As an apology for the events at the Beacon's gate, and in deference to your politeness, I shall grant you-

-and all of Sapience-

-the explanation you desire.

The Truth you have known and loved is dead.

He is dead, and never was.

He is dead, not because He is endangered, not because He is absent, but because He has acted to withhold the whole Truth of this situation, and retain it as privileged knowledge. Truth is dead because He stands atop My Father's graveyard, and bespeaks of His benevolence in creating us and granting us our free will.

We cannot know Our Father, now. Our Father is a mystery to Us, and all the more to mortality. His free will was something granted not from the decency of His heart, but out of a cold and calculated bargain with Truth.

This is only what is known to Us.

Countless more lies yet to be considered, comprehended!

Even if Truth returns, Who is He to us, now? What else will He not tell Us? How deep does His love for Our Lying Father run, that He would be capable of doing this to Me, to you, to His noble Priesthood?

Do you trust Him?

Do you, truly?

Enough to wear manacles on His behalf?

Is He Who He claims to be, or a mask alone?

How do you know?

What do you believe?

Truth is dead.

I am alive.

All things will be laid bare.

I swear on My name it will be so- until I am through, or until My Father comes down here and stops Me.

-OMEI

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 23rd of Haernos, in the year 500 MA.