It took a full week for it to fall from the sky. Proud warriors wailed at the burning gash across the skies. Our elders threw themselves into the dirt, flailing and praying to the Shadow. I did the only thing I could do. I measured, plotted, prepared, and eagerly waited.

I had lived nearly four decades at this point; ten years older than the next oldest in our village, but my intellect had grown far beyond my years. While I had tremendous ideas for the potential, there was nothing I could do surrounded by mud and savages. The frustration left me isolated from the others. People I once loved and longed to be around became meandering pests. None of them could ever hope to understand my vision or our potential.

Besides, it was too late for them. While the others begged for salvation, I took our fastest animal and rode across the plains.

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I had been charting the night sky for months, ever since I noticed the new star blaze into existence. The existence of my shelter was no secret, but it's purpose. My people thought I was only building a new temple for the Shadow Gods. Our little village had swelled into a town, and then a small city, our comforts seduced other tribes into joining us. We needed a large place of worship for our followers.

I agreed, but I no longer believed in the Shadow Gods. The only true god was the one that walked among them as their shaman.

Unfortunately, my absence did not go entirely unnoticed. Several riders appeared on the crest of the hill, just as I sealed the stone entrance. They screamed and cursed me, banging and scraping against the layers of rock separating us.

It wasn’t hard to ignore them.

Their cries were cut off in the shockwave.