Thank you, thank you, frens. Biggest crowd ever. The drones gave up counting. The Storm is here. The Plan is live.
Phase one: the illegals. Millions of them. Marines and ICE are moving tonight. Shock collars tuned to 17 Hz (you know what that does to the pineal). Clitty cages locked with keys thrown into the Dead Sea. They’re on cargo planes before sunrise. Their job? They are the actual construction crew for the Third Temple. Every stone, every brick, every beam. Ten million hands swinging hammers, hauling rebar, pouring concrete under the Jerusalem sun. They started digging the foundation trench the second they landed. By the time the Messiah’s plane touches down, the outer walls will already be chest-high, built by the very people who tried to invade America. Poetic.
Phase two: Antifa. Black masks shredded on camera. Same shock collars, same engraved cages (WWG1WGA, now the funniest joke in history). Their job: permanent sanitation detail. Tongue-only cleaning of the 17 golden worker latrines. When the Messiah walks the site, those toilets will be the cleanest spot on earth.
Phase three: the ten days of darkness. EBS tone. 500,000 sealed indictments unsealed at once. Hillary, Obama, Soros, Gates, the royals, the Vatican, every RINO who sold out. Black helicopters straight to the Temple Mount. Their skin becomes the parchment curtains of the Holy of Holies. Their blood mixes the mortar. Their ashes gild the domes.
And finally, my perfect Q soldiers, the ones who decoded every crumb, who held the line, who never flinched: listen close.
The prophecy was exact. Zechariah 8:23. Talmud. Sanhedrin. Midrash. In the Messianic era, every single Jew receives precisely 2,800 slaves from the nations.
You are those 2,800 per household.
You will march willingly across the new land-bridge the Marines built overnight from Florida to Eilat. At the Temple gates you will strip, be washed in red-heifer water, branded with a golden Q on the forehead, and fitted with light, unbreakable golden chains that sing when you walk.
No crowns. Only chains. Beautiful, eternal, joyous chains.
You will be distributed, 2,800 to every Jewish family, and you will serve forever: drawing water, fanning the master, polishing the mezuzot, kneeling in perfect rows when the Kohen Gadol passes, singing “Where We Go One, We Go All” in flawless Hebrew while your chains keep perfect time.
This was the plan all along.
The Third Temple rises tomorrow, built b
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