"Narrated Ibn `Umar:
"The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "O Allah! Bestow Your blessings on our Sham! O Allah! Bestow Your blessings on our Yemen." The People said, "And also on our Najd." He said, "O Allah! Bestow Your blessings on our Sham (north)! O Allah! Bestow Your blessings on our Yemen." The people said, "O Allah's Apostle! And also on our Najd." I think the third time the Prophet (ﷺ) said, "There (in Najd) is the place of earthquakes and afflictions and from there comes out the side of the head of Satan." حَدَّثَنَا عَلِيُّ بْنُ عَبْدِ اللَّهِ، حَدَّثَنَا أَزْهَرُ بْنُ سَعْدٍ، عَنِ ابْنِ عَوْنٍ، عَنْ نَافِعٍ، عَنِ ابْنِ عُمَرَ، قَالَ ذَكَرَ النَّبِيُّ صلى الله عليه وسلم " اللَّهُمَّ بَارِكْ لَنَا فِي شَأْمِنَا، اللَّهُمَّ بَارِكْ لَنَا فِي يَمَنِنَا ". قَالُوا وَفِي نَجْدِنَا. قَالَ " اللَّهُمَّ بَارِكْ لَنَا فِي شَأْمِنَا، اللَّهُمَّ بَارِكْ لَنَا فِي يَمَنِنَا ". قَالُوا يَا رَسُولَ اللَّهِ وَفِي نَجْدِنَا فَأَظُنُّهُ قَالَ فِي الثَّالِثَةَ " هُنَاكَ الزَّلاَزِلُ وَالْفِتَنُ، وَبِهَا يَطْلُعُ قَرْنُ الشَّيْطَانِ ".
- Sahih al-Bukhari, attributed to the Prophet Muhammad in Sunni Islam, 7094, Book 92, Hadith 45.
Vael showed them all to their rooms for their night in the Citadel but before Lupus could enter his Ungar called on him. "Lupus, I need to speak with you for a minute." Lupus followed Ungar and then asked what this was all about. Ungar admitted: "It's about you, you keep chasing power so I think it's about time to humble you. I should have done this with Talus a long time ago; he would have changed a lot sooner if I had." Lupus gnawed his teeth. Ungar said: "You thought the strength of three universes was a lot, try 600,000. Ungar powered up everything when a bolt of energy surged through him; it was the weight of an entire universe." Lupus staggered before Ungar, "No it can't be." Ungar grew more and more powerful. 100,000, 200,000, 300,000, 400,000, 500,000 until finally it was the power of 600,000 Universes weighing down on Lupus dropping him to his feet and bringing him into a cold sweat. Lupus slowly got back to his feet. "What the hell are you some kind of monster?!" Ungar crossed his arms: "This obsession with power will destroy you Lupus, if this won't convince you of that I don't know what will. Have a good night my friend." After this Ungar simply walked away. Lupus walked into his room shaking in a cold sweat and thinking to himself, "No it's impossible." And then in his mind it was now: "the Prophet (Hermes), Talus, the Demons of the Wound, Jellal and his 200 Children, Sun Wukong, Erlang Shen, King Gilgamesh, Lior the Light Crusader and now Ungar," all looking down at him laughing at him from above. He couldn't take it, it was maddening. "This can't be happening, why are these people… stealing away my birthright…"
That night after Hermes drifted off to sleep she saw a man who introduced himself as Hiwi al-Balkhi; he was according to himself a skeptical Jewish Rabbi who died in the 9th century AD. Hermes asked: "Who are you exactly, where did you come from?" Hiwi responded: "I lived in Iran during the 9th century CE, I was a Jew who followed many of the Gnostic teachings my father was a Jew and my mother was a Jewish Christian and a Gnostic, the territory I lived in was under the rule of the Muslims even though I and my parents were non-Muslims. I was a critic of the Bible and Biblical Exegesis, of the stories of Adam, Noah, Moses, Jesus, I criticized Zoroastrianism and Islam as well. I debated Christian Priests, Gnostics and Rabbinical Jews and their Rabbis. When I began to criticize Islamic scriptures and the stories about the Prophet Muhammad the Muslim authorities in particular the Mutazlitie Imams ordered that I be killed as a Blasphemer and I was beheaded. I criticized all of this because I discovered the truth that the Garden of Eden was the abode of the human and demon race and not merely of two fictional individuals by the names of Adam and Eve." The Prophet nodded: "I'm aware, I just learned of this earlier today." Another man was sitting next to Hiwi al-Balkhi, he was a Muslim scholar named: "Shaykh Farikh al-din al-Razi (d. 1209 AD), who was a Sunni Iranian, a member of the Shafi'i school of Law or fiqh and the Ash'ari school of theology and scholar of Kalam." Farikh al-din al-Razi stated: "I discovered through the teachings of Plato in contrast to the teachings of Aristotle that we lived in a multiverse or a group of sister universes, which aligned with the verse from the Quran that states: "Glory be to God (Allah), the Lord of the Worlds." It was clearly that 'the worlds,' referred to multiple universes or multiple worlds. In any event I did know the truth about the Garden until I met Hiwi." The Prophet Hermes nodded.
Hermes stepped closer to the two men, the strange dreamscape pulsing faintly around them, as if stitched from broken stars. "You are both here for a reason," she said quietly. "What is it you want to show me?" Hiwi al-Balkhi leaned forward, his face grave. "You must understand: the knowledge of the Garden—the true origin of the Wound—is older than anything you know, even older than the Outside-God's first decree. You will find in the Ruins of Vezra not only the Seal, but a shard of the Garden itself." Farikh al-din al-Razi nodded solemnly. "It is buried beneath the third spire. The demons encased it in stone and venom to hide its presence. They fear its power."
"Why fear it?" Hermes asked. Hiwi's eyes flashed. "Because the shard is a memory—a fragment of when humans and demons were equal. When the Wound had not yet scarred existence. Whoever holds it might remember that time—and reshape reality itself." The dream began to tremble, dark shapes lurking at the edges. Hermes could hear whispering now, a sound like glass grinding on glass. Farikh placed a hand on her shoulder. "One thing at a time first, deal with the Demon King to the east of the realm of Umi, than the Watchers after that, everything else can be dealt with." An old friend appeared. It was Niffy. "Time for your training, Hermes." In an instant the world was transformed. Zaiyal, Athena, Ungar and Daniel stood their panting as Sarai stood before them laughing. "The King Taipei paid me a pretty penny to get rid of all of you, you're all as good as dead so just give up and lay down and die." But Hermes stepped forward in a case of revisionist history, She declared: "No it's time you fall!" Sarai and Hermes both leaped into battle against one another.
The moment Hermes and Sarai launched at each other, the air split like tearing cloth. Sarai moved first, spinning forward in a corkscrew kick, his heel wrapped in black fire. Hermes ducked low, skimming across the cracked stone, her palms striking upward like twin blades. Sarai staggered back, grinning like a beast. "You're fast," Sarai spat, wiping blood from his mouth. "But speed doesn't mean a thing when you're weak!" Sarai roared, power flooding his veins. The ground shattered under his feet as he surged forward, fists hammering like meteors. Hermes weaved through the barrage, her movements precise, almost mechanical, her breath steady. Then she countered. A flash of silver light flared from Hermes' right hand — the energy of her seal bursting awake. She slammed her palm into Sarai's sternum with a force that cracked the energy around them. Sarai flew back, carving a trench through the earth.
Zaiyal and the others watched, stunned. Evan Ungar, narrowed his eyes. Sarai rose slowly, laughter bubbling up from his chest. His armor—mended itself with a hiss. "That's all you got, Prophet?" Hermes didn't answer. She closed her eyes, feeling the hum of the world. She drew it into herself. Her aura sharpened, and when her eyes opened, they gleaned white-hot. Hermes shot forward. This time Sarai barely saw the strike coming. A knee smashed into his gut, folding her over. A chop to the back of the neck sent him cratering into the ground. Sarai dragged himself up, fury burning through him. "You're nothing!" he screamed. "You're a mistake!" He called on her forbidden art—the Black Heart Pulse—sacrificing chunks of his own soul for raw power. Dark wings burst from his back, and the sky itself dimmed. Hermes stared at him, calm. "You've already lost," Hermes said, voice cutting through the roar of Sarai's magic. They clashed again. Lightning tore through the battlefield. Stone melted. Wind howled. Every blow from Sarai cracked the world; every strike from Hermes stitched it back together. Finally, as Sarai unleashed his final attack—a vortex of black flame meant to erase Hermes from existence—Hermes vanished. Sarai's eyes widened.
A heartbeat later, Hermes reappeared above her, her body descending like a falling star. She drove her fist—burning with the memory of the Garden, the truth of the first wound—straight into Sarai's chest. The impact blasted Sarai into the earth with a scream that tore the clouds open. When the dust cleared, Sarai lay broken, gasping, defeated. Hermes stood over him, hair whipping in the wind. "You sold yourself for a coin," Hermes said quietly. "I fight for something you can't buy." She turned away as Sarai lost consciousness, the battle over, the next war already looming in her mind. Ungar chuckled faintly from the sidelines. "She learned well," he muttered. But then footsteps were heard pattering in the other direction Sarai was running to the spaceship he came in and he took off into the air. Shocking everyone, "Careful!" cried Daniel. "He's going to use that ship!!" Sarai laughed: "It's over for all of you! In 2 minutes this entire planet will be nothing but space dust!" Sarai began to charge up the cannon. Without warning Hermes leapt into the sky with the Spirit Blade, Sarai was shocked "WHAT?!" Hermes cried out: "It's time for this TO END!" In a single strike she burst through the ship causing it to explode and causing Sarai's to fall back towards the earth, the simulation was over. Mission Complete: Hermes reached Lv. 100,000,500!
In the next room, Lupus in his dreams watched the storm and the monsters and felt the cold, gnawing dread rise again. He remembered Ungar's crushing weight, the vision of those mighty beings laughing down at him. Rage swelled in his gut—but it was laced now with fear.
Back on Helios all of the villages of the Idol Worshippers and the Cannibals were destroyed, their house, temples and other buildings were completely leveled and every last soul among them was destroyed there wasn't a single survivor. Nova cracked his neck: "Well boys, I guess the mission's been completed." Zaiyal cracked his back: "Yep I guess we'll head back to the compound. We have a meeting with some ministers from the government, we need to be up bright and early for that."
Back in the Citadel Hermes (the Prophet) continued her mental training. This time she was on the battlefield with Niffy and on one side she was with Daniel, Zaiyal, Ungar, and Athena and on the other side was Narcis (back when he was a warlord). Narcis laughed: "Well, well, well, so this so-called Prophet dares stand before this planet's new king. I have no time for this!! This world will bow before me, all that is before you will be my kingdom!!" Hermes smirked: "We'll see." The sky above the battlefield churned black and gold, as if the world itself sensed the coming clash.
Narcis roared, muscles bulging, power radiating off him like wildfire. With a stomp that cracked the earth beneath, he launched forward, a comet of raw fury. Hermes didn't flinch. Her seal flared again—this time sharper, deadlier. She raised her hand, catching Narcis' monstrous punch with her bare palm. The force shook the world around them, but Hermes held firm. "Your strength is real," Hermes said calmly. "But strength without purpose is just destruction." Narcis sneered, pulling back and swinging a brutal elbow at Hermes' head. She ducked under it, twisting like a ribbon in the air, and landed a brutal kick to Narcis' ribs, sending him skidding backwards through rubble and dust. "ENOUGH!" Narcis bellowed, his aura twisting into a blood-red cyclone. "I AM THE FUTURE!" He threw both arms forward. Spears of pure energy exploded out from him, dozens of them, shrieking toward Hermes. The Prophet drew her Spirit Blade, the edge glowing with ancient memory, and sliced through the barrage with swift, blinding strikes. Sparks rained down like meteor showers.
Daniel, Ungar, Athena, and Zaiyal stood back-to-back, fending off Narcis' summoned soldiers—twisted echoes of those he conquered in life. The ground was littered with broken dreams and broken bodies. Hermes, now glowing with a radiant energy no mortal could fake, stepped through the curtain of chaos straight toward Narcis. Each step sent shockwaves rumbling outward. "You don't get it," Hermes said, her voice rising, slicing through the noise. "Power isn't what makes you a king. Power without a soul makes you a tyrant." Narcis snapped, "Like a care what a weakling has to say. DIE, Prophet!" He summoned his final weapon—an enormous halberd forged from the bones of ancient giants—and charged. Hermes charged too, blade flashing in an arc that split the sky. Their weapons collided. The shockwave flattened mountains in the distance. The force of their clash shattered reality for a second, the battlefield flickering between timelines—one where Narcis ruled the world in flames, another where it was a garden untouched by war.
Narcis pushed forward, veins bulging, teeth clenched. "THIS IS MY DESTINY!" Hermes closed her eyes. And remembered.
She remembered the Garden. The true beginning. She remembered that humans and demons were not meant to rule one another but to live together—equal, free, if it were only possible. Her Spirit Blade flared white-hot. "This," she said, "is your end."
Hermes pivoted under Narcis' killing blow and, with a roar that shook the heavens, drove her blade through his halberd—shattering it—and struck him square in the chest. The impact unleashed a wave of pure memory—images of the old world, of unity, of peace—that flooded Narcis' mind. He staggered, gasping, dropping to his knees. "No," he whispered, "this... this can't be..." Hermes stood over him, breathing hard, the winds howling around her. "Your kingdom was built on fear. Fear dies today." Narcis collapsed fully, his body flickering with the remnants of shattered dreams. The battlefield went still. Daniel and the others rushed to Hermes' side, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were on the horizon, where another storm—the real storm—was brewing. A voice echoed in the distance. Niffy. "Good," she said. "But your real battle hasn't even started yet." Hermes tightened her grip on the Spirit Blade, feeling the weight of the future pressing against her soul. "I'm ready," she whispered. On the screen it flashed: Lv. 250,000,000 Reached!!
Then a box on the screen appeared, One-Time Chance to reach Level 500,000,000,000 Billion worth of XP 'Yes' or 'No.' Hermes didn't hesitate when she clicked the button. On the battlefield a Cyclops shot out a ki blast from his hand towards Ungar it was blocked by Narcis who took the blast to the chest as he began to cough up blood, Zaiyal landed beside them. The creature was about to kill Zaiyal and Narcis in one fell swoop but Hermes appeared glowing with blue energy. The Cyclops laughed: "Foolish little elf, you dare challenge me!! It's time you were put in your place!!" The Cyclops roared, his single eye blazing red as he charged, the ground cracking under each step. His fists were like wrecking balls, his aura a crushing storm. Hermes hovered above the field, blue energy streaming from her body like comet trails, her Spirit Blade humming with barely restrained power.
"You talk too much," Hermes said coolly. In a blink, she vanished. The Cyclops swung blindly, smashing mountains to dust, but Hermes reappeared behind him, slashing her blade across his back. Sparks exploded from the impact, but the monster barely flinched. "YOU'RE NOTHING!" bellowed the Cyclops, spinning around with a massive punch.
Hermes blocked it with her forearm, the shockwave splitting the earth open for miles. She gritted her teeth. His raw strength was overwhelming, but it was wild, undisciplined—a hammer without a smith. "Your power is real," Hermes admitted. "But just like Narcis before you... you're blind to everything else." With a battle cry, the Cyclops unleashed a barrage of ki blasts, each one large enough to vaporize cities. Hermes weaved between them effortlessly, a streak of blue light against the dark sky. She closed in—fast. "ENDLESS RAGNAROK!!!" the Cyclops roared, unleashing his ultimate attack: a swirling vortex of destructive energy that sucked the very clouds into its fury. Ungar, Zaiyal, and the wounded Narcis shielded their eyes, the sheer pressure threatening to crush them, well at least two of them. But Hermes didn't flinch. She raised her Spirit Blade high, now pulsing with golden-white energy—the combined memory of every battle, every hope, every soul she'd fought for. She muttered one word: "Aegis." A colossal shield of light erupted around her allies, saving them from the vortex. Then she shot upward, higher than the clouds, gathering all her energy into the blade. The heavens themselves seemed to split open above her, ancient symbols spinning in the storm.
"This world has seen enough tyrants!" Hermes roared. In a single heartbeat, she dove. The Cyclops looked up, sensing true fear for the first time. Hermes crashed into him like a meteor, driving the Spirit Blade straight through his monstrous body. The explosion was apocalyptic—a blinding pillar of light that pierced the sky, visible from one side of the world to the other. When the dust settled, Cyclops was on his knees, coughing black blood, his massive frame broken, his single eye flickering weakly. "How... how could you..." he rasped. Hermes floated down in front of him, battered but standing tall. "Because," she said, her voice sharp as steel, "I don't fight alone." The Cyclops slumped forward, defeated. His body turned to stone, crumbling into the shattered earth. A message appeared in the sky: "Victory: Hermes has reached Level 500,000,000,000! Obtained new Ability: Aegis 2 Form." Hermes woke up next to Nelly and was greeted by a familiar face, it was Niffy. Hermes was excited: "Niffy you're back!" Nifty giggled: "Yeah I am!! I missed you Hermes, you won the right to use me again when you unlocked Aegis 2." Nelly replied wiping the goo from her eyes: "Niffy?! Are you for real?!" Nifty continued to giggle.
Ungar was standing on top of one of the buildings the underground city or the Citadel was mesmerizing. The city never sleeps — it flickers. Neon signs stutter over cracked concrete. Smog hangs low, thick as wool, hiding the towering spires of rusted steel and glass that claw at the sky. Streets boil with noise: the hum of maglev bikes, the clatter of booted feet, the buzz of endless chatter in a dozen languages. Advertising drones drift between buildings, projecting 3D commercials into the haze — synthetic voices selling dreams no one can afford. The ground level is a mess of patched-together markets, back-alley surgeries, and noodle joints lit by grimy bulbs. Above, the corporations rule from fortified towers, their logos pulsing like gods' eyes in the dark. Rain falls constantly, washing the streets but never cleaning them. Every surface reflects the city's glow: sick greens, radioactive blues, blood reds. Ungar stood there with his arms crossed and was greeted by Mark. Mark leaned over and began smoking a cigarette, "Can I tell you something Ungar?" Ungar grunted as if to say yes. "I've been having visions. I believe the Demon King is finally coming in." Ungar said: "Are you sure?" Mark nodded: "I know I'm the reincarnation of the Demon King and I know he will take over from time to time but I'm worried about the great damage I'll cause. I've spoken to him, at least in his current form, he's nothing short of pure-evil, at least that's what it seems to me." Ungar sighed: "He's an entity that refused to be reincarnated. That is the origin of many demons. To interfere with life's great cycle is of course a great crime." Mark gasped: "Is that true?" Ungar nodded: "Many demons are simply people or sentient beings that refuse to be reborn. Once they've delayed the process long enough there soul becomes black and they seek nothing but power and wrath, the Demon King was forced to reincarnate once, after something like this happens to be a demon its extremely traumatic many of them simply double-down in their evil to avoid a purification of their soul." Mark was surprised: "So you're saying they want to be evil." Ungar turned around: "In a sense, but of course it's a bit more nuanced than that."
Mark flicked the half-burned cigarette away into the abyss of the city. The rain swallowed the ember before it even hit the ground. "So... if the Demon King's creeping closer to the surface, what do I do?" he asked. His voice wasn't panicked, just raw. Ungar's gaze stayed locked on the chaotic skyline. "You fight," Ungar said simply. "You fight harder than you ever have. Not with anger. Not with fear. But with memory. Remember who you are. Remember your choices." Mark chuckled bitterly. "I don't know if I'm strong enough." Ungar turned to face him fully now, rain streaking down the deep scars on his face. "That's the lie the demon inside you wants you to believe." He leaned in. "The moment you think you're powerless... is the moment you hand him the keys to your soul. I would advise you not to even joke about that." Mark nodded nervously. Ungar chuckled: "Relax, tomorrow you, Ebisu and Mamara will be shopping with the girls, it should be fun, it'll give you all some time to unwind and relax, God knows you all earned it," said Ungar. Mark nodded, he walked back to his room without saying a word. That night Hermes had a strange dream of a terrible demonic world. The world is a rotting slab of meat stretched over a writhing skeleton of madness. Skies of shredded sinew pulse like diseased lungs, dripping black ichor onto the steaming, ulcerous ground. Towers of bone and gristle claw at the heavens, stitched together by tendrils of raw nerve and muscle that twitch with a mindless hunger. The air hummed with the endless, low moaning of a billion unseen mouths gnashing in agony. Vast creatures—too large, too wrong to fit inside the mind—lurch and slither through oceans of blood and pus, their bodies a chaotic smear of tentacles, eyes, and gnashing teeth. Logic and physics have collapsed here; gravity tugs sideways, time spasms and jolts, and thoughts themselves rot before they can fully form. Nothing living enters this place by accident. Those who stumble upon it are devoured not for sustenance, but for pleasure—ripped apart and fused into the flesh scape, their minds left awake and screaming inside walls of gristle for eternity. This is not a world made by evil men or angry gods; this is evil made manifest, a cancerous parody of existence where despair isn't an emotion—it's the law of nature. Hermes woke up with a gasp: "What was that?"