Against the Attack: That the Sky Might Speak

Phōs in the Vapor: Revelation on the Hilltop

I was taken to the ice, though I did not want to go. I feared for my child— But she was safe. Because this was not about her. This was not about me. This was about what is coming.

There, where the world was cold and cracked, I saw beneath the surface. But I was not to stay long. Because this was only the beginning.

I was lifted to a hilltop. A place where sky met soil. There, the clouds began to speak. Not in thunder, not in flame— But in faces.

Face after face emerged in the vapor. They moved quickly, as if pushed by wind and time itself. Some I recognized. some not. But I knew one thing with certainty:

This was revelation. This was not weather. This was not imagination. This was a warning.

Then came the attack. Not from above, but from the woods— Where what hides in shadows waits for the gathering to begin.

The army did not shout. It fired. It did not threaten. It destroyed. There was no time for reason. No time for repentance. Only the sound of gunfire. Only the fall of the faithful.

I flew. I survived. But I carried the silence of the dead behind me.

This is the message:

When the sky begins to reveal the faces of the hidden—watch.

When you are called to gather in high places—do so without fear.

But know this: the watchers are watching. The false ones know the light is gathering. And they will come—not with argument, But with violence.

They will not aim at structures. They will aim at the seers. At the gatherers. At those who recognize the clouds for what they are:

Testimony.

I am not writing this to frighten you. I am writing it because I have seen.

And if you have seen too— You will know this word is for you.

Prepare not with fear, But with clarity. Stand not with pride, But with presence.

The scrolls are open. The sky is speaking. Let those who have eyes, see.