The morning conveyed through the incredible phenomenon of the sunrise an intense, though ambiguous feeling about the approaching communion yet to be made. The light that struck through was free and liberated, due to the transparency of the city's buildings. It was my office at its height above the sidewalk below that had a convenient view of the world around me. I was a centrifuge, I felt, of the world. Posterity Industries was the harbinger of a future in which a dominant humanity seized the reigns of nature that was before and utilized the emensity of it for our purpose of evolution. That the race might derive from it what became necessary was initial idea. Once a conclusion might be drawn that our race was bred by nature, produced as it is in modernity, and would eminently come to  use nature for its own right. The universe in its functions was obviously anthropocentric, and what a prospect might it be that I and my company would come to ballast that humanity back into a peaceful state of unity. In my office grew various plants, from several different corners of the world. Baskets hung with flowers and vines draping down, growing, and being watered, by way of technology. The atmosphere in some way, perhaps not by intention, but then, certainly done subliminally, was made in the image of Babylon, and their great and splendorous success.

Still, the idea of making some organism, much less a nonsentient organism, more capable than humanity... that seemed dangerous. But alas, when you set something above the head of a human, they will always climb up to reach it. Ancient mythologies believed that the moon could be achieved, and at last, it had. The gods had hung the golden apples upon the tree, and Hercules had reached them. Inconcievable it should be that anything of this liking was different. 

The elegant, curved, white sliding door began to open. The door's angles were curved, skewed to the left on all sides, imaging and emboding the epitome idea that this sort of futurism was flexible and that the world and all to come was incredible malleable.

Stepping forward into the bright, polished office was Dr. Moreau Keshan, a brilliant African-born man, standing a couple feet taller than the average person, and intimidating most out of the instinct of humanity, inclined to be fearful of taller ventures. From his extended hand was released a briefcase, which I took in turn, and laid it on the table. Within were several long, gleaming vials of turquoise liquid. These vials glimmered with an illustrious resonance, producing the thought of incredible acquisition which might be found in its product. It seemed celestial, as if it had been handed from the clouds. 

"This is somewhat... different from our other endeavors," Dr. Keshan said, stepping towards the view of my window to the sky. "We're not simply mixing the genetics of flowers this time." He seemed a bit derogative when speaking of the past trials. "Oh," he said, with perhaps a hint of disdain or sarcasm, I couldn't determine which, "you still have the azangeas I sent you." He looked at the square-potted plant, delicately glistening with the colors of an azure blue and the spatters of a reddish maroon, where the colors met in places they blended to form a color like that of the cloudy sunset. 

"Oh, those are little more than a trial and err experiment. What we have here," I lifted up one of the vials to a point where the sun penetrated the dense liquid, and cast a blue aura across the room, "will purify a plant from all natural flaws, and will provide humanity with a new source of food. A food that will cleanse the body from all ailment!" I exclaimed passionately. My stare was unremovable from the vial, where I looked at every single bubble that popped within the liquid, as they sailed to the top. "On either side of the river, there was a tree of life, bearing twelve types of fruit, yielding fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree were there for the healing of nations."

"So, now what? Do you think you are going to restore Eden?" Dr. Keshan looked inquizitive.

"Hardly," I answered, turning attentively, "somehow that would seem... presumptuous."

"What do you hope to accomplish?" he asked, prying, likely to establish if my motives seemed absolutely earnest.

"To change the world. To eliminate hunger and purify the body from inherent toxins. Perfect the human health condition and free mankind from their disruption," I said, tracing my fingers along the case, so polished by the sunlight. "If people no longer have hunger as the objective for their warring, perhaps all discord will fall apart at the seems. We can cause humanity to unite under the common and sole source of welfare. We can free men from themselves."

"And, you estimate all this, considering all that we've tried already?" he said, cynically. "People have tried to hack us and thieve our technology concerning this already. Posterity may not be secured. At least some files are sure to have slipped out. And..." he said at last, "how are we to be certain that this plant won't also have a... side-effect." He shifted on his feet with reluctance.

"And which side-effect is that?" I asked, seeming to be ignorant. 

His nostrils seemed to flare as he became agitated. "How can you allow that risk to come... the risk of telepathy, for something that is not even to be considered sapient?"

"Perhaps Nature's God has made things a bit more complicated than we have as yet predicted."

"That would be an understatement." He put his fist down on the table in relinquishment.

The lab was not at all as erie as one might predict a Pandora's box to be, but in the end, was it Pandora we were set to deal with, or Cadmus? An aisle ran along my sides, arrayed with the cryogenically contained predecessors to the current work in progress. Plants from any number of combinations, either genetically engineered, or hybred, or simply injected with mutagenic liquid, were stored on display in the secretive lab, enclosed for the safe keeping of things to come. The azangea flower, the hybrid of the azalea and the hydrangea, was a beautiful attempt at a perfect plant for the project. It had not been a success, but it was a beautiful decoration. Nature's collaboration had allowed us to produce from these failures a serum, derived from the genetics of these plants under experiment. These plants were freakishly capable of such a powerful ability. When injected with poor variants of the serum, they had developed telepathy, and could read from human thoughts. What was more, some of the more aggravated specimen drained thoughts and energy from the minds of a few of our scientists.

They had not been permenantly injured, thankfully, which ensured the government's condonement of the project. What the plants had taken, we could not exactly tell. However, affectants had claimed that their minds had been... purified, as if in someway, the plants had drained not only the physical ailments, should their fruit be consumed, but also drained the mental plagues, in sight of its presence. The future would come from this new, suitable plant. 

The doors opened before me, as if I were an emperor, approaching his grand hall. Behind me lay the past, and all the old emperor's failures. Before me was exhibited such a symbolic figure. It was raised to a height of my torso, but Keshan stood taller as he lingered over it already. I smiled, implying a comeraderie of this moment in which we might attempt- no we would establish utopia. I looked at the figure. A lily. It was Her favorite. So long ago it seemed that she loved me, who seemed to my only achievement attained by myself in my life. But in truth, she was no more. Taken by something I would now banish. Hatred seemed so difficult when directed at an idea, a spirit, and not a physical antagonist. But now, we were to re-establish the Tree of Life. 

"Are you so certain of this?" Keshan asked, while alongside, other scientists made their observations. 

"I have no greater faith for our race than in what lies before us."

"What lies before us... that you worked to create."

I continued with a bitter contempt in my voice, and a snarl on my lips, that was reflected by the surface outlining the case which possessed the lily. "In our sordid world, it is so hard to trust in anything greater than oneself."

"Solely having faith in oneself is one of the more difficult faiths, considering you yourself are just the equal of this universe." He reminded me.

"I know all too well there is something beyond this world, and I know what God's name is. But I cannot live in this world without bringing a bit of the next into this one. To at least in someway free from the terror." I took the vial into my hand.

Loosening the cap, I turned to the others in the room. "Let it be known all that is necessary to change something," I said, aphoristically, "is to provide a better nourishment to the roots." I poured the liquid into the dirt. The white flower quivered, it seemed. The purity of the plant, the beautiful of the gold entrimmed upon it. It grew larger and larger. Mutation spiraled up the stem as if it were dust caught in a tornado. The scientists, at first hesitant to leave the spectacle, soon scurried away as the roots began to consume the room. The danger of the moment soon also came to grasp me. I fled the scene, leaving now to the street below the building. The vines of the lily, still elegant though virulent, outstretched through the frail product of architecture. It became enormous, larger than any tree of life I could have imagined, but simultaneously, so inviting to the senses.

It caused the shell of the building to decay and crumble to nothing. Surrounding in all directions, people like me were mystified by the enormous beacon of sensation. It seemed to call to a person, and free them from all disomforting experience. It seemed to purify the mind from any iniquity or stain that life had left upon it, causing it to become distorted to the world's capabilities. It did not free from the past of a person's sordidity, but it did unconform the mind and loosen the strains of the human condition. I was set free from my nature, as were all around me. The lily, strangely, grew fruit. I picked from it a single piece and ate of it, and it restored my flesh to a health unlike any I had yet experienced. The heart became strong and the mind, renewed. The world was changed. All thought gave way to a new, sublime peace. I relaxed my soul as I thought I had heard Her voice. I released myself to the new shape that things had taken.

The world had been renewed at its roots.