We were to be a seed. A tiny atom that would over eons reproduce itself a million times over. Each cell containing the simple structure of a teacher and twelve students. A guardian and twelve arch-guardians. The structure would develop into an apparent shape made of globes of knowledge. Each globe would be interconnected and each globe would be under the control/rulership of a guardian.
When I visualised myself looking down at the floor of the great hall, at all the interconnected groups with their concentric outer rings, I had the distinct impression of gazing at the roots of a tiny tree. A living tree. A live tree. A sapling.
It was a mighty task. We spent several years in the hall of records perfecting the thought projection techniques; nurturing the structure; making sense of it all. Time was irrelevant though as if we existed in a vacuum - an empty space comprised of the fabrics of the universe itself. Few of us would venture out of the halls; when we did it was by way of projections for the hall of records was sealed form the outside world. Its food supply nil, so volunteers had to venture out on a regular basis to obtain simple supplies. Thus we lived on a diet of fish and fruits obtained from the hillsides and shorelines of the temple isle.
We thus lived simply. The reports of the advancement of the technology of the outside world no longer bothered us; apart from a small minority within the group. Over the early years a tolerance was developed toward the disobedience of a few members in the group. They were offered the opportunity to leave on more than one occasion. It was an understandable thing, for within the structure were all human experiences and emotions. Every conceivable experience, so far, was contained within the structure. (Extract taken from The Chronicles Of Ezra by Matthew James)
