"The Past is non-existent. This is never to be questioned, and no investigation is permitted to be conducted, in pursuit of the question of history. History begins with "ONE". Only that which, henceforth, occurs from the year ONE will be recognised as history. Death, by torture, is the punishment for this Law's transgression." (CANON 3:18) He turned his eyes away from the window and rose out of his chair. He slowly paced to a large cabinet beside the huge entrance doors. From around his neck, he brought forth a key and placed it into the slot of the cabinet door then slowly opened it. Inside this cabinet Brook kept, what he liked to call, "his gadgets." There were rows of buttons glowing like coloured embers. Brook applied pressure to several of the buttons. Quickly, long drapes on the far wall rolled away and revealed a blank, white, wall that soon began to produce pictures that moved like life itself. The images were of fire and of raging destruction. There were scenes of huge cities that stood majestically on the horizon one moment, then falling into mountainous piles of rubble, the next. More pictures showed fat people, conspiracies, death and misunderstandings. Every kind of unimaginable horror played upon the wall. Brook sighed to himself, as he remembered the rest of the poem: "His music ends ... His silence devours his soul, Caging his ever-diminishing days In a way that any man could lose His assurance in himself, And 'why?' he is!" Then he slowly repeated to himself the words that were the Law: "The Past is non-existent", but he couldn't allow himself to believe this, especially with the truth revealing itself in front of him, at this moment. He felt a cold tightness within his chest when he let himself think about his ancestors and the way that they destroyed themselves. Their greed for wealth and their crazed megalomania was the cause for the deaths of millions. He saw these men die, in the pictures that played-out right before his eyes. Once more he slowly breathed out the words: "The past is non-existent." He cautiously looked around so that no one would hear him, if only by chance, as they passed in the hallway. He remained in private thought.