"Hey! Don't pass out now!" Kaivan shouted, panic leaking through despite his effort to stay calm.
Fabrizio gave a weak smile. "Relax… I'm just… a little tired…"
Suddenly, the pages of the Tome of Omnicent trembled in Kaivan's hands. Glowing letters appeared in the air.
Go to the summit. Find open ground. Endure the second wave.
Kaivan clenched his jaw.
Without a word, he lifted Fabrizio onto his back. His muscles creaked softly as they bore the weight.
They pushed forward through the storm, climbing toward the high plateau. Behind them, Fabrizio's improvised tank lay buried under snow and debris. Along the path, frozen corpses of soldiers and gigantic creatures stood in silent testimony to a war that was far from over.
The wind roared, whipping against their faces and lungs. Every step felt heavy. Every breath was like swallowing shards of ice.
The night sky burned red with fire and thunderous explosions. The Caucasus Mountains were no longer silent. Their white snow was stained with soot, dust, and blood. Orange light from distant blasts illuminated the skeletal remains of shattered tanks and helicopters. Flames still licked at twisted metal, melting it slowly—creating the image of a frozen hell in the heart of winter.
From the debris-covered ridge, Kaivan and Fabrizio looked down at the valley below, panting, their bodies covered in wounds.
What they saw was something no human should ever witness.
Ya'juj and Ma'juj were dancing upon the ruins, celebrating their awakening.
Under the burning light, their forms were clearly visible—manifestations of genetic chaos, stripped of any human order. Some were small and agile like monkeys. Others were massive, built of raw muscle and bone. Their skin was scarred, many still dripping with fresh blood.
Some gnawed on wrecked tanks and helicopters, their jagged jaws crushing metal as if it were brittle biscuits. Crooked yellow teeth. Glowing red eyes in the darkness. Ancient madness lived in every stare.
Others, driven by some strange instinct, wore fragments of metal as armor: chains across their chests, steel plates on their shoulders, broken rockets on their backs—whether as symbols of status or simply to inspire fear, no one could tell.
Their laughter rang out in hysterical echoes—a mixture of bloodlust and ecstasy, like a primitive tribe celebrating a successful hunt. Some danced atop piles of charred bones, forming grotesque rituals beneath a rain of burning embers.
Kaivan stood frozen.
His breathing was heavy. His shoulders supported Fabrizio's fading body. From this height, the valley looked like an ocean of fire and blood. His throat was dry. His thoughts spun wildly.
From the depths of his childhood memories, a fragment of hadith surfaced—words he had once failed to understand.
Now, they returned with crushing weight.
"Allah said: 'O Adam!' Adam replied: 'Here I am, at Your service and full of joy.' Then Allah said: 'Bring forth from your descendants a portion for the Fire.' Adam asked: 'Lord, what is this portion?' Allah replied: 'From every thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine will be for the Fire, and one will be for Paradise.' The companions were stricken with fear and asked, 'Who among us will be that one?' The Prophet replied: 'Rejoice, for nine hundred and ninety-nine are Gog and Magog, and one is from you
A flare of light from a distant blast illuminated the valley. In that heartbeat, Kaivan saw the truth: not dozens or hundreds, but thousands — a dark tide spilling from the mountain clefts, sweeping across the snow like a living tsunami. The narrow fissure they had discovered earlier, barely a meter wide, had widened to nearly two meters, vomiting forth an unending horde.
"So… this is what that hadith meant… one against nine hundred and ninety-nine," Kaivan whispered, his hoarse voice swallowed by the wind.
His hand tightened around Fabrizio's limp shoulder. The young man was close to losing consciousness, his face pale as snow.
"That hole earlier… how could it cause something this massive?" Kaivan's voice trembled, caught between fear and disbelief.
Fabrizio tried to smile, his breathing broken and uneven. "Kaivan… I can't last much longer. I'm out of strength… It's just the two of us. There's no way we can fight all of them…"
Kaivan met his friend's gaze. Fear was there—but so was trust.
He pressed the radio on his shoulder, his voice rough yet firm amid explosions and monstrous roars.
"Levan! Do you hear me?! Do you have even one regiment at your post?! We're overwhelmed! This is completely out of control!"
The signal scattered into the storm of sound—blasts, gunfire, and inhuman screams. Each of Kaivan's words felt like they were being thrown into an abyss that devoured hope.
Cold clawed at his skin. The wind slashed his face with icy shards. Above him, the gray sky hung like a funeral shroud over the world.
Deep underground, a metal bunker hummed like the heart of a colossal machine. Red panels blinked. Sirens wailed endlessly. Technicians ran in panic, their pale faces lit by emergency lights.
One researcher pointed at the infrared screen, his voice shaking.
"Sir! Look at this!"
Levan stepped closer, his boots striking the steel floor. His eyes widened at the sight of thousands of heat signatures spreading chaotically from a massive hole—like poisonous blood flowing through open veins.
"This isn't a normal invasion…" he whispered. "They're spreading like living liquid…"
Then, another voice came through the speakers—calm, deep, and filled with quiet strength.
"Allow me to help. I will transfer my data into the robotic frame created by Fabrizio. I will support them until the rescue unit arrives."
Lyra's AI voice echoed gently, bringing calm into the chaos. In a world on the brink of collapse, she was no longer just a machine—she was humanity's last remaining hope.
Levan stared at the surveillance monitor, holding his breath. For a moment, he hesitated.
Then his gaze hardened.
"Grant Lyra access," he said.
His voice was steady, yet carried the weight of all mankind.
On the surface, snowstorms and blood mixed along the rocky slopes. A silver-green capsule made of Tungtichriosm alloy was trapped among the swarm of Ya'juj and Ma'juj. The creatures—armed with obsidian-like teeth and glowing red eyes—smashed against its walls, roaring until the air trembled.
Inside, the narrow chamber shook violently. Kaivan, his body covered in wounds, clung to a metal support, suppressing his scream. Red warning lights bathed his face in anger and despair.
"How much longer do we have to hold on?!" his voice echoed against the steel walls.
Fabrizio lay weakly on the floor. His breathing was heavy, his skin drained of color. Slowly, he turned his head and looked at Kaivan with eyes that had lost their light.
"We… can only wait…" he whispered.
Kaivan slammed his fist against the capsule wall.
"Wait?! We'll die if we just stay here!"
Before his anger could explode, something changed in the distance.
Deep inside the bunker, Levan stood before a massive hangar. At its center rose a two-meter-tall robotic frame—like a knight from a futuristic age, jet-black with glowing blue lines pulsing from its chest to its legs.
"Save them," he said softly, yet firmly. "They wield the Tome of Omnicent and the Tome of Omnicraft. We cannot afford to lose them. They… are more important than you realize."
Green light flared from the robot's chest. The surrounding lamps trembled. Its joints hissed as it rose—like a giant awakening from a long sleep.
Lyra's voice echoed from within the steel body—deeper now, warmer, and trembling with emotion.
"Of course. They are important to me, too."
The robot stepped forward. Each step shook the bunker floor. When it reached the surface, jets from its back and soles ignited, shattering the ice around it.
Then it soared into the gray sky—carrying a fragile spark of hope across a world on the verge of destruction.