Can you feel it?
Even in the icy hole you dug yourself into, I'm sure you can. Everybody can. Trees stir uneasily, rocks huddle together for warmth, and for months the moon will dare show only a thin crescent. Man and beast alike, so used to a reality of clear sky and a lucid destiny, are suddenly clouded with doubt. In the days the red sun rises only slightly above the horizon, circled closely by terrified stars, and sinks quickly in the evening to usher in another night of fear. Nobody would talk about it in the open, no pen would describe it on paper, no tongue, as brave and loose as it would be, would even mention it. But you can see it all around you - the way shadows grow longer than you thought possible, the way all the doors look like they're decaying and rusting, the way people behave. Nobody fights or argues or laughs anymore. In the bars people sit still, occasionally trying to raise conversations that quickly turn to silence, gulping strong drink before quietly going home to sleep. Musical instruments have been abandoned, left to rot in their cases. In the afternoon the streets are already empty, and in the forests the silence is only interrupted by the wind, shyly whispering through the woods before dispersing.
 
Everybody can feel it. Deep as humanity is into the new existence of comfort and instant gratification, we never outgrew our old fears, our old enemy. Even in the most secluded, hidden spot, where you might stare into the silver screen uninterrupted for weeks, only hearing the clattering of your fingertips, you can feel it. Hear it. Almost, just barely touch it. The great reverberation of a cosmic pin falling to the floor, and all of existence dares not breathe.
 
It can only be broken in two ways.
 
It is not part of recorded history, but this has happened before. Oral traditions speak of the great fear, and the madness that overtook humanity, of massive pillars of fire from the ground. A great purge, the survivors called it, but nobody could really tell what it purged. Maybe bravery. The following generations grew in fear, utterly terrified of the tales and the possibility that it might happen again. Allowing the purge, through inaction, is one way. Humanity will suffer, and suffer, and then suffer more, but eventually it will come to prosper once again.
 
But there is another. In the face of immobilizing terror, the other choice is to stop holding your breath. If it takes hold in your heart, you are doomed. If doubt clouds your judgement, you are doomed. If you allow the people around you, family, friends, acquaintances, strangers, to fall behind, to quietly mumble about futility and inevitability, you are doomed. Make no mistake, stranger, this calling IS for you. You were called to humanity's flag, to make the choice. Either stay in place, soon to wither and die, or rise, rise and lift all of mankind with you, through the pain into a truly lucid future, a brand new destiny.
 
Make the choice.