The man, dressed as royalty, arrived by sea on a trading ship. He soon became popular among the elite and wealthy circles in the city for the outlandish tales of his homeland, and his cryptic but surely sage advice. Beguiled delight was always found at the turquoise mask he was never seen without.
An illness took hold in the city upon the prince's arrival; one that loosened skin to grotesque proportion. The people implored the visiting noble for his wisdom.
"Remember, I come from Mu." he said as though that answered it all. Taking it much to heart, the city's people began fervent and depraved worship of this unknown land in hopes it would cure the sickness that afflicted them and their families. Trade with other cities soured, and the country's clergy denounced the new worshipping. The lord of the land, needing some way to keep his newly hired mercenaries busy until he had more important uses for them, took it upon himself to siege the town, raze it to the ground and appease the complaints coming from his other subjects. The sick people of the city saw the soldiers at the walls and cried to the stranger for more aid.
"Remember, I come from Mu." was all he said. Dumbfounded by such wisdom, all among them slopped to their knees, worshipping the wise prince as their city burned.
I took ill and was confined to a bed in the furthest wing of the local hospital. My health worsened as I spent my time alone save the occasions when a visitation would wake me from fitful dreams. A wan figure would enter, passing down between the rows of empty beds towards me, flanked by two monastic attendants each holding up the lengths of her vestments to prevent them trailing on the floor. My body seemed to shift and stir on its own accord in response to her presence.
"My dearest." she would say in hushed tones that seemed to emanate from within my own ears. "Fear not, I will be with you always, till the day that you die." The squirming sensation inside me increased as though hanging on her every word.
"I only ask what any devoted lover would. Everything you have left you share with me."
And I saw when the uniformed man opened one of the files, and I heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four monitors saying "Come and see." I saw, and behold on the screen was a white horse: and he that sat on him had a rifle; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer. And when he had opened the second file, I heard the second monitor say, Come and see. And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great missile. And when he had opened the third file, I heard the third monitor say, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand. And I heard a voice in the midst of the four screens say, A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of rice for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the coal. And when he had opened the fourth file, I heard the voice of the fourth monitor say, Come and see. And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and nuclear fire followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with bullet, and with hunger, and with death, and with the infernal machines of man.
King & Son's Oceanic Surveying Co. folded late in the year, unable to stave off the debts incurred by constant delays. The delays were caused by a disturbing casualty rate among the deep sea divers; they simply stopped returning to the surface. The company's assets and few remaining dive suits were sold to a competing group. They scrubbed off the suits' distinctive crown logos and immediately put them to good use in successful dives arranged in the same previously unlucky waters.
During the course of these new untroubled ventures two divers working at the absolute limit of safe diving depth happened upon a building of sorts; some type of oppressive colonnade sheltering a row of seated figures. A tentative investigation discovered that within the building were seated the drowned remains of the missing divers, chained in stone thrones. In front of each corpse drifted bundles of kelp, crustacean meat and other seemingly edible offerings. The dead diver's bodies themselves were coated in a thick layer of silt, with the exception of the still shining, as though regularly polished, stylised crown markings on the dive suit's outer plating.
Upon return, with the intent of winching up the men's remains for proper burial, it was revealed that the entire submerged building had seemingly collapsed, dragging most of everything down with it into an unfathomable trench below.
The accident on the Apollo 21 Lab Station couldn't be contained. Rescue missions sent to the station disaster hurriedly collected the lab's most recent studies of the sun's relations to a quantum vacuum. Unexpectedly the teams broke all protocol and transmitted this data openly and unencrypted. The data was a garbled mess of obscure information and bizarrely outdated language. What could be gleaned from it though were very clear specifications for angles and spectral configurations for viewing specific parts of the sun. Attempts of following these directions using remote viewing from earth through space telescopes ruined the orbital equipment. All other manned orbital stations that attempted it immediately cut off their contact with the earth.
After a prolonged silence the medley of military presences in orbit unleashed themselves unilaterally unto the earth. Orbital kinetic bombardment weapons carved strange symbols across the earth's surface. The attacks on heavily populated areas however were primarily carried out by manned reentry drop-frames: armed suits intended for quick reaction force insertion. Millions of these orbital drop frames blazed through the atmosphere, unfurling into their squat insectoid shapes upon landing. The were covered in hastily painted glyphs. Downed drop frames always proved to have dead pilots hanging limply within.
Their only communications were being piped back and forth between the millions of drop frames: an endless loop of a synthesized voice saying
"Burn a path to earth. Prepare them for the Sun's arrival."