RalucaOrasanu

I’ve just finished it, and it left me with a lot to think about—not through action, but through the idea behind it. I don’t know if the screenwriter intended it this way, but to me, it feels inspired by the story of the Apocalypse.
The Apocalypse not as an end, but in its true meaning — Apokalypsi, a revelation, a truth — a harsh light brought through chaos. What remains afterward? A world that might begin anew. Or one that sinks even deeper into its wounds, frustrations, violence, pettiness, anguish, anxieties, despair.
Sometimes, the one who smiles the kindest, who seems to help the most and asks for nothing in return, is the very one who lights the fuse.
And maybe, in that gesture, lies the most sincere gift given to a world that has done everything it could to destroy him.
It’s not the best series I’ve ever seen, but it’s certainly one of the most compelling portrayals of the Apocalypse, and one of the most powerful portraits of Lucifer.
Lucifer—the one who felt betrayed, abandoned, used, wounded—and who asks only that people have the courage to look in the mirror and truly see themselves, with both the good and all the smallness buried in their souls.
He places them before the ultimate choice, because “we each have a trigger in our minds.”
Some choose to pull it, others don’t.
Among those who don’t, some long to, but lack the courage or choose to obey laws and moral norms. Others reject the possibility altogether.
A new world may rise from chaos—or from honestly facing the mirror.
There’s nothing mystical about the story.