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The Middle Times were ending, and the heavens were filled with fire, and The Lord did fight to throw The Daemon out of the heavens.

And the fight was fierce, and the sky was filled with bright flashes of fire, and debris did rain down on the people, and they were frightened.

And The Lord did seem to cast The Daemon out.

And The People did wear clothing, and such armor and helms as they had, to protect them, all painted in the various colors of the desert, so The Daemon might not see them.
And The Daemon did come, as if cast from the heavens, roaring down with a great noise, a frightening wail as had never been heard before.

And The People saw him approach the earth, and they were afraid.

And The People faced The Daemon, and prostrated themselves flat on their bellies; and they turned up their collars, to hide their necks, and they tucked their arms under them, lest the Daemon see their hands; and they bowed their heads, and seemed to kiss the dry desert floor.

But The Daemon knew them, and saw them in the desert, and was displeased, that they had attempted to hide.

And The Daemon released his awful wrath, and The People were terrified.

And those of The People that had displeased The Daemon, by their proximity to him, were instantly consumed by fire, such that all that was left of them, and of their clothes, and of their armor and helms, was a dark stain on the dry, cracked desert floor.

And those that had displeased The Daemon, by casting their eyes on him, were instantly struck blind, never to see again.

And those farther yet from The Daemon, were burned horribly, although they did live, some for a day, some lingering on in awful pain for weeks.
And those farther yet from The Daemon, they thought themselves spared, and that the Daemon might let them live.

And then The Daemon did exhale, in a mighty blast of hot air, so strongly that boulders were tossed across the desert, as a child might skip a rock on a calm lake; and the sick, and the burned, and the wounded, and the dead, were rolled up in the great wave of The Daemons breath, and many were crushed.

And then did The Daemon draw breath, in a wave of air as strong as his mighty exhalation, and more of The People were caught up, and torn, and crushed by the rocks and boulders of the desert.

And then there was a mighty clap, such that many of The People that had survived thus far were struck deaf, and The Daemon was gone.

And in place of The Daemon was a mighty pillar of fire, topped by a huge cloud of smoke, that blacked out the sun, and made the day into night.

And those of The People who had survived, again thought that they had been spared; but many among them did sicken, and their fingernails, and their toenails, and their teeth did fall out, and they did die.

And The People were no more, and only a few, scattered through the desert, did survive.

And the Final Times did begin.