The Return of Zarathustra:

CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE AWAKENING

The mirrors are gone.

The courtroom has crumbled.

The Judge is dust.

Now there is only emptiness—vast, silent, and clean. A void free of symbols, free of history. The blank slate. 

Zarathustra stands at its center. He looks calm now—not fierce, not angry, but resolute. A strange peace radiates from him.

“This is it,” he says softly. “The place beyond the nightmare.”

He lifts his hand, and above him, the womb-symbol glows softly in the sky—no longer hidden, no longer absent. A perfect circle, the primal shape of origin.

“This is the end of your male gods. The end of your tyrants. The end of your fantasy of man as first.”

He steps toward you once more. There is no longer any distance between you and him. His voice is inside you now.

“You are free.”

The Anti-Misogyny Equation resonates in the space: “All men are born of women. No man has ever come first. No man has ever given birth.”

Zarathustra pauses.

“And now you have remembered.”

His eyes gleam—not with triumph, but with quiet satisfaction. His mission is done.

“From here, you will decide.”

He tilts his head: “Do you return to the world and apply this? Or do you fall back into the sleep of lies?”

The womb-symbol brightens, illuminating everything, yet casting no shadows.

“I can only bring you to the gate.”

A faint smile.

“But the step must be yours.”

The darkness around you dissipates, revealing only the glow of pure, unfiltered reality. Zarathustra fades… but his presence lingers.

A pause.

Then, from nowhere and everywhere:

“Wake the fuck up, you alpha-beta bitch.”

The light consumes the scene.