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Earth of the Cardinal World – DxD
In the deserts of the land of 'Ad, the children of Sham, the tribe of Ad, lived among dunes so tall they touched the skies. Their homes were not small huts, nor wooden houses, and they did not live in caves. They built their homes from huge stones—mountains of stone carved into houses. Each man's home was like a fortress, standing like a mountain itself.
Every morning, the men gathered to worship their gods—Sada, Samud, and Hiraq. For them, strength was everything. A strong man was respected, but a weak man was mocked and shamed.
In the city center, the men split into groups, boasting about their strength. The elders, who were seen as the "middle-aged," sat on high seats, watching proudly as the young men wrestled and lifted massive stones to show off. Arrogance burned in their eyes. They believed no one could defeat them, because their gods protected them.
But life for women was cruel. Women were not seen as people with hearts and minds. They were treated like tools, like animals, only for bearing children. When a girl was born, some fathers buried her alive in the hot desert sand, calling her a curse. Those who didn't, raised her only to be used later.
A father would force his daughter to bear his child. Brothers shared their sisters like objects. Wives were never truly wives, only bodies. Women's tears went unheard. Their screams vanished behind stone walls. They had no choice, no honor, no respect.
The old suffered the same fate. Once the men who boasted of strength became weak, their families abandoned them. Some left their parents outside in the burning desert to die, thinking it was a waste to feed someone who couldn't fight or build. At the end, they realized how hollow their strength truly was.
When the sun set, the people gathered again before their idols. Enormous statues of Sada, Samud, and Hiraq stood tall in the heart of the city. Fires burned inside massive braziers. They sacrificed babies, men, women, and animals—believing these offerings would grant them more power, more protection, and eternal rule.
The air was always heavy with the smell of burning blood. Arrogance ruled them. They believed they could live forever, if their gods granted them favor.
The men of the Land of Ad always believed women were born only to please them. They thought women were gifts from their gods, given only for their pleasure. To them, women were not daughters, not sisters, not mothers—just animals made for breeding.
A man could take his own sister and force her to bear his child. A father could force himself on his own daughter, saying it was his right. Even mothers were not safe. Husbands grew old or arrogant, but still forced themselves on their wives again and again. If her body was weak and tired, she could only cry in silence. No one cared.
At night, the women cried quietly, their sobs echoing through their houses. But the men only laughed, drinking with pride, and looking at women with disgust, like they were tools. To them, women were no different than a sheath for a blade, or the camels they rode.
Even when the women begged—"Please, have mercy. We are your family, not your slaves."—the men ignored them. They only answered, "The gods gave you to us for our pleasure. You have no other purpose."
The men gathered in groups and bragged. They spoke about whose house had the most women, how many children they forced into the world, and they laughed about it. In this land, many children didn't even know who their real father was. Daughters especially lived in constant fear, waiting for the day their own brother or father would come to claim them.
But time is cruel. The same men who once laughed at women, when they grew old, faced the same fate. When their muscles became weak, when their teeth fell out, when their voices grew shaky, their sons mocked them the same way. They were treated like dirt, just as they had treated women.
Some old men were abandoned in the desert—thirsty, hungry, left to die alone in the sand. The women, still broken from pain, raised the children born from sins forced upon them. Many children grew up lost, not knowing who their real fathers were… because sometimes their father and grandfather were the same man.
This is the curse of the people of AD. They lived with arrogance, crushing the weak with their strength. They used women as tools. And so, their hearts became darker and darker… until their whole land was swallowed in its own sins.
But in their pride… they forgot mercy.
They forgot love.
And most of all—
They forgot the Creator.
But when there is darkness, there is always light too. Even if people try to put it out, it never truly disappears. It will always be there. Because without light, creation itself would end. That is the rule of Almighty God Himself.
Zehra(POV ).
She was born in the land of Ed, a land filled with men full of pride, where women were treated like animals. My own father… I hate to even call him father. He never saw me as his daughter—only as flesh to be used.
I still remember that cursed night when he said to me, "You will carry my blood, my child. One day you'll give birth anyway… so better you give birth to my child."
That night, I ran. My mother helped me escape. I know she must have died at his hands. She sacrificed herself for me, so I could be free of his shadow.
My feet bled on the sharp rocks, but I did not stop. With every step, I whispered a prayer to the God my mother once told me about—the God of Noah. I prayed, I begged, for Him to be real.
And then… I met him.
His name was Samor.
At first, I was scared. He was a man, after all, and all men in Ad were monsters. But Samor… was different. His eyes were steady, his voice calm when he saw me shivering. He wrapped a cloak around my shoulders, gave me water, and treated my wounds.
I still remember his words: "You can stay with me. I will sleep outside. You are safe here."
Safe… It was the first time in my life I heard that word, and believed it.
Time passed, and slowly I began to feel something for him. Love. We were married under the stars—not in front of people, but quietly, just the two of us. For the first time in my life… I was happy.
Samor was strong, yes, but he was also kind. He worked with his hands, he lived with humility, and never once did he boast of his strength. Even when the men of Ad challenged him, trying to crush him, he defeated them easily—but he never humiliated them. Because of this, people of Ad respected him.
And now… as I sit here with my belly heavy, swollen with life, I feel both joy and fear. In one week, our child—our baby—will be born.
But I am afraid. I don't want my child to grow up in this cursed land. I don't want him to live among these mad people of Ad. So I have decided… after the birth, we will leave. Far away. To a place where he can grow free from Arogance.
For the past two nights, we lay outside our small house, far away from the people of Ad. Around us was only sand, cactus, and silence. I looked at my husband now.
I finally asked, "Tell me… why do you never bow to the god of Ad? Everyone does… but you never do. Even I was confused."
My husband only smiled, shaking his head.
"Because I don't believe they are gods," he said. "If they were, they would never allow this kind of evil to happen. I believe in the God of Noah—the true creator. The one who made the sun, the moon, the sky, and all the stars above."
His words struck my heart. My mother used to tell me old stories, giving me hope—stories of a creator who sent prophets when injustice filled the earth.
I touched my stomach and whispered, "The people of Ad… their arrogance, the way they treat women, the weak, and the old… If it's not time now, then when? When will the next prophet come?"
I told him more about my hope, my fear, and my secret worries. Then suddenly—something impossible happened.
The world stopped.
The fire burning outside our house froze in place. The water Samor was drinking stopped in mid-air, hanging between his mouth and his hand. Even our camels stood still, as if frozen in time. My chest tightened.
"What's happening? Why has everything stopped?"
Then a light appeared—brighter than anything we had ever seen. It filled the night before us.
Samor immediately grabbed my hand tightly, standing in front of me as if to protect me.
From the light came a figure. His wings were vast, his presence overwhelming. His voice carried absolute command.
"I am Jebrail. Do not fear me."
We dropped to our knees, trembling, for what we saw was beyond anything human. Jebrail's gaze pierced straight through our souls.
"You, Zehrah. And you, Samor. You have been chosen. You will be the mother and father of a prophet. He will be a sign to your people. If they follow him, they will be saved. If not, they will face the same wrath that fell on the people of Noah."
His voice grew heavier, like thunder shaking the heart.
"Fear not. He will awaken. He will be given knowledge and power directly from the Creator. His strength will be immense. He will destroy false idols. He will bring equality and justice."
And with those words, the light vanished into the night.
I looked at my husband—his face was pale, shocked. My heart raced so fast it felt like it would burst.
The stories of my mother… the God of Noah… they weren't myths. They were real.
And the prophet who was coming—he would be none other than our son.
I held my stomach, trembling, knowing the age of arrogance on this earth was finally coming to an end.