ARMAGEDDON POP

In a room shrouded in darkness, a stack of books sat on the shelf by the bed, burning with a hidden flame of knowledge; this was the main sustenance for the writer’s gloomy mind. For some time now, he had been working on his debut novel, hoping it would bring him "inner peace" and perhaps even a breakthrough in his life. His primary goal was to bring order to the chaos that haunted his mind, robbing him of sleep—a torment he usually tried to soothe with music, films, and literature. Typically, he would collapse into a heavy sleep at dawn, only to regain consciousness around noon, unless some particular event disrupted his dysfunctional daily rhythm.

After yet another sleepless night, he finally sank into a lethargic slumber, only to be abruptly awakened by the sound of his phone; his publisher informed him that his novel would be published in a month. The writer was stunned by this news. Under different circumstances, he would likely have been overjoyed, but at that moment, his manuscript was in a fragmented state, much like his thoughts, tangled and drifting in a fog of inertia.

From the depths of the night, a human figure emerged—a man with a briefcase, dressed in a blue suit, probably in his early thirties, with a few lines marking his unshaven face, light-colored eyes, and short brown hair. The mysterious newcomer slowly climbed the steps into the chapel and found himself in front of a side altar, where a nun was standing. As he approached her, she handed him a slip of paper with some information, and he left the church in haste, as if fearful of being seen. He crossed a small park to reach a vast, dimly lit square paved with large, yellowish-white slabs. Scattered benches stood empty under the late-night sky.

The stranger moved across the square, distancing himself from the church, from which, moments later, a few figures in black suits came rushing out. Their leader was a stocky, balding man with a dark complexion, a man with numerous wrinkles on his face, shouting angrily at his men while holding a weapon. By some stroke of luck, the protagonist managed to evade the pursuit, but soon, the police—called by someone—arrived on the scene and were monitoring the area. Eventually, the group of men in black suits ran into the police, sparking a gunfight as soon as the officers spotted the armed criminals.

It turned out that the man was being hunted by the mafia, and in addition to posing as one of them, he had seized secret information hidden in the chapel. Once the mafia dealt with the police, they resumed their hunt for the fugitive, who had hidden in the thick shrubs of the park. Unfortunately, one of the gangsters found traces of his footprints left in the mud. They opened fire, but he managed to dodge the bullets and ran into the church. He quickly locked the gate, barricading it with the pews inside, and then descended into the church’s basement, hoping to find a way out from there.

As he navigated the catacombs, he suddenly had the idea to stop his pursuers by leaving his briefcase, rigged with an explosive, on the altar, and then escape using a rope from the church roof. He emerged from the catacombs to execute his plan, only to discover, to his surprise, that his enemies had vanished. Anticipating they might be lying in wait nearby, he left the briefcase in a visible spot and then exited through a window. Moments later, he heard an explosion echoing from the church gate. Taking advantage of the chaos, he slipped into the park, where he disguised himself as a priest.

As he was leaving the park, he encountered the leader of the gangsters, who studied him closely but, after a moment’s hesitation, concluded that this was not the man they were after. The fugitive then walked calmly across the square and boarded a tram. Unfortunately, the vehicle "broke down" not far along the route, forcing him to search for another means of transportation that could take him to a safer place.

As he was getting off, however, his pursuers confronted him. Using advanced military technology, they “altered his ontic status”—in other words, they took his life with a burst of Kalashnikov fire. Were you expecting a happy ending? Well, one never knows what might happen...

The author decided to take a walk around the city to sort out his thoughts. Absorbed in reflection, he wandered through the streets, paying no mind to the people and shops around him, until something on the horizon caught his eye: a fast-moving shadow, which shimmered in the air before vanishing somewhere in the distance. What particularly caught his attention was the size of this strange being; it couldn’t have been a bird or anything similar. The writer thought he must have imagined it, when suddenly, a dark figure appeared before him, taking human form. This mysterious dark being transformed into...
To be continued