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VIDEO GAMES TRAP FROM HELL | Jesus Christ | YouTubeToText
YouTube Transcript: VIDEO GAMES TRAP FROM HELL
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Summary
Core Theme
The author recounts a terrifying spiritual vision of hell where demons use video games as sophisticated traps to ensnare, addict, and enslave generations of people, particularly children, leading them away from God and towards eternal damnation.
I never imagined that an innocent
pastime could have such dark roots. I
grew up believing that video games were
simple games, modern distractions for
children and young people. But what I
saw during my experience with hell broke
my soul in a terrifying vision. I was
taken beyond the veil. And what I
discovered left a lasting mark on me.
Demons use video games as traps as bait
to seduce, enslave, and drag entire
generations away. I saw it with my own
eyes in the depths of the abyss. And
today I have the responsibility to tell
you about it. Don't mock or ignore it
because what I'm about to reveal to you
could be happening in your own home
right now. Before continuing, write in
the comments, "Christ protects my
children." Declare it with faith because
this war is real and your word can be a
sword against the darkness. When I was
taken away in spirit, I saw a huge hall
in hell lit by giant screens showing
video games of all kinds. They were like
endless arcades, but instead of human
coins, what was being offered were
souls. Thousands of children sat in
front of consoles, their eyes glowing as
if hypnotized, their hands moved the
controls tirelessly, but they weren't
playing. They were slaves, endlessly
repeating the same scenes. Every defeat
was a cry. every victory or deception
that kept them trapped. Small demons
like grotesque parodies of cartoon
characters mocked them, feeding on their
frustration and joy. I saw how many
games had hidden portals, not on the
screen, but in the spiritual realm.
Games of violence opened doors to anger
and hatred. Games of witchcraft and
fantasy were direct doors to the occult.
Games of excess and greed swed greed in
even innocent hearts. Each game was a
sewing. Each level passed a stronger
bond. The angel who accompanied me said
in a deep voice, "What parents see as
entertainment, the enemy uses as
indoctrination, they think they're
playing, but in reality they're being
programmed. The scene changed, and I
found myself in a corridor of hell where
old consoles, cartridges, and discs were
piled up, all burning like embers. I
understood that each generation had been
trapped by its technology. Before it was
arcades, then home consoles, now cell
phone games, and virtual reality. The
enemy doesn't change its plan. It only
updates its tools, and each device was
an altar. Each screen a mirror where
darkness projected its influence. The
most painful thing was recognizing
titles and characters that I myself had
played once without imagining what was
hidden behind them. I also saw how
demons disguised as avatars mingled
within the games. They seemed like
friendly characters, but secretly their
movements were rituals. A cartoonish
demon looked directly at me and said,
"They think they control us with their
buttons, but we control their hearts."
And immediately I saw innocent children
repeating phrases, gestures, and
behaviors that the demonic avatars
taught them. It was a silent
indoctrination disguised as fun. The
most shocking thing happened when I saw
an area where the souls of children who
had died were trapped in eternal cycles.
Some were replaying shooting games,
falling over and over again under
spiritual bullet that burned like fire.
Others were running in endless
labyrinths pursued by grotesque
creatures that laughed at their
suffering. They couldn't stop, couldn't
turn off the console because they were
already part of hell's eternal game. The
angel wept and told me, "The enemy not
only trapped you on earth, he also
enslaves you for eternity. That's why
the warning must be clear. It's not just
a game." As I continued to contemplate
that vision, I saw how the demons had
entire departments dedicated to
different types of games. It was like a
trap factory where each design had a
specific purpose to destroy the children
from within. In one section, I saw
shooting and war games. The demons who
controlled them were dark, armed with
glowing spears, and they fed on the
violence the children absorbed on Earth.
It seemed like simple fun, but
spiritually each bullet fired left marks
of hatred, anger, and blood lust in the
player's heart. The angel whispered to
me, "These games turn death into
entertainment, and when death is
entertainment, the fear of God
disappears." In another room, I saw
witchcraft and fantasy games where
spells and incantations were part of the
mechanics. Demons disguised as wizards
and mythological creatures laughed out
loud because every time a child cast a
spell in the game, they were uttering
words in their spirit that opened doors
to darkness. Parents would say, "It's
just their imagination." But what they
didn't know was that those words, even
if they were virtual, were translated as
packs in the invisible world. I saw
burning scrolls where those invocations
were recorded and each one was used as
evidence in hell to claim their souls. I
also saw a section of games of
simulation and greed. There children
built empires, accumulated wealth, and
bought and sold endlessly spiritually.
Those games were traps that sowed greed,
unbridled ambition, and the love of
money. Demons who looked like dark
bankers whispered to them, "You will be
great. You will have everything. You
will own the world. And the children
grew up with a constant emptiness,
always seeking more, never satisfied.
The angel told me, "This is how they
prepare hearts to love the world and
forget eternity. The most disturbing
thing was seeing the section of games
full of perversion and sexualization.
Provocative words, dirty dialogue, and
scenes full of lust were used as bait.
Demons with grotesque bodies, half
cartoon and half human, dragged the
little ones in with obscene laughter. I
saw how even children who had never
heard those words at home were taught
perversity through an online game. In
the spirit, each click was like a
burning altar. I saw rivers of fire
connecting those consoles directly to
abysses of filth and thousands of
teenage souls trapped there, unable to
escape. The angel then showed me the
strategy of addiction. I saw how the
demons manipulated the game so they
would never end. Infinite levels,
rewards that kept the children connected
for hours and hours in front of the
screen. Physically, it was the desire to
play more. But spiritually, they were
chains that tightened with every
additional minute. Some children didn't
eat, didn't sleep, didn't speak to their
families because the enemy had already
isolated them in a virtual world. In
hell, those souls sat in front of
eternal consoles, repeating the same
frustration over and over again, without
rest, without pause, without hope. I
also saw how online video games were
used as social networks. Demonic
children spoke with strangers who in the
spiritual realm were demons disguised as
friends. These conversations seemed
harmless. But in the occult, they sowed
rebellion against parents, contempt for
authority, and opened the door to
greater deception. I saw a child listen
to advice from a gamer who told him,
"Don't obey. Do what you want. Your
parents don't understand anything in the
spiritual realm." That voice was a demon
sewing seeds of disobedience that would
grow like thorns in his heart. The
saddest thing was when I saw entire
homes collapse because of these games.
Parents tried to talk to their children,
but they were trapped in the screen,
unable to let go of the controller.
Spiritually, every attempted
communication was blocked by demons who
intervened, filling the environment with
shouting, anger, and distance. The angel
told me, "This is the enemy's plan to
isolate the children, to break up the
family, because he knows that a divided
family expresses itself easily." And I
saw how many tired parents simply gave
up, handing over the upbringing of their
children to the console without
realizing that they were handing them
over to hell itself. The angel with a
broken voice told me, "Not all video
games are bad, but the enemy has
infiltrated them so that even the good
ones are used as bait. If parents don't
watch, if they don't pray, if they don't
teach the word, their children will fall
like sheep to the slaughter." And then I
saw a heartbreaking scene. A little boy
playing joyfully with no apparent
malice. But behind him was a dark shadow
that slowly enveloped him. That shadow
didn't scream, didn't scare him. It only
lulled him with lights and sounds. It
was the spirit of addiction. And once it
caught him, it dragged him into the
abyss. The vision became even more
terrifying. When the angel took me to a
deeper part of hell, there were no
modern consoles or luminous screens, but
entire prisons designed in the form of
eternal video games. Each cell was a
level, each torment an endless game. I
saw thousands of children and teenagers
who in life had been trapped by those
games. Now condemned to play them for
eternity. But without fun, without rest,
without hope, what was once
entertainment in the abyss had become
torture. I saw a group of souls running
in a shooting game. They were chased by
giant shadows that never tired. Every
time they fell under the fiery bullets,
their pain was unbearable, but they
would instantly get up only to repeat
the same sentence. They couldn't get
out. They couldn't turn off the system
because they themselves had become part
of the game. And the demons mocked, "You
wanted to play all night. Now you'll
play forever." That phrase reverberated
like an echo in every corner. In another
section, I saw games of magic and
fantasy, but there the spells were real
chains. The children were forced to
repeat incantations over and over again,
and every word that came from their lips
lit a fire in their throats. They were
enslaved to the witchcraft they had once
played for fun. Demons in black robes
laughed, saying, "They opened the door.
We just walked in." It was like an
eternal ritual where innocents were used
as unwitting priests of hell. I also saw
a place where games of greed had
transformed into torments of eternal
covetousness. Souls found themselves in
a dark market, chasing coins that burned
in their hands. Every time they tried to
buy something, the object turned to ash.
They ran around in despair, accumulating
riches they could never enjoy. The angel
told me, "Such is the fate of those who
love money. They always seek more, but
they never find peace. Spiritually those
children had learned from a young age to
covet. And now that covetousness was
their eternal prison, it was
heartbreaking to contemplate the lust
area. Children and adolescents who had
fallen into games tainted with
perversion were now chained to scenes
that were endlessly repeated. Their eyes
burned like hot coals, forced to stare
at images of corruption they couldn't
tear away. Each glance was a whip that
tore at their souls. Demons in grotesque
forms lashed them, saying, "You asked
for it. You played it. Now this is yours
forever. Lust, which had once seemed
like innocent fun, became an unbearable
torment that never ended." The angel
showed me another room. There, the
addiction games were recreated as
eternal labyrinths. Children ran
tirelessly, looking for exits that never
appeared. Each corridor seemed identical
to the last, each door a deception. They
screamed for help, but their voices
bounced off walls that laughed at their
pain. The demons followed close behind,
whispering, "One more level, one more
try. You'll never stop." I realized that
addiction doesn't end with death, but
rather in hell, it multiplies in the
form of eternal slavery. What broke my
heart was seeing some of those children
calling out the name of Jesus. But it
was too late. Their voices were muffled
by demonic laughter. The angel wept with
me and said they had a chance in life.
They listened to the warnings, but they
were dismissed as hype. Now what was
once a game has become their
condemnation. I felt indescribable pain
because I understood that many parents
today are still letting their children
play with fire. Without realizing it, I
then saw a gigantic demon who looked
like a programmer from hell. His fingers
were like burning keys. And with each
touch, he created new levels of torment.
Behind him were screens where even
darker games were being designed,
prepared for future generations. The
angel told me, "The enemy never stops.
He perfects his traps, makes them more
attractive, and disguises them better.
What you saw so far is not the end. It's
just the beginning. The last thing I saw
on that block was a crowd of demons
celebrating in front of those video game
prisons. They shouted like fans in a
stadium raising chains as if they were
trophies. And I understood that just as
heaven celebrates every soul that is
saved, hell celebrates every child who
falls into its trap, they weren't just
simple players. They were eternal
trophies of the enemy. When I thought I
could no longer bear the pain of what I
was seeing, a voice from heaven told me,
"Look also at what happens on earth,
because what is sown already flourishes
here below." And suddenly the vision
changed. I saw homes full of consoles,
giant screens, and children with
headphones on, disconnected from
everything around them. Their parents,
preoccupied with their own problems,
believed it was harmless, that games
were just a distraction. Didn't they
know that in the spiritual world, every
game was connecting their children to
invisible cords that dragged them toward
the abyss? The angel showed me how some
games were directly inspired by hellish
designs, characters that promoted
witchcraft, unlimited violence,
rebellion against authority. I saw
demons blowing ideas to the creators,
inspiring plots and levels that seemed
like simple fantasy stories, but were
actually open doors to spirits of
control and pedition. They think they're
inventing, but they only reproduce what
we show them. A mocking demon who
appeared in the vision told me, and the
angel protected me with his light. I
also saw thousands of young people
trapped in virtual rooms communicating
with strangers who were not human but
entities in disguise. Dark spirits posed
as playmates. So in hatred, suicidal
thoughts, and mockery of God, many of
these children received their first
temptation through a simple online game.
The enemy had perfected his trap. He no
longer needed dark rituals in caves. Now
all it took was a click and an internet
connection. The most terrifying thing
was when the angel took me to a
spiritual stadium where the demons
displayed their victims as trophies.
Each lost child was shown as an
achievement, a victory over heaven. I
saw hellish banners that read. Another
trapped by addiction, another seduced by
violence, another sold to lust. The
demons screamed and celebrated as if it
were a championship game. It was a cruel
spectacle that tore me apart because I
realized that many young souls were used
as entertainment for the hosts of hell.
But in the midst of that darkness, a
sudden light pierced the place. The
angel raised his sword and showed me
something different. A group of children
on their knees praying in their rooms.
Some did it in secret because their
parents didn't believe, but those small
prayers were like flames that destroyed
invisible chains. I saw demons trying to
approach. But upon hearing the name of
Jesus, they retreated in terror. Heaven
told me, "As long as there is one child
who calls on my name, there is still
hope." I was shown parents who had
decided to fast and pray for their
children. In the physical world, they
seemed like ordinary families, but
spiritually they were warriors who
raised walls of fire around their homes.
Video games tried to enter, but they
couldn't penetrate those barriers of
prayer. The angel spoke to me in a firm
voice. Parents don't understand that
their authority is spiritual. If they
surrender, the enemy wins. But if they
fight, hell retreats. Then I heard a
deep roar that shook all of hell. It was
Satan himself screaming in fury because
some children were being rescued. I saw
him banging on the walls of the abyss
with flaming chains and saying, "Don't
let go. They're mine." They grew up with
my images. They repeated my phrases.
They played my games. But at the same
time, I saw angels descending like
lightning, snatching some of those
children from the demonic clutches. It
was a constant war, minute by minute,
for every young soul on earth. The angel
then showed me a golden book in the sky.
In it were the names of the children who
had been set apart to serve God. But I
saw some names flash and then go out. I
asked, "Why?" And the angel answered,
"Because their parents weren't vigilant,
because they let their hearts be stolen
by the screen. But all is not lost yet.
There is still time. There is still
redemption." I felt those words were an
urgent warning to parents today not to
let their guard down, not to surrender
their homes to the enemy disguised as
entertainment. The vision returned to
hell one last time on that block. I saw
children running desperately, looking
for a way out of the playground
equipment. Some stretched their hands
toward heaven, but instead of finding
help, they were dragged by chains that
bound them to the burning ground. Their
voices called out, "Dad, mom, where are
you?" And I realized that the
responsibility was not only theirs, but
also that of previous generations who
failed to protect them. Hell not only
punishes individual sins, it also
collects debts of negligence and
silence. The angel looked at me intently
and said, "Speak. Do not be silent."
Many parents think we exaggerate when we
talk about video games and modern music.
But today you see the spiritual reality.
The enemy uses what seems innocent to
build eternal prisons. If you don't
speak out, their blood will be on you.
But if you warn, even if they mock you,
even if they reject you, you will be
doing your duty. And that voice was like
a fire inside me. A divine order that I
understood I must obey until my last
breath. The angel took me even deeper to
a place where the prisons were much more
elaborate. There I saw direct
representations of games that children
on Earth love obsessively. It was as if
hell had taken every detail and turned
it into an instrument of torture. I saw
a battlefield reminiscent of those war
games and shooting games that seem so
realistic. Only in hell there was no
reset or escape button. The young people
fell again and again under fiery bullet
that pierced their spiritual flesh. They
got up immediately, not because they
wanted to, but because they were
condemned to repeat the scene forever.
The pain was unbearable, but it never
ended. Each fall was accompanied by
demonic laughter that shouted, "You
wanted action. Now you all have eternal
war. Up ahead, I saw an arena that
looked like a sports game, but there
were no fair rules. The players were
chained souls, forced to run after a
burning ball that burned their feet and
hands. Each goal wasn't a cause for
celebration, but for pain. The demons
played, too. And every time they won,
they tore off pieces of souls and threw
them into the fire as trophies. I
understood that even seemingly harmless
games could be used as tools of
distraction and spiritual bondage. In
another space, I saw scenarios of magic
and fantasy. It was like a dark castle
where children were forced to cast
spells with words that burned on their
tongues. Their voices were scorched with
each incantation, and each spell uttered
strengthened the chains of their own
executioners. I shuddered because I
realized that many games that seem
innocent today actually teach children
to utter curse words without being
noticed. I saw demons dressed as
magicians inciting them, "Keep playing.
Repeat the phrases, so you belong to us
forever." I also witnessed a scene where
construction games appeared. Children
tried to build cities, but each block
they placed turned into burning stone
that buried them deeper and deeper. They
worked tirelessly building their own
prisons while demons laughed from on
high, saying that it was your choice to
build without God. Now your walls are
your eternal tomb. What seemed like
creativity on earth became slavery in
hell because it was not in service to
the creator but to the enemy. I saw an
even more horrifying area where lust was
the protagonist. There scenes from games
contaminated with perverse imagery were
played out and souls were forced to
watch without being able to close their
eyes. Their cries of despair were
muffled by demons repeating mocking
phrases. You asked for it. You played
it. Now it's your turn to suffer it. The
bodies of those souls burned like human
torches and the shame was as painful as
fire. The angel wept with me and said,
"The enemy knows that lust is one of his
most effective weapons against youth.
That's why he disguises it as
entertainment to make it seem harmless.
But what you see here is its true
fruit." In the midst of those scenes, a
gigantic demon appeared before me. His
skin seemed made of incandescent
circuitry, and his eyes were two screens
showing scenes of children playing in
the dirt. Each child represented was an
open file, a game in progress, the demon
said in a mocking voice. They think
they're playing freely, but every click,
every word, every connection binds them
to me. I am the true programmer. They
don't need to sign a blood pact. All
they need to do is surrender their time,
their mind, their innocence. His words
chilled me to the bone because I
understood that what he was saying was a
spiritual strategy in motion today. The
angel raised his sword and with a flash
forced the demon back. But before
disappearing, the monster shouted, "We
see each other in every game room. We
see each other on every console. We see
each other in every child who no longer
praise because they prefer my screens.
They are mine." that roar echoed like an
earthquake and I realized that the enemy
does not hide his plans because he knows
that most people do not believe these
warnings. The angel then showed me a
near future. I saw children completely
disconnected from reality, living only
in virtual worlds. I saw parents who no
longer knew how to communicate with
their children because they were trapped
in headphones and screens, unaware of
the voice from their own homes. And most
terrible of all, I saw demons assigned
to each game as spiritual guardians,
collecting the souls of those who die
trapped in unrepentant addictions. The
angel whispered to me in pain, "Hell has
no need of stone temples. Its temple is
now screens, and millions kneel before
them without realizing it." The angel
led me to an even dark raby, and then
the atmosphere changed. A heavy silence
covered everything, interrupted only by
the whales of thousands of children
trapped in their gaming prisons.
Suddenly, a roar shook the depths, and
the chains hanging on the walls clanged
like burning iron bells. The air grew
thicker, almost impossible to breathe,
and I realized that someone far more
powerful was about to manifest. Shadows
began to spiral together, forming a
black throne raised on columns of liquid
fire. From the throne emerged the figure
everyone feared, Satan himself, the
adversary, the father of lies. His
presence was so oppressive that my knees
trembled. And even though the angel held
me, I felt my soul was about to
disintegrate under his gaze. His eyes
glowed like burning coals, and his voice
boomed like thunder. Did you think the
video games were yours? No, they are
mine because I inspired them. I
perfected them. I swed them in every
generation with a wave of his claw.
Satan made giant screens appear around
his throne, projected on them were
scenes of the earth. Children in their
rooms, teenagers playing online games,
entire families entertained in front of
screens while the word of God remained
locked in a corner. Look, he said
mockingly, thousands spend hours here,
and not one minute with me is enough to
mark their souls. Every game is an
altar. Every connection is a prayer to
my kingdom. Even if they don't know it,
and when they die, they no longer belong
to me halfway. They belong to me
completely. The most horrifying thing
was when Satan held up a book made of
fire. It wasn't the book of life. It was
a crude imitation. In it were written
the names of children and young people
accompanied by symbols of the games they
had played the most. Each symbol was
like a chain sealed with their name. He
pointed with a crooked finger and
exclaimed, "These are my champions.
Those who never knew prayer, but knew
every shortcut, every trick, every false
victory. They served me better than many
preachers. Their laughter shook the
entire abyss, and each echo was a dart
that tore at my spirit. I saw demons
disguised as popular characters growling
at their feet." Video games. Their
grotesque forms were recognizable.
Heroes transformed into executioners.
Villains turned into eternal jailers.
They presented Satan with the souls they
had managed to capture. And he crowned
them with crowns of fire that brought
not glory but shame. These are my
digital kings, he shouted in a mocking
voice, kings without a throne, champions
without a heavenly crown, warriors of a
kingdom that never existed. The angel
who was with me raised his voice and
said, "He lies as he has always lied. No
earthly victory is eternal, and the
blood of the lamb can break those chains
if there is still life. But Satan
interrupted him with a roar that shook
the bowels of hell. But in the meantime,
they are mine, and every day I reap more
and more because the parents sleep
because the churches are silent because
the preachers prefer to entertain rather
than warn. That phrase pierced my soul
because it was the pure Ruth. The
negligence of men was fueling the feasts
of hell. I saw Satan point to the earth
and say, "They call me hype. They call
me myth. They call me mere distraction,
but I keep stealing their children,
their homes, their generations, and no
one does anything. I entertain them
until they forget God. And when they
want to seek him, it's too late." His
laughter echoed like a chorus of 1,000
thunderstorms. It was a direct mockery,
a challenge against heaven. And I
understood that this war wasn't
symbolic. It was real and daily. The
angel with tears in his eyes said to me,
"Now you see why it's urgent to speak.
The enemy doesn't rest. He never stops
plotting. Every new console, every
seemingly innocent game can become a
trap. If families don't rise up in
prayer, hell will continue to ravage
without resistance." At that moment, I
felt a holy fire igniting within me. An
urgency to warn the world. It wasn't
about prohibiting for the sake of
prohibiting, but rather about opening
spiritual eyes to a reality that few
want to see. Before disappearing, Satan
raised his fiery throne and shouted,
"The next championship is mine. The next
generation is mine, and it will only get
easier. Because while heaven speaks of
eternity, I offer them the immediate,
the fast, the exciting, and they prefer
me." That statement was seared into my
mind like a hot iron. I understood that
he not only steals souls, he also steals
time, steals attention, steals the
innocence of millions who could be
searching for God. While Satan's words
were still ringing like hammers in my
mind, a flash of light pierced the
depths. The light didn't come from
torches or blazing fires. It was a pure,
unwavering clarity that no shadow could
extinguish. Satan retreated furiously,
growling like a wounded animal. The
angel took me by the arm and said, "Now
you will see that heaven is not silent,
that even in the midst of deception,
there is a divine answer." Then I saw an
army of angels descending like flashes
of lightning. Each one carried swords
that seemed to be made of liquid light.
They began to cut the invisible chains
that bound some children trapped in the
infernal games. Each blow released a
soul that ascended like a spark upward.
Satan roared, "They are not yours, they
are mine." But the voice from heaven
sounded like a trumpet, saying, "The
blood of the lamb still has power, and
as long as there is someone who prays, I
will listen." It was then that I saw
scenes on earth. I saw mothers kneeling
by their children's beds, weeping and
crying out, "Lord, break my child's
chains. Save him. Free him from the
screens. Restore his innocence." Each
tear fell like fire upon the chains in
the spirit world, weakening them until
they broke. There were parents who laid
hands on the consoles and commanded in
the name of Jesus that every unclean
spirit be cast out of their homes. And
in hell, demons came out screaming in
fury because they had lost ground. The
angel showed me a detail. It was
shocking. Not many parents prayed, but
the few who did work were causing
spiritual earthquakes that shattered
entire fortresses. The voice from heaven
told me, "I don't need distracted
crowds. I need a few faithful people who
dare to believe. With them, I will open
paths where there seem to be none and
rescue those who can still be reached."
In another vision, I saw young people
who had been addicted to gambling for
years, but suddenly had dreams where the
figure of Jesus appeared, calling them
by name. Some woke up crying, feeling
such a heavy weight that they ran to
find a Bible, even though they had never
opened one before. It was as if heaven
itself infiltrated their nights to sew
seeds of redemption. The angel said,
"The Lord continues to speak in visions
and dreams, especially to this
generation that doesn't listen to
sermons, but can still hear in the
intimacy of the early morning." I also
saw churches that had understood the
danger. Pastors stood up not with empty
messages of condemnation, but with
spiritual authority. They preached about
modern idolatry, about the hidden risks
in digital culture. And while some
sneered and left, others broke their
chains at the altar. I saw young people
leaving their games in front of the pull
pit, weeping and committing their lives
to Christ. The angels celebrated because
each renunciation was a victory over
hell. But I also saw the other side.
Silent churches, leaders who preferred
to please the crowd rather than confront
sin. Some said, "It's just games. Let's
not overreact." While in the spiritual
world, their congregations were being
dragged into the abyss. The angel looked
at me sadly and said, "Silence will also
be judged." Failing to warn when the
danger is clear is complicity with the
enemy. That phrase was like fire in my
bones. because I understood that a
mission is one of the favorite weapons
of silencing what should be shouted from
the pull pits. Then I saw heaven opened
like a curtain. A voice resounded with
majesty, saying, "I'm the alpha and the
omega. Satan boasts of generations, but
he does not have the last word. I will
still raise up prophets among children.
I will still put my spirit in
adolescence whom the enemy believed to
be his, and they will be trumpets that
will announce my glory." In that moment,
I saw small groups of young people
gathered in parks and homes, without
expensive instruments or lights, only
with Bibles in their hands. They
preached with a fire that set hearts
ablaze, and each word was like an arrow
of light that pierced the darkness. The
angel showed me that some of these young
people had been obsessive gamers, even
on the verge of losing their lives to
digital addictions. But Christ had
rescued them. And now they were using
their story as a testimony to warn
others. I saw a young man saying, "I was
a slave to screens, but Jesus set me
free. What he used to destroy me, I now
used to glorify the Lord." That
statement shook the bowels of hell
because it was living proof that God's
power is always greater. Satan from his
throne screamed furiously as he saw
those scenes. He held fire. He threw
chains, but none reached those who were
covered by prayer and the blood of the
lamb. His roar was one of defeat
disguised as rage because he knew that
for every soul lost, another could be
rescued. And I understood that the war
was constant, that nothing was yet
decided. Because as long as there is
breath, there is opportunity for redemption.
redemption.
The angel told me in a deep voice, "You
have not yet seen the worst. Because the
enemy is not content with trapping
children in games. He is preparing
something much bigger. A plan to enslave
entire generations through a single
system." Suddenly, the vision changed,
and I saw myself in a gigantic room made
of iron and fire, as if it were the
command center of hell. There I saw
demons working like dark engineers in
front of incandescent screens. Each one
seemed to program codes that were sent
directly to Earth in the form of new
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