That night, at 1:00 a.m. in the morning, according to Paul’s notes for December 16, 2017, he had spent the most sensuous night of his life in bed with Akira, making passionate love, when he awoke with a psychedelic flashback. That was not the correct term, Paul knew, for the nanites were not psychedelic drugs, but it was the only experience he could compare it to. Regardless of what he should call it, he awoke with a bolt of terror, which slowly transformed itself into a feeling of rapturous Love with a capital L. It was a feeling of warmth and unusual sensations that went beyond his sexual encounters with his soon to be wife. He felt a glow in his heart he had never before experienced, and wondered at its absolute magnificence. He felt as if he were being cradled in the hands of God himself. He threw off his blanket and saw his body swelling and contorting as if forces within him were about to break through to the outside and reveal the truth of the entire Universe. He wept in the feeling of Love that encompassed him. He had never before felt so unconditional acceptance of his presence and being. His arm briefly shriveled and changed color to a golden tan, shrinking, pulling back in length as if he were no longer a 6’4” pale skinned Irishman, but a 5’4” golden hued Egyptian. Suddenly, he saw his feet shrink and change from a pink-skinned, no melatonin afraid-of-the-sun Gaelic into a brown, sunburned man of desert. His skull ached, and as he touched it, he felt the bones of his skull, especially his jaw and those above his eyebrows reassembling beneath his skin, almost as if he were reverting to a Neanderthal, but, deep inside him, without seeing himself, he knew the change could not be that drastic. He knew he could not be regressing that far back. He knew he was once again reassembling into Christ. But he knew not how. He experienced several shocks at the base of his skull, and he knew that his face, if he looked into the mirror, would be unrecognizable as the Paul he knew. He felt his chest shrink in size, decompress from his years of weightlifting and bodybuilding, so it no longer felt massive, heavy and muscular…it felt trim and lightweight, as if his entire life had been spent walking, jogging or hiking, with no bulk. All the while this was going on, he was laying rigidly on his back, completely naked, completely awake, and completely conscious of Akira lying naked beside him as he prayed not to disturb her slumber. As he stared at his body transmogrifying into Christ, he knew he was awake. The images were eidetic and conveyed more a sense of reality than he had ever experienced.
Akira began to become roused by Paul’s initial commotion and the moaning she heard from the initial the ecstasy he was feeling, and drowsily asked if he was all right. He answered yes, of course, not wanting to worry her. By great effort, during this incredible transformation of his physical form, he got off the bed and immediately fell to his knees; not out of fear or out of pain or out of weakness, but because he felt an overwhelming pray and give thanks for the Love he felt.
“Hishtahawa… Histahawa…Hishtawa,” he began chanting, neither recognizing the words nor knowing where they came from.
A moment later, Paul was able to stand once again and made his way into the bathroom, where he immediately closed the door, turned on the light and examined himself in the full-length mirror. Others had told him he had turned into the image of Christ, but he never believed it. Although he had seen his image on social media, that image was unclear and unconvincing. He was now hoping he could witness this “miracle” himself. All the while, his body continued to rumble, crack and buckle, and all he saw reflected in the glaring yellow light of the full length mirror was a series of separate, indistinctive evolutionary images of himself, flickering one after another in the mirror, none of these images lasting more than a second. The images were mostly Egyptian, Iranian, Syrian or otherwise desert dwelling men: tanned, short, and rather puggish looking. One flashing image Paul saw resembled what he thought was a Lemur, delicately fingered, perched in a tree, clutching a branch and staring out the soft, delicate and enormous soft, watery eyes.
That image didn’t fit.
The entire experience lasted just a few minutes, but to Paul it was a lifetime of wonder: then it was over. He stood in the bathroom staring at his tall, pinkish body, frozen in time and space but oddly exhilarated and thrilled as if he had just made the discovery of a lifetime. Akira had gotten out of bed. She called at him through the bathroom door. “Paul? What are you doing? Are you okay? Come back to bed. I need you.”
“I’ll be right there. I’m fine,” he reassured her. Women seemed to always need comfort and reassurance, he sighed to himself. He emerged from the bathroom and headed for his desk. “I need to make a few notes before going back to sleep,” he said, turning he light back on.”