A magnificent white stone wall appeared, casting a shadow over our heads. It felt as though we were facing the cross-section of a massive limestone cliff.
Drip… drip…
Drawn by the sound of a slow, viscous liquid flowing down, I lifted my gaze.
At about mid-height on the wall, something seized my attention. It was a grotesque plaster relief.
In the holy divine realm, one might expect sacred art to depict angels praising the gods. But the plaster relief before us was entirely different.
It portrayed a sinner, pierced by three cross-shaped spears, buried in a swamp-like wall, writhing in agony.
It seemed designed to awaken a fear of punishment in the beholder, a warning against committing sins.
At that moment, a trembling baritone voice resounded in my ears.
“This is not merely a plaster relief.”
His words brought enlightenment.
I sensed a faint divinity and a suppressed godhood emanating from what should have been an inanimate object.
What lay before us wasn’t a simple relief. It…