The light did not fade.
It deepened.
What had begun as radiance thickened into something heavier—denser—like molten gold poured across the mountain peak. It did not illuminate.
It consumed.
Edges vanished first.
The sharp outline of stone softened… then disappeared entirely. Cracks, rubble, scattered debris—all swallowed without resistance as the light rolled outward in slow, unstoppable waves.
Distance collapsed.
Near and far lost meaning.
The mountain no longer stood beneath them.
It was gone.
Erased beneath a sea of gold.
For a moment—
There was no sky.
No ground.
No horizon to anchor the eye.
Only light.
The disciples reacted too late.
A surge of pressure swept through the air—not violent, but absolute. It pressed against their bodies, against their lungs, against the space inside their bones.
Several staggered.
Boots scraped across stone that no longer felt like stone.
Hands rose instinctively, shielding eyes that could no longer adjust.
