For philosophy_20: God

Sep 03, 2008 20:57

They were doomed.

Ash fell from the sky as their world ended. Pompeii was falling to the ground, burning, consuming, stealing the air and replacing it with dust. The home that once protected them from the wrath of the elements now bent to the Gods’ brutal will, crumbling and trapping them, encasing them forever in the soon to be ruins of their glorious city.

Pompeii was ending, as was the world. They had nothing left but each other, and they clung to that with every inch of life they had in them. They sat together, connected embraces, the father, the mother, the brother, the sister. “Be brave,” they whispered, “Fortes fortuna juvat.” Fortune favors the brave. No good would come from cowardice, and yet, none could blame the other’s fear. Death and destruction reigned around them, how could one possibly hope to be brave?

All was lost. And then it happened.

A light appeared, suddenly, in the ash, shining with a strange, blinding glow. An enormous gust of wind commanded the dust, as a vaguely familiar blue structure began to make itself known amongst the chaos. Only gradually at first, it forced it’s way into the surrounding environment, entering in and out of existence until finally achieving corporeal form in a burst of unearthly, mechanical noise.

They suddenly found themselves cowering before a tall, wooden doorway. Though it appeared simple, though it should have been the same benign, harmless structure it had always been, it had changed. It was now something far stranger, far grander, something far beyond anything they could imagine. It stood as a signal, their only sign of hope, and as the door opened to reveal what lay on the other side, they knew they would survive.

“Ecce homo.” Behold the man.

A single figure stood in the white, shining light that bathed the ash and stung their eyes. It was far too glorious a sight to behold, and yet it was one they could simply not look away from. Never before had they witnessed such indisputable power, such complete command. The chaos around him seemed to bend to his will, the ash swirling around him and his mysterious passageway, yet never touching him.

This was not the sight of a man. This was the divine taking pity on them. This was everything they believed in, finally manifest. This was the glory of the Gods.

“Come with me,” he said, simply, quickly, urgent yet deeply calm. They reached for him, reaching through the volcanic nightmare, desperately trying to take hold of the miracle before them, the salvation and mystery of this being.

After what seemed like an eternity, their hands met. Man and God. The savior and the saved.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 459

philosophy_20

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