The new world opened in front of them as they stepped out of an object that was very much like a space shuttle though it was barely the size of a tenth of the nails on their pinkies. The object’s size would vary depending on if it was empty or full. It contained all the amenities that they needed to travel slowly through time and space. They would get into the machine with chips that were integrated into their eyes. They had to only look at the machine and concentrate.
They looked as one being the low terrain of which the greenness and coolness compared only to the beginning times of their own world. The beauty and habitability of this world was tempting to them. But they had not come here to admire the view, but to look for something that kept their world together and which had been mysteriously lost to them some years or centuries ago.
They were looking for the Guardian of the Arc of the Sky, its being would change from dimension, place and time. They did not know exactly what they were looking for, but into them were built the last recognition chips. They were needed to find the Guardian. The sensors of the ship of the Guardian’s priests had led them to this world that seemed newly created.
They were the Last Ones, the last hope of their home world. A home world that was on the brink of destruction. The gods of iron, the leaders of their world, had told them to go get the Guardian. They were the last ones of the descendants of the gods of gold. The gods of gold had been a legendary people who had ruled the home world many millions of years ago. They had made the Guardian of the Arc of the Sky. Their very last hope.