Kevin had always been a grumpy old man, hardened by years of loneliness and loss. His wife had passed years ago, leaving him with only his daughter to visit him from time to time. Though he barked and complained about the small things, his heart softened whenever she came by to check on him. She was the last remnant of the life he'd once had, and his love for her was his only tether to a world that had long since grown cold.
On this particular day, his daughter arrived at his home amidst the chaos. She had come, as always, to make sure he was okay, her face full of worry as the world outside crumbled. Kevin grumbled about the mess outside, but he was secretly touched that she still thought of him, even when the world seemed to be ending.
But just as she entered his home, something happened. A blinding light flooded the room, and before Kevin could even register what was happening, his daughter was gone. He stood there, frozen in disbelief, the silence that followed more deafening than any trumpet. His heart ached as the full weight of the loss settled over him. She had been taken, raptured, leaving him behind in the wreckage of his broken heart.
Kevin, once a man too stubborn to change, now realized the depth of his regret. His grumpiness had been a shield, a way to protect himself from the loneliness that had defined his life for so long. But now, with his daughter gone, the shield crumbled. His home, once warmed by her presence, felt unbearably empty. He sank to his knees and prayed—a prayer of desperation, of sorrow, of repentance for a lifetime of pushing people away, of sins that he tried to bury. But deep down, he knew it was too late.
Two days passed. The world outside continued to unravel, the trumpets of judgment looming ever closer. Kevin remained inside, a man adrift in grief, waiting for whatever fate would claim him.
Then, on the evening of the second day, there was a knock at his door. Kevin, still kneeling by his bed in prayer, was startled by the sound. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was real or just his mind playing tricks on him. But the knock came again, more insistent this time.
He opened the door, and standing before him was a man dressed in a flowing robe, a gentle but unsettling smile on his face. The stranger introduced himself as an Apostle of the Church of Illumination. He spoke with a calm, almost soothing tone, explaining that he was here to offer salvation to those left behind before the next trumpets were blown.
Kevin, desperate and broken, felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this was his chance to find peace, to be redeemed despite all that had happened. The Apostle’s words seemed to offer a lifeline, and Kevin clung to them, feeling something he hadn’t felt in years—relief, maybe even salvation.
---
At the Church of Illumination, the atmosphere was charged with a dark energy. The Anti-Christ stood at the pulpit, his voice booming as he preached to the crowd. His words dripped with venom, challenging the very idea of divine love.
“If God is truly love, why save only a few?” he thundered, his eyes scanning the desperate faces below. “Why abandon you to suffer in this dying world? God has turned His back on you—but we, the Illuminated, offer salvation for those willing to see the truth.”
Beside him, a line of fanatics stretched out, each awaiting their turn to be "raptured" by the beautiful angel that stood silently next to the Anti-Christ. As each person approached, the angel touched their head lightly, and their bodies glowed with a brilliant light before vanishing into thin air, as if an alternative to the rapture.
Kevin, consumed by desperation for salvation, joined the line. His heart pounded as he shuffled forward, inching closer to what he believed was his last chance. Around him, the crowd began to wail as the third trumpet sounded in the distance, signaling another wave of divine judgment. The air was thick with fear and anticipation, but Kevin shut his eyes, blocking out the chaos. All he could do now was wait for his turn.
The Anti-Christ continued to preach, his voice filled with false sympathy. “You are the lucky ones,” he said, his smile a mockery of comfort. “For the Illuminati has found you. Those we didn’t reach will suffer the wrath of heaven. But you—you will be spared.”
Kevin, his hands trembling, kept his eyes shut tight. He could hear the others before him vanish, one by one, their bodies dissolving into light. He clung to the hope that he would soon join them, free from the torment of this world.
Finally, it was Kevin’s turn. He stepped forward, barely able to breathe as the angel’s hand reached out to touch his head. But instead of the soothing release he had imagined, a searing pain tore through him. His body convulsed, his soul burning from the inside of his flesh. It was agony beyond comprehension, yet he could not scream—the pain was too deep, too consuming.
As the torment escalated, Kevin’s body glowed brighter and brighter until, like the others, he vanished into the air.
But this was no salvation.
For the angel was no angel at all—it was Lucifer himself, disguised in radiant beauty. And with each touch, he absorbed the souls of the desperate and the damned, enhancing his power to claim dominion over the dying world.
The crowd, still unaware, continued to queue, their hope feeding Lucifer’s growing strength.
