Clinging to the Word
Clinging to the Word
In the year 2032, a storm was brewing over humanity, not of nature, but of soul. Nathaniel Hughes, a devoted King James Version (KJV) believer, lived in a small town nestled in the Appalachian mountains. A carpenter by trade, he spent his evenings reading the Bible, standing firm in his faith despite the encroaching shadow of a new world order.
It began with whispers. A World Prosperity Syndicate initiative, fronted by billionaire Gregory Bain and backed by Pope Pius XIII, sought to rewrite the Bible using artificial intelligence. This new text, they claimed, would remove "hate speech" and "errors" to create a unifying, global spiritual guide. For Nathaniel, the news struck like a bolt of lightning. “God’s Word is eternal,” he told his wife, Sarah. “No AI or globalist agenda can rewrite the truth.”
As months passed, the rewritten Bible was released. Churches across the world, enticed by promises of unity and progress, began adopting the AI-generated text. The media hailed it as the dawn of a "New Spiritual Age." Nathaniel watched in horror as friends and neighbors, even pastors he once respected, embraced the new text. “They’ve turned their backs on God,” he lamented.
The WPS’s Darius Fellmark appeared frequently on television, declaring the original Bible obsolete and dangerous. “It’s filled with divisive ideas,” he said, “but this new version is fact-checked and aligned with humanity’s progress.” Nathaniel recognized the spiritual warfare unfolding before his eyes. He gathered with other like-minded believers in secret, reading and memorizing the KJV, determined to preserve the truth.
The turning point came when the global government, under the guise of promoting unity, mandated the adoption of the AI Bible. All other versions, including the KJV, were declared illegal. Churches refusing to comply were shut down, their pastors arrested. Nathaniel’s small group of believers became fugitives, moving from safe house to safe house, carrying smuggled KJVs with them like precious relics.
One evening, Nathaniel’s group huddled in a hidden cellar. He read aloud from Revelation 13:16-17: “And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads: And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.” The words hung heavy in the air.
The implementation of the “Mark of Unity” began shortly after. Without the digital tattoo, people were barred from buying food, accessing healthcare, or working. Nathaniel’s group relied on a growing underground network of believers who shared resources and hid from authorities. Each day brought new challenges and danger, but Nathaniel’s faith never wavered. He often reminded the group, “God is in control. We’re living in the days foretold, and we must endure until the end.”
As Pope Pius XIII continued to champion the new spiritual order, Nathaniel couldn’t help but recall the warnings of 2 Thessalonians 2:3-4 about the man of sin who would exalt himself above all that is called God. Rumors swirled that the Pope had aligned with Bain to unveil a global AI-driven system that would monitor every human being’s thoughts and actions. This system was hailed as the “Pathway to Peace” but was, in truth, a tool of oppression.
Then came the Great Tribulation. Natural disasters struck with unprecedented ferocity. Earthquakes leveled cities, plagues swept across continents, and famine gripped the world. Governments collapsed, and chaos reigned. The few who resisted the new order were hunted mercilessly. Nathaniel’s group, now fewer in number, retreated to a remote cave deep in the wilderness.
One night, as they prayed together, a young woman in their group asked, “Nathaniel, do you think this is the end?” He opened his Bible, its pages worn and fragile, and turned to Matthew 24:21-22: “For then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be. And except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved: but for the elect's sake those days shall be shortened.” He looked at her and said, “Yes, these are the darkest days, but we must endure. Our faith is our light.”
The group faced worsening persecution. Drones scoured the wilderness, scanning for signs of human life. Food supplies dwindled. Desperation loomed, but they clung to their faith. One by one, members of the group were captured or killed, leaving only a handful to continue the struggle. The darkness of the tribulation was suffocating, and even Nathaniel’s resolve was tested.
On the final night of their resistance, Nathaniel and the last remnants of his group sat in the cave, their faces gaunt and their spirits weary. Outside, the world burned. The skies were blackened with ash, and the air carried the stench of decay. Nathaniel clasped his Bible tightly, his voice breaking as he prayed, “Lord, give us strength. Let Your Word endure, even if we cannot.”
The sound of footsteps echoed through the cave. Their sanctuary had been discovered. As soldiers stormed in, Nathaniel stood, clutching his Bible. “You can take my life,” he said, “but you will never erase God’s Word.”
In that moment, the darkest chapter of human history enveloped them. The Great Tribulation had reached its peak, a time of unparalleled suffering and despair. Yet even in the face of annihilation, Nathaniel’s faith remained unbroken, a testament to the enduring power of God’s Word amidst humanity’s darkest hour.