Previously on the Chosen People

Mankind was blighted by bloodshed and discord.

Noah was determined to oppose the culture.

Behold, I would destroy them with the earth.

I would bring a flood to wipe this earth clean. I have appointed you, Noah, to build an arc.

Noah gazed at the ark, a towering monolith against the sky, its shadow stretching over the valley.

He watched his sons, no longer boys but men, bound by duty and the promise of

future generations, saw, chop, hammer and sand, the vessel's final touches.

This world is sick. These people are plagued by evil. I know what they deserve, but I can't bring myself to fully accept it.

They're all going to die.

Thousands of creatures, two by two, ran into the ark.

Their hooves, paws and claws, thumping and scratching against the ark's floor.

Flashes of lightning replaced the sun's light, and thunder roared like a predator ready to kill.

The voice of the creator spoke through the tempest.

To the ark, Noah.

Underneath the white noise of falling rain and rushing water, the screams became audible.

Desperate, blood-curdling screams.

Noah ran to the door and pounded his fists against it.

His shouts were surprising to the others.

What's wrong? We made it! If you don't weep at their suffering, you'd know better than them.

Outside, the skies wept and the earth quivered.

God's wrath pulled forth, but it did not please him.

...