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All facets of creation flashed before him, seeing at once the vaulted skies and the earth below, layers of strata leading into the abyss beneath the deepest fathoms of ocean waters where leviathans of old still dwelt.

Layers of earth crumbled and reformed as his spirit passed through, his body to remain there upon that accursed tree set on the place called the skull until the appointed time.

When he arrived at the place of the scalding seething flames eternal, the white hot center of all the earth, his heart ached as he knew the scalding suffering of his children. Yet the work was complete, as set out for him by the Father and his will. A life well lived, destined to die a mocking death.

All at once in impossible tension that following his descension, he knew the rightness of the past wrath his father heaved upon the heads of those sons of God who fell and corrupted and made polluted humanity that bred sin in the world, the weight of all that sin and pain now wiped in absolute with the final words from the body of of the man known as Jesus of Nazareth.

"It is finished."

The dying breath of Yahweh, Elohim, Creator God matchless in majesty and light most pure brought into terrifying beautiful manifestation, just as the first resound of the Lord's voice as the Spirit hovered there over the unborn celestial waters.

So here now in the depths where humanity languished, where even the righteous were fated to and loom in a place somewhere between everywhere and the nine rungs of black ash and blazing fury, he breathed out his victory.

And he forged the key to buy the freedom for the captives with the words he spoke, soaked in grace and blood and resonant divine power.

"It is won."

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