Original subtitles

Before the flood.

Before crowns were forged.

Before walls rose toward the heavens.

Before names were carved into stone.

There was an age that time itself tried to erase.

An era in which angels crossed the boundary between heaven and earth.

And a forbidden love opened the path for the birth of something that was never

meant to exist.

They would be called the Nephilim.

Giants of mingled blood, half celestial, half human.

Being so powerful that even the stars seem to fall silent beneath their

shadow.

And when creation could no longer bear the weight of their footsteps,

judgment began to descend like an unstoppable

storm.

This is the story before history.

This is the story of the Nephilim.

The universe remained wrapped in a silence so profound, it felt sacred.

There were no echoes of war, no ruins scattered across the dust of time.

Only the gentle breath of newborn creation.

As if time itself were learning to breathe for the very first time.

Darkness unraveled into veins of gold.

and stars began to rise slowly, ignited like watchful eyes over the vastness of

the void.

Below, the earth shimmered, young, untouched, cloaked in translucent

seas and mountains, still carrying the brilliance of the first dawn.

From the unseen throne of eternity, a voice crossed the cosmos, powerful

as distant thunder.

yet filled with tenderness.

Let the earth bring forth life, and let man walk upon it.

And man walked.

His steps knew no haste, and his eyes reflected a peace not yet broken.

He touched the trees as one speaks with old friends.

He drank from the waters as one receiving an eternal gift.

the wind taught him its songs and every sunrise felt like a promise renewed

it was a world without fear without guilt a world where

creation still sang in perfect harmony with its creator but above the

firmament in the regions where light bends before celestial glory

Some of the angels began to look down with a feeling they had never known

before.

What had once been mere observation became curiosity.

Curiosity turned into fascination, and fascination slowly became

desire.

Among them was Semjaza, leader of the Watchers, wise, respected, yet

restless.

Around him gathered Arakiba, Ramil, Kokobil, Tamiel, Ramiel,

Danel, Ezekiel, Barakajal, Asael, and many others,

beings formed of light, appointed to watch and to guard, yet now drawn

to the fragile beauty of the daughters of men.

On a night marked by heavy clouds and restless winds,

Semjaza gathered two hundred brothers upon the summit of Mount Hermon.

The moon hovered high, casting its pale light upon faces divided between

reverence and conflict.

The silence was so intense, even the stars seemed to wait.

Brothers, behold the world beneath us.

Within them beats something we do not know.

Something denied to us from the beginning.

My desire to know what it is to be flesh.

A murmur passed through them like an invisible tremor.

Some stepped back, fearful of divine judgment.

Others stepped forward, consumed by the same inner flame.

Asael moved ahead, his eyes burning like ancient embers.

Do you seek to defy the Moat High?

I do not seek destruction.

I seek to understand the love that was hidden from us.

The quiet fell again, weighty as stone.

Then, one by one, the watchers extended their hands, forming a circle beneath

the cold light of the moon.

An oath was sworn.

They would not return to heaven.

until they had tasted what their hearts desired.

Mount Hermon trembled beneath their feet.

The firmament tore open in trails of fire.

They descended like living lightning.

When they touched the earth, they assumed the form of men, tall, imposing,

their eyes carrying echoes of eternity.

The daughters of men beheld them and were filled with wonder.

No mortal king possessed such presence.

No mortal voice carried such depth.

Wherever they walked, crowds gathered, and stories began.

The watchers taught forbidden secrets.

Iron was shaped into blades that captured the sun.

Precious stones were carved into radiant ornaments.

The signs of the stars were traced into celestial maps.

Cities rose where fields once lay open.

Towers climbed into the clouds.

Golden altars reflected the dawn, as though the earth itself sought to reach

the heavens.

And then came the children of that impossible union.

The Nephilim were born small.

But they grew like living storms.

Their eyes shimmered with strange light.

Their footsteps shook the ground.

Within years, they became giants.

And the world began to feel the weight of their existence.

Where they walked, creation itself seemed to bend.

They hunted all that breathed.

They ruled herds, cities, mountains.

Men, unable to resist, began to worship them as living gods.

Songs echoed through distant valleys.

Colossal statues were raised in their honor.

Fear and admiration walked side by side, confusing the heart of humanity.

Simjaza, now robed in linen adorned with celestial stones, gazed upon the fruit

of his choice with silent pride we have created something magnificent

heaven fears us and the earth bows before us but assail

replied his voice heavy with dark foresight what we have created

may become our ruin they know no limits

he was right

the hunger of the nephilim grew without restraint first they devoured the

harvests then the herds and when nothing remained they turned against the very

men who had revered them cities once radiant became fields of shadow the

songs of children were replaced by the sound of weapons and thunderous steps

blood ran through the valleys like dark rivers

The mountains echoed with cries even the wind could not carry away.

The fragrance of flowers faded, replaced by the cold scent of iron

and death.

The heavens began to lose their brilliance little by little, as though

an ancient shadow moved through the unseen corridors of the firmament.

The stars flickered.

Clouds advanced like silent walls.

A deep thunder split the air, not like a common storm, but like a summons echoing

from the dawn of creation.

From the heights, A beam of light pierced the clouds and rested upon Mount

Hermon, the very place where the oath had been sealed with pride and desire.

For a brief moment, the wind ceased.

The trees stood motionless. The seas fell silent.

Even the giants paused in their march.

And then a voice, ancient, inevitable, echoed across the earth.

The words did not sound like wrath, but like sentence.

The earth groans under the weight of your corruption.

The spirit of man will not endure forever.

Semjaza lifted his eyes.

Beyond the clouds, he saw the distant reflection of his former wings, not as

they once were, full of glory.

but like forgotten embers struggling against extinction.

His expression hardened.

It was not memory.

It was warning.

And the wind descended cold along the slopes of Hermon, carrying with it the

silent omen of a judgment already walking among them, invisible, like the

night that comes without asking permission.

In the days that followed, the earth became a fractured mirror, caught

between splendor and ruin.

Human cities grew in size and beauty, yet their shadows stretched long across

the soil like scars.

The Nephilim grew even more colossal. Their bodies reached impossible heights.

Their armor shimmered like storms held captive.

Their eyes burned like living fire.

When they spoke, their voices rolled like thunder through ancient mountains,

and men trembled before understanding their words.

Every step they took shook the ground.

Hills split open.

Walls crumbled.

Rivers altered their course to flee their passing.

Entire nations bowed before them, offering gold, livestock, even human

lives as tribute.

Kings laid down their crowns. Priests chanted hymns woven with worship and

despair.

Slowly, the line between reverence and terror vanished, and humanity

began to live in the shadow of what it could no longer control.

The Watchers, enthralled by their own works, continued to teach what was never

meant for mortal hands.

Azazel brought mastery of iron and bronze.

Under his guidance, forges burned like miniature suns, casting sparks that

illuminated entire nights.

Blades were born from fire.

Shields were raised.

Spears split the air for the first time.

And with those weapons came something new to the human heart, organized war,

cold, calculated.

Others revealed ancient enchantments, the hidden power of herbs, the secrets

of the constellations, and paths descending into unknown shadows.

Writings appeared upon black stone.

Symbols were carved into towering temples.

Forbidden knowledge spread like wildfire across dry fields.

Men began to contend for power.

Not merely to survive, but to dominate.

Simjaza stood atop a newly raised colossal temple.

Its columns were etched with celestial symbols, now stained by the smoke of

battle. Before him stretched a horizon of brilliance and decay, gleaming towers

beside devastated fields.

His eyes reflected both pride and unrest.

We gave them the knowledge of the heavens.

We lifted men above their weakness.

Azale approached slowly.

The weight of what he saw made his steps heavy.

He looked upon the city below.

Men fighting one another.

Giants celebrating violence as if it were divine triumph.

We did not raise them, Semjaza. We broke them.

Look around you.

Brothers kill brothers, kings devour kingdoms, and our own sons have learned

to love blood.

Below them, the Nephilim feasted amid rising chaos.

Rivers of wine flowed between blackened columns.

Human sacrifices stained the altars.

Blasphemous chants echoed beneath the sunset died in deep crimson.

Monuments of impossible scale rose stone upon stone, engraved with symbols

resembling twisted constellations.

Their pillars pierced the clouds.

At their summits, eternal flames burned, never extinguished, illuminating the

night like false stars.

Among the giants, one stood above the rest,

Og.

Colossal as a living fortress, his body seemed carved from ancient stone,

scarred by deep and brutal wounds.

His eyes burned like the sun sinking into the horizon.

He wore the hides of monstrous beasts, and upon his head rested a crown forged

of bone and twisted metal.

When he spoke, his voice thundered like a thousand war drums rolling through the

valleys.

Men are weak.

We were born to rule.

The blood of heaven runs in our veins.

The multitude answered with savage cries.

Weapons struck the earth in brutal celebration.

Some of the watchers observed in silence, torn between pride and guilt.

Others turned away, unable to face what they had made.

an empire built on power and doomed by its own arrogance.

Time moved forward like a silent tide, and with it the hunger of the giants

surpassed every boundary creation had ever known.

First the herds vanished, devoured in once fertile fields.

Then came the harvests, ripped from the soil before they could ripen.

Entire forests were crushed beneath colossal strides.

Ancient trunks were reduced to dust as the Nephilim moved like living tempests.

And when nothing remained upon the earth, they turned against mankind.

Villages became ash carried by the wind.

Blood flowed through the valleys.

descending the slopes like dark rivers reflecting an eternal dusk the sound of

tools and human songs was replaced by screams and the distant roar of battle

where life had once flourished only shadows and echoes remained

women wept before shattered altars clutching fragments of idols

that no longer offered hope The sky grew heavy, stained and deep gray.

Even the sunlight seemed to hesitate before touching the corrupted world.

In every city, statues of the fallen were raised.

Figures with broken wings, eyes of gold, mouths frozen in eternal

silence, as if still trying to speak to a heaven that no longer answered.

Men, fearing the invisible wrath hovering above them, began to sacrifice

what they held most precious, believing they could appease forces they no longer

understood.

On a bitter night, beneath a pale moon barely piercing the clouds, Semjaza

ascended once more to Mount Hermon.

The wind cut like unseen blades, tearing at his garments.

carrying the distant scent of smoke and blood.

He reached the ancient stone where the oath had been sealed, and for the first

time since his fall, he knelt.

Lord, if you still hear our voices, forgive us.

We did not seek evil, only to understand what was never given to us.

The silence answered.

No light descended.

No word brought comfort.

Only distant thunder, like eternal doors closing beyond the clouds.

Asel approached slowly, his eyes burning like embers beneath the shadow of the

moon.

His silence is the sign of the end.

We created monsters, Samjata.

And when the heavens fall silent, punishment has already begun to walk

upon us.

As they spoke, the horizon trembled.

Lightning tore across the sky like fractures of light, and an invisible

voice resounded through the darkened clouds, so powerful that even the stones

of Hermon vibrated.

the earth is corrupted before my face man has turned aside

and the sons of heaven have profaned the sacred ground judgment will

come in the days that followed omens spread across the world

the stars lost their brilliance hidden behind veils of smoke strange

winds swept through abandoned fields lifting dust that swallowed the horizon.

The sea roared against the shores like a wounded creature.

The tides rose beyond their bounds.

Even the Nephilim, proud and violent, began to lift their eyes toward the

heavens, uneasy before something their strength could not explain.

And Og, colossal among giants, raised his voice against the burning sky.

He laughed before the gathering storms.

Let the clouds come.

Let the thunder roar.

No god shall destroy the blood of giants.

We are the destiny of this earth.

The Nephilim responded with war cries, banging their weapons against the ground

as if they could defy the heavens themselves.

But while they celebrated their greatness, something different was

happening in the distant mountains.

A man walked alone among devastated fields.

His name, Enoch.

His steps were light, almost silent.

His eyes searched the heavens as one seeking an answer hidden among darkened

stars.

He beheld ruined cities.

stained altars, and violence that had consumed the human heart.

Yet wherever he passed, he carried a different silence.

Not the silence of fear, but of hope that still endures.

Enoch lifted his face to the darkened sky, and his spirit cried out for

justice.

The earth groaned beneath the weight of guilt.

The ground cracked as though trying to expel the evil that infected it.

Rivers ran red.

The air trembled with the echo of innocent voices rising upward like an

unending lament.

There were no songs, no laughter.

Only human sorrow mingled with the roar of Nephilim revelry.

The mountains stood as silent witnesses.

The sky, once clear and radiant, was now covered in blackened clouds, dense

as ashes from the abyss.

They announced that something greater was approaching, inevitable as judgment

itself.

Far above mortal sight, the throne of the Most High blazed with uncreated

light.

Lightning of purity tore across the firmament like rivers of living fire.

Glory pulsed in sacred silence.

Countless heavenly hosts remained bowed, awaiting the word that governs all ages.

It was as though time itself had been suspended.

waiting for justice to cease being promise and become movement.

Suddenly, a radiant light pierced the eternal heavens.

A deep thunder shook the pillars of paradise.

The flames encircling the throne rose like a living crown, and the voice of

the Most High resounded, firm, final, filling every corner

of creation.

The corruption of the earth has reached its limit.

The sons of angels have become demons upon the dust, and the cry of the

innocent has risen before me.

The archangel Michael bowed before the divine glory.

His armor, forged in light, reflected the eternal throne like a mirror of pure

fire.

His eyes bore the strength of war and the serenity of obedience.

The answer came like a burning wind through the heavens, causing the stars

to tremble.

The time of mercy has passed.

Let the messengers prepare themselves.

Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Michael.

Go and purify the earth.

The silence that followed was weighty as eternity.

One by one, the archangels rose before the throne, receiving their charge like

blades placed in their hands.

Raphael was commanded to find Azazel, the corrupter of men, and cast him into

deep darkness where he would teach violence no more.

Gabriel would march against the Nephilim, breaking their tyranny and

freeing the world from the hunger that devoured all living things.

Michael would confront Semjaza and the Watchers, who shattered the eternal

covenant, binding them until the great day of judgment.

And Uriel would be sent to a righteous man, one whose faith still burned amid

the growing darkness.

His name was Enoch, son of Jared.

While heaven moved in silence, like unseen gears turning within a divine

design,

Enoch slept beneath the lonely glow of a single star still piercing the clouds.

The wind passed gently over devastated fields, carrying the distant scent of

smoke and ash, as if the earth itself were whispering stories no one wished to

hear.

That night, Dreams overtook him like living visions.

He saw rivers of fire descending from the mountains, burned wings falling upon

the earth like dying leaves,

ancient voices calling his name through thunder and flashing light.

He saw giants falling, temples collapsing, and a light rising

beyond the storm.

Enoch awoke breathing hard.

His heart pounded like war drums.

The images clung to him, more real than the world around him.

The air trembled, and then a presence descended before him, wrapped

in golden light that pushed back the shadows like sunrise conquering night.

He fell to his knees, overcome with reverence and fear.

Who are you, Lord?

I am Uriel, sent by the Most High.

Have you seen what the world has become?

The blood cries out to heaven, and the time for a response has come.

Arise, Enoch, son of Jared, for you shall be a messenger between man and the

Eternal.

Enoch lifted his eyes.

In the distance, cities burned beneath a gray sky.

Children wept among ruins.

Giants walked like living shadows between broken pillars.

Evil has become law.

How could I, a simple man, speak to those who no longer listen to reason?

For your faith is your sword, and your heart is the echo of God's will.

In an instant, Enoch was enveloped in blinding light.

The ground vanished beneath his feet.

He was carried beyond the known heavens.

Before him opened abysses of fire turning like burning seas.

Mountains of crystal reflecting unseen stars.

Paths of light stretching in every direction.

leading to radiant thrones where beings of glory remained bowed in deep

reverence. The air vibrated with voices proclaiming the name of the Creator,

an ocean of eternal sound, majestic, powerful, yet filled with a peace

no corrupted world could comprehend.

From the heart of that brilliance, a vast angel advanced.

his presence like a restrained storm his wings shimmered like folded lightning

his armor shone like the dawn itself it was michael commander of the heavenly

hosts whose voice carried the weight of battles fought before time began

enoch son of jared the most high grants you the vision of destinies

you will carry his word to those who have fallen Go to Mount Hermon and tell

the watchers that there will be no forgiveness.

Their sons shall perish, and they will not go unpunished. They will be chained

in the depths until judgment day.

Enoch bowed his head.

And if they don't listen to me, then the heavens will speak back to the earth.

When the vision faded, Enoch stood once more among the cold mountains.

The wind blew fiercely, carrying the scent of stone and approaching storm.

His steps led him to Mount Hermon, where everything had begun.

Lightning flickered within the clouds.

The watchers sensed his approach before they saw him.

Semjaza recognized him from afar and descended to meet him.

surrounded by a pale light now dimmed by the weight of regret.

Man of God, intercede for us.

We were foolish.

Our children have destroyed what we swore to protect.

Ask the Almighty to forgive us.

Enoch looked upon him with compassion, yet his expression remained firm as

ancient stone.

there is no more intercession heaven has decreed your end the abyss will be your

resting-place and your children you will see them know the sword of

judgment a deep lament rose among the watchers spreading through the valleys

like a morning wind some fell to their knees others covered their faces their

weeping pierced the new-born night

Falling stars streaked across the heavens, silent omens of destruction.

Simjaza lifted his eyes to the darkened sky and whispered weakly,

So that which we love will be the seed of our downfall.

Enoch turned away in silence, lit only by pale moonlight.

Far in the distance, The roars of the Nephilim still echoed in hollow

celebration, unaware that destiny approached like an unstoppable tide.

The clock of justice had begun to count.

Dawn rose silently over a weary earth. The wind carried the scent of smoke and

iron. The sky felt too heavy to hold the light.

Enoch walked alone through the valleys, bearing the weight of divine commission.

His bare feet touched soil stained with innocent blood. Each step echoed like a

silent prayer.

The world that was once a garden now resembled a vast graveyard of dreams.

the heavens continued moving toward a judgment that could no longer be

delayed.

The firmament opened again, like a veil torn by eternity.

A voice called his name, echoing through clouds lit by lightning.

Enoch, climb higher, for I will show you what is hidden from the eyes

of men.

A whirlwind of light surrounded him, gentle yet irresistible.

The ground vanished.

The wind became absolute silence.

He rose beyond the clouds, leaving the wounded world behind.

Before him stood mountains of pure crystal, reflecting colors no human eye

had ever known.

Rivers shone like liquid fire flowing through celestial valleys.

Angels of immeasurable stature stood motionless, their faces veiled before

the glory emanating from the eternal throne.

At the center of it all was a throne, surrounded by a light so intense that

not even the angels dared to look upon it directly.

There stood, the most high.

His voice sounded like the sound of a thousand waters, and each word

made Enoch's heart tremble like a leaf in the wind.

Have you seen what the sons of heaven have done on the earth?

They have brought in profane wisdom, shed blood, and corrupted the flesh.

Judgment has been set.

Behind the throne, the archangels drew near in solemn silence.

Michael appeared, his flaming sword reflecting eternal fire.

Raphael stood serene, eyes like living flame.

Gabriel unfurled wings, shimmering like molten gold.

Uriel, bearer of the stars, remained wrapped in profound light, as

though the firmament itself rested within him.

Enoch fell prostrate, his face against the radiant ground.

Lord, your justice is perfect. What can I do, dust and ashes, in the face of

such wrath?

The answer pierced him like a burning breath.

You will be my voice.

Again a cloud enveloped him and carried him beyond the visible world.

He was brought to a prison hidden at the edge of creation, a place where light

barely touched the stone.

He saw deep chasms, rivers of fire winding through black mountains, and

eternal chains anchored into rock like wounds carved into time itself.

The air was heavy.

Ancient lamentations echoed through that realm.

Within, the watchers waited, bound, their eyes dimmed, their

faces marked by shame. The weight of judgment was no longer prophecy.

It was fulfillment.

Semjaza slowly raised his head when he saw him. For a brief moment, a fragment

of former glory flickered behind regret.

His wings were restrained by chains of dull light.

His eyes, once filled with command, now reflected only silence and

guilt.

Enoch stood silent.

The sorrow of the plea cut through him, yet the truth he bore was heavier than

mercy. When he spoke, his voice was firm.

Like ancient stone resisting time.

I pleaded for you before the throne. I cried out for mercy.

But your plea was not accepted.

The Most High has already commanded.

They will never rise again.

Your place will be the abyss until the day the eternal flame consumes you.

The words echoed as an irrevocable sentence.

Semjaza closed his eyes.

Silent tears traced the scars upon his face.

Then may our Nephilim also be destroyed.

May the name of the giants disappear forever, so that the world has a chance

to breathe again.

His weeping reverberated through the deep caverns like thunder trapped within

stone.

Around him the other watchers lowered their heads.

The sound of shifting chains echoed like the sigh of creation itself.

The cry of the fallen angels resounded through unseen realms, a lament so

profound that even time would not erase it.

Back in the heights, Enoch beheld the fate of the Nephilim through burning

visions unfolding before his eyes like living fire.

He saw armies of giants turning against one another.

Entire cities consumed by flame.

Seas stained crimson.

the heavens themselves hurling lightning upon the earth.

He saw thrones collapse, idols shatter, the pride of the

colossi crushed beneath the weight of their own violence.

A silent tear fell from his eyes.

The world that the Creator loved has become ruins, but from the ashes the

promise will be born.

Raphael approached quietly and placed a hand upon Enoch's shoulder.

His presence carried a peace that stood in stark contrast to the chaos of the

visions.

Your burden is heavy, man of faith.

But there is still one righteous man on earth.

The Most High has already chosen him, and he will build a new era with his

descendants when the waters cover the mountains.

and violence is washed from the faith of the earth.

Who is he?

His name is Noah.

The words lingered in the air like a living prophecy.

The light surrounding Enoch began to pulse.

For a moment, time itself seemed to pause.

And once more, he heard the voice of the Creator, deep, as an eternal ocean.

Return to Earth, Enoch.

Speak to the men.

Tell them that judgment will come with waters that no giant can contain.

But to those who keep the faith, I will give refuge in the heights.

The vision slowly faded.

Enoch opened his eyes.

He stood once more among devastated fields.

The sun was sinking beyond the horizon, painting the world in deep crimson.

The wind blew fiercely, carrying distant sounds of the Nephilim.

Heavy drums, hollow celebrations, blasphemies cutting the air like unseen

blades.

He walked to the top of a hill. In the distance, cities burned like scattered

embers.

Lightning streaked across the darkened sky.

Clouds twisted upon themselves as though the firmament were inhaling before a

final storm.

Then Enoch lifted his voice with all the strength left in his chest.

Repent, O men, for the waters will come and carry away pride and

bloodshed.

No wall will stand.

No giant will remain standing.

No answer came.

Only thunder rolled across the mountains, deep, inevitable, as

though heaven itself confirmed the prophecy.

Then the world began to tremble.

A deep roar rose from the forgotten depths of the earth.

traveling through mountains and valleys like the awakening of something too

ancient for human naming.

The ground split open, incandescent fissures glowing like living wounds.

The clouds spiraled above, forming towers of fire and shadow.

The air grew heavy, charged with a presence no man could ignore.

Enoch lifted his eyes, and saw a curtain of light descending slowly upon the

valleys, not as rain, but as separation.

Where it touched, the world seemed divided between what still breathed hope

and what was already surrendered to judgment.

It was as though heaven itself was drawing an invisible line between life

and condemnation.

The angels of judgment were already in motion.

The righteous man closed his eyes, surrounded by a growing radiance that

lifted him above the weight of the earth.

His body became light, like the wind crossing the desert.

His feet no longer touched the ground.

Below him, the world descended into chaos.

But around him, Only light remained.

Enoch was taken into the eternal realm.

His name was sealed among those who walked with God.

The sound of the world faded away, replaced by a silence filled with glory

and eternity.

Soon after, the heavens opened in fire.

Thunder tore through the firmament, and bolts of light crossed the clouds like

divine spears.

Angelic hosts descended in perfect formation, their wings reflecting the

brilliance of eternity.

Flaming swords burned in their hands, and the air trembled with the sound of

countless wings cutting through the void.

It was as if heaven itself had decided to walk upon the earth.

Creation answered with chaos.

Mountains trembled, rivers overflowed, and the seas raged against the shores.

Men fled in despair, hiding among ruins, as judgment finally reached the world

that had forgotten its creator.

The wind carried screams, prayers, and the distant sound of collapsing

structures. The Nephilim rose.

Giants born from the corruption between the Watchers and the Daughters of Men

advanced across the devastated plains like living towers.

Their colossal bodies were covered with ancient scars and enormous weapons were

raised against the storm-laden sky.

Some wore armor black as night.

Others bore battle marks that glowed beneath the fire of lightning.

The ground cracked beneath their steps, as if the earth itself were trying to

flee from them.

In the heavens above the devastation, the celestial hosts appeared in silence.

At their head descended Michael the Archangel, like a burning star piercing

through the clouds.

His sword radiated pure fire, yet he did not raise it against the giants.

The command of the Most High was not to attack.

It was to divide.

Beside him came Gabriel the archangel and Raphael the archangel, leading

legions of light that hovered above the earth like a restrained storm.

The world seemed suspended between glory and ruin, as if creation itself

awaited the outcome of judgment.

Michael descended slowly over the devastated plains.

His feet touched the earth among the giants without them noticing.

He walked among them like an invisible wind.

He approached one of the colossi, a massive warrior covered in dark iron and

deep scars.

Michael leaned slightly and whispered something into his ear.

He says you are weak.

The giant lifted his head, his eyes filled with suspicion.

In the distance, another Nephilim walked among the corpses of men and animals.

Michael moved again through the shadows of the battle that had not yet begun.

He stopped behind that second giant and once more whispered.

A single phrase short, poisoned by the pride already dwelling in

their hearts.

He is plotting against you.

He fears your power.

That's why he intends to kill you first.

Prove that you are the strongest.

Why follow someone who is less than you.

He says your strength is running out.

For a moment the world fell silent.

Then the roars came.

The first giant raised his colossal weapon and charged.

The other answered with a blow that split the air like thunder.

The impact echoed across the plains like the collision of two mountains.

Other giants stopped to watch.

Suspicion, distrust, rage.

Michael walked among them like a shadow of fire, whispering here, leaning there.

planting words that grew like seeds of chaos.

Brothers began to accuse one another.

Allies turned against each other.

Within moments, what had been an army became a storm of violence.

Ah!

Gigantic clubs crushed skulls, enormous blades tore through black armor.

Colossal bodies collided with the force of falling mountains, and the sound of

battle echoed through the valleys like the collapse of creation itself.

The earth split beneath their steps like shattered glass.

Rivers were stained with blood.

Giants who once ruled cities now fought like blind beasts in fury.

One fell, then another, and another.

Titanic bodies crashed upon the devastated land like fallen towers.

In the heavens above the chaos, the angelic hosts watched in terrible

silence.

Their wings reflected lightning while the war of the giants grew like a fire

impossible to contain.

Michael lifted his eyes to the darkened sky.

May corruption consume itself!

The war of the giants continued to grow beneath them like a devouring fire.

Gabriel commanded the legions amid the storm.

his golden wings opening paths through the shadows, while Raphael descended

into the depths where Azazel still resisted in silent fury.

Raphael declared with a firm and unshakable voice,

Azazel, spreader of corruption, your path ends in

darkness.

The chains tightened.

and burning stones sealed the abyss like eternal gates closing.

A deep thunder echoed throughout the unseen world, marking the end of an era,

while above, the battle still burned and judgment continued to descend upon the

earth that had forgotten the light.

From the heights of the shattered mountains, Simjaza, once leader among

the Watchers, watched the destruction spreading across the world like a storm

impossible to contain.

The radiance that once surrounded him now trembled, weakened by the weight of

his choices.

His eyes no longer carried pride, only the late realization that what they had

called freedom had become ruin.

The light around him faltered as a presence descended through the burning

clouds.

Michael appeared before him, the sword still blazing, radiating authority and

silence.

The archangel's wings opened like walls of living fire, and

the very air seemed to recoil before the judgment he carried.

You were the first to fall, and the last to understand.

They put not attempt to resist.

He simply bowed his head, accepting what he already knew to be inevitable.

Celestial chains appeared around him like solidified lightning, wrapping his

wings and arms with a cold milk.

Michael raised the flaming blade and with a single motion cast him into the

abyss where the others awaited.

The echo of the celestial rebellions ended in that instant, while above them

the sky continued to burn over a world that would never be the same again.

Then, silence came.

A profound silence covered the world after the fall of the giants.

The wind ceased as if creation itself held its breath.

and even the seas stood still for a moment impossible to measure.

On the horizon, heavy clouds began to gather, slowly turning like living walls

that closed the heavens.

It was the prelude to the final judgment.

Raphael raised his voice among the heavenly hosts, and his words cut

through the air like an eternal decree.

was washed in blood.

Now it will be washed in water.

And the divine gaze turned toward a righteous man, Noah.

Beneath the constant roar of thunder, he lifted the planks of the ark with weary

hands, faithfully obeying the voice of the Most High.

Every strike of the hammer echoed like a silent prayer among the empty hills.

Men around him mocked, pointed, and laughed, unable to understand what was

coming.

Look at this! The old man's gone mad!

An ark?

Here?

Do you intend to sail on the sand?

Perhaps we should bring nets, too.

Who knows?

Maybe the fish will appear in the desert.

Look at him, the preacher of doom.

He says the waters will cover the world, but he builds his ship where there isn't

even a river.

Yet Noah remained steadfast, guided by a voice that came not only from heaven,

but also from deep within his heart.

Then something extraordinary began.

Animals of every kind appeared on the horizon, two by two, walking toward the

ark as if guided by an unseen force.

The sound of their steps blended with the distant thunder.

The ground trembled under the weight of creation gathered together, and even the

wind seemed to accompany that silent march.

And then the thunder announced the beginning of the end.

The gates of heaven opened with a deafening roar.

From the depths of the earth, uncontrollable fountains burst forth,

and the entire world began to be swallowed by the waters.

Rivers overflowed, cities vanished beneath raging currents, and mountains

were covered by waves that rose like living walls.

On the highest peaks, some giants still tried to resist.

Og, consumed by pride until his final moment, raised his arms against the

darkened sky and shouted, Not even the waters of the sky will quench the

blood of giants.

But a colossal wave rose above him like a living mountain and dragged

him into the abyss without leaving a trace.

Humanity ran in desperation to the doors of the Ark.

Hands pounded against the wood.

Voices cried for mercy as the rain fell without end.

Noah heard their cries and tears mixed with the water running down his face.

Lord, have mercy on them.

The earth needs to be purified.

For forty days and forty nights.

The flood covered everything.

Mountains disappeared beneath the sea, cities dissolved into silence, and the

world was washed of its corruption.

The sky and the ocean became one endless gray expanse, without borders.

Then, silence came again.

The pale sun appeared between the clouds, illuminating an endless ocean.

The ark floated alone upon the calm waters.

A living testimony of the divine promise.

Noah opened a small window and released a dove, watching it disappear into the

infinite horizon.

It returned carrying a green branch, the first sign of hope after the storm.

Noah fell to his knees in tears upon the deck and whispered,

Your mercy is greater than the clouds.

Days later, the ark came to rest upon the mountains of Ararat.

The wind blew across the renewed earth, and the waters began to recede slowly.

Among wet stones, life began to sprout again like a timid whisper of restored

creation.

Noah came down and raised an altar, offering a lamb to the Lord in silent

gratitude.

A gentle light descended from the heavens and the first rainbow appeared

on the horizon, crossing the clouds like a bridge of eternal colors, the symbol

of a covenant that would never be broken.

Never again would the waters destroy all flesh.