The governor paced furiously, his voice sharp with frustration. "I didn't expect this from you, Rees! That entity killed your navigator—and you just stood there, powerless!"
Rees, still shaken from the mission, met the governor's eyes with a heavy calm. "We did everything we could," he said. "We tried to shoot it, contain it, even communicate—but nothing worked. It was like our weapons meant nothing to it."
The governor slammed his fist on the desk. "Damn it! Another life lost. Another person taken. And still, we're no closer to stopping that thing."
Rees's jaw tightened. The image of his navigator's final moments still burned in his memory. "We're dealing with something beyond our understanding. We need more than firepower. We need people with strength—not just physical, but something deeper. And... it said something before it vanished."
The governor narrowed his eyes. "What did it say?"
Rees hesitated. "It said it was looking for someone. That it wouldn't leave until it found them."
"Do you know who?" the governor asked, his voice low, tense.
Rees shook his head. "No idea. It never revealed the person's identity. Just that it was waiting."
The room fell silent.
Something darker was beginning—and the entity wasn't done yet.
After a few tense hours of uneasy calm, the sky over the coastal city darkened without warning. A dense, swirling storm began to form near the shoreline, growing more violent by the second. Thunder cracked like cannon fire, and bolts of lightning struck down with such force they shattered entire buildings, sending chunks of debris into the air. Winds howled as the heavens turned pitch black, and panic erupted across the city.
Chaos unfolded in the streets. People screamed, running in all directions, desperate to find shelter. Alarms wailed. Sirens blared. But nothing could stop what came next.
Without mercy, a monstrous tidal wave surged from the ocean—towering, furious, and unstoppable. It slammed into the shore with cataclysmic power, demolishing everything in its path. Buildings crumbled under the force. Cars were tossed like toys. In mere seconds, the wave claimed thousands of lives and swallowed entire neighborhoods.
At the center of the devastation, hidden from ordinary sight, the dark entity emerged. Towering, otherworldly, and cloaked in a shifting mass of shadows, it made its way toward a secret destination deep within the city. It didn't speak, but its presence screamed power. As it moved, its mere aura crushed weak structures, reducing them to rubble. Fear spread like wildfire. The authorities issued a desperate broadcast, warning all civilians to stay far from the entity's path.
In the suburbs, Raphael stood at the front of a quiet house, eyes wide as he saw the darkness creeping closer.
"It's here…" he whispered.
Inside, Izaki, Kazen, and Hellesa were sitting together when Raphael burst through the door. "Get out—now!" he shouted. "Run! It's coming this way!"
But before they could react, a bolt of lightning struck the house. The roof exploded in a blaze of smoke and fire, the walls shaking from the blast. Through the smoke, the dark entity loomed, its glowing eyes fixed on them.
"Finally," it hissed, its voice low and distorted. "I've found it."
Without hesitation, it lunged forward—but Raphael stood between it and the others, his arm raised. A barrier of energy flared around him, deflecting the entity's strike. The entity halted, staring at him.
Recognition flashed in its glowing gaze. It backed away slightly.
Izaki stumbled backward, shielding Hellesa. "Wh-what is this thing?" he asked, terrified.
Kazen, his voice shaking, whispered, "Wh-who is it looking for?"
Raphael didn't turn to them. His voice trembled, filled with rage and pain. "Why?" he shouted at the entity. "Why are you back? Haven't you taken enough? I gave you everything! I sacrificed my life, my family, my soul for you! Wasn't that enough?! Why are you still here?!"
His fists clenched, the air around him humming with raw power. "I know who you're looking for—but I'm not afraid of you anymore. I won't let you take them. Not this time."
The entity seemed to smile—or something like it. Its voice echoed, both mocking and ancient. "I see... You've grown arrogant. You think because you've surrounded yourself with others, you've become strong. You believe that makes you brave. But no matter how much you resist... I will take what I came for."
Its laugh was piercing and cruel—inhuman.
"Heh… he-he-he… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The sound shattered windows and shook the ground.
Raphael stood tall, unflinching. Behind him, Kazen, Izaki, and Hellesa huddled close, confused and terrified, but beginning to understand—this was no ordinary threat. This thing knew Raphael. It had a past with him. And now, it had returned to claim something... or someone.
But Raphael was no longer the man he once was. This time, he wouldn't run. This time, he would fight.
And he would protect them—no matter what.
The dark entity let out a piercing, guttural scream that echoed across the shattered city. "You've grown old, Raphael," it hissed. "But I can still feel your strength. You've become even more dangerous than before. I know… if I fight you now, I'll lose."
Its voice, both ancient and venomous, trembled with frustration and restrained fury. "So I won't fight you—yet. I will return, stronger than ever. And when I do... you won't be able to stop me."
With that, its form began to dissipate. Shadows peeled away from its body like smoke blown into the wind, until, in a matter of seconds, the entity vanished completely into the thin, cold air.
For a long moment, silence fell over the area. The wind settled. The rain eased. Slowly, the tension in the atmosphere began to fade. People stepped cautiously from their hiding places, their fear giving way to tentative relief. But the cost of the entity's brief appearance was devastating. Entire districts had been reduced to rubble, and the death toll continued to rise as rescue teams combed through the wreckage.
Inside the damaged house, Hellesa turned to Raphael with wide, uncertain eyes. "Dad… do you already know that thing?"
Before Raphael could answer, Izaki jumped in, demanding, "And what did it take away from you? What happened in the past?"
Kazen added, voice low, "And who is it after now?"
Raphael's expression darkened. He looked out at the ruined horizon, his jaw tense. "There's no time for questions right now," he said urgently. "We need to get out of here. It could come back at any moment."
The group gathered what little they could and left the house behind, moving quickly through the broken city. Hours passed. The storm had cleared, but the impact remained raw—smoke rising from buildings, sirens wailing in the distance, families mourning in the streets.
Soon, news of the entity's appearance spread across the globe. Images of the destruction flooded every screen. The public, governments, and agencies all over the world were shaken. The entity was no longer an urban legend or a vague threat. It had made itself known—lethal, unstoppable, and deliberate.
Realizing that action was urgently needed, Raphael sent messages to the remaining council members and to Isan. He requested that they all meet at a remote location—a ruined village hidden behind the waterfall, long abandoned and nearly forgotten.
The message was clear: the world could no longer afford to ignore this threat.
The dark entity wasn't just powerful—it was planning something far worse. And if they didn't unite now, there might be no one left to stop it when it returned.
All the leaders of the United Nations had convened for an emergency summit—the most critical gathering in modern history. The recent attack by the dark entity had shaken the world to its core. Entire cities had been damaged, lives lost, and the fear that the entity would return stronger than ever had united governments, militaries, and intelligence networks like never before.
The summit hall was filled with tense silence as the discussion began.
"We must act now," one of the generals declared. "The time for hesitation has passed. We need to form the greatest squad of elite soldiers the world has ever seen."
The motion passed unanimously. Each nation agreed to contribute their best fighters—highly trained operatives from their top special forces units. In addition to the squad, the operation would be supported by a powerful fleet: advanced submarines, aircraft carriers, and some of the most technologically advanced jets ever created, all equipped with state-of-the-art weaponry. Everything humanity had to offer was now being mobilized.
The plan was clear. In a matter of days, the elite task force would be deployed. Their mission: to track, engage, and ultimately eliminate the dark entity.
As the leaders finalized the details, a representative from one of the major powers raised an important question.
"Why did the entity appear near the former chairman of Meteosity's house before vanishing? According to the satellite feed, it moved directly toward him… and then disappeared. Is it working with him? Or is there something else going on?"
The room grew still. Everyone turned to the governor, who had overseen much of the intelligence gathering.
"We considered that possibility," the governor said gravely. "And you're right. The footage clearly shows the entity moving toward the chairman's estate. But it didn't just appear—it destroyed the entire house. And based on the audio feed, it spoke with him before vanishing. Whatever their connection is, it's far from cooperative. Still… he was the former head of Meteosity. We can't take any chances. He may know something."
Another leader stood up and said firmly, "Then let's bring him in for questioning. We can't afford to leave any loose ends."
The governor shook his head. "That's not possible. He fled before we could apprehend him. All attempts to trace him have failed. He's gone dark, likely hiding in a highly secure or unknown location. Our best trackers have no leads. It's as if he vanished off the grid completely."
"Then he's hiding something," the leader snapped. "He might know how to fight this thing. If the entity sought him out, there has to be a reason. Maybe he discovered a weakness, or perhaps the entity sees him as a threat."
"That's a possibility," the governor admitted. "Which is why we've reallocated resources to locate him. If he holds any information—about the entity's origins, its intentions, or its vulnerabilities—we need it."
The room buzzed with the weight of what had just been said. The entity wasn't just a beast of destruction—it had a purpose. And if the former chairman of Meteosity was somehow connected, then he could be the key to ending it.
One thing was certain: the world had entered a new age of war—one not against nations, but against a force beyond comprehension.
The countdown to deployment had begun.
The day had finally come—the day humanity would make its stand. After weeks of planning, political tension, and dread spreading like wildfire across nations, the world had agreed to deploy its most powerful fleet. A force representing every major military power, unified in a single purpose: to destroy the entity that had torn through cities, shattered lives, and defied all logic.
Massive aircraft carriers and heavily armed submarines sliced through the ocean. Advanced stealth jets sat poised on launch decks, while soldiers—thousands of them—stood on board, their eyes reflecting the weight of the mission ahead. As the fleet departed from the harbor, crowds gathered on the shores, waving flags and holding signs. Children raised their hands in salute. Parents, partners, and friends whispered prayers, watching their loved ones disappear into the horizon. They knew this battle could determine the fate of the world.
Hours passed. The sun hung high above the sea, and the ocean was oddly calm. Too calm. The wind was gentle. The sky—clear. Nothing but stillness.
Then, without warning, the air shifted.
The breeze thickened. The water beneath them trembled, and a deep, inhuman hum pulsed through the sea. Clouds darkened as if ink were bleeding through the sky. The calm gave way to chaos. Waves grew violent, clashing against steel hulls with increasing aggression.
From the blackened sky, a vortex began to form. Lightning forked through the clouds, each strike shaking the fleet. And from the heart of that storm, the entity emerged.
It was massive—its form ever-shifting, cloaked in darkness deeper than night, eyes glowing with an ancient, malevolent light. The sea churned around it as though even the ocean feared its presence.
Panic spread like wildfire. Soldiers rushed to their stations. Jets began to roar to life. Anti-aircraft weapons aimed at the sky. But none of them had truly prepared for this.
The entity hovered above the waves, its voice booming across the fleet, resonating not only through the air but within their very bones.
"So, this is humanity's best?" it sneered. "An army of toys and fragile men? You came here with weapons, with hope, with the foolish belief that you could fight me. You seek to save your world from what you do not understand."
The creature's voice cracked into a twisted laugh, one that sent a cold chill down even the most battle-hardened soldiers' spines.
"But you are too late. Your sins cannot be undone. Your existence is your crime, and now—your sentence."
One soldier, trembling but defiant, raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. The bullet screamed through the air—only to dissolve upon impact with the entity's form. It did nothing.
The soldier's eyes widened. "It… it didn't even flinch."
General Hadders, the commander of the fleet, barked an order. "Launch the jets. Fire all missiles—everything we've got!"
Jets screamed into the sky, missiles released from their pods in synchronized fury. Dozens of warheads, each one capable of leveling a city block, soared toward the entity.
Explosions lit up the sky in bursts of red and orange, engulfing the entity in fire.
Silence followed.
And then—it emerged from the smoke, unscathed. Not even a scratch. Its voice, now angrier, echoed once more.
"Did I not tell you? Your missiles, your bullets… they are like dust to me. Futile. Weak. Just like your will."
The soldiers began to tremble. Some dropped their weapons. Others backed away slowly, eyes hollow with disbelief. It was clear—they were not facing a creature of flesh, but something far beyond the realm of man.
"We-we surrender," the general stammered. "Please… please tell us your demands. What do you want?"
The entity paused. Then, with chilling calmness, it replied, "Survival. That's what you humans always choose. You would betray your own blood to save your life. But I want more than your surrender. I want what is mine."
"Wh-what do you mean?" the general asked.
The entity's eyes burned brighter.
"There is someone I seek. One who defied me. One who must return to me. I will take it, no matter where it hides. And you… you shall all be the example of what happens when the world stands in my way."
The general dropped to his knees. "Please, spare us! We beg you—"
It was too late.
The sky exploded as a bolt of lightning ten times the size of any natural storm tore through the clouds and struck the center of the fleet. The shockwave ripped through the ocean. Ships were lifted and slammed back down like toys. Jets caught in midair lost power and crashed into the sea. Fire engulfed everything.
Screams echoed across the water as the lightning continued—relentless, divine in its fury. One by one, vessels erupted. The surface of the sea was no longer blue, but red and black—lit by flames and the shadows of twisted metal.
Then, just as quickly as it had begun—it ended.
The entity vanished into thin air, dissolving like smoke. The sky cleared. The sea settled. The battlefield fell into a haunting stillness.
The only thing that remained was destruction.
Hours later, the footage—streamed in real-time by unmanned drones—made its way to every screen on the planet. News networks stopped regular programming. Social media exploded in horror. Across the globe, people watched the fall of humanity's greatest force.
The feed cut out moments after the lightning struck. Glitches and static filled the final seconds before it went black.
Panic ensued.
Governments went into lockdown. Citizens flooded the streets in protest, fear, and despair. Some wept for lost sons and daughters. Others prayed, knelt beneath the sky as if seeking divine intervention. Schools closed. Airports shut down. Global stock markets crashed. Civilization itself seemed to stagger.
For the first time in modern history, the world felt powerless.
In the ruins of their hope, one truth became painfully clear: the entity was not just a threat—it was a force beyond anything humanity had faced.
The man it was searching for—whoever he was—now held the fate of the world in his hands.
And the question echoed in every corner of the earth: would he come forward… or would the world burn in his silence?
As the last fragments of static flickered across the shattered broadcast feed, a heavy silence draped over the world. It was a silence that carried the weight of devastation—a silence born not from peace, but from horror. The once-confident fleet had been obliterated. The seas were now tombs.
In homes, war rooms, news stations, and bunkers, billions stared at dark screens. Eyes wide. Mouths open. Hearts pounding.
Then, through the silence, it came.
A low hum.
At first, it sounded like a signal failure—an eerie, pulsing noise slipping through the static. But as it grew louder, the world recognized it. Not a malfunction. Not a system error.
A voice.
"You want to know who I seek?" it said.
It was the dark entity.
The words slithered through the air like poison, slow and deliberate, as if each syllable was carved from dread. The voice echoed through devices large and small—phones, televisions, monitors—no one could escape it.
"I see your fear. You think numbers can protect you. Machines. Weapons. Sacrifices."
It chuckled—low at first, then rising into a sick amusement.
"You humans crave answers. You want to know who I will take from you?"
Gasps rippled across every corner of the globe. Mothers clutched their children. Generals stood frozen. News anchors could barely breathe.
The voice dropped an octave.
"I want…"
The screen blurred, glitched with sudden static.
"I want—"
The feed warped again, the voice twisting into inhuman distortion. The very sound felt wrong, like a scream dragged through a grave.
"—̵I ̸w̷a̸n̷t̸…"
Then silence.
Then… laughter.
A laugh that curdled blood.
"Reh… rhe… reh…"
It rose like thunder, a grotesque joy that knew no empathy.
"RHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The laughter shook the world.
And then—
Blackness.
The stream cut out entirely.
No name was spoken. No answer revealed. But the message was clear: someone had been chosen. Someone among the living had just been marked by something no army could stop. And though the name was swallowed in chaos, the fear remained.
Somewhere out there, someone now knew: the dark entity was coming for them.
And nothing would ever be the same again.