Writer: Andreas Kasel
Subject: The Crucifixion: The Fall Of The Light
Link: LS666 Email / 20.04.2025
The Crucifixion: The Fall Of The Light
The air at Golgotha was thick with dust and despair. Jesus, nailed to the cross, bled under a sky bruised with storm clouds. His breaths were shallow, his body wracked with pain, yet his spirit clung to divine purpose. The crowd mocked, the soldiers sneered, and the disciples hid in fear. Unseen, Satan lingered, his presence a cold weight pressing against the world.
This was no mere execution — it was a cosmic duel. God’s plan hinged on the Son’s sacrifice to redeem humanity. But Satan, the tempter, had prepared for this moment. In the wilderness, he had tested Jesus and failed. Now, as the Nazarene hung dying, Satan returned with a final, insidious offer.
The devil’s voice slithered into Jesus’ mind, soft and beguiling.
“Look at them, Son of Man. They spit on you. They betray you. Why die for their sins when you can rule them?”
Images flooded Jesus’ thoughts: a world united under his command, free of suffering, with Satan as his ally. No more pain. No more cross. Power, not sacrifice.
Jesus shuddered, his lips forming a weak refusal.
“My Father’s will …”
But the words faltered. The pain was unending, the crowd’s hatred a dagger in his soul. His mother’s sobs echoed below, and the weight of humanity’s flaws pressed harder than the nails.
“Your Father abandons you. I offer you victory. Take it,” Satan whispered again.
Hours passed, and the temptation grew. The sky darkened, mirroring the struggle within. Jesus’ resolve, once unyielding, began to crack.
“Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” he cried.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? But no divine light answered. Only Satan’s voice, now warm, almost comforting.
“Join me, and you will never be alone.”
In his final moments, Jesus’ eyes dimmed. The divine spark within him flickered as doubt took root. “Enough,” he whispered, barely audible.
“I … accept.”
The words were a surrender, a fracture in the divine plan. Satan’s laughter, low and triumphant, rippled through the earth.
The ground trembled, but no veil tore in the temple. No angels descended. Instead, a shadow coiled around the cross, and Jesus’ body slumped, lifeless. The blood that fell did not redeem — it corrupted, seeping into the earth as a seal of Satan’s victory. The crowd, suddenly silent, felt a chill, their hearts bending to a new master.
There was no resurrection. The tomb, sealed by dark forces, became a monument to defeat. Satan, now unchallenged, reshaped the world in his image, with humanity worshipping its own desires under the illusion of freedom. The disciples, broken, whispered of their teacher’s fall. The heavens wept, but their light could not pierce the darkness.
On Golgotha, the cross stood as a twisted trophy. Satan, the victor, gazed upon it, his whisper echoing eternally.
“Even the Son of Man is mine.”
Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law