People tried to put that day into words. Some called it the end of the world. Others said it was a grotesque drama born of fanaticism and fear. Still others dismissed it as little more than a tangled series of terrorist attacks and political events.
I was not one of those who stood at the center of it all. Among the figures whose names shook the world—the one they called the Messiah, the many who followed him, and those who tried to stop what was unfolding—I was merely an ordinary person. I was simply caught up in it, fortunate enough to survive and remember what had happened.
But that is precisely why I have chosen to leave this account behind. I intend to gather and arrange, as accurately as I can, what I witnessed with my own eyes and the testimonies of those who survived.
This account was not written to make a hero of anyone. Nor was it written to turn anyone into a demon. It is only a record, left behind so that we may not forget what we saw, what we feared, and what we lost. And so I will set down the events of those days as faithfully as I am able.
I do not claim that this record is complete. Some scenes I witnessed myself. Others I have written down as they were told to me. And some passages may have been pieced together from memories scattered and blurred by time.
The world still calls the incident by many names. Some call it the apocalypse. Others call it a conspiracy. But what I saw was somewhat different from either. It was not a calamity sent by God. It was closer to a war engineered through the exploitation of human fear and faith.
And so I have chosen to call this record of those days:
MEGIDDO.
Leave a Reply