14
An unnatural number of them filled both the red desert earth and the sky.
On the ground stood a species of Dragons whose thin flesh was covered not in scales, but in massive plates like layers of exposed rock strata. Above them hovered countless winged Dragons, their bodies wrapped in thorn-like scales resembling crystallized roses. Their wings shimmered like molten syrup, moving as smoothly as silk in the wind. Yet it seemed impossible that such wings alone provided lift—they appeared to float in open defiance of gravity itself.
The instant one Dragon had been destroyed, space itself tore open—and these creatures poured into the world.
The accelerator was slammed to the floor. The gear engaged. The high-mobility vehicle shot forward along the straight asphalt.
Then the ground ahead ruptured.
A lump of rotting flesh forced its way up through the asphalt. First came jagged protrusions like spider legs. Then intestine-like tentacles writhed upward, whipping through the air. Mud-like meat oozed out in thick waves. As the malformed mass emerged fully into the sunlight, more Devil’s Children gathered across the desert in rapid succession.
(We don’t have time for this—)
Beard Bull clicked his tongue in irritation. Throwing the vehicle into reverse, he spun the wheel and drove hard into the open desert.
The Devil’s Children surged after them—a tidal wave of flesh determined not to lose its prey.
Then something unexpected happened before their sweat-drenched eyes.
The Dragons attacked the Devil’s Children.
They clashed violently—like beasts devouring their own kind.
Seeing their chance, the young soldier Bull turned the wheel sharply and drove straight through the chaos of monsters, weaving through carnage toward their objective.
This was a world beyond human intervention.
And it had spread across the entire desert.
Messiah watched the battlefield disappear behind them, nausea twisting in his gut.
Among the swarm of monsters, one human-shaped figure stood still.
The helmeted head turned—aligning directly with Messiah’s gaze.
In that instant, Messiah felt it.
Someday, he would face that figure.
Inside the vehicle, after escaping the cannibal battlefield, no one spoke.
The nightmare had begun only yesterday morning. Reality and dream blurred together. Messiah Christ felt trapped in a vortex of truth and illusion. Since that morning, a drunken haze clung to his mind and body, refusing to lift.
“This isn’t a dream… right? It’s all real… isn’t it?”
Maria pressed her small trembling body against him. Her voice shook as much as her shoulders.
Messiah wrapped an arm around her and gently rubbed her shoulder, trying to offer reassurance. But the words would not come. Silence clung to his lips.
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“As long as you’re safe, Maria…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
But between them, understanding flowed quietly.
“What’s going to happen? Is the world ending? Is everything over today?”
A cruel question.
Messiah frowned.
He knew Maria asked difficult things—but fear demanded words. He held her tighter.
From across the truck bed, Elizabeth Gahanov brushed her shining hair behind her ear, watching with faint displeasure.
Makina Anaz, seated beside Maria, shot Messiah a look sharp as a blade—like a girl whose favorite doll had been taken away.
Emotions swirled within the canvas-covered vehicle as it rounded a large curve and headed back toward the city.
“Wouldn’t it have been better to head directly to the spaceport?”
Yi Vence turned his thick, muscular neck toward the priest. Years of American football at university had forged him into the strongest among them.
“Undersea volcanic activity and seismic shifts are triggering tsunamis,” the priest replied calmly. “The coastline is flooding. Had we continued, we would have been swept away.”
When they saw it with their own eyes, disbelief died.
The sea was devouring the city.
A black ocean climbed onto the streets as if swallowing them whole.
The vehicle accelerated along the trembling road just as white waves crashed at the raised shoreline, soaking the dry asphalt.
When the airport shimmered like a mirage beyond the tsunami’s reach, a violent tremor shook the road.
An earthquake.
Even inside the moving vehicle, they felt it clearly.
The women screamed.
Maria clung to Messiah. Makina grabbed onto Maria from behind. Elizabeth seized a steel support beam. The men braced themselves.
Bull turned the wheel and floored the accelerator, desperate to escape the coastline.
The vehicle narrowly evaded the tsunami’s reaching hands.
Then the tremor intensified.
The massive tires lifted off the ground.
The vehicle flipped.
Bodies were thrown violently against the interior. One by one, consciousness faded.
Messiah regained awareness only when small hands shook him.
Maria’s scratched face stared down at him.
The world inside the vehicle had inverted.
“The epicenter lies between the Pacific and Indo-Australian Plates,” Father Max Dinger said sharply. “Get up. We must escape to space. A second and third wave are coming. And the nuclear strike approaches.”
He did not hide his frustration. They stood at the edge of annihilation.
Miraculously, none of them were seriously injured.
The earth still roared beneath them.
“The spaceport is just ahead! Move!”
Bull had already exited the vehicle, rifle slung over his shoulder.
They stumbled out.
Then he saw it.
The spaceport gate—built atop the artificial island—was closing.
The one-kilometer titanium bridge was packed with desperate people. Panic surged as the massive gate sealed shut. Some were crushed between steel barriers. Others fell screaming into the sea below.
The gate closed—cutting life from death.
“What the hell are we supposed to do? Earthquakes, monsters, nukes?! This is insane!”
Irat stomped in fury.
“Someone save me!” Jamie shrieked into the blazing sky.
“Quiet. This is within expectations.”
The priest’s composure was a mask. The plan was unraveling.
They ran toward the side fencing.
Bull pointed toward a maintenance gate beneath the titanium bridge—an access path leading underground into the artificial island.
He raised his H&K XM8 rifle.
For a moment, the youths thought he would fire into the crowd.
Instead, he shot into the sky.
The thunderous sound froze the panic.
“Make way.”
And they did.
They moved through hostile stares—through mothers clutching children, fathers shielding families.
Guilt burned in Messiah’s chest.
Only Irat, Jamie, and Bull seemed unaffected.
When people realized they weren’t heading for the main gate—but the small side entrance—murmurs rippled through the crowd.
The lock had already been broken.
Bull kicked the half-open door wide.
They descended the stairs.
Below was a narrow suspended maintenance walkway leading to the island.
The ocean wind howled beneath their feet.
“Move,” Father Max urged from the rear.
Irat hesitated—until Jamie taunted him.
“Are you even a man?”
“Shut up!”
He ran.
They reached the steel wall of the artificial island.
The titanium door was locked—keypad, retinal scan, voice recognition.
Max stepped forward, placed his palm on the terminal, and closed his eyes.
He transmitted his consciousness beyond time—requesting a hack from headquarters.
Seconds later, the door hissed open.
“Inside!”
They rushed through.
Then—
The ocean exploded.
A colossal eruption of water rose into the sky. From the distant sea emerged massive tentacles—an island-sized mouth opening wide.
A scream like that of a dying maiden tore across the heavens.
To be continued — Episode 1–14
an endless story,
an endless myth.
