And if it’s true, that cycle, that immortal soul in all its forms passing through time, what does the future hold for her? The temperatures are already rising, the oceans acidifying, the atmosphere clogged with chemicals and debris. What would 2070 hold? 2140? Will technology keep advancing or will it one day crumble, so at some point she’ll come full circle to clay tablets again? Will any remnants of mythology and religion remain in such desolation, or will she feel even crazier for the voices in her head? Someday the oceans will dry up, the farm lands wither, the forests burn down to char. Someday blood will wet the parched soil more often than rain. Who could find spiritual shelter in such a dead place? Though maybe that’s the point – to have someone there at the end of things, for Ragnarok, for Armageddon, for the time when neither Sun nor Moon can rise again. But what a burden that will be.