In an era where the dark veil of night merges with the dawn of knowledge, where the boundaries between what is known and the unknown dissolve, a prophecy shrouded in mystery is born. This is the story of a rewritten eternity, a tale hidden in the folds of time, destined to awaken sleeping consciences.

On the horizon of existence, a majestic sign is revealed among the stars: a guardian of light, wrapped in the radiance of the sun, rests her feet on the crescent moon, crowned by a circle of twelve celestial flames. Inside her, the seed of life throbs, suspended between pain and hope, while the shadows of childbirth envelop her being.

From the depths of the cosmos, another vision emerges: a fiery dragon, whose cloak is tinged with the blood of the stars, brandishes seven regal heads, each adorned with a circle of power. With a wave, his tail sweeps away a third of the celestial lights, throwing them into the earthly abyss.

In front of the portal of becoming, the dragon waits, eager to consume the new life before it can scream into the light. Yet, in a breath of suspended time, the guardian’s fruit slips into the world, a warrior of light destined to wield absolute dominion, an iron rod to unite the nations under a single truth. In a flash, the newborn is safe, beyond the veil, at the throne of the Eternal. My North Star literally uses the following words: “And she bare a male child, who must rule all nations with a rod of iron; and her son was caught up unto God and unto his throne.” (see Revelation 12:1-5)

A veil of mystery, as old as time itself, envelops the essence of this son of illustrious and glorious fate. But now, the curtain that has hidden this truth for eons begins to fall, revealing secrets hitherto hidden even to the most vigilant spirits. The star that guides my path speaks these sacred words again in another passage of the most enigmatic text of the Holy Scriptures, offering a revelation of unprecedented strength and hope to my mortal essence: “To him who overcomes and perseveres in my works to the end, I will give power over the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron, and he will break them in pieces like vessels of clay, just as I also received power from my Father; and I will give him the morning star.” (see Revelation 2:26-28)

To me, creature of flesh, fragile and ephemeral, but tenacious and faithful, to me, as victor and guardian of the unalterable truth in the face of the abyss, yes, dominion over the kaleidoscope of existence will be entrusted to me. As the blacksmith shapes iron, so I will forge destiny, shattering illusion as if they were clay jars. From Above, the dawn will be given to me, the lighthouse that inaugurates the new era.

This narrative unfolds like an enigma inscribed in the sacred visions of the eternal, a call to rise beyond the tangible. It is an omen that, through the succession of eras, perpetuates the cycle of emergency and regeneration, weaving together destiny and free choice. The contest between celestial brightness and abyssal darkness, the promise of a new beginning and the longing towards the dawn of a day yet unseen make up the facets of a timeless mosaic, waiting to be revealed in its entirety. This is the prophecy, a corridor between dimensions, a breath of the Creator that directly questions the essence of a chosen among the last mortals, invoking the awakening of the ten virgins immersed in a spiritual torpor, mistakenly confident in their readiness for the imminent celebration with the Sovereign of sovereigns.