The masked figure, still the sole image on every screen, paused. The low hum intensified, vibrating through the air, pressing on the eardrums of billions. A profound, almost unbearable silence descended upon the world. The Seer had claimed truth, and now, it was time for the proof.
"You said you would not believe," the Seer's voice resonated, its modulated tone gaining an unsettling clarity. "You said it was impossible. Now, I will show you. This is what I have seen. This is your future."
Without warning, the screen fractured. It was no longer a rendered figure, but a raw, disorienting montage of video clips, pulsing with a grainy, almost dreamlike quality that lent them an unbearable authenticity. These were not polished animations, but glimpses of terror, ripped directly from Arjun's precognitive archive.
The first clip was brief, but horrifying: a rapid, sickening shudder. Buildings in a Chinese city seemed to ripple, then crack, dust plumes exploding outwards as structures began to buckle. The camera perspective, shaky and almost first-person, tilted wildly before the clip abruptly cut.
Then, a wave of despair. A vast, churning expanse of grey water, stretching endlessly. The unmistakable, pixelated coastlines of Japan and India were visible for a fleeting moment, being slowly, relentlessly swallowed by the encroaching sea, as if the land itself was sinking. The sense of overwhelming, silent inundation was palpable.
The scene snapped to a violent, chaotic maelstrom. The eye of a hurricane, massive and malevolent, tearing through what looked like an American coastline. Trees bent to breaking point, debris flung through the air, the roar of the wind almost audible even through the silent vision.
A chilling shift. A frozen, desolate landscape of Antarctica. A colossal form, half-buried in ice, slowly, agonizingly, began to stir. It was amorphous, terrifyingly ancient, and utterly alien. The sheer, primordial menace it exuded, even in the brief clip, made spines tingle globally. This was the "terrifying new species," far from any known life.
Finally, the most insidious horror. A close-up of a person coughing, then another, their faces pale, eyes glazed. The camera slowly zoomed out, revealing more and more people, their movements sluggish, their faces contorted in silent distress. The perspective pulled back further, showing cities with fewer cars, empty streets, and then, a global map, with creeping red splotches expanding slowly across continents, indicating the silent, relentless spread of a deadly virus. The sheer scale of the looming pandemic was conveyed with devastating simplicity.
The entire compilation lasted less than ninety seconds, a silent, unfiltered torrent of future devastation. It ended as abruptly as it began, snapping back to the masked figure, standing in the swirling, ominous backdrop.
Arjun's voice, devoid of triumph or pity, returned, cutting through the horrified silence of the world. "You may not believe me. But what you have just seen… is true. This is what awaits you. This is the future I am compelled to witness."
A collective, silent scream ripped through the consciousness of humanity. Disbelief crumbled, replaced by a primal, unadulterated terror. The grainy, unsettling authenticity of the visions, combined with the inexplicable intrusion on every screen, left no room for doubt. The Seer wasn't just claiming power; it was showing them the beginning of the end.