28/04/2026
âThe Voice in the Ashesâ
The sky was gray, heavy like it was carrying the weight of the world.
A small boy stood alone in the middle of ruins. Dust clung to his skin, and tears traced lines down his face. Around him, silence screamed louder than any noise ever could.
âTheyâre goneâŚâ he whispered.
His hands trembled as he looked up, eyes burning with pain and anger.
âTheyâre killing us⌠one by one⌠and Youâre watching.â
His voice rose, breaking through the stillness.
âWho are You?â he cried out. âWhat kind of God allows this? Why wonât You stop it?â
The wind movedâbut nothing answered.
The boy clenched his fists, his sorrow turning into fire.
âIf You are God⌠then prove it! Or maybe Youâre not who You say You are!â
For a moment, everything stood still.
Then a voice cameânot from the sky, not from the ground, but from somewhere deeper⌠somewhere unseen.
Cold. Calm. Unshaken.
âYou are becoming what you hate.â
The boy froze.
The voice continued:
âYou are walking the path of Hades⌠not because of what has been done to you, but because of how you choose to respond.â
The boyâs breathing slowed, confusion replacing anger.
âWhat do you mean?â he whispered.
âPain does not make you darkness,â the voice said. âBut letting that pain turn into rage, into hatred⌠that is how darkness is born.â
The wind brushed past him again, softer this time.
âYou question Godâbut now you stand with the same fire that destroys.â
The boy looked down at his shaking hands.
Tears fell againâbut this time, they were quieter.
âYou are not condemned,â the voice said gently. âBut you are at a crossroads.â
Silence returned.
The sky remained gray.
The world was still broken.
But the boy stood there⌠no longer shouting.
Thinking.
