The Mahdi, using the username Muad.dib, makes a cryptic yet powerful post on NellyFan.org, a site known for deep discussions on global events hidden behind the veil of pop culture fandom. His message is simple, but its implications shake the forumโs underground circles.
**๐ฌMuad.dib posts: **
โBrothers, listen well. The time for swords is over. Our Lady of Fatima has spoken. The Americans are already on the verge of bankruptcy. There is no need for jihad against a falling empire. Their arrogance, their endless spending, their warsโthey have defeated themselves.โ
โThe Prophet ๏ทบ taught patience. The Americans? They have none. Their greed has consumed them. Their banks? Rotting. Their leaders? Divided. Their people? Distracted by false idols and meaningless wars. The dollar is drowning, the empire is crumbling, and they donโt even see it yet.โ
โSo I say to youโforget fighting them. Just sit back. Watch. Let them collapse under their own weight. History is a cycle, and Rome always falls.โ
โAnd when it doesโฆ we will rebuild, guided by truth.โ
Within minutes, the post starts circulating across underground networks, intelligence agencies, and conspiracy forums.
Is this just another cryptic message in the void, or is the Mahdi revealing a prophecy already in motion?
God Emperor Trump, draped in his golden robe, ascends the steps of his grand podium at Mar-a-Lago. His followers cheer, their voices blending into a chantโโUSA! USA! USA!โ** The cameras zoom in as he raises his hands, basking in the glow of artificial sunlight from his Trump Solarโข energy panels. Then, he speaks.**
TRUMP (booming voice):
“Let me tell you something, folksโlet me tell you something very, very important. I keep hearing all this doom and gloom, all this โAmerica is collapsingโ nonsense. FAKE NEWS! Totally fake! Completely wrong! You know why? Because we are the most powerful nation on Earth! Still number one, baby!”
The crowd erupts. Trump smirks, soaking it in. He gestures broadly.
“You think China is gonna take us? Please! You think Russia is gonna take us? SAD! The jihadists, the globalists, the hatersโtheyโre all praying for America to fall, but guess what? NOT GONNA HAPPEN! Not on my watch! Not while Iโm in charge!”
He leans in, voice lowering to an intense whisper.
“They say America is broke. Bankrupt. Done. You know who says that? Losers. People who donโt understand strength! America isnโt about moneyโitโs about power. And let me tell youโwe have the biggest, strongest, most incredible power the world has ever seen!”
He straightens, pounding his chest.
“God chose me, folks. I am the Trump Card! The Mahdi, the Pope, the fake news mediaโthey donโt get it. Theyโve been wrong before, and theyโre wrong now! America doesnโt fall. America WINS. Every time. Thatโs what we do! Thatโs what weโll always do!”
He throws his arms up triumphantly.
“So to all the doomers, to all the hatersโjust sit back and watch! Because the Empire of Trump isnโt going anywhere!”
The crowd erupts into deafening cheers. The internet explodes. But deep in the shadows, the world watches.
Is this bravado? Or is it truly the last stand of a fading empire?
Chani stands atop a sand dune under Arrakis’ twin moons, the desert wind whipping through her stillsuit. Her voice is steady, but her eyes burn with something deeperโconviction. She has seen the signs, the omens written in the shifting sands. And now, she speaks.
CHANI (her voice rising):
“I read the prophecy when I was a child. I whispered it to the Mahdi as he slept. And nowโฆ now I am beginning to believe.”
She turns toward the massive hologram of God Emperor Trump, projected above the Golden Tower of New Manhattan. His image flickersโhis robes shimmering, his face contorted in arrogant disbelief.
CHANI (shouting):
“You are NOT the Chosen One, Mr. Trump! You may call yourself an emperor, a messiah, a godโbut the desert does not recognize you! The spice does not flow for you! The prophecy speaks of one who brings balance, not chaos! One who listens, not boasts! One who leads by sacrifice, not vanity!”
Trump scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. His golden robe billows as he steps forward, his voice filling the heavens.
TRUMP (smirking):
“Oh, Chani, Chani, Chaniโฆ you talk about prophecies, you talk about believingโbut let me tell you something, sweetheart, let me tell you something very importantโI MAKE my own prophecies. I don’t need some dusty old book to tell me who I am. I AM the Trump Card! I AM the Chosen One! Ask anyoneโeverybody says it! The best people, the smartest people, all of them!”
The Fremen behind Chani murmur, some stepping forward, others gripping their crysknives. The desert wind howls. She sees it nowโthe moment the veil lifts, when the false god stands exposed for what he truly is.
CHANI (softly, but with steel in her voice):
“The desert will judge you, Mr. Trump. And the desert never lies.”
A sudden gust of wind blasts across the dunes, drowning out the emperorโs reply. The spice in the air swirls, revealing the echoes of a future unwritten.