In the heart of the barren Syrian desert, under the cold glint of a gibbous moon, a small convoy rumbled across cracked terrain. Within one of the black, bulletproof SUVs sat Agildo, infamous for seeing the future, his eyes dull, weighed down by knowledge of things yet to come.
The vehicle’s steady hum couldn’t mask the anxious whispers exchanged between the two soldiers sitting across from him. They gripped their rifles too tightly, avoiding direct glances at him. The air inside thickened with tension. Agildo' presence did that to people. He never revealed everything he saw—it wasn’t that simple. But they knew enough to fear him.
"Do you think he knows?" Khaled, the younger of the two soldiers, whispered in Arabic, his voice low.
Zayed’s eyes flicked toward Agildo. "He knows something. They say everything he predicted has come true. The Queen... the virus... this mess between Iran and Israel." His words trailed off, swallowing hard. "They say it’s happening because of him."
Agildo' gaze remained fixed on the endless stretch of desert outside the window, broken only by occasional ruins, ancient remnants of past conflicts. He looked detached, as if witnessing something far beyond the horizon, something unimaginable to others. His voice broke the silence, smooth, yet burdened with an eerie calm.
"It’s not happening because of me," Agildo said, speaking their native tongue without looking at them. His words sent chills through the air. "It was always going to happen."
Khaled’s jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around his rifle. "And there’s nothing we can do to stop it?"
Agildo turned, his dark eyes catching the moonlight. "It’s not about stopping it. It’s about surviving."
The convoy lurched to a halt. The driver’s voice crackled through the comms, announcing their arrival at the Iranian embassy in Damascus, a towering fortress of stone, eerily quiet in the dead of night.
Stepping out of the vehicle, the desert wind howled, kicking up sand like ghosts swirling in the moon’s shadow. Agildo paused, staring at the embassy’s silhouette against the stars. A flicker crossed his expression—fear, resignation, or both.
A low rumble rolled across the sky, followed by a sharp, unmistakable whistle. Agildo' eyes snapped upward, narrowing. The soldiers barely had time to react before a missile screamed down, slamming into the embassy with a deafening explosion. The blast flung them into the sand, flames erupting in violent bursts from the shattered walls.
Khaled scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, his ears ringing from the impact. Zayed shouted something at him, words swallowed by the chaos. Agildo, untouched, stood amidst the destruction, his eyes still locked on the sky.
"It begins," Agildo murmured, his voice unnervingly calm as the embassy burned. His coat flapped in the hot wind as he stepped toward the inferno. Khaled and Zayed could only stare in stunned silence as he moved into the flames.
They rushed to follow, but Khaled’s radio crackled to life, a panicked voice breaking through: "Israel has retaliated. Casualties reported… it’s spreading… Tel Aviv under attack… Iran striking back… we’re on the brink."
Khaled’s stomach tightened. The world was unraveling faster than expected. He exchanged a glance with Zayed, who looked pale beneath the grime of battle.
"What do we do?" Zayed asked, voice trembling.
Khaled glanced toward the burning embassy, where Agildo had disappeared. "Stay close to him. He’s the only one who knows what comes next."
Inside the embassy, smoke and death choked the air. Bodies of diplomats and guards lay strewn across marble floors, the stench of burning flesh thick. Agildo moved with unsettling certainty through the wreckage, his footsteps echoing against the scorched walls.
In the center of the once-grand hall, he stopped. His eyes landed on a large, ornate mirror hanging on the wall, cracked and smeared with ash. His reflection stared back, but something was wrong. The man in the mirror wasn’t him. Not entirely.
A shadow loomed behind the reflection, indistinct but palpable, whispering words Agildo couldn’t hear but felt, deep in his bones. His pulse quickened as the shadow grew, bleeding out from the mirror into the room. Frost crept along the edges of the shattered glass.
"Who are you?" Agildo asked, voice barely audible.
The shadow shifted, coiling like smoke. Its form solidified, taking the vague shape of a man Agildo recognized—the late Iranian leader whose death had sent shockwaves through the region. His eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, lips curling into a sinister smile.
"You already know," the figure whispered, its voice cold, slicing through Agildo’ mind. "The war is the beginning."
Agildo stepped back. "This wasn’t how it was meant to unfold. You—"
"It’s exactly how it was meant to unfold," the shadow hissed, stepping closer, its presence suffocating. "The lunar calendar, Agildo. You saw the patterns, but you didn’t understand. The war isn’t about oil or power. It’s about what lies beneath."
Khaled and Zayed burst into the hall, weapons drawn, eyes widening at the sight before them. The air felt heavy, charged with something unnatural. They couldn’t see the shadow, but its weight pressed down on their souls.
Agildo turned to them, his expression unreadable. "We need to leave," he said quietly, his voice strained.
"But what about—" Khaled started, but the words caught in his throat as the ground rumbled beneath their feet. The walls trembled, cracks splintering through the stone like spiderwebs.
Agildo stared at the mirror, something dark filling his eyes. "The worst is yet to come," he whispered, echoing the prophecy he'd given the world weeks earlier.
Outside, the sounds of war grew louder. Missiles screamed, drones buzzed like angry insects, and the distant thunder of artillery rattled the earth. Agildo felt it—the rising tide of violence, the world groaning under the weight of something ancient, stirring beneath the surface.
They ran from the burning embassy, the sky burning with more than fire. War raged, but Agildo knew the truth. This war wasn’t about nations. It was between forces far older, waiting, watching as humanity stumbled toward this moment.
The moon hung low, casting long shadows across the desert. Shadows that whispered what was to come.
War. Death. And something far worse.
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