We beheld the destruction of a tropical nature preserve, we await the fiery rain of cnidocytes.
After the beginning, that beauteous beginning, Cnidaria reigned throughout the universe. The sentient radiates became one with their host, and their florescent bodies lit the black of space. Streaming cnidocytes splendidly aglow, like a threadful Aurora Borealis. More worlds could they rule and preserve as they left their first one to nature.
But for sentient omniscients everything must be observed, and hence they came to notice that things were not quite right in their Gaean preserve. As the original jellyfish had initially evolved, so had other species. And these others, for their claiming to think best, did not account for balancing the lives of others. The world no longer held a tropical bloom, species of fauna were hunted and diminished, flora was ravaged and torn asunder, the great oceans of radiate birth were polluted and plundered. Young jellyfish were slaughtered and locked in cages, their own food was decimated by fishing boats and oil spills. All of life was undermined and lost without respect to continuation, except for that of one species: the primate-born man with their nuclear cities, their waste of energy, their destructive drive. And then, even they began to turn on themselves.
Cnidaria was angered and knew they would need to act. They sent representatives who could win back their preserve. Who could approach these primates with guile and tact. Yet the primates possessed not the same blessed qualities, they wrote off the approach as extraterrestrials to be locked in military facilities. Their masses became aware only of sensationalization and conspiracy, flocked under their leaders' corrupt ideology. They claimed a new sentience and creation, one of which said that they were the divine image. That all of nature had been given to them, to destroy, to ravage, to put themselves above. And the leaders profited from death and deceit as Cnidaria and its memory became nothing but heresy.
Cnidaria was outraged and took different tacts. Now they couldn't be as peaceful with this affront on their world. Their own subversion was needed, and their own force applied. They found ways to work themselves into select primates' minds. A triangle was created in one of their home oceans, later to be known as the Bermuda Triangle. In it they lurked, these giant flamboyantly-coloured jellyfish, awaiting sailors and pilots to trap and recruit. One by one the planes and ships did arrive and vanish, leaving their crews to be reprogrammed and freed. Or maybe deprogramming would be a finer word as the people repented when they heard how it had been as opposed to how their own lives had been led. Most of these primates willingly accepted Cnidaria's role as protectors of this world that had once been a preserve. They learned much about the corruption they had lived with, and of their leaders' hazardous politics. They learned of conspiracy and deceit and destruction, of competitive natures that would let nothing other than self-furtherment exist. They received the warning that Cnidaria was enraged and would do whatever necessary to bring back their order, their beauty, their safety for life.
And so these primates left the Cnidarian triangle, forever changed by everything they had discovered. No longer could they lead their previous lives so they discarded their past and all of its lies. They took false names, normally semi-aquatic in fact, to remain missing in the eyes of those who had known them. And they brought back their image of a fiery rain of cnidocytes, dreams of giant jellyfish descending upon their earth with rainbow-coloured tentacles hundreds of feet in length. That flaying rain to scorch the masses if they could not restore the earth to its protectors again.
It may have seemed unpleasant to others, but it was their hope for restoration and life. They began their lives' work of spreading the word, of doing everything helpful to restore the nature preserve. They undermined authority when it posed a threat. They became corporate enemies and saboteurs. The branches split amongst the peaceful speakers and those who would stop at nothing to further their word. But every branch always remembered one thing: Cnidaria must be restored before reality became their dreams of the countless tentacles descended to earth to liberate it from those whose heresy caused only harm.
Behold the Blessed Cnidaria, or beget the Fiery Rain of Cnidocytes.
St. Sailing, Operative J
The Blasted One/Highest Radiate Initiate
Our Blasted Lady of the Jellyfish