The flame separated from the wick and traveled further into the darkness. Job stood and followed it until it illuminated another door. It was black. It was made of stone, maybe obsidian. He felt as if this door was the center of the labyrinth. On the door was written, “Death comes knocking.” He knocked on the door, but it did not open. Beneath the words, it had a slim hole. It then dawned on Job that he still had his sword sheathed. He drew it and pushed it through the hole. It was a perfect fit, and the door clicked and opened.
The room was cloudy with smoke. He breathed in and felt intoxicated. As Job walked forward, he was beginning to see something ahead. When he finally came close enough, he saw a fire made with sticks and branches, and on the opposite side of the fire was a woman with olive skin and raven-black hair, in a black robe, sitting on the ground with legs crossed, puffing on a pipe.
She said to him, “And there he is.” She put down her long pipe. She then grabbed a bottle, and poured a clear substance in one clay cup and placed it on Job’s left, and grabbed another bottle and poured a red liquid in another clay cup, and placed it on the right. After pouring, she took a long drink of the red liquid. Her cheeks were rosy with an intoxicated look.
“At long last, the devil everyone has been talking about. I’ve been waiting forever to meet you,” she said with a wrinkled brow. “O, and he’s so handsome too.”
“Where are we?”
‘You tend to call your home the Deep, but this is a place much more ancient than yours, it’s behind the background world. This is the Under. In this place, you must face your dæmons.”
“And who are you?”
She took a drink from the bottle, hid her grin behind it, and said, “I’m one of the Great Mothers, the personification of a chthonic, brooding, pent up ecstasy that sparks the intuition! Without us, there could be no creation. You met my other half before me. Yes, he talks about the comprehension of story and plot, but it would all be empty without the beat and pulse that drives and thrives within you! Without us, tragedy, life even, would be dull and tiresome…”
She then smirked and reached for her long pipe by her side and took a deep pull from it. Her dark eyes danced from the crackling fire glowing from it. She then exhaled in Job’s face. He could not see through the smoke.
So you drank from the well of Chaos. Do you now understand Chaos?”
“Chaos is what brings sight,” Job replied
“Silly Job. You’re an agent of Chaos and know so little of it. The difference between the lunatic and the philosopher is that the philosopher examines their delusions. Chaos! Ah yes, out of Chaos comes Order; and out of Order comes Chaos. Nothing is meant to last forever. Others like you that have come before, to build their grand, ‘contradiction-free’ systems, believe they’ve got it all worked out. But one’s propositions cannot be proven true or false, and here lies the thread that unravels the entire system, for can anyone ever truly understand Chaos? O, they can feel it flowing through their heart and veins, but what drives it? Chaos leads to a Death, and out from it births an intuition, an ancient emotion that is so wise that it seems almost atmospheric, a feeling that arises from a place so deep within that it takes both a tragic fall and complete apperception to realize its raw power. But still, those who had this power before you did not fully grasp its understanding…”
“The mystery of Chaos is to unbalance the scale. That’s what you did and what you are here to do once again. It’s part of that Power, not understood, which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good! Tell me, Devil, what do you see?”
The haze settled, and Job’s vision focused. He began to see shadowy figures in the fire’s smoke. “I see… a brave new world. I see vast oceans, deserts, and great forests. There is a tribe, I see a people, noble and free. They eat from the land, and live in harmony.”
“But that is not all you see.”
Job felt some dissonance within. “I see one curious being, exiled from a misdeed misunderstood. So, by the force of the Other in his tribe, he is forced to stray from the tribe out into the great unknown. There he searches for greater meaning. He looks to the skies to map out the meaning of his scars and the stars. He looks to animals to see himself, and he looks to Nature for patterns and designs.”
“Yes, he is different and marks the beginning of the end, the Son, who is the first to find his freedom truly. It is only when one is opposed that they discover their freedom. I feel it within you. I see through your eyes as you see yourself in him, but beware, this dignity within comes at a tragic cost!”
“At what cost?”
“Death, destruction, a dying world where a lake of fire burns brightly, which makes the sky turn red!”
“It has all come to pass.”
The woman’s eyes rolled back in a trance and she reached over the burning fire, gripping his hand tightly, and with a low, possessed voice, she said, “All that has happened before, will happen again!“ She unclenched her strong hand and coughed, then gave a look of mystery.
“What do you mean?” Job asked quixotically.
She tilted her head in response. Her normal voice came back and said, “Job, your destiny is in front of you. On your left is a potion of beautiful blessings. It will ease the sufferings and sorrows of a knotted mind, and you will forget the mean miseries and tragic endings of your past. On your right is a potion that will awaken you to see ultimate Good and Evil, where all the destruction I’ve warned of will be because of you.”
Job looked at the two drinks. The one on the left was serenely clear and almost blue. He picked it up and smelled it, but it did not have a scent. He put it down. The one on the right was red. He picked it up and smelled it. The aroma was of fruit, like cherries, strawberries, and… grapes. It reminded Job of spring. A long lost memory from ages ago came to his mind, it was of himself and his late wife, Uzit, eating red grapes on the porch while sharing stories about when they first met, her beautiful smile, her big eyes. Just from the thought of her, his eyes watered. He’d never choose to forget Her.
“There it is,” the woman said as her eyes focused on him.
Job drank the red. It had an acidic, dry, and sweet taste. He swallowed and put the cup back in its place.
“As I said, without feeling, the story and plot in life would be meaningless. Do you feel it stirring within now?” she asked curiously.
His world started to vibrate.
She raised her voice and said, “How does it feel to be the source of it all?”
Everything started to shake, and her hair swirled in the air, the cups and pipe swept up in a loud whirlwind.
She raised her voice higher, “To have ultimate power?!”
The wind then put the fire out. She grabbed his face, put her lips to his, and breathed into his mouth, and then she slipped away as Job ascended upwards toward a bright light.
 Faust lines 1334-1336