Chapter 1: IRON CITY.

It was the pitiless end of the first age of the world. Day had abandoned its post. Night inked both land and sky. Mankind, for all its bravado, busied itself with petty feuds, mindless of the silent beast that had already eaten and was now digesting it.

I found myself on an embankment overlooking a bog. Huge wheels and hulls of massive equipment were half-sunk or piled in the mire, amid rust-coated water and plants. It was a salvage dump for a civilization once known for its inventiveness, now known for its waste.

A massive cliff city of iron lay beyond the bog, rusted. Its unoiled wheels grated loudly. A cloud of red dust suffocated its internal streets and its recessed buildings. Years before, much of mankind had fled to iron-fortified cliffs such as these and continued life as though the corrupt evening of the world had not overtaken it. Here, crows perched atop the bog's silenced machinery, calling to one another a false tattoo that all was well.

Suddenly, the ground lurched violently beneath me, throwing me onto my hands and knees, knocking the breath out of me. I gasped, struggling to fill my lungs with the bitter, metallic air.

Below, the ground of the bog split open like a ripe melon. One after another, the huge pieces of machinery tipped as though they were behemoths stumbling into the cavernous opening. The fire within the rift looked like a smelter's furnace, with the iron of the rusted machinery adding to its eerie glow. Stagnant water joined the machinery, causing a fry of steam to rise from the molten depths.

In the nearby cliff city, people crammed onto balconies or packed open windows to gape. Many screamed when they saw large, hyena-faced demons coming up from the molten depths and clambering over the falling equipment. These beasts were powerful, swift, and hungry. They headed for the city. At the same time, dark rope ladders uncurled from the second Heaven, allowing sinewy, black demons to climb down. Grappling hooks were slung over their backs so that they could pull themselves over and climb into the iron city once they reached their destination. The cliff dwellers were trapped. Bone-splitting shrieks rose from the besieged city. Horrific! Animal reflex snapped me into a low crouch, ready to run.

It was then that I saw a large straggle of soldiers trudging across a nearby ridge. They were led by a line of exceedingly old men, clad in various pieces of armor. They were riding massive draft horses that looked like they had just been unhitched from the plow, to carry these elderly fighters into battle. The soldiers were in tatters, armed with rakes, shovels, hoes, and other nonaggressive tools. The Elders leading them seemed battle-worn and as ancient as the pieces of rusted armor they wore. Each Elder held aloft a staff from which a faded canvas insignia popped in the agitated air. I could barely make out the names of the various Christian denominations that once emblazoned the fabric.

The sky was black with great red streaks across it as though some animal's claw had wounded it. The sounds of explosions were rolling over the ridge in waves, with a vast dust storm moving in. I squinted my eyes and held up my hand to shield them as I sought to look in the direction of the sounds. Far in the distance, a large city was under-what looked like-nuclear attack, and the blasts of air rolling over us were from atomic explosions. As if they were not able to see or were too stunned to understand, the Elders moved toward the bombings in the city. Flesh-melting slaughter awaited them.

Involuntarily I bellowed "No!" as I ran toward them, waving my arms in a warning to stop. I struggled to run fast enough to reach the last Elder in the line. "Stop!" I cried. "We cannot," the Elder shouted back. The Elder did not look below at the hyena-faced demons swarming toward the cliff city, but I did. I paused a moment, looking behind, as the demons began to scale the slick outer walls. The inhabitants of the cliff city were screaming down at them and throwing anything they could lay their hands on to stop them. It was gut-wrenching but far beyond my help. I shuddered as I turned to continue my run toward the Elders on horseback.

"O God," I choked under my breath, stumbling toward the line. With a final heave, I reached the last of the massive, twenty-hands-high draft horses and grabbed part of its tack in a desperate attempt to steady myself. I could see that those demons would be coming for us next. The Elder on the horse looked down and shouted, "We must rescue those in the great city." "But you will not rescue anyone," I shouted. "They are gone. Rescue those behind you!" Then seeing that I was determined to hang on and be dragged if necessary, he reached down, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up behind him onto the broad back of the horse. "Look behind me," he called loudly. "We can defeat anything. There are thousands of us!" Then seeing that I was straining to turn enough to see adequately, he shouted, "Stand up! Behold our numbers." I had never stood on the back of a horse, but in the panic of the moment, I thought I might be able to stand after all. I needed whatever assurance the Elder was trying to give me. The horse did not flinch as I shakily stood on its rump.

Behind the Elder, I saw a vast number of men and women trying to move forward to confront the enemy. They were naively brave but poorly armed and poorly equipped. Already they were bent down by the blast of a storm that came from a city that no longer existed. The Elders did not understand because they were doing what they had always done. In the past, they had gone out in the name of Jesus; His banners went before them, His Elders led the way.

However, now we needed Jesus. We needed Him leading His army, Him guarding our flank, and Him serving as our rear guard. This battle was too great. Now we must have the Captain of the Host leading His people. The Elders needed to help those that were still following them and still alive. Demons were overpowering many of those on the periphery. These demons quickly stifled the warriors' screams by swarming over and then into them. I remembered seeing nature films of army ants swarming over prey, thousands piling on at once, viciously attacking and devouring them in seconds. Such was about to be our fate. We were not prepared for this level of warfare, nor were the Elders.

From the midst of mounting catastrophe, I looked up to Heaven and cried out, "Father, help us!" Suddenly a huge hand of light reached down from above and began lifting me out of the encroaching slaughter. Exiting the killing zone in this way, I could see further and further afield. The whole world seemed to be burning. The cries of those being terrorized pierced my sensibilities.

"Father!" I shouted into the void. In the blink of an eye, I went from darkness into blazing light. Unceremoniously, I was plunked down before my Father's throne.