τετέλεσται

He turned his gaze downward, toward the screaming crowd. The people below him were waving their arms, pushing and shoving, tearing their clothes, and weeping. It was a chaotic mass of contorted faces and blasphemous mouths. His hands and feet were bound, every movement was agony, and each breath was a searing pain.
He closed his eyes.
Tetélestai.
He opened them again and saw a vast horizon, a gleaming metropolis of crystal towers and mirrors. He felt like he was flying over bustling streets teeming with life. Everything moved quickly, people entering and exiting shops briskly, some running, others talking on the phone, and still more raising their arms to call someone in front. Suddenly, a tremendous impact shook the air. He looked up and saw one of the enormous towers engulfed in flames, thick black smoke billowing from the building. Chaos spread instantly, and the city's background hum turned into a cacophony of sirens and screams. He felt a shadow pass over his head, tried to look up as the crowd jostled him from side to side, and saw an enormous plane crashing into the second tower. Someone pushed him against a pole, he hit his forehead, and he lost consciousness.
Tetélestai.
He felt tired, the smell of dust brought him back to the present. Where was he? Where was he? Still on that hill? But which hill? Was he dreaming? He couldn't even remember his own name. He turned right and left, realizing he wasn't alone. Two more people were with him. They were panting as if they had just completed a long run. He tried to speak, but no sound came from his mouth, only a hoarse cough. A loud buzzing made him collapse once again.
Tetélestai.
His eyes were closed, yet he could see. He was in a gray field covered in ice. The air was freezing, and a fine dust, like snow, fell from the sky. He felt a strong sense of nausea due to a strange acrid smell in the air. Around him were hundreds of people with pale, haggard faces, as if they had lived a hundred lives. He looked around and saw barbed wire fences guarded by ferocious men shouting at the wretched souls in tattered clothing. He took a step but stumbled over what he thought was a branch. When he tried to get up, he realized it wasn't a branch but an arm, a child's arm emerging from the mud. The body was completely buried in the muck and was so emaciated it looked like dry wood. The nausea overwhelmed him, and he fainted.
Tetélestai.
He was thirsty, he asked for water, and they gave it to him. He could no longer see clearly, just vague shadows. He tried to look at the sky, but he couldn't distinguish up from down. He wanted to move but was paralyzed.
Tetélestai.
He opened his eyes. He looked around; it was as if time had stood still. Everything was clear, no more pain, and there was profound silence.
He felt fragmented into a thousand pieces, able to see in all directions. He felt like he was going mad. Now he was in a square where people were gathered in prayer, while a man dressed in white released doves into the sky. He turned to the left and found himself in a city with foreign people. The streets were filled with sewage and garbage, and barefoot children played with a ragged ball near the corpse of an elderly man who had died of starvation. In the air, a stench of decay mixed with incense sent shivers down his spine.
He tried to move forward and saw various scenes: People having lunch in a bright house, men dressed in black beheading prisoners in orange jumpsuits, cocaine refineries hidden in the jungle, an office filled with people in suits discussing interest rates and profits, a laboratory filled with terrified animals, the deep blue sea tainted with black oil, a vast forest on fire, homeless people eating in a soup kitchen, volunteers tending to elderly wounds, monks in a monastery were creating intricate arabesques with colored sand , robots walking the streets, fields of wheat bombed and set on fire by soldiers....all this and much more he saw......and at the bottom of it all, in a time that seemed infinite, he saw a hill with 3 crucified men dying on top.
At the end of it all, in a seemingly endless time, he saw a hill with three men crossed dying at the top.
He advanced toward that vision. He then felt an overwhelming weight on his shoulders. Now the hill was empty, and he was struggling to reach the summit.
People around him screamed, cursed, and others wept. He fell, got up, his whole body ached, and he was covered in blood. He went on. He remembered why he was there, who he was, what he was carrying. Everything came flooding back. He felt he had to continue, had to reach the top, had to fulfill.
The weight, of all he had seen, was unbearable, heavier than any burden. But he had to go on....So wanted the Father.
One of the three men drank, nodded several times, dazed, covered in blood, semi-conscious, limbs nailed to the wood, in pain.
He whispered something:
Tetélestai.
He bowed his head and died.