Cain has grown into a behemoth, with gargantuan hands for tilling the soil. Although he is clean-shaven, his entire countenance is more like that of a beast than a man, and he has been imbued with Gaia’s strength and ferocity, as the progenitor of the Wild Man, the Sasquatch and the Neanderthal. He’s taken his brother Abel out to the great open field that he has tilled with his own hands, and they’ve begun to quarrel. Cain has come to see him as a traitor, doing nothing to protect their birth-right from the predatory angels, so he picks up a mountainous boulder and splits Abel’s skull open, spilling out a stream of blood that is received by the bright green grass of the open field.
Eve gave birth to two sons; Cain, who would become a great husbandman, bringing agriculture and the growing of fruits and vegetables, and Abel, who would grow up as the Shepard, and take up the sacrificial consumption of his fathers animals.
The Titan Eve lay on her side, among rising blades of Antediluvian grass and mega flora, it surrounds her to form a terra-formed paradise. In her hand, she holds an enormous crystal glass, she fills from a river of wine that will bring her inebriation. Looking up at her naked body, it is titanic, appearing to cover miles across, from her head, which is covered in the most radiant, fiery hair you’ve ever see, to her toes, obscured and faded in the far distance.
Demonic, alternate reality versions of Adam and Eve lay down, like giant, obscene pigs, rolling in their own festering filth pit, laden with a grotesque torrent of dead rotting bodies. They have filled themselves sick, with the flesh of the Earth, of her beasts, fowl, forests, and even her own children. This giant, white porcelain tub of filth sits upon an endless, flat bathroom tile landscape, whereupon sit the ruins all of the civilizations which will come before them. The byproduct of timeless purity, seen through the fun-house mirror we’ve come to know as time, now reduced to radioactive rubble. Saturn ascends high in the sky, still appearing as a dull, bluish star, with a red halo of light around its edges, the first stages of its ring which would subsequently follow. Saturn seems to emanate a sickly and surreal aura upon the very fabric of time, which now shimmers upon A cartoon like dystopian landscape.
A radiant Eve appears to lead her husband Adam through a surreal and unthinkable tropical labyrinth. All of the vegetation looks like it’s underwater, and loose leaves, flowers and fauna seems to float upward into the air, in some bizarre sort of vacuum, almost as if gravity itself were not as prevalent as it is today. Everything heavier is gently lifted up, off the ground, by this otherworldly antediluvian vacuum, emanating from the troposphere. The tree’s trunks are so enormous that they appear as giant towers of flowing wood that fade into the murky vegetation-filtered sunlight above. They’re now coming onto a deep and dark abyss, where unthinkable creatures exist, and a giant Ciakar fly’s out into the sky, from the murky depths of this dreamy labyrinth, to greet them.