Marked or Sealed

By C.A. Sobey

In the thrilling debut novel Marked or Sealed, a world teeters on the precipice of enslavement through a microchip implant and an army of original fallen angels who seek to find immortality for their offspring.

Hanna must straddle two worlds--the present, where microchips are poised to oppress humanity; and the ancient realm of immortals seeking to build an unstoppable army. She must journey back to the time of the Knights Templar, unearthing the secrets they have guarded through centuries to thwart the Watchers' malevolent plans.

In a tapestry of fantasy, history, and adventure, Hanna navigates treacherous alliances, harnesses her powers, and faces dark forces that threaten her family and all humanity. This work explores courage, love, and sacrifice in a timeless struggle between light and darkness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798891122635

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Acknowledgments

Preface

Chapter 1: Futchen Technology

Chapter 2: The Dream

Chapter 3: Joshua

Chapter 4: Keith Brown

Chapter 5: The Nephilim

Chapter 6: Life or Death or Something in Between

Chapter 7: The Plan

Chapter 8: The Unwilling Transformation

Chapter 9: Eve of the Future Past

Chapter 10: Seth

Chapter 11: De Molay

Chapter 12: The Fickleness of Man

Chapter 13: The Ancient Path

Chapter 14: The Wasteland

Chapter 15: Poisoned

Chapter 16: The Water Guide

Chapter 17: Missing

Chapter 18: Three

Chapter 19: Spirit of the Slave

Chapter 20: Ethiopia

Chapter 21: The Ark

Chapter 22: Betrayal

Chapter 23: Confrontation

Chapter 24: Johannesburg

Chapter 25: Reunion

Chapter 26: It's Time

Chapter 27: Home

Chapter 28: Freedom

Chapter 29: Damien

Chapter 30: Zululand

Chapter 31: The Immortals

Chapter 32: War

Chapter 33: Love and Sacrifice

About the Author

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Marked or Sealed

C.A. Sobey

ISBN 979-8-89112-262-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89112-263-5 (Digital)

Copyright © 2023 C.A. Sobey

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

To my son Michael Van Stan, whose love has given me wings,

and to my parents, Cliff (in loving memory), and Liz, whose love has given me roots.

To the four Js who have been my constant, trusted, and true friends, John Van Stan, Jacqueline Smith, Jane Morris Wright, and Jesus, my Lord.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to those who spent so much time guiding and correcting me, which was often, and for their valuable advice and encouragement, especially in the original drafts:

Ronald Brooks,

Jayden Eales,

Derin Eales,

Bruce Megahan, and

Jacqueline Poisson Towell.

Preface

As the first grains of sand trickled through life's hourglass, earth's foundations were laid, the boundaries of the seas marked off, all of nature's elements allocated their place on earth and in the heavens. Universal laws of order, structure, and balance provided the perfect basis for sustainable life. For a time, faultless harmony existed. Life was perfect.

Then divine beings, angels, took women of the earth as their mates. They became one with man, producing a bloodline of pure evil. Their motivation was to enslave all of mankind and rule the earth. They became demigods, sacrificing their souls to take on human form. Called the Watchers, or biblically, the Nephilim, they disguised themselves as ancient deities, kings, enlightened men, the Illuminati, scientists, rulers, and, later, to remain undetected, they appeared as ordinary men and women.

They planted their seed throughout the ages, waiting for their time. They would hail their long-awaited leader and the beginning of his insidious rule. Their empire would start to grow and take form, preparing them for the final battle. Armageddon!

Would the world even notice his presence? Would they care? Would they even try to resist him, or would they merely follow the Beast to their own destruction?

Chapter 1

Futchen Technology

China

Beijing, the place of the lost sun!

The gray-saturated skies groaned under the burden of never-ending industrial smog, which filled the space between the heavens and earth, choking out the light of the sun's rays with its ugliness, bearing witness to man's neglect, abuse, and exploitation. It is a city where nature has been conquered, consumed, slain, and defiled, but somehow humanity thrived amid the few remaining green trees that have long since lost their avian companions.

Paul was going to be late. He ran his trembling hand through his hair, feeling a fresh wave of panic rising. The civilian wing of the Chinese military office, Futchen Technologies, was still twenty minutes away. The congestion was not getting any lighter; the urban sprawl seemed never-ending. Opening the car window, he breathed in, trying to clear his head, but the stale air made him feel sick. Quickly, he closed it and turned up the air. Perspiration had started to bead on his forehead and between his shoulder blades; anxiety was gnawing at him like a hungry beast. His hands had not stopped shaking since the night before. He felt a grip of irrational fear, like a nightmare that instills terror just long enough to leave its imprint before disappearing like a vapor, leaving a sense of impending doom and images that the conscious mind would never dare to imagine but that don't linger long enough for the rational brain to discredit.

He quickly shook his head, trying to get the crazy images and thoughts out of his mind.

*****

Sitting in his office, Xu Gongsun sighed and checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes. He shuffled papers on his desk, picking up things and rearranging them. He was eager to hear Paul's report. Paul was his lead scientist, and he was due to brief him on the final testing stage of the PSI project, which they had been working on for the past two decades. He knitted his hands together and placed them behind his head. Slowly, he swung around in his overly large leather chair to peer out of his office window. The massive window extended from floor to ceiling. His plush office was beautifully decorated with the most expensive materials money could buy.

Staring out at the busy street below, he watched as the cars drove bumper to bumper, people mindlessly scuttling from place to place like ants in a sugar bowl, all jostling for a place in their flimsy food chain. The endless activity of man and machinery, he thought. He knew if he opened the window, the din from the street below would be deafening. The city was always loud, but in the summer, the heat, noise, and smog made it feel like the sky had fallen in. Every day was overcast; the sun simply never appeared in the Beijing sky. He checked his watch again. Only five minutes had passed.

*****

Sweating profusely now, Paul's panic had turned to nausea. The traffic was at a standstill. He swore under his breath. He detested being here a little more with each passing day. It was chaotic, millions of people crowded into this man-crafted environment; a mismatch of ugliness, layer upon layer of humanity, all trying to find a nesting place. Not only did he hate this city, he hated the project he was working on. Something was wrong, very wrong. He could feel it in every bone in his body, and he was tired. It was a tiredness that was overpowering, draining the energy from the very core of his soul.

Slowly, the traffic started to ease up. Opening his window again, Paul let out an extended sigh; with his arm half draped out of the window, he cleared his throat and spent the last five minutes of his journey practicing what he would say to Xu. He needed Xu and the Chinese government to shut down this program before it killed someone. He spoke out loud, articulating his thoughts, then shook his head. His voice and opinion would not be taken seriously. He was sure of that, but he had to try.

Parking his car in the underground parking garage, he got out, not even bothering to lock the doors. Honestly, he was beyond caring. His mind was a mess. Normally, he was analytical, focused, precise, but today, his thoughts were a shapeless mist, not taking any form. A thought appeared in a moment, and then disappeared in the next. He shook his head again, trying to clear his brain, but it did little good.

Fumbling with his briefcase, he almost tripped on the curb, he put his hand out, trying to steady himself against the wall, and stayed like that for a moment. How was he going to convince Xu, to convince the Ministry of National Defense to discard fifteen years of work, and who knows how many tens of millions of yuan that had gone into this program? Would Xu take him seriously? He had to; this was serious. But he knew Xu. Xu was more interested in optics, and how the public would perceive the project rather than the safety of the project. How many times had Paul tried to challenge him on this and failed? He thought about getting back into his car and never coming back, but he knew the effects this project could potentially have on almost the entire civilized world. It was this fear that kept him moving forward. He looked around for the elevator. The short ride gave him time to compose himself.

He knocked on Xu's door. Hearing a faint response, he opened the door and stepped in. This office had always intimidated him, but today, Paul didn't notice the bold, dark furniture designed to assert power and influence. He stood waiting for Xu to turn from the window. He looked down at his clothes; they were creased. Offhandedly, he tried to brush them out, then gave up. It was having no meaningful effect. His mouth was dry, his head still hurt, and his eyes were scratchy from the effects of last night and the months and months of sleep deprivation.

Ah, said Xu, you are finally here. Then, frowning, Paul, you look very untidy, disheveled. Have you not slept?

No, said Paul, mumbling an apology, trying again to wipe the creases out of his clothing.

Never mind that. Sit. Xu waved to a chair. So, the final testing. How are we on that?

Paul pulled out a chair and sat down, carefully placing his briefcase next to him. He was taking his time, trying to work out how best to go about explaining his concerns.

Paul!

Xu's voice broke through his thoughts. His voice had gone from excitable to a higher pitch, more agitated.

I hope this time, we are on track with the micro implants. I'll be meeting with the European and American leaders on Wednesday and cannot afford delays.

Yes, Mr. Gongsun. Paul bowed his head politely, not making eye contact. The implants are working, but there is a problem. He sighed, and half shook his head. Xu is not going to like this! he thought.

The project they were working on, PSI, was an acronym for Personal Security Implant, and it was now in its completion stage for commercial usage.

Initially, it was a top-secret security project that had obtained its funding from several countries' military budgets. It was intended for the use of military personnel only, to track troop movements and to render assistance to the soldiers in high-conflict areas. Now it was to be marketed to the public. A hassle-free personal security and common currency system that would end credit card and banking fraud. It would replace all keys and locks. The wearer would never have to worry about losing keys ever again. They would merely scan their wrist to access their homes, start their cars, and make any purchase. All credit cards and traditional banking as we know it would be replaced with this new, safe, easy-to-use technology. PSI would be the new currency.

The microchip was designed to be implanted in the right hand just under the skin's surface. The personalized encoded chip also had a neurological sensory mechanism, which would trigger a panic signal should the preprogrammed bodily parameters be exceeded. Elevated heart rate, blood pressure, or adrenaline levels outside the normal body parameters would activate an emergency alarm at the nearest PSI agency. Law enforcement would then be able to respond immediately, having the distressed person's exact GPS coordinates. They could stop crime in progress and assist with an accident or medical emergency within minutes.

PSI, they also argued, had other incredible benefits to the wearer. Medical information and patient history would be recorded on the chip, ensuring that the wearer would receive the correct medical treatment, especially if the patient was unconscious. If kidnapped, or missing, a person's location could immediately be identified, and assistance could be rendered. The benefits were incredible. This was the future.

Problem? Mr. Gongsun's face remained passive.

Yes, sir, the implants seem to be causing some sort of potentially lethal side effects.

Xu eyed him suspiciously.

Paul coughed into his hand, cleared his throat, and then continued. While the test was being carried out, around 10:00 p.m., I initially felt a mild pressure at the base of my skull. I ignored the feeling, but it quickly intensified, to a point I thought I may black out. The pressure and the pain was overwhelming. Paul raised his head and looked Xu directly in the eyes. This is a problem, sir. Something is very wrong with either the programming or the implant hardware. It's defective.

Why do you think this had anything to do with PSI? Maybe you had a migraine, or it was something you ate?

No, Paul said emphatically, almost spitting out the word. As you are aware, my wife and son also have the implants, and the same thing happened to them, at the same time. This is not some random coincidence. It has something to do with the implant. Has anything been changed in the programming, sir?

No, Paul, nothing has changed. As you know, we have done extensive testing. We have never had this type of problem, or any other problem, before. It's impossible, he said, shaking his head. Impossible… The headaches must have been caused by something else. A gas leak?

No…I do not believe anything else could have caused such a sudden attack. It was like our skulls were being crushed. This was no headache. It was terrifying! Damien, my son, is only five years old. Paul's face was worn, haggard, recalling his son in such pain, and his wife doubled over holding her head, barely able to move. I thought they might die, sir. Something in the implant must have been causing this. It needs to be checked out more thoroughly. You have to reschedule the release date until we know what happened here.

Paul, Paul. Xu's voice remained steady and calm. This test was done on… He shifted some papers on his desk, picked up a document, and started reading from it. One thousand two hundred and fifty-four people were subjected to this test last night. I believe all their reports are back, and there were no issues with any of them. Explain to me, Paul, what exactly happened. He folded his arms and cocked his head. Are you and your family feeling okay now?

Paul shifted in his chair. Yes, we are all fine now. The crushing pain disappeared as abruptly as it started. I can't explain it, he stammered. At first, it felt like a strange sort of g-force pressure pressing down on us. It was mild, but then it got stronger, like a heavy weighted feeling, not painful, just sort of impairing. Damien, I think, felt it the worst. He started crying the moment we all started feeling the heaving sensation. Then suddenly, it was crippling. None of us could stand. The pain in our heads was so intense, like nothing either of us had felt before. I was trying to help my wife with Damien, but it was impossible to stay upright. She went down and curled up into a fetal position. Moments later, I was on the floor in the same position. The pressure and pain combined was unbearable—then it lifted. In a moment, it was gone. Mr. Gongsun, I thought we were going to die. My entire family. He shook his head and breathed out deeply. I honestly did.

Xu looked over his glasses at Paul. I genuinely don't believe this had anything to do with PSI.

Paul uncrossed his legs and sat forward. You have to—

Paul, Xu said, cutting him off midsentence. His voice held an authoritative tone. The program has not been altered. The units are the same. No other test subject experienced any problems. This cannot be linked to PSI. Impossible. He pushed his chair back. I am sorry this happened to you. I know how fearful you must have been to see your family suffer like this. But I can assure you, this has nothing to do with PSI. Perhaps you need to see a doctor. See if a medical professional can shed any light on what happened to you and your family. Xu looked down at his desk, wanting to conclude the meeting and get on with his work.

Paul understood that he was being dismissed, fobbed off. He could feel his anger rising, pushing past his fatigue. His tolerance and level of control were being severely tested. Xu was refusing to believe him, blowing him off like he had had a bad headache and was overreacting. All he cared about was the damn program and the public's adoption of it. Something had almost killed his family, and Xu was brushing it off. Did he not care? What if something like this happened on a large scale? It would be putting anyone with the implant at risk. Surely he understood this? Surely he would want to make sure the implants were one hundred percent safe before they were released? Even if they had tested them four thousand times, one bad reaction was too much. It would derail the entire project. Not that Paul cared, he would rather the project never took off, but going ahead with this knowledge was criminal and unethical.

He had never liked the concept or the project, but it paid well, and he needed the money. He ran his hand through his hair, then stared at the back of his hand, a million thoughts running through his mind. The most prominent was how to get the awful thing out of his and his family's hands. He pushed his chair back and got up. Talking to Xu was a waste of time; he needed to talk to the analysts to see if they had found any problems.

As if Xu had read his mind, he stopped what he was doing. I will get the tech and medical teams to go through the data again to see if they find any abnormalities. They haven't reported anything, so I doubt they will find anything, but if it makes you feel better. Xu smiled at him, then nodded a goodbye in his direction.

*****

With Paul out of the office, Xu once again turned to stare out of the oversized windows. The tests had gone exceptionally well. What Paul had just told him was exactly what he wanted to hear. Out of the one thousand two hundred and fifty-four test subjects, three had a controlled response and were now all in good health. Five underwent complete termination, which was swift and efficient; the cleanup crew had already removed all evidence of the disposable components of the experiment.

He was excited about the upcoming conference. It would be hosted at an elegant yet somber auditorium. One hundred and ten of the world's most prominent, powerful politicians were expected to attend. The semicircular tables would bear each person's name on a bronze plate, along with their nationality and title. The delegates would be wearing their finest suits, strutting around like mating ostriches fanning their large, well-groomed egos. As if any of them had any say in the decision to convert to PSI, he scoffed with smug satisfaction. That decision had already been taken by the leading world markets months ago. Perhaps in ignorance, perhaps in greed, or self-interest. He didn't care; all he cared about was holding the controlling hand.

Who would have thought twenty years ago that this would have even been possible. America buying themselves into slavery, using their own hard-earned dollars. Soon, China would own America's economy and have every citizen branded and tracked, working to produce wealth for China. A coup of the largest military power, and without having to fire a single shot. Truly remarkable, he thought to himself. That was one of the many things China was good at: patience and calculated tactical planning. After years and years of planning and waiting, he could hardly believe that it was all starting to fall into place. What still truly amazed him was that, with all the rich, powerful men, brilliant economists, and financial analysts in the US, none of them had seen this coming. Or if they had, no one had done anything to stop it. He shook his head in disbelief.

How had no one anticipated this? he mumbled incredulously.

Chapter 2

The Dream

Hanna

It had started months before. Nothing would ever be the same again in Hanna Maxwell's life, and it started with a dream.

In the coastal town of Durban, South Africa, Hanna adjusted her pillows, making a nest of comfort and warmth for herself. Sleep, she thought, was her favorite pastime. She slept when she was stressed; she slept when she needed answers; she slept when she needed time to herself. Sleep was her escape from the pressures of life. Slowly, she felt herself slip from this world into the welcoming arms of another dimension that promised peace and rejuvenation.

But suddenly, instead of peace, the euphoria of sleep turned cold, bleak, and empty. It became a vacuous place where nothing serene existed. She felt evil all around her, sucking her into a whirlpool of desolation. Icy fingers clawed at her. Rasping voices whispered wicked chants, chanting words that she didn't understand, words that sounded foreign and frightening. She shook her head, desperately trying to wake herself, but this altered state would not let her consciousness return. She was trapped amid shapeless fiends and threatening shadows. The chants grew louder and louder; ungodly screeches filled the emptiness. She tried to hold on to something, anything, to stop herself from free-falling through space. High-pitched wailing jarred her ears. Her falling accelerated to what felt like terminal velocity. Dark, malevolent ghosts of people she once knew reached out to her, then disappeared into the swirling mist of boundless wells of darkness.

Deep within her memory, she recalled this place. It was a place of nothingness. She instinctively knew if she did not resist, it would devour her. She searched the darkness of her dream for answers. This darkness had, in a time past, destroyed those close to her, but this time, she would not allow it!

Her mind came alive. Like a bat swooping out of a cave, she probed the deep void to find her amorphous enemy. She forced her mind to halt the deadly downward descent, the hell-bound dive through the corridors of darkness.

Images started to come into focus. A jackal the size of a horse with the teeth of a lion and the claws and strength of a bear was engaged in a deadly battle—with a crocodile that had the head of a dragon. The crocodile spewed fire out of its mouth. It flicked its massive tail, trying to free itself from the crushing paw that pinned it down. The jackal's immense claws had pierced the crocodile's armor-plated body. Blood spilled from the crocodile's ripped-open side. The creatures reminded her of the ancient Egyptian gods, creatures that were half human, half divine.

A golden Templars' cross hung from the jackal's massive neck. It seemed to be binding it to something she could not see. The crocodile managed to whip itself free. Great tongues of fire sprang from its enormous jaws, burning and scorching the retreating jackal. Ghoulish smells of charred flesh filled Hanna's nostrils. She watched in horror as the two beasts fought a lethal battle, each as deadly as the other.

She was trying to understand the meaning of the dream when she was abruptly thrown backward. Dazed, like a bird flying into a glass window, she froze, then crumpled to the floor, her mind reeling in uncertainty.

An intense light force sliced the darkness, banishing the shadowy black void and the warring creatures. The light force grew and grew, erupting into a brain-shattering brightness that shocked her every