‘This isn’t possible,’ Tensha thought in his own language. He turned over the leaves of paper with images of people on them, thoughtfully viewing each one. Never had it occurred to him that others existed that were like him; mother had always said he was the only one.

He knew that he was descended from the race of gods who wielded fire and thunder, but he had never before seen evidence of their existence. These pictures, though he had no word for them, showed him that they were real, or had been, and maybe he could find them. He placed the object into the bag which he kept slung around his neck and stood.

This odd den of wood had holes in the sides which let the weather come in. It provided little shelter against the cold, but perhaps the gods were above the cold. His eyes rested on a shining object surrounded by a transparent shield. Trying to pick it up, Tensha had to smash it in order to get to the shiny angled stick. The box broke into many tiny pieces which flew around the room and scratched his legs. He backed away a couple steps and yelped in pain, but his curiosity still got the better of him.

Delicately, he lifted the alien object and examined it closely. It was intricately carved with runes that Tensha did not understand and had a hole in one end. He inquisitively tried to peer into the hole and see what was in there, but it was too dark.

Not to be discouraged, Tensha took hold of the bottom of the object and held it tightly as he looked into the end with the hole.

He saw what was in there.

It was the last thing Tensha saw as the bullet passed through his eye and exited the back of his head.