He was not a figure of soft religious art; he was a storm of living lightning.

He was not a figure of soft religious art; he was a storm of living lightning. His presence was so intense that the very atmosphere ionized, turning the air into a shimmering veil of ozone. He did not come with an army, for he was the army. His sword, forged from the original Fiat Lux—the "Let there be light"—burned with a white heat that pierced through the deepest, most ancient lies.