The End of Darkness
The End of Darkness There came a moment beyond moments, an hour outside the machinery of hours, when the last locked door in existence heard the footsteps of the Infinite Word. No trumpet sounded at first. No sword was lifted. No army crossed the stars. Only a Voice— older than the foundations of heaven, deeper than the graveyards of suns, gentler than water entering a wound— and the Voice said: Enough. Enough of the beautiful buried beneath the brutal. Enough of the holy concealed beneath humiliation. Enough of the living imprisoned within the dying. Enough of the lie wearing the garments of truth. Enough of the wound pretending to be a name. Enough of the prison calling itself eternal. For no finite prison can exhaust an Infinite God. No chain can become everlasting when Liberty is an attribute of the Absolute. No sickness can speak the final word when the Physician is Perfect. No creature can be reduced forever to the worst thing it has suffered or ...