oceans evaporated into hot mists that covered the horizon.

Humanity descended into chaos and despair.

Governments fell, religions crumbled, and the meaning of time dissolved.
Each month, a new continent became uninhabitable.
Whole regions transformed into bright, silent deserts where even the wind refused to pass.
Civilization — once built on technology and control — crawled back to barbarism,
a new Stone Age born under an eternal sun.

These abominable times dragged on for five long years.
Five years in which humanity clung to life only by instinct, waiting for the final collapse.
The last communities lived in caves or underground ruins, fleeing a world that no longer belonged to them.
Earth had become a prison of light and heat.

And then — something appeared in the sky.

On the burning horizon, a colossal structure materialized.
It floated in silence, immense, metallic, perfectly symmetrical.
It was so vast that it seemed to exceed the very curvature of the planet —
a monumental ring, like Saturn’s, slowly orbiting the Earth.

For six months it remained there, unmoving, simply observing.
The last functioning cameras transmitted distant images of the structure, recording its nearly imperceptible shifts.
Until one day, the tubes descended.

Enormous metallic conduits, of unimaginable length, broke through the atmosphere and anchored into the ground with an impact that shook the world.
There were hundreds of them, spread across every continent — vertical towers disappearing into the sky.
At their bases, massive doors opened.
From within, a bluish light pulsed — cold, hypnotic.

And then, the voice.

It resonated inside every mind, in every language, with a tone gentle and implacable:

“We have come to help.
We have come to save.
Enter.
Follow the light.”

The message repeated endlessly, with subtle variations, promising shelter, healing, and redemption.
It claimed there was a safe place, that everything would be rebuilt, that humanity would be preserved.

And so, one by one, the survivors entered.

At first out of desperation.
Then out of hope.
Until no one remained outside.

Inside the tubes, the environment was metallic, immaculate, silent.
Upon crossing the threshold, the heat vanished.
The air became cold and pure.
The floor vibrated underfoot, as if something alive moved within the structure.

Then, the ascent began.

Those who entered were lifted at a vertiginous speed, in a continuous motion that seemed endless — a colossal elevator rising through the atmosphere, passing layers of light and darkness until leaving the planet entirely.

When the journey ended, the destination revealed itself:
the interior of the enormous structure — the Ordiman.

An impossible architecture: alive, pulsating, sustained by columns vanishing into infinity.
Curved corridors, translucent surfaces, distant sounds like chants resonating through the metal.
Time seemed to slow there, and gravity wavered, as though reality itself were being recalibrated.

The newcomers were guided through long passages toward a portal of white light.
And upon crossing it… they saw the unthinkable.

A world.
A replica of Earth.

Forests, oceans, mountains, cities — all recreated in perfect scale.
A new planet inside Ordiman.
A vast, fertile, silent territory where the sky was a deep blue and the air no longer burned.

Those who arrived believed they were saved.
But no one knew who had built it.
No one knew what Ordiman truly was.

And deep in the human heart, a persistent doubt remained —
what if this was not a refuge,
but an experiment?

What if humanity had not been saved,
but transferred?

And as the new world flourished inside the colossal ring,
outside, the old planet burned —
transformed into a dead sun,
a perfect symbol of what humanity had become.

Little by little, Earth was abandoned.
One by one, the survivors crossed the doors of the colossal metallic tubes and were swallowed by the cold silence of Ordiman.
And there, before the impossible, they found what seemed like a miracle:
a new world.

An entire planet awaited them — fertile, bright, balanced.
Cities sprouted from the ground as if they had always been there.
Rivers flowed serenely, forests whispered ancient melodies, and the sky was vast and perfect.
Everything was ready.
As if someone, somewhere, had prepared a new beginning for humanity.

For the first years, adaptation was slow but peaceful.
Fear had been left behind on Earth, and hope — briefly — blossomed.
But soon they realized they were not alone.

Creatures — of all shapes, colors, and natures — inhabited the new Earth.
Some resembled animals, others appeared as shadows with their own consciousness, and some were mere distortions in the air, like mirages that watched.
Most were hostile, aggressive, unpredictable.
The first encounters were marked by terror and blood.
Yet humanity survived.
It built walls, founded villages, learned to coexist with fear.

Decades passed.
Centuries accumulated.
And five hundred years after the so-called Great Reset, humans no longer remembered who they once were.
Ancient stories turned into legends, and the original Earth became myth — a distant rumor about a “previous world” consumed by fire and light.

Then something new began to happen.

On windless nights, beings of pure energy emerged on the horizon.
They were made of pulsating light — sometimes golden, sometimes silver — radiating a presence not of this world.
They did not speak, but attempted communication through vibrations, through faint sounds that echoed inside the mind.
Some called them angels, others heat-born illusions, others manifestations of collective madness.

But something about them was undeniable:
they seemed to be trying to help.

For generations, these luminous beings appeared and vanished, hovering over mountains, cities, and ruins.
Until one day, someone finally heard them.

It happened to a solitary man living near the misty forests of the northern hemisphere of the new Earth.
He claimed he had “heard the light.”
And what that light revealed changed everything.

According to him, the being communicated a devastating truth:

“You are not alive.”

The man insisted, confused.
And the entity replied with inhuman patience, using mental images and vibrations:

“Humanity died.
You perished in the flash of 2030, when the heat consumed the planet.
What inhabits this simulation are not bodies — but trapped consciousnesses, spirits torn from the natural cycle, collected by an Underworld Colony called Ordiman.
This world you inhabit is a mental prison, built to deceive the soul and keep it captive.”

The man struggled to understand.
How could he exist if he was dead?
The entity answered:

“Physical death does not end consciousness.
It only changes the field in which you exist.
Ordiman captured you through the vibration of fear and now feeds on the dense energy you produce.
This world is a simulation of suffering.”

The man shared the message.
He was ridiculed, hunted, and eventually killed.

But over the decades, others began to hear.
Some during sleep, others in trance, others after long periods of isolation and despair.
Few kept their sanity after contact.
And these few gathered in secret, far from the cities, far from the eyes of a society that refused to believe.

Thus, the Secret Orders were born.

Small groups that preserved forbidden knowledge — the truth about Ordiman and the fate of humanity.
They knew time did not advance naturally, that reality could distort from one day to the next, and that “rebirth” was nothing more than reloading consciousness within the simulation.

Those who died here were reborn here.
The same spirits, the same souls.
Always the same, since 2030.

The cycle repeated eternally, while abyssal creatures observed and fed on the dense energy produced by fear, suffering, and despair.
Ordiman was a laboratory of pain.
A spiritual control experiment.

And those who dared to remember —
those who awakened —
were hunted, silenced, erased from collective memory.

But the lights kept appearing.
Closer each time.
Brighter each time.

And now, some believe something is about to happen.
That perhaps, for the first time in centuries,
humanity is close to understanding it never left hell.

Knowledge, once awakened, could no longer be erased.
Those who understood the nature of the simulation began to record what they knew — carving words and symbols into stone, metal, and shards of light.
These records multiplied across generations of imprisoned consciousness until finally the first book of knowledge emerged.

They called it The Book of Cosma.

It was said its content had been dictated by the very beings of light — those who came from higher layers of existence and, at times, managed to pierce the veil of Ordiman to instruct the captives.
The Book of Cosma described, in codes and metaphors, the nature of the prison, the mechanics of the simulation, and the secret to escaping it:
Mental Projection.

As centuries passed, other volumes surfaced — fragments of accumulated wisdom, treatises on vibration, consciousness, and sacred geometry.
But all originated from a single principle:
liberation was only possible through the mind.

Slowly, the doctrine of awakening began to flourish among the imprisoned.
Spirits attempted.
Trained.
Tried to break the cycle.

A few — extremely few — succeeded.

Those who achieved Mental Projection awoke outside the simulation, emerging into the true Ordiman.
And there… they discovered the real horror.

The true Ordiman was not the metallic paradise glimpsed within visions.
It was a colossal, living structure of inconceivable scale — thousands of times larger than Earth.
A labyrinth of endless corridors, cyclopean halls, and dark voids echoing like the lungs of a sleeping entity.

A spirit who reached that place found itself lost in an oppressive vastness, where time dissolved and space curled upon itself.
The metal walls pulsed like breathing flesh, and distant, rumbling sounds suggested the presence of something enormous — asleep, or watching.

There, the beings of light could not help.
Mental communication ceased completely.
The vibrational plane of the true Ordiman was too dense, obscured by layers of negative energy accumulated over centuries.
The spirit was alone.

And if it wished to escape, only one path remained:
Spiritual Projection.

Mentioned only in the darkest fragments of the Book of Cosma, it was described as total transmutation — a complete shift in the soul’s vibration, capable of expelling it from the dimensional layer in which Ordiman existed.

But almost no one succeeded.
Most who attempted became lost in the labyrinth, turning into wandering echoes — bodiless voices, empty presences calling for help, trapped between realities.

Centuries passed.
Time inside and outside the simulation followed different, distorted rhythms.
And then the human calendar — obsolete but preserved in memory — reached something around the year 3030.

It was then that higher-layer entities — beings of pure consciousness, beyond space and time — developed a new way to make contact.
No longer able to descend into lower planes, they discovered they could send messages through electrons, encoding vibrations into quantum energy patterns.

These messages traveled to the past.

They were absorbed by antennas, circuits, particles, electrical impulses — manifestations humans once interpreted as anomalies.
Some infiltrated communication systems, radios, satellites, confusing scientists and cryptographers trying to decode the seemingly random data.
Others appeared in dreams, mental flashes, or altered states of consciousness experienced by people who had no idea what they were receiving.

But no one suspected these messages were instructions.
Warnings from beings who had escaped, trying to alert the past about what was coming.

Codes, sounds, electrical patterns —
everything humans called noise, interference, or coincidence —
were echoes of the future.

And thus the messages of Ordiman began to reach Earth, long before the flash of 2030.
Messages about imprisonment, repetition, an eternal cycle of pain and rebirth.
Messages understood by few…
but destined to change the course of humanity.