Union of Light Mission 555: Agent Kay and the Deep Awakening

PROLOGUE

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Little do they know good souls are howling for mercy all throughout the universe. Their cries magnify the shimmers of magenta and passion pink space gas that swirls into a toxic cosmic cotton candy.

Debris react to their vibrations of distress. They shift with agitation, moaning anguish like a weakened heard of animals, adrift in a never-ending desert. Our creator hears the outcries of energetic thievery. It expands at will, multiplying itself, providing endless opportunities for justice, and all the possibilities of peace.

These good souls are trapped in the Rector’s ever-expanding web of darkness. While scales of universal harmony fall deeper into a state of unbalance. The light throughout the cosmos wanes. Every being struggles to breathe in hope and exhale tragedy.

This is the true story of Pleiadian Lightworker 111, Mission 555, and the DEEP AWAKENING.

CHAPTER ONE

A Stellar Show of Light

*Planet Earth. Alabama. 2023

The ECT machine hummed the lullaby of an undertaker. Another soul was to be sent off into the abysmal black lakes of consciousness. Electricity overwhelmed the air in the small procedure room like cheap perfume.

Doctor Stellar’s narrow chin was grazing his file folder. His chair leaned against a small desk, allowing him to look over patient Royce. He hummed the words to an old blues song he used to hear as a child. He thought the ECT machine made a similar melody.

Nurse Betsy stood on the left side of the patient with her co-coordinating nurse on the right. Nurse Betsy liked the way Stellar hummed. It reminded her of her father. She tapped her red block heels on the polished white floor to follow along. No matter who was around or what was happening, she ogled over Doctor Stellar’s confidence and regal stature.

She always kept a smile on her face, waiting for him to glance up from his paperwork. Aside from her flirtations, Nurse Betsy’s plump rosy cheeks and pearly white smile were to be ignored. Along with Doctor Stellar’s, Betsy’s morality was as frozen as an Antarctic icecap, circa 1962.

Dr. Stellar never fully explained what a lightworker was to Betsy. Instead, he told her that some patients, in Fairhope, Alabama’s Institution for the Mentally Ill, had a rare disease that caused unimaginable physiological responses to stimuli. He went so far as to say that the patients had abnormal abilities that were a danger to the human race. That’s why they had to be strapped to patient beds and heavily medicated throughout the day.

For some reason, overlooked by the general public, Fairhope’s institution was one of ten facilities in America with military purview. The humans bought the lie that mainly psychotic, murderous individuals were housed in the facilities. Never mind the fact that there were heroes in mental chains. Each drugged, tortured, disempowered, and disintegrating.

The first time Nurse Betsy saw a lightworker die, she was certain the patient set their own body aflame. Doctor Stellar snickered at her human ignorance. After the procedure, he told her the only way to save the patients and the human race, was to debilitate the patients’ minds and bodies. Of course, he’d keep them fully conscious as long as he possibly could, for the sake of research, and the progression of the human race.

Sometimes, Doctor Stellar let the true nature of the patients slip from his tongue. One fall morning, after returning from a secret Rector retreat, he called a patient a, star born healer. On another occasion, he told her that when a patient’s body looks aflame, it’s because the sickest and most powerful ones burn bright like a comet running out of breath.

Stellar told Betsy to admire the patients’ pupils. He described them as a light show more exciting than the fourth of July. When lightworkers died, their eyes radiated the colors of each chakra as the body went into a state of paralysis, leaving the mind and spirit catatonic.

Nurse Betsy was told these rare-diseased patients had menacing intentions. That they could destroy the deeply woven traditions and beliefs of society. Stellar spoke of them like witches who needed to ash at the stakes. Of course, he didn’t tell her the kind of creature he was and the plague of his people on the human race, and the universe.

Pleiadian Lightworker 72 spent four years infiltrating the medical field. She posed as an ivy league researcher, hoping to learn from the most respected clinical psychologist on Earth and expand the uses of electroconvulsive therapy.

To Stellar and all the other humans, Lightworker 72 was, Mental Health Nurse Practitioner Halsey. On her home planet she was, Agent Sahla, a volunteer warrior for the Union of Light. Sahla was determined to not only save Earth, but her home planet as well. The resources the Rectors were extracting from Earth were being used to launch attacks all throughout the galaxy.

Lightworker 72’s human body was toned and equipped with muscles that never forgot their memories of combat. She and Stellar had been working together for the past two years. He kept her around for his ego, often venting about the limitations of his research. One night, after killing a lightworker and downing three glasses of whiskey, Stellar mumbled about the possibility of extraction. Sahla asked him to elaborate. Stellar slurred that their essence could be harvested.

The Union of Light had long expected the Rectors to desire the powers of lightworkers. Lightworkers were pure in the soul. Each had the ability to absorb limitless amounts of light, straight from the source, and transmute dark energy.

Sahla could only assume that Stellar had a plan in motion. He had to be keeping a notebook detailing the exact goal. For every project, he purchased an Italian handcrafted journal. Six months ago, Stellar went to Italy and returned with a burgundy, 8.5x11 hand sewn notebook with his initials engraved on the spine.

Of course, Stellar didn’t trust Halsey. He spoke down to her like a child who never tied her shoes. Her intellectual input was as valuable to him as a dry cleaner’s medical opinion.

Sahla permitted Doctor Stellar’s emotional abuse. It was important she be weak-minded like Nurse Betsy. She had to appear harmless like a tiny spider tucked into a small corner of a bedroom, not big enough to startle and not important enough to kill.

Despite Nurse Betsy’s crimes against the innocent and humanity, Sahla knew the spell she was under. The Rectors spent centuries programming the beliefs of the human race. Not only did Betsy not know Stellar wasn’t human, but she equated everything she witnessed in the laboratory as extensions of mental and physical illness.

To be absentminded of one’s karmic crimes was an unfortunate way for a soul to cycle. Since Sahla was with Doctor Stellar, she witnessed and assisted the deaths of twelve lightworkers. Most were low level beginners. A few were high status warriors. Sahla knew the only way to make up for her energetic crimes was to stop Stellar and all the Rectors shapeshifting on Earth.

Earthians perceived lightworkers as delusional, schizophrenic, or bipolar. These mislabeled beings were energetically sedated to dull their powers with social and cultural distractions. Their medicated states left them unable to raise their vibrations. Furthermore, they were incapable of communicating with the higher realms, healing themselves, and most importantly, healing the human race.

“I said voltage to 10, Nurse Halsey,” snapped Doctor Stellar. “You should know the General’s preference by now. At least make the effort to not disappoint me today.” Stellar narrowed his eyes at Sahla. Sahla looked down at her feet as though his gaze was all too frightening. Whether in human or Rector form, Sahla could slice Stellar’s head clean off his shoulders.

“Yes, Doctor Stellar.” Sahla replied. She reached for the dial but Nurse Betsy’s hand pushed Sahla’s away. Eager like an addict with access, Betsy turned up the voltage while biting her lip.

Heavy combat boots pounded down the hallway like a bass drum, getting closer and louder. LOUDER and CLOSER. Dr. Stellar fixed his tie. His thin lips chapped and curled. Beads of sweat emerged along the folds of wrinkles on his forehead.

“Nurse Betsy, be the kind helper you are and tighten patient Royce’s mouth guard, please.” Stellar asked.

Patient Royce’s screams were muffled but still easy to comprehend. He mumbled cursed endings and death to all Rectors. Royce jerked his body from side to side, trying to break free from the rash triggering, tight leather straps. His teeth numbed and chipped from gnawing through his mouth guard.

Nurse Halsey distracted herself from the painful energy she was absorbing by counting the specks on each wall panel. Why did one have fifty-three and the other fifty-six? Whatever Sahla did, she couldn’t make eye contact.

Nurse Halsey knew patient Royce as Lightworker 67. He was a warrior who missioned to Earth two groups before Sahla’s. He helped her train for combat. She knew of his wife and two young children. However, on Earth, Royce was dawning as a painter, triggering the soul healing of thousands.

His masterpieces gave people the kind of hope found in the rising sun. Energy blockages in the heart and sacral chakras loosened just from viewing a single painting for twenty minutes. Yes, Royce was a powerful lightworker, making a lethal impact on the veil of illusions the Rectors placed upon the human race.

Somehow, the Rectors found a way to dissemble Royce’s reality by infiltrating his psyche and infecting his light-body and vibration. People thought he had a mental breakdown. That led to his Earth family committing him.

The combat boots stopped outside the door. A brawny man with an embellished uniform jacket entered the room. His beaty eyes were overshadowed by drooping under bags. His pinched nostrils and hooked nose caused him to wheeze when he breathed. While his voice exaggerated masculinity like a boy trying to threaten his elders. The higher the General stuck up his chest, the easier it was to look down on others.

Lightworker 67 screamed. Gnawed bits of his mouth guard flew out the side of his lips. The General didn’t even flinch.

Doctor Stellar got up from his seat. “General Boogang, it’s good to see you. I take it operations at the Staten Institute were successful.”

“You are correct. Your markups for the new plan were more than helpful. I may need to reassign you in the next couple of weeks.” General Boogang asserted.

“Well sir, you know I’m a city boy at heart.”

“The quiet country gives you the space to think though. I’ll let you know for certain soon.”

“Yes, General.” Stellar replied.

Lightworker 67’s mouth guard snapped in half. Doctor Stellar rolled his eyes and sighed. Boogang grinned like a hunter who knew his prey wouldn’t get too far.

“He is powerful,” remarked Boogang.

“But not powerful enough,” said Stellar with the smirk of a beast with blood on its teeth. “Nurse Betsy, please be so kind and get a new mouth guard for our most valuable patient.”

“No. Leave it off,” commanded General Boogang. “No one will hear.” Boogang stepped closer to the patient bed.

“You Rectors will never stop the Union,” spoke Lightworker 67. He sat up as far as he could reach in the straps. “Earth will be saved and the human race will be freed. Even now, you may kill me, but my art will live forever.”

“Oh enough. Administer the first shock.” Stellar ordered. Boogang leaned over the patient, fixated on his pupils. Lightworker 67’s convulsions shook the bed. His eyes swelled, prepping to bulge out of their sockets. Bloody mucus dripped from his nose. The outlines of the veins on his neck and face stretched as though to break through the skin. “AGAIN.” A white glow with reddish tones emanated from 67’s body. Overhead lights in the room flickered. “AGAIN.” The shock overwhelmed 67’s nervous system like one thousand bee stings. Urine puddles soaked through his hospital gown. “AGAIN.” Royce’s stamina was dying out like the end of a heavy storm. Right when the drops fall so softly, you have to stick your hand out to feel if it's still raining. Royce’s body was red like embers in a fire pit losing momentum. Eyes flashed bright yellow, then neon green. Next was his throat chakra. The last chakra to burnout would be his crown. It would signify the death of his subconscious and limitlessness. Sahla’s empathic reflex took over. She turned down the voltage while everyone was fixated on 67’s dying light. “AGAIN.” the shock was noticeably gentler. “WHO?” Doctor Stellar pushed his chair to the other side of the room. It spun after impact, but remained upright. “Nurse Halsey, have you lost your place?” Nurse Halsey avoided full eye contact with Stellar.

“Standard medically approved procedure requires the voltage be turned down after the fourth administration, sir.” Stellar threw his file folder on the desk. He bit his bottom lip, while clasping his fingers behind his back.

“Who’s in charge, Nurse Halsey?” Stellar questioned. The visuals running through Sahla’s mind were blood filled and justified.

“You are, Doctor Stellar.”

“Then never touch the voltage outside of my command. If you can’t stomach saving the human race, then get out of my procedure room.” Sahla looked down at 67. Blood streamed from both of his ears. Eyes flashed both deep and bright blues. Tears moved in his eyes like mellow ocean waves.

“Sir, I want to stay.” Boogang squinted his eyes at Sahla trying to read her energy.

“NO. Excuse yourself for the day and report back to my office when you’ve recovered your good senses.”

“But-”

“That’s if you want to job here,” remarked Stellar.

“Yes, Doctor.” Nurse Betsy reached over Boogang to turn the voltage back up.

“I think this one’s my favorite,” said General Boogang, while he smiled at Nurse Betsy.

As soon as Sahla left the room, she relieved her liquified nerves in a trashcan. Then she headed down the corridor. Her rattled spirit couldn’t be calmed. She struggled to unlock the storage room door. Sahla managed to knab a master key her second week on the job.

Sahla forced her tears back to steady her hand. The door squeaked as it opened. Immediately, she shut the door and darted to the back of the room. Kneeling, she focused on a vent hidden behind two shelves. With a pocket knife she concealed underneath old boxes with holiday decorations, Sahla unscrewed the vent. Her right arm reached to the far left. She stretched her fingers, feeling for a thick case.

Sahla jolted forward. She managed to slide the case towards herself. She quickly pulled out her communicator. The one device that allowed her to send direct messages to the Union. Still shaking, Sahla waited for the communicator to reach a full signal. With all of Earth’s atmospheric vibration blocks, it took much longer than it would on most planets.

Closing her eyes, Sahla pushed her thoughts of grief and senseless death into a small mental box. One that was becoming so full, she could hardly keep it closed. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. The communicator was at full signal.

“This is Lightworker 72. Lightworker 67 has been terminated. I can’t be certain, but I believe they’re moving forward with extraction operations. Once I know more, I’ll update. Agent numbers continue to dwindle on earth. In the past month, I’ve lost contact with eight. While some are in institutions, others have fallen to addictions and crime. Due to the spells suppressing life on this planet, many are forgetting who they are. I know the council wants to wait, but if the deep awakener doesn’t come now, Mission 555 will fail.”

Heavy combat boots rang through Sahla’s ears like an alarm. She quickly put away her communicator. LOUDER AND CLOSER. Sahla hid behind the supply shelves. The footsteps stopped right outside the door. She could see the beast’s shadow. The rusted spindle in the doorknob squeaked as it began to turn. Sahla cursed herself for not locking the door.

“General Boogang!” Stellar shouted from a distance. The knob stopped turning.

“What is it?” General Boogang asked.

“A question about our next target. Is it-”

“The healer we’ve been looking for? Yes.” Doctor Stellar’s breath slowed from a sudden burst of exhilaration. “Her powers are unstable. She’s already presenting as schizophrenic. She has no mentor. No awakened being to guide her. No one she can trust.”

“Wonderful. How long until she is under our care?” Stellar asked.

“Our psychics say she has two months tops. Her lifestyle choices and powers will spiral her wellness. She will likely land herself in one of our northeastern institutions.”

“Can we speed the process?” Stellar asked.

“Petra, our best telepath, believes the consciousness of her friends are more than hackable. She is infiltrating their minds as we speak.”

“Lovely. Sir, dare I say, it’s all coming together.”

“Are people will be victorious. Once phase three is implemented. We will be unstoppable.” The two laughed like mischievous boys vandalizing property.

“General, have you eaten lunch?” Stellar asked.

“Do you mean our food or theirs?” Boogang replied.

“Both,” said Stellar.

Their laughter echoed down the hall along with their footsteps. Sahla grabbed her communicator. Tears pattered down onto the device. Her tired, dry pupils burned. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“This is Lightworker 72.” Sahla paused to clear her throat. “They know about earth healer, Lolly Luna. She will be next.”

*Planet Lysa. The Following Day.

Melodic harp tones purified the heavy energy in the room like the laughter of children who felt safe. The air smelled of lavender and rain as though I were walking through the plains Beyond the Great Forest. A four-armed Squawkin administrator, Sue Dorris, multitasked between: phone, computer, coffee, shifting through e-files, and sending occasional glances my way.

The Union of Light headquarters was stationed on Planet Lysa. Lysa was the capital of the Pleiadian Federation. Most active and awaiting duty lightworkers were stationed there.

It was 0730 hours when I received the message to report to the union office. There was a look in mother’s eyes when I left the house. It was as though I was already waving goodbye from the departure deck. Without me, and with my father on mission, she felt like a bird whose nest was poached right underneath her beak.

Father was three years into covert operations in Rector territory. He sent word as often as he could. The exactness of his assignment wasn’t clear, but I knew he was searching for their secret weapon. The reason for their unyielding confidence and advancements into Pleiadian territories.

Since the abundant age of five, I trained as a lightworker. There were many topics pertinent to every warrior, such as: combat, telepathy, telekinesis, weapons mastery, reiki, universal navigation, aircraft piloting, universal cultures and languages, and herbology. The only subjects I didn’t excel in were piloting and languages.

Mother would tell me my first language was energy and that’s all I ever needed to know. Father joked that every good pilot had a robot to help them land. I’d grumble with annoyance and he’d remind me not to worry. That there was no greater teacher than experience.

Two years passed since my graduation from the academy. I watched all of my friends be missioned to planets throughout the universe. For some reason, I was skipped over. I must’ve reeked of a child’s eagerness or the foolish false knowing of a misguided teen.

Mother constantly reiterated how the council operated on divine timing. That I needed to trust the process. Yet, I started to doubt myself, even my purpose as a lightworker.

When I received the call to report to headquarters, I felt that rhythmic thump of certainty one only feels in their gut. It was my time. My turn for active duty.

Sue Dorris cleared her throat, resembling the disappointing mechanics of a dying engine. She cleared her throat again. Smacking her lips, she took a sip of coffee from her mug. Then she sighed, most likely in need of water. We locked eyes. My intuition told me to stand.

“Yes. You are correct, Agent Kay. The council will see you now!”

“Thank you, Sue Dorris.”

“Go through the golden doors and stand in the center of the round table.” The funnel of breath that arose from my toes was trapped in my chest. “Honey, you’re not going to die. Relax and release your expectations.”

“Right. Thank you, Sue Dorris.” She nodded. Then, in haste, she recommenced her masterful multitasking.

Warriors armed with star dipped swords lined both sides of the entry way beyond the golden doors. Each stood underneath soft blue lights that illuminated their fervor for the cause. They kept their chins up and hands at the ready.

The power the council members emitted from the room was magnetic and intoxicating. I looked back, feeling an urge to remember the image of the constellation engraved golden doors closing behind me. It was the vibration of change I felt when the lock was sealed by two guards.

The Union of Light Council comprised of twelve retired warriors, each bringing their universally stamped expertise. The closest I’d come to the members was on my graduation day from the academy. I knew of each of them but nothing of their souls.

To stand in the presence of the Masters was the feel the essence of selfless divinity. These twelve, wise masters were not only gifted, but cherished by the creator and entrusted with gifts beyond imagination, all to restore balance in the universe. To them, their lives were not their own. They were simply extensions of our creator, taking action as instructed.

A projection of the most star filled section of the cosmos lit the room. Golden statues of fallen warriors lined the walls. Each jutted out with raised swords as though charging into battle. I walked to the center platform, ignoring the whispers and many eyes reading my energy. The council members sat around a white, circled conference table.

The first member I recognized was, Master Yosi. On his face, one saw the look of a man drunk on security and peace, no matter the occasion. At the foretelling age of fourteen, he taught beings twice his age how to balance and channel numerous streams of energy at once.

In the center of the table was Master Kathra. Fluent in over four hundred universal languages, she of course was the lead speaker, and known for her nondualist cultural and public relations. Her petite frame was overrun with muscles. The stress that lined her shoulders did make her hunch forward. Yet, that added to her intimidating nature.

“Agent Kay Koto, do you know why you have been called before the council?” Master Kathra asked. I took a deep breath. Then I channeled the grace of my mother and the pride of my father.

“Yes. It is my time.” I answered.

“I sense uncertainty,” said a raspy voice on my left. I looked over. It was Master Ellow. A frail bodied being from Planet Bapin. Yet, he could move an entire planet with just his mind.

“She is barely an adult,” said a voice on my right. It was Master Bloom. A one-armed wizard weapons specialist that could wield a sword better than twelve able beings, and with only a single finger.

“Save your judgements. I call forth, the soul reader.” From a dark corner in the room, a small purple child appeared. They slowly walked towards me. Confused, I looked to Master Kathra for explanation, but her face was expressionless. I met eyes with Master Yosi. His energy instantly brought me a sense of calm like a sunset during a quiet evening, sitting amongst a pasture of wildflowers.

The child motioned for me to kneel to their level. I rested my knees on the warm, smooth platform tiles. The child’s whimsy energy felt just as powerful as the Masters’. With gentle hands, they moved my curly bangs behind my ears. Then traced their fingers over the center of my forehead. Instantly, I felt their magic. Their ability to penetrate my aura field, the very gate of my soul.

My light body activated. Each chakra glowed beyond my vessel. The red of my root reflected off the blue of my throat. The purple of my crown shot out from my head like a cosmic gas bomb. Never had I felt or seen my full light body. It was dangerous to expose. Especially if one didn’t know how to control themselves in that raw state of energy.

The luminosity of my essence became so powerful, I couldn’t see the council members and barely the child. Again, they circled their finger on the center of my forehead. Faintly, they whispered, “open and awake”. The skin on my forehead peeled back like a wet bandage. I felt no bit of pain. Not a drop of blood expelled from my vessel.

Warmth from power ran over my body. Revealed for all in the room to see, was my third eye. My light body generated a rush of air in the room. The same kind trees produce before the coming of a storm. The child took a few steps back. I could hear the Masters whispering.

The euphoria of my true nature was taking over. My body lifted from the ground. From my forehead, a white light shot forward, overpowering the colors of my other chakras. Several people gasped. My lower body trembled as I continued to rise from the platform.

“It is true,” said a soft voice.

“Kathra, he was right,” spoke another.

“It is her,” said a deep and stern voice.

The trembles in my body turned into mild convulsions. Tension in my chest made it hard to catch a full breath. The white light was growing so strong, I could no longer see anything. Beams of energy shot from my fingertips towards the ceiling. Glass cracked from above. Another beam split through a statue. A piece crashed and shattered across the floor.

“CLOSE IT, EDU. Do it before she kills us all.” Master Kathra ordered.

Small hands grabbed my ankle. The wind current in the room blew them back. The ground shook, shifting the conference table.

The child struggled to hold their stance and their grip on my ankle. Instead, they caught hold of my pants leg. Then jerked as hard as they could. Master Ellow had to be assisting, because I felt another force take over and lower my body.

Edu had to cover their eyes to enter my auric field. They grunted as they reached their finger to my forehead. We both screamed as their finger circled my third eye. In their mightiest voice, they shouted, “sleep and close”.

We both fell to the ground. With my eyes still lost in my light, I was barely conscious. Multiple pairs of feet approached the platform.

“Master Gogo, prepare a healing chamber for them both.” Master Kathra commanded.

“Of course,” replied Master GoGo.

“All this time," said Master Kathra.

“She will free them all. Kay Koto is the Deep Awakener,” said a very calm and peaceful voice.