Before Faromet became an idea,
before he became a symbol,
before the Eclipse Order bowed—
He was just a man who refused to accept chaos.
Mohamed felt the convergence take him gently this time, like being lowered into deep water rather than thrown. There was no pressure, no warning pain. Only a slow descent into a memory that resisted judgment.
They stood in a ruined city.
Not ancient.
Not modern.
A transition era.
Buildings half-glass, half-stone. Screens flickering beside handwritten signs. Technology advancing faster than ethics. Nations dissolving while corporations rose in their place.
"This is recent," Mohamed whispered.
Selene nodded. "Too recent. This convergence is dangerous because it explains everything."
The man sat alone in a small apartment.
No symbols.
No robes.
Just books. Notes. Equations scrawled on walls. Religious texts stacked beside scientific journals. Philosophy bleeding into mathematics.
His name was Elior.
He had not slept in days.
On the screen in front of him: news feeds.
Wars framed as liberation.
Lies dressed as hope.
Truth buried under engagement metrics.
Elior pressed his fingers against his temples.
"Too many narratives," he muttered. "No coherence."
A knock at the door.
A woman entered.
She looked tired. Real. Human.
"You can't keep doing this," she said softly. "You're trying to solve everything."
Elior didn't look up. "Someone has to."
She knelt beside him. "People don't want truth. They want comfort."
He finally met her eyes.
"And that," he said quietly, "is how civilizations die."
The memory shifted.
Elior in conferences.
In think tanks.
In councils no one voted for.
He spoke of synthesis.
Of unifying belief systems.
Of creating a framework where truth couldn't be manipulated by power.
They applauded him.
Then they ignored him.
"You're asking people to give up certainty," one official said.
"That's not realistic," said another.
"Truth is negotiable," a third smiled.
Elior stopped smiling.
The first experiment.
A closed group.
Scientists. Theologians. Philosophers.
They were brilliant.
They tore each other apart.
Not physically.
Ideologically.
Egos clashed. Dogmas hardened. The smartest voices screamed the loudest.
Elior watched it collapse.
His hands shook.
"They can't regulate themselves," he whispered. "They need structure."
That was the moment.
The pivot.
Selene's voice reached Mohamed faintly. "This is where most stories lie."
Mohamed watched as Elior rewrote his models.
Truth became layered.
Access became conditional.
Understanding became something you earned.
And if you couldn't earn it—
It was withheld.
"Not punishment," Elior said aloud. "Protection."
The first Eclipse prototype formed.
Not an order.
A filter.
The woman returned.
"You're building a hierarchy," she said.
"I'm building a firewall," Elior replied.
"Against who?"
He hesitated.
"…Humanity."
She stared at him. "You don't get to decide that."
He looked at her, eyes hollow.
"Someone already is," he said. "I'm just being honest about it."
She left.
She never came back.
The memory accelerated.
Followers gathered.
Symbols refined.
Sacrifice introduced—not as cruelty, but as calculus.
"How many must suffer to prevent extinction?" Elior asked.
No one answered.
So he did.
That was when he stopped using his name.
Names were emotional.
He became Faromet.
Mohamed felt anger surge.
"You chose control over trust," he said.
Faromet stood before him now—not as a god, not as a demon—but as a man who had not slept in decades.
"I chose survival over delusion," Faromet replied calmly.
"You killed innocence."
"I prevented collapse."
"You broke humanity."
Faromet's eyes hardened.
"Humanity was already broken. I just removed the illusion."
For the first time—
Mohamed saw doubt.
Tiny. Buried.
But real.
"You never solved ego," Mohamed said quietly. "You surrendered to it."
Faromet looked away.
Just for a second.
"This convergence ends here," he said.
The memory shattered.
They returned.
Mohamed collapsed, breath shaking.
Selene knelt beside him.
"He wasn't born a monster," Mohamed said. "He was abandoned by responsibility."
Selene nodded. "That's how the worst systems begin."
Mohamed stood slowly.
"Then I won't defeat him by force," he said.
Selene looked up. "How then?"
Mohamed's eyes were steady.
"I'll finish what he was too afraid to complete."
Somewhere—
Faromet felt something unfamiliar.
Fear.