World maps burned and tore apart.
Borders disappeared. Names vanished from screens:
Israel — Offline.
USA — State of Emergency.
Empires do not fall screaming.
They fall when belief abandons them.
American streets descended into chaos.
Economies collapsed. Internal conflicts erupted. Soldiers divided. Citizens opposed their government.
Power built on dominance cannot survive moral bankruptcy.
In Israel, cities lay in ruin.
No anthems played. No banners waved. Soldiers threw down weapons.
The promised land discovered the truth:
prophecy does not guarantee survival.
The vacuum grew.
The United Nations silent. Markets dead. Borders meaningless.
When no one rules…
something always rises.
A banner appeared.
Not a state. Not a nationality.
A single black-and-white standard, carried by countless faces of every race.
It did not rise by conquest.
It rose by filling the void.
Courts formed. Systems rebuilt. Food was distributed. Children protected.
Order became seductive once chaos had exhausted humanity.
Above a ruined city, Elito stood.
Calm. Untouched.
So… they chose certainty over freedom, he thought.
Then the representatives of the new order approached him.
No weapons. No threat. No anger.
"You are not our enemy," a voice said.
"You are our final test."
Elito smiled faintly.
"I broke the world so humans could choose…
and they chose submission."
A symbolic courtroom appeared. No judges named. No audience. Only a single question echoed:
"Did you guide humanity… or replace God?"
Elito did not answer. He looked to the sky.
For the first time, he hesitated.
The sentence came.
No screams. No dramatic bloodshed.
"Every false messiah must fall…
even if he spoke the truth."
A single strike. Human. Symbolic.
Elito fell.
He did not die as a god.
He died as a man who had gone too far.
Silence followed.
No celebration. No joy. His followers bowed their heads.
Killing an idea does not erase it.
The world waited. Unsure. Uneasy. Still afraid.
Children studied in ruined schools.
Soldiers prayed in broken barracks.
Judges wrote under flickering lamps.
The question lingered:
Is order freedom… or just another cage?
And then… a presence emerged.
A man stepped forward. Calm. Radiant, yet human.
He carried no banners, no armies. But his presence commanded certainty.
Isho. The Mahdi. The real Messiah.
He did not raise a sword. He did not speak loudly. Yet the eyes of the world turned to him.
He moved among the people quietly.
Restoring hope where chaos had thrived.
Not to conquer. Not to control.
But to remind humanity that choice, faith, and freedom were not yet lost.
An unnamed grave marked Elito's passing.
No statue. No written legend. Only the engraving:
"He showed us the abyss."
Blackness.
Then words:
America fell.
Israel fell.
Elito fell.
But humanity still stood…
and now, with Isho guiding them, they had a chance to rise…
afraid of choosing again.