Great things are manifested in the simplest ways. Thus, it was at a completely unremarkable place and on ordinary evening that the story was first told.

As the young man of no more than fourteen years of age approached the ramshackle old cabin by the sea, he paused to take a breath and reflect upon his surroundings. He could hear the waves pounding against the rocks nearby, the gulls squawking, and the light rasp of his own breath. The sky was that light purplish-gray seen so often before dusk.

The boy started walking again toward the porch of the small cabin. Nearing the doorway, thoughts started to race through his head. "Why was my father's dieing request for me to come to this rat-hole of a place and meet my godfather- when I have never even met the old lunatic beforec and what was this business of him telling me 'the secret'? Why did my father have to die? To think that he did not even tell me he loved me before he died- all he said was just to come to this god-forsaken place."

Just as his anger toward his father was being replaced by other more random thoughts, he reached up and knocked on the old wooden door three times. Which was quickly answered, by a single howl from the interior: "Oi!" As the door began to open, the boy got his first glance of his godfather.

Nobody could remember when he had moved there. It seemed as though he always had been there. The elders of the village by the coast had remembered the times when they were sent to the old man's cabin to go barter for his vegetables and eggs. They could remember clearly walking along the long rocky road by the cliff to get to his shanty of a house at the edge of a cliff. In those times, he had always been kind to them, albeit a little strange. However, what made the memory of this man stick in their heads was his appearance. His hair was thick and black, almost like a horse's. His skin was not like theirs, sure it looked white enough, but there was a subtle tinge of an almost yellow pigment. But the part that stood out the most was his eyes. They were not round, but oval- nor was the color gray, but rather a dark chestnut brown. All in all, even in the old times it seemed as through this man was somdehow was too different to be thought of as just an old man- everyone knew that there was more too it than that, but no one really had an interest in finding out. Everyone just knew him as Old Takio.

The man's face was a gaunt mask. His skin seemed to strech over the bones of his face without the padding of fat. With his coal-like eyes he slowly examined the youth.

"Excuse me, you dropped this"

***

On a not so distant planet there lived a race of beings known as Sansenta. The Sansenta resembled humans in most ways, except for the fact that their bodies where not made of flesh and blood but rather of composites and fuel. like humans, none of them knew who created them, nor did anyone know why. their beginings were reside somewhere in the vastness of eternity. thus, it could have happend millions of years ago or it could be happening now.