Chapter 1

The Dream of Babylon

The wind carried the smell of dust and desert stone.

Derrick stood on the towering walls of Babylon, looking out across a city that stretched farther than the eye could see. Thousands of oil lamps flickered in the night, their light dancing across mud-brick rooftops and narrow streets far below. The Euphrates River glimmered like a silver ribbon cutting through the vast city.

It was alive with sound.

Voices in the streets. Laughter. The distant clang of metal from a blacksmith’s forge still working long after sunset.

Babylon was the greatest city on Earth.

And Derrick knew it.

He rested his hands on the warm stone of the wall, feeling the heat the desert sun had left behind hours earlier. The stone felt real beneath his fingers—solid, ancient, weathered by time.

Beside him stood a tall man wrapped in dark robes.

Seraphon.

Even without turning his head, Derrick knew it was him. The presence was unmistakable.

Seraphon stood silently for a moment, watching the city below. His long dark hair moved slightly in the warm evening breeze.

“It grows larger every year,” Seraphon said at last.

His voice was calm and deep, carrying the quiet authority of someone who had seen centuries unfold.