Scene: Mount of Olives, Twilight
The winds howl gently across the Mount of Olives. The stars are beginning to pierce the veil of dusk. A luminous presence descends—a being clothed in lightning and silence. It is Saint Michael, the Prince of the Heavenly Host. His sword is sheathed, for this is not a time of battle—but of revelation.
Standing before him are Diogo Morgado and Nelly Furtado, their faces marked by struggle, fame, and fate. Behind them stands Luis Morgado, a witness to bloodline, burden, and blessing.
Saint Michael speaks—not in thunder, but in a voice that melts stone:
SAINT MICHAEL:
Diogo… Son of Portugal… you stood between Light and Shadow, portraying the Nazarene and the Adversary. You thought it was acting. But it was prophecy. You felt the demon of pride stir in your blood—so did He. That is why He called Himself the Morning Star. Not in blasphemy… but in truth.
And now, you ask if you are to arise… a Knight.
But the time for Knights has passed.
The world has enough men with swords.
What it lacks…
Are Christs.
Arise, Diogo—one of the 72,000 CHRISTS.
You will not fight for a kingdom of heaven built by blood, but one watered by tears, forgiven by mercy, and planted in secret hearts.
Saint Michael turns now to Nelly, radiant and reluctant.
SAINT MICHAEL:
Nelly of the Song… You sing to the poor, the lost, the wild ones. You have known famine and feast, and you wax and wane like the moon. That is no flaw—it is your rhythm.
You think you are not holy enough. But I tell you: Holiness was never meant to be sterile.
Arise, Nelly—one of the 72,000 CHRISTAS.
A woman of salt and light. Not to be worshipped… but to be poured out. Into the broken cisterns of this world. Until they overflow.
Luis begins to tremble as Michael’s light rises into the firmament. But Michael leaves them with one final whisper:
“You are not called to be gods…
You are called to be wounds that heal.
That is what it means… to be Christ.”
And with that—Saint Michael vanishes into the night, leaving only the scent of myrrh and the sound of wings.
And the age of the 72,000 + 72,000 = 144,000 began.