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NO CHAPTER for 2 days BECOZ ITS 3 IN 1 CHAPTER
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The light faded.
Noah and Amzura stood still—shocked.
Not in fear… but in awe.
The silence was heavy, but it wasn't scary.
It was holy.
And then… a calm and powerful voice echoed:
"Don't be afraid, Prophet. I come in peace."
A figure slowly stepped out from the fading light.
He wore a white robe that shimmered like the sky before dawn.
His hair was a strange mix of black and golden blonde, flowing like fire and shadow.
Two wings—pure white—faded softly behind him.
Noah instantly stepped in front of Amzura, shielding her with his arm.
His voice was respectful, but his eyes were alert.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The figure smiled gently.
"My name is Azazel," he said.
"I am one of the Archangels. I did not come to harm you, or destroy anything.
I am just a messenger… from the Creator.
The one you've always whispered to in silence."
Noah froze.
His breath caught.
His knees almost gave in—but he stood tall.
"He… heard me?" Noah whispered.
Even Amzura gasped.
She had seen her husband speak to the sky many nights…
But now, she felt it.
This wasn't a dream.
Azazel nodded.
"Even when the world ignored your voice…
He never did."
Amzura grabbed Noah's hand tightly.
It was real.
He was right all along.
Azazel smiled warmly.
"Rejoice, Noah.
You have been chosen."
He stepped forward, his voice calm but full of power.
"You were never like the others.
The Creator gave you strength—yes—but it was your heart that set you apart.
You never used it for pride.
You protected the weak. You never bowed to false gods.
You lived with kindness, even when the world turned cold.
That's why… He chose you."
Azazel raised his hand slowly.
A golden symbol began to glow in the air—floating gently—
Then, it hovered above Noah's chest, and—
BOOM!
A wave of energy burst out from Noah's body, shaking the ground slightly.
For a moment, the whole world flashed white and red—
A strange mix of light and life.
"What… what is this?" Noah gasped, holding his chest.
Even Amzura stumbled back in shock.
Then—something strange happened.
A voice echoed inside Noah's mind:
[Unique Skill Acquired: Voice of the Truth]
Azazel chuckled softly.
"That's your unique skill.
A gift from the Creator himself."
Noah looked up, confused but amazed.
"Voice of the Truth?"
"Yes," Azazel explained.
"When you speak the truth with a pure heart… your words carry divine weight.
They will pierce through lies, soften even the hardest hearts…
And shake the proudest of souls."
He paused, eyes serious.
"But remember—only when spoken with purity and innocence…
Only then will its power awaken."
Azazel's voice echoed gently.
"Also remember, Noah… this power only works when the heart is pure—when the soul is clean."
He looked at both Noah and Amzura with soft eyes.
"From this moment on… you are no longer just a man. You are a Prophet—a guide for mankind."
Azazel stepped forward and gently placed his hand on Noah's shoulder.
"With this, you will be gifted the memories of Creation. And your wife… she will receive them too."
Noah's eyes widened. Tears filled them.
After 500 years of silence… of wondering… of praying…
He finally had his answer.
Amzura clung to his arm, crying—not out of fear… but out of joy.
She knew this wasn't a dream. This was real.
Noah dropped to his knees, overwhelmed but not broken.
"Thank you… Thank you, Creator," he whispered.
Azazel smiled and stepped back.
"Rest now, both of you. Tomorrow, your journey begins. The world needs you—now more than ever."
Then the heavens slowly opened above them.
A soft light surrounded Azazel, and with a final peaceful smile—
He vanished into the light.
The Next Morning
The sun hadn't risen yet.
The air was still. The birds weren't even chirping.
Everything… was quiet.
Noah opened his eyes slowly.
His chest felt warm—like something was glowing inside.
Not heavy, but powerful. Alive.
"That… wasn't a dream," he whispered.
He sat up in bed.
Amzura was still sleeping peacefully beside him.
He looked at his own hands.
They were trembling.
"He really came…" he said softly.
Suddenly—time froze.
Everything around him stopped.
Noah gasped. A vision hit him.
He stood in the middle of an endless ocean.
But… there was no water in his land.
Then came the sound of war.
Of storms. Of thunder. Of crying.
And then… a voice.
A voice so powerful, so divine, it shook the air:
"Noah, my servant… listen well.
The people have strayed too far.
They bow to stone.
They reject the breath of life I gave them.
Their hearts are filled with pride, lies, and cruelty.
No one bends the knee to Me anymore."
The voice was calm, but strong.
The kind that makes the proud feel small.
"So I give you this gift—gold and ore to build ships like none before.
They will carry the seed of life.
Trees will grow again, animals will survive.
Bring two of every kind, and your family.
The sky will cry like never before.
The flood will come.
Some will laugh. Some will curse you.
Some will try to stop you.
But stay strong.
I am with you.
And I will protect what you protect."
Back in Reality
Noah jolted awake—breathing hard.
The sun had risen.
His heart was racing.
Amzura sat up quickly and grabbed his arm.
"Noah? Honey? Are you okay?" she asked, worried.
Noah looked at her. His face was pale, and blood dripped lightly from his nose.
His hand clutched his chest.
"I saw it… Amzura… I saw it. The end. It's coming."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, gently wiping the blood from his face.
Noah stood slowly. His whole body shaking.
Amzura suddenly felt something inside her too.
She blinked.
And like Noah… she understood.
She had been given the same memories.
The same light.
She looked at her husband, tears in her eyes.
She knew.
The Creator had spoken.
And the future… was already starting.
As Noah stood still, his hand trembling slightly, eyes glowing with purpose.
"The world will flood," he said, voice steady but heavy.
"We have to build an ark. We have to save who we can."
Beside him, Amzura gently held his hand.
She looked at him and asked softly,
"Are you going to tell them now?"
Noah nodded.
Inside the stone hall, his family sat together.
His four sons—Shem, Ham, Japheth, and Canaan—looked up as Noah entered.
Shem was calm and wise, the kind of man who listened before speaking.
Ham rested his arm on his axe, strong and loyal like a warrior.
Japheth leaned forward, eyes curious, always full of thoughts and questions.
Canaan sat with crossed arms, gold chains peeking under his robe.
A small idol charm was hidden in his sleeve. He wore pride like armor.
Noah stood in front of them, silent for a second… then he spoke:
"Last night… I was visited by the Creator Messenger."
Everyone froze. The room went completely silent.
"He gave me a vision," Noah continued.
"A great flood is coming. It will cover the whole world.
All life will be destroyed… except what we manage to save.
We must build an ark. We don't have much time."
Shem stood first.
"I believe you, Father. Tell us what to do."
Ham nodded without a word.
"You've protected people your whole life. I'll follow you anywhere."
Japheth grinned a bit.
"Guess we're building the biggest boat in history, huh? Let's do it."
Noah smiled… but then, Canaan spoke.
He leaned forward, eyes sharp and cold.
"So you're saying some… mysterious voice told you to build a boat?
Like a madman?"
He scoffed.
"That's crazy, Father. No one's going to believe you."
Noah took a step closer, calm but firm.
"I'm not asking the world to believe.
I'm asking you, my son."
Then Canaan pulled something out of his sleeve—a small idol, made of black iron.
"This is my god now," he said, holding it up.
The room went silent.
Even the air felt heavier.
"Your God… I've never seen Him. Never heard Him.
He gave me nothing.
But this…" he pointed at the idol.
"This gave me wealth, respect, power."
"So don't ask me to follow your 'Creator.'
I follow what's in my hand, not empty words."
Noah's heart cracked.
"Canaan..." he whispered, hurt in his voice.
But Canaan stood, cold and firm.
"You're not my prophet. Not my messiah.
And your god… is not my god."
Then without looking back, he walked out—his footsteps echoing in the silence.
Far above, on a high cliff, a figure watched.
Wings of light spread behind him.
His glowing eyes followed Canaan as he walked away.
It was Azazel.
A golden sigil appeared over his arm, pulsing softly.
"Even the righteous ones are tested by blood," Azazel whispered.
His voice calm… but heavy.
"This boy… he's already choosing the path of ruin."
Azazel closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and vanished.
Back to his other duty—
The Creator had told him to Create a river And time… was running out.
Now, we shift to the other side...
Azazel was flying through the skies, not too fast — just cruising. He wasn't in a hurry. He was enjoying the wind on his face, the peaceful sky. But deep down, he knew he had a task to do — to create a river. That's what his father, the Creator, told him.
But the part that confused him... he had to drown many people to do it.
"Why, Father?" he thought. "Why do I have to do this? I don't get it. But... I'll ask Him after I see what these people are really doing."
As he arrived, he slowed down. The place looked familiar.
"Hmm... this land... It should be somewhere near future Turkey, or maybe the old Byzantine Empire... Europe... yeah, this is where that type of civilization would grow," he muttered to himself.
Then he landed.
He looked around and saw something that shook even him — an archangel.
The people here... they had carved homes straight into the mountains. Giant temples, glowing with gold.
"So much gold... way more than normal," Azazel whispered. "It's like 90% of the world's gold is here."
He floated lower to take a better look.
And then... he saw it.
His eyes widened. His wings stiffened.
Even for someone like him — someone who had seen the worst in the lower worlds — this was beyond messed up.
What he saw made his angelic heart tremble.
Azazel looked down...
And what he saw broke something inside him.
Women… were cooking their own children over fire. The babies were crying, and the mothers were eating them.
His face turned pale.
Then, his eyes moved to another side — one man killed his own brother… just for gold.
Even though he already had more gold than his brother, he still wanted his too. And the brother? Same thing. Both of them… wanted each other's gold. So they stabbed each other to death.
Azazel's chest tightened. His angelic heart trembled. "What… is this madness?" he whispered.
He touched the memories of one of the women — and saw something even worse.
She didn't do this out of pain or hunger.
She did it by choice.
Why?
Because she didn't want to spend her gold.
So for hundreds of years… she gave birth again and again… raising children like livestock — just to eat them later.
And because people in this world lived long… the horror never stopped.
Azazel looked further.
He saw storerooms — filled with dead babies, wrapped and kept… like food.
To be eaten later.
He almost threw up.
No wonder… now he understood why the Creator said to erase them.
These people were no longer human. They had become monsters.
Azazel's fists clenched.
But then... he heard a voice. A calm, gentle voice — filled with sorrow and strength.
"Stop this," the man said. "This is a sin. The Almighty Creator will punish you!"
He stood alone — a good-looking man with peaceful eyes. "Children are not food. They are your future. Your legacy! This gold… this wealth you're killing for — you won't take it to Heaven. And it won't save you from Hell!"
The people laughed. They cursed him. Some threw stones.
They pushed him away.
They didn't care.
Azazel watched in silence. "That's Prophet Ikron…" he whispered to himself.
Yes, he remembered. Among the 124,000 prophets, this one was Ikron — sent to this land.
Then a voice echoed from the heavens:
"Azazel, bring my servant Ikron to Heaven. These people have crossed the line. Their end has come."
Azazel nodded. "I understand."
But first, he wanted to visit the Prophet personally.
He would create the river at night.
Later that night…
In a quiet cave near the sea, Prophet Ikron was crying, kneeling on the ground.
"Forgive me, O Creator… I failed. They never listened… I did everything…"
Then — a light entered the cave.
Azazel stepped in.
"Prophet Ikron," he said gently, "I come as a servant of the One Creator."
Ikron's eyes widened. "You... know me?"
He stood up, shocked. "Who… who are you?"
Azazel gave a kind smile. "I am Azazel — an angel sent by the Creator."
Ikron dropped to his knees. He trembled. "Then… the message He gave me… it was real… I'm truly His prophet."
Azazel nodded. "You are. And now… the time has come. The people have chosen evil. The Creator has decided. He showed them mercy, miracles, even healed their sickness… but they gave Him gold in return and asked for more."
Ikron took a deep breath. "I understand. So... it's time for me to leave?"
Azazel nodded again. "Yes. Come with me, Prophet."
But Ikron raised a hand. "Please… before we go. Tell me — is there anyone innocent left in this valley?"
Azazel closed his eyes. His wings glowed. His senses reached every soul in the land. Then he opened his eyes slowly.
"…No. All the children have been killed. Tonight, they plan to eat them."
Ikron looked down. A tear dropped from his eye.
"So it ends," he said.
Azazel nodded. "Yes. Tonight... they will drown. The river will rise."
Ikron whispered one last time, "I'm ready, angel of the Creator."
Azazel reached out, his wings opening wide, as the sky above the cave cracked open with light.
Together, they vanished — as the stars trembled above.
After sending Prophet Ikron to Heaven, Azazel returned to Earth. It was night now.
He stood by the edge of the sea — silent… calm… but inside, he knew what must be done.
The time had come.
The end of these people was near.
He raised one hand… and the ocean answered.
BOOM!
Water began to rise with terrifying speed.
With just one command, Azazel unleashed the flood.
But then... he paused.
His eyes saw something strange.
From the land… from the people… from their hearts…
Greed.
Not just any greed… but something alive. It was flowing — absorbing into the gold. The gold itself was pulling in their desires, their madness, their sins.
Azazel's golden eyes narrowed.
"This gold… it's cursed."
He closed his eyes — and suddenly, he saw the future.
A future that made even him shiver.
"This river… this cursed gold… it will rise again," he whispered.
"In the far future, people will find this place. And like before, they will fight for the gold. Out of 100 people, 99 will die… just for this gold."
Azazel clenched his fist.
"Even in the future… their greed will live on."
But he didn't stop. The Creator had given a command.
"So be it," Azazel said.
The waves roared louder. The sea broke free.
And then—
CRASH!
The flood came.
Before the people could even scream, they were swallowed whole by the water.
Instantly drowned.
There was no escape.
But then… something beautiful happened.
The dead bodies of innocent children — the ones murdered and stored — were gently lifted by the earth.
The ground opened… and gave them a peaceful burial.
But for the adults — the wicked ones — they were dragged into the newly formed river.
Screaming, crying, clinging to their gold, begging for mercy…
But there was none.
Azazel stood over the river — now massive and flowing endlessly.
A river so large, it would one day be part of many great civilizations.
And yet… no one in the future would know that this peaceful-looking river had such a dark past.
(Note for readers)
This story is from a different world. It's not based on the real-world beliefs of Christianity, Islam, Judaism, or any real religion.
In this world, the angels are different. There are no "fallen angels" locked away or punished. Some are being redeemed. This is pure fiction — a fantasy.
So don't say, "This didn't happen in the Bible" or "This isn't in the Quran."
Because this isn't that story.
This is a new story. A different world.