At the western boundary of the world, in the vicinity of a fearsome black mountain, lay an island. That island was known as Noor. There dwelled a race of noble jinn, created from the light of Noor. They were ruled by a mighty and wise jinn—Qayamat. He was the sovereign king of Noor Island.
Under his firm and uncompromising rule, not a trace of chaos existed upon the island. He had sealed away all demons, devils, and rebellious ifrits deep within the abyss of that black mountain, so that the shadow of evil might never enter the land of Noor.
The jinn of Noor devoted themselves constantly to the worship of Allah. Day and night, they remained immersed in remembrance (dhikr) and prostration, living in harmony and mutual goodwill.
On the other hand, far to the northern horizon lay a city—Pushpa Nagar. A name that bore no resemblance to its true nature. The city was cursed and shrouded in darkness. The leaves of its trees, the grasses of its land, and even the soil itself were all black in color—an embodiment of the sins and hypocrisy of the human heart.
In that city lived a group of humans, most of whom were worshippers of devils. Disbelief, dark magic, and sin were their constant companions.
The ruler of Pushpa Nagar, King Azgar, outwardly pretended devotion, but inwardly he was deceitful. Secretly, he associated with a sect of tantrics. Yet hidden within the city were also a group of dervishes who had long struggled against this corruption; however, they were repeatedly defeated by the dark powers of the tantrics.
The ambitions of the tantrics were terrifying and boundless. They sought to worship the imprisoned ifrits of Noor Island in order to gain immeasurable power. They believed that if the ifrits were freed, immortality would fall into their grasp. Many times they attempted to break the seals of Qayamat, but each time they returned humiliated.
Eventually, they sought refuge in the counsel of an ancient and immensely powerful devil—whose very name, when uttered, caused the heavens to tremble and the air to fall silent.
In a hoarse and grating voice, the devil spoke:
"One day shall be born a child whose veins carry dormant ancient power. On the night of the Tantro-Nishith, if that child is brought to the peak of the black mountain and offered as a sacrificial offering, and if his warm blood is poured around the mountain's circumference, then the seal placed by Qayamat shall be broken, and the imprisoned ifrits shall taste freedom."
Then the leader of the tantrics, Thorkal, fixed his gaze upon the devil and asked:
"Then tell us, O lord of fallen darkness, how shall we find that child? How shall we offer him as sacrifice, and by what hidden path shall we reach the black mountain?"
In response, the devil let out a dreadful laugh that echoed through the cavern, shaking its darkness, and said:
"Listen, O master of tantric arts. On the night of Tantro-Nishith, you shall kill every newborn child born in this city. Preserve their warm blood carefully, and continue this slaughter until the end of the night.
Among those newborns shall be hidden that mighty child whose blood holds the power to shatter ancient seals."
The devil continued:
"With the collected blood, continue your tantric rituals and secret practices until the next Tantro-Nishith night. Then summon me. I shall journey forth with the intent of freeing the mighty ifrits and breaking their seals, granting them liberty."
Having spoken thus, the devil vanished into the depths of darkness.
Within the cavern beneath the mountain, only blood, ritual, and the future of destruction seemed to breathe in silence.
"Fear not, O followers of the path of Allah. The forces of corruption shall never succeed in their vile schemes. Their downfall is inevitable. We sense the arrival of a great power—a sacred force that shall eradicate darkness and bring about their destruction.