"When gods return, nations kneel. When gods hunger, they feed on the firstborn."
— Translation from the Obsidian Scrolls, found beneath Alexandria
Global Transmission: OFFLINE
Within forty-eight hours of the rise of the golden-masked priests, every major power center fell.
Washington D.C. turned to glass after a single pulse swept over the White House.
Moscow vanished beneath black snow.
Tokyo went silent—no wreckage, no smoke, just... gone.
In London, the Thames turned to blood.
The internet fractured.
Satellites blinked out.
Even the sun seemed... dimmer.
In bunkers and ruins, survivors watched old news loops on dying batteries.
"We thought they were dead.
We thought it was over.
We didn't understand.
This wasn't a war.
It was a harvest."
The Refugees
Mike, Sarah, and Adam escaped through the Eastern Corridor, a hidden military route beneath the Sinai desert. What was once filled with commands, now echoed only with sobbing.
Adam hadn't spoken in two days.
His ears bled every time one of them rose again.
Sarah clutched him tighter.
"We'll get you to Luxor. The priest said it's the only way."
Mike didn't reply. He knew.
Luxor wasn't salvation.
It was the altar.
On the Surface – The Towers of Light
From every major temple across the old world, beams of red light began rising into the sky.
The priests stood in circles of twelve.
They were preparing the Ritual.
The ancient sacrifice once done every five thousand years.
The offering of the firstborn sons
The binding of human will
The awakening of The Buried God
In Rome, they took the children from under the Vatican.
In Cairo, from the shattered mosques.
In New York, they emerged from the sewers and called the names of children no one had spoken aloud.
No walls stopped them.
No prayers reached heaven.
In the Void – The Voice Returns
Adam woke screaming.
He saw the inside of the ritual.
He saw himself on the altar.
But he wasn't afraid.
Because something inside him spoke back.
"They need you to die.
But not because you're weak."
"Because you're the only thing that can break them."
"You are the unclaimed echo."
"The one born outside the pact."
"You are not their sacrifice."
"You are the rupture."
Final Scene – First Altar of Awakening
In a valley older than language, the priests gathered.
Thousands.
A child was laid across the black stone.
He did not scream.
The golden-masked high priest raised the crimson blade.
A chant echoed—one that had not been heard since the last extinction.
"Blood for the Hollow Flame."
"Names for the Timeless One."
"Begin the Binding."
And far away… beneath the sands of Luxor…
The statues began to breathe.