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Tongues are running wild over the false prince of peace who is coming to save” everyone. The triple-six microchip reigns as a reward under the little Blasphemous horn. Grain is finished and so is dairy also quickly declining. Food is becoming “boss” and wheat rises as king.

Tongues are becoming loose and people start deserting to other countries left and right. But the political ox remains at his post and America becomes a giant colossus with Russia. Europe beats itself on the chest. But still not ashamed, she cries: Look, I am and remain important. But with her import done, she has only defeated herself.

It is too late to devise a plan. Yes, the time is up, with the great tribulation rising everywhere. Thus the tongues become loose and over the plains the hoofs of the pale grey horse rumble. There is no food, and in the vineyard, no cluster of grapes. Consuming flames engulf towns, cities, fields and forests.

With the Farmer without a farm or homestead, the fields turn into thistles, thorns and bushes. Therefore, wheat is now certainly king and with all this gone, Africa stands completely defeated. Yes, their rule is finally over, forever gone. Multitudes try to stand closer as willing slaves for the sake of survival. But progress and technology have gone far ahead of them.