A river blocked by clumps of muck and slime, food wrappers, plastic and polystyrene, empty cans, plastic bottles—flowing sluggishly, weighed down by the garbage obstructing it. Along with the trash, it carries a nauseating stench, wafting through the city as the weak breeze drifts across the noisy metropolis that the river cuts through. The smell is no different from that of a sewer. Because it is a river, yet also a giant drain, it might as well be officially crowned as the National Great Drain—aligning with other nationally recognized monuments that attract tourists, such as the National Mosque, the National Museum, the National Monument, and the National Archives…

Meanwhile, wastewater from the restaurants lining the riverbank pours out in green and brown streams from kitchen sinks, dribbling down moss-covered black and green walls into the Bunus River. This is the same water that people spat into the sinks, the same water that once washed dishes, the same water that rinsed blood from meat, poultry, and fish, that once carried worm eggs from the folds of leafy vegetables, that once flowed through the intestines of fish. Now, it is the water where fish and crocodiles swim, and where the homeless bathe.

Cigarette smoke spreads from the mouths of wretched souls gathered beneath the bus station and along the sidewalks, choking the air with smog, releasing a stale stench, drying throats, and irritating noses. "Kuala Lumpur, Smoke-Free City"—that’s the slogan echoed in mainstream media, yet never enforced. It remains an aspiration that will never be pursued. After all, although smoking has been officially banned on sidewalks, in food establishments, and around office buildings, the law is never strictly enforced. Even the enforcers themselves partake in the negligence, turning the regulation into a joke—something to be ignored, spat upon, urinated on, and defecated upon. The law is nothing more than empty words on paper, a mere doormat at best, or at worst, a toilet.

At a landfill on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur, garbage trucks come and go daily, unloading waste—plastics, baby and adult diapers, plastic bottles, rotten vegetables, fish guts, chicken entrails, bones, spoiled rice—all piling together, swarmed by maggots, oozing black and white sludge with an unbearable stench. The liquid seeps into the ground, into underground streams, and in some places, settles into the earth as acid. The waste continues to grow into mountains. It will not diminish or decompose—at least not for hundreds of years. Even if plastic does degrade, it takes an agonizingly long time, and it will never completely disappear. Plastic does not decompose—it only breaks down into smaller pieces, known as microplastics. Microplastics are indestructible; they enter the bodies of organisms that consume them. Worms in the soil ingest microplastic-laden dirt, birds eat the worms, and if the birds happen to be farmed chickens, the microplastics will transfer to their bodies. When humans eat those chickens, the microplastics enter the human bloodstream and settle anywhere—perhaps in the kidneys, the brain, the nerves, or even in the scrotum, obstructing sperm production and causing infertility.

At a port, customs officers detain a shipping container. Upon inspection, they discover hundreds of large compressed cubes—bundles of crushed aluminum cans bound with wires. Some contain stacks of paper and cardboard, others are filled with compressed plastic bottles, and some contain bundles of glass bottles. In another container, customs officers find boxes full of electronic waste—circuit boards from laptops, the internal circuits of smartphones and tablets, walkie-talkies, circuit boards from household appliances like table fans, refrigerators, washing machines, food blenders, microwave ovens, bulky desktop computers, blood pressure monitors, stethoscopes, car dashboards…

All of this was supposedly sent for recycling. But upon further investigation, customs conclude that these waste shipments originated from Europe, the United States, and Japan. Were they sent here to be recycled? No. These countries were meant to recycle their own waste. However, because there are too few companies willing to do so due to the overwhelming volume and lack of resources, they ship their garbage here instead.

Out in the middle of the ocean, near an oil platform, a tanker has just finished loading crude oil. Four hours into its journey across the sea, en route to a port, a violent thunderstorm strikes. Lightning splits the ship in two. Furious waves overturn the vessel, shattering the oil tanks. Crude oil spills across the ocean’s surface, forming a thick layer that lingers for weeks, suffocating fish in the depths below. Birds that rely on these fish for food starve to death. Some birds, trapped in the sticky crude oil, drown in its suffocating grip.

Factories continue to spew smoke into the skies of industrial zones. Forests continue to be cut down. Biodiversity vanishes. Wild animals, losing their habitats and food sources, venture into human settlements. Factory smoke rises into the atmosphere, merging with clouds, forming acid rain that corrodes buildings and acidifies the soil.

This world has been drastically altered by human hands over the past two hundred years. And the worst part? These changes are irreversible. The transformation is permanent. Like plastic, which, once processed from petroleum, will forever remain plastic. Or like electronic circuit boards, which will persist unless actively recycled. Is there a way to restore Earth to its original state—the way it was before all this destruction? Before electronic circuit boards, before plastic, before crude oil?

Yes. I propose a solution: The Great Reset.

The Great Reset consists of two phases: Total Annihilation and Total Creation. First, let me explain Total Annihilation.

Everything in this universe is composed of elements, primarily carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and oxygen. If something is burned, it breaks down into these basic elements. If the breakdown process only produces toxic gases (as in the case of burning plastic), those gases should be further decomposed into simpler elements by subjecting them to higher temperatures. Organic matter, at its simplest form, becomes charcoal or carbon because all living things, including plants, are fundamentally made of carbon with trace amounts of other elements. In short, the entire world can be reduced to its most basic components.

Thus, Total Annihilation can only be achieved through combustion—burn everything. But such destruction requires an immense amount of energy. Even nuclear bombs and the most powerful weapons ever created by humans would not be enough. That’s because these weapons merely release energy that has been stored within the Earth since its creation. But the energy required for Earth's destruction must come from beyond Earth—it must come from God.

To carry out Total Annihilation, Earth must be moved closer to the sun. With more solar heat, everything on Earth will burn and break down into its simplest elements—carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen… even humans will not be spared.

Once this solar-driven destruction is complete, what remains will be a swirling cloud of raw elements, floating in a vacuum, aimless, governed by weak forces of attraction—waiting.

This is where the Total Creation phase begins.

In the vast randomness of these drifting elements, The Goldilocks Condition must emerge—a perfect balance. But perfection requires divine intervention. God alone will determine whether these scattered particles coalesce to form a new world—one where humanity respects nature, where life is built not from carbon, but from hydrogen and nitrogen, leading to a physiology unlike anything described in today’s biology textbooks.

And so, from chaos, a new planet will form. A world without plastic. Without oil spills. Without trash-choked rivers and cigarette butts. A world reborn.

And thus, The Great Reset will be complete.