Chapter 9
1027words
It was a massive circular space, as if the entire firmament had been transported underground. Overhead was a twinkling star map, inlaid with some kind of luminous mineral, accurately reproducing the constellations of the Nordic night sky.
The precision of the star map far exceeded Elias's expectations; he could even identify the "Crab Nebula"—this supernova remnant had been recorded by Chinese astronomers when it erupted in 1054, with brightness exceeding that of Venus, yet it was never mentioned in Norse mythology. This suggested that those who built the temple not only observed the heavens but also documented celestial changes; they perhaps already knew that the "dwelling place of the gods" was actually a star that could explode.
The stone surface of the altar was not completely smooth; running one's hand over it revealed fine patterns, as if some form of writing had been deliberately worn away.
Orion's belt, the handle of the Big Dipper, the solitary light of the North Star, and even the faint glow of the Orion Nebula could be distinguished. The floor was paved with white marble, etched with paths corresponding to the stars above, forming a massive astronomical calendar.
There were no idols here, no offering tables, no traces symbolizing the existence of deities.
In the center of the space stood a stone altar, simple and ancient in design, without any carvings or decorations. The altar's surface was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the starry sky above, as if heaven and earth converged at this point.
Elias slowly walked into this space, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness, sounding exceptionally clear. He had imagined the core of the temple countless times — perhaps a magnificent hall gleaming with gold, perhaps a chamber filled with mysterious symbols, perhaps with gigantic statues of gods gazing down upon all living beings... But he had never imagined it would be such an empty, such a desolate place.
He walked to the altar and reached out to touch the cold stone surface. The moment his fingertips made contact, the altar suddenly glowed with a soft light, and the tracks engraved on the ground began to flow like silver rivers, eventually converging into a line of runic text hovering in mid-air:
"God is not here, for God has never left the human heart."
Elias's heart suddenly tightened. This sentence was almost identical to the writing on the last torn page of his grandfather's diary.
He walked around the altar and discovered a recess on its side. Instinctively, he took out the Thor's hammer pendant and placed it inside. The pendant fit perfectly into the recess, and the altar's glow grew even brighter.
At this moment, images began to appear on the walls of the space — not murals, but something resembling holographic projections. The images showed a group of ancient Norse people who were building this underground temple. They didn't use any supernatural powers, but relied only on simple tools and collective wisdom, gradually carving rocks and moving stone blocks.
The images continued to change, showing the purpose of this temple. The ancient Norse people observed the stars here, created calendars, and recorded seasonal changes; they held ceremonies here, not to worship deities, but to commemorate ancestors and heroes; they passed down knowledge here, carving their understanding of the world onto the walls, hoping to transmit it to future generations.
Elias looked at these images, and his mind suddenly became clear. The so-called "gods" were nothing but the personified imaginations of ancient Norse people about natural forces, a deification of heroes and virtues. They used mythological stories to explain phenomena they couldn't understand, religious rituals to unite their communities, and faith to give meaning to life.
"So that's how it is..." Elias murmured, "Grandfather was right, gods have never left the human heart. Because gods were created by humans in the first place, they are humanity's yearning for beauty and transcendence."
Just then, he noticed a figure behind the altar. He was startled and quickly walked over, discovering it was a withered corpse sitting against the altar, as if merely asleep.
The corpse was wearing a worn-out explorer's outfit, and Elias recognized it as his grandfather's clothes. His heart filled with grief, but strangely, he didn't feel too surprised, as if he had anticipated this scene all along.
In grandfather's hand was an ordinary pebble with a small inscription carved on its surface: "I found something more important than God." Elias picked up the stone, feeling its warmth, as if it still retained his grandfather's body heat.
He sat down beside his grandfather, gazing at the starry sky above, his heart filled with tranquility. He finally understood why his grandfather had torn off the last page of the diary, because some truths can only be understood through personal experience.
Whether God exists or not is not important; what matters is humanity's faith in God, and the courage, wisdom, and kindness this faith inspires. Those myths, those religious rituals, those imaginings of supernatural forces, are all part of human civilization—they represent our attempts to understand the world and transcend ourselves.
Elias recalled his journey, from the attic in Boston to the fjords of Norway, from Stonehenge to the underground temple, he had met all kinds of people and experienced various challenges. These experiences helped him grow and understand what truly matters.
He stood up, gently lifted his grandfather's body, and placed it on the altar. He knew this was the best resting place for his grandfather, to be with the stars and the truth he had pursued throughout his life.
Elias took one last look at the empty sanctuary, then turned and left.
He took with him his grandfather's diary, the inscribed pebble, and the Thor's hammer pendant. These items were no longer clues to find God, but mementos of his life's journey.
He knew that his journey was not yet over, there were still many things waiting for him to do. But he was no longer lost, no longer confused, because he had found his faith — not faith in gods, but faith in life, in knowledge, in human civilization.
