Chapter 6: Betrayal

The olive grove echoed with shouts and scrambling feet as soldiers descended upon the unaware disciples. Michael watched, half-paralyzed, as Jesus simply raised a hand. "No more of this," he commanded, and the grove fell deathly still.

Before the captain, Jesus asked calmly, "Whom do you seek?" When they answered, "Jesus of Nazareth," he replied simply, "I am he."

At those words, the detachment staggered back as though it had been physically struck. Fear and confusion swept their ranks. But Judas urged them forward, and with chains and cudgels, they seized the Son of God.

All around, the disciples scattered into the night like quail before hounds. Only Peter drew steel, slicing an ear from the slave of the high priest. Jesus healed the wound at once, conveying a message more profound than any rebuke. He surrendered willingly to the fate placed upon him by the world's foundations.

Michael ran with the retreating disciples into the grove's shadows, desperation and fury coursing in his veins. How could they leave their master when he needed them most? Yet he knew with dreadful certainty that no force on earth could now alter what was ordained to be.

From the darkened boughs, Michael watched helplessly as Jesus was marched away toward Jerusalem's gates in chains. He saw the betrayer following at a distance, weeping, any silver already spent on greed and regret.

Within the city walls, the company crossed through the silent streets. All who weren't roused by the military escort were waking to a blood-red dawn, unknowing that with the new day came a decision. At the courtyard of the high priest, a gathering mob crackled with rumors and vicious anticipation, awaiting the prisoner's condemnation.

There, Judas approached Caiaphas humbly with downcast eyes. "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood," came the whispered confession. But the high priest showed no mercy or remorse. "What is that to us? See to it yourself."

In that moment, Michael witnessed a soul condemned without hope to the blackest torment. Judas fled into the alleys, knowing only one escape from the guilt worming into his waking thoughts forevermore. The last thing Michael saw was his gaunt shape stumbling toward the dark valley where he would make the final absolution. There, a gnarled tree would be his only shroud, and the ropes would be his only comfort as salvation slipped from his grasp forever.

All this Michael watched, paralyzed, as events careened like boulders down a ravine toward the crashing sea. Jesus now stood vehemently accused within the courtyard by vengeful priests thirsting to seal his fate. He knew there would be no postponing Golgotha and its crowning agony any longer. The end was near, and with it, the final trial of faith that would seal his disciples' allegiance beyond doubt or denial. All that remained was the walking of dark valleys.