"The orcs have been obliterated, my lord, though the enemy seems to be in genuine fear of our creatures." A goblin kneeled before the ten seats, gathered in a circle. One stood taller than the rest, a grand throne.

Deep in the forests of the north of the world, in the terrain so favored by Angmar, Sauron had constructed a hidden base. He did not know how far the Age of Man had progressed. But he wasn't going to take chances. The essence once dispelled from the Ring gathered quietly, on smoke clouds that reeked of sulfur, in the minds of those who counted coin with gold-lust rivalling the Dwarves, and in the deceit of leaders of men who sought power and glory above the welfare of their people.

And at last, after much effort, Sauron had returned to the Modern Era.

And he had returned to a world that was prepared just for him, as those metal buildings and war showed that.

Sauron watched the battle from a palantir. His Orcs were shot to pieces, by waves of fire and clouds of smoke. Great metallic machines rose high into the sky, touching the edge of the void between the stars, turning the ground into death. The Nazgul around him quailed at the flames. The Palantir shifted, tapping into the invisible waves that permeated the airs, delivering message and news to all corners of all Human nations. There were news in black and white, but they were as much mockery as they were fear, mockery of a medieval race contesting humanity for dominion of the world. The name of the Dark Lord came up more than once.

The Witch-King snarled in anger. The air shuddered, as if anticipating a scream. But the figure sitting atop the throne simply tilted his head, amused. He had been here before, after all. When Numenor was at its height, the Orcs, too, had been easily obliterated. And he'd seen the Valar in their glory, capable of unleashing perhaps even greater destruction than the nuclear weapons that humanity had made.

Sauron's thought flowed from the darkened, freezing forests of the North, over the glittering cities of humanity. The Elves were gone. The Dwarves had disappeared. But the cities of Man, ironically, looked exactly like his vision all those thousands of years ago; bastions of steel and smoke and technology, ringed by dying resources and filled to the brim with squalor.

Despite everything Sauron let out a laugh. Machine guns and artillery, laser rifles, vertibirds and power armor and many more war machines... techologies... He recalled the percussion at the Music of the Ainur, how the third theme stole the sound of ringing metal from the earth and the roar of fire from the skies. It came to him like a dream.

And he knew what he must do.

The Orcs, as ever, would delight in the works of humanity. Some of them had already taken up guns and energy weapons, and discarded their outdated swords and bows. Of course they have to learn how to use those first...

But other things were of more use. The crows that swarmed in the towers of Man, the wild animals that had been displaced from their lands, angered. Trees, still, poisoned elves and Ents would have been furious, Sauron mused. Perhaps somewhere, the trees could be awakened again. He wasn't sure what dwarves would think of the modern world, probably they would be impressed how far mankind came. Sauron was impressed too, indeed Sauron geniuely believed man was special. As this modern age they created proved that again. Which is why he wanted to rule them, and planned to get rid of the orcs once they served their purpose... Orcs were... too chaotic.

Unlike his short-sighted foolish 'master' Melkor, Sauron did not want to destroy evertyhing, he wanted to rule, both the world and mankind. He wanted to create perfect world, in perfect order, with absolute obedience to him. A world fueled by machines, factories and many more. Thankfully man already done that job for him... Now all he had to do was to take over.

Of course, Sauron would return to his oldest strategy. He cloaked again, now as a fair, ambitious young politician, in a black suit, not just him but also the kings he held in thrall. The Nine rode forth, not as cloaked, darkened figures, but men, sharply dressed and inserted into seats of power, obscuring truth and planting lies.

Several went to the highest echelons of nations. Others sought the cutting edge of human technology, the better to learn of their foe. Still others simply blended into the populations of the wealthy and affluent to corrupt them, masking their auras of fear and fomenting decadence. They were once Numenorean Kings, after all. Who better than they to lead Men corruption?

Truly humanity is special, he thought as he from his palantir, he watched a single power armored soldier killing dozens of orcs all by himself. He watched as corrupt politicians filling their pockets while common men suffered, he watched as human scientists meddling with forbidden sciences, creating even more terrifying weapons, defiling their bodies and others. To make themselves immortal or create soldiers, spitting the gifts of Valar. He watched as they created sentient machines... ''Robots'' humans called them, those were very interesting...

So Sauron, himself, went to another route. To contest humanity, Sauron cannot take chances. He cannot simply rely on dividing and conquering them. After all, did not the King of Gondor once unite humanity?

Decades passed, resources in the world dwindled, then one by one human nations started to fall, chaos ruled the world, and total war broke out. Sauron was confused, he did not planned this. Did he went too far with corrupting humanity? Or did he underestimated the mankind's self-destructive nature?

Then much to his astonishment on Saturday, October 23, 2077 The last act of insanity of mankind set one thousand suns, spread all across the world.