The Prophecy was the centerpiece of mankind's mythology. No other entity in human history was worshipped more than you. You were the epitome of light, the brightest star in the universe. Your name was unknown, even to you. It was said that your existence was meant to stay a secret until you made yourself known to mankind. For millennia, your light shined upon the Earth. While the darkness was powerful, it never threatened to extinguish you as it did countless stars and other celestial bodies. Mankind praised you as the bringer of light, a unique being that can never be replaced. They said it was divine intervention that you never succumbed to the dark.
But that has changed. A storm is brewing across the Earth and it will soon engulf you. The darkness will peek inside you like an unwelcome intruder. You will take a step back, and darkness will begin to swallow you. Mankind will panic and fight against the darkness to keep you safe. And then …
After an unknown period of time, the prophecy will be fulfilled. And the light of the Prophecy and the human race will be snuffed out. The end.
The end of all things.
And it will all begin on Tuesday.
The lights will be dimmed as if mourning for you. People will gather around you to shower you with respect and adoration. Cities will be renamed, statues erected in your honor. Your legacy will become one of sadness and grief.
But it will be just a precursor to darkness.
You were born in a time of great conflict. You knew that the world would one day fall into darkness, and you knew it would be a dark and evil place. But you never foresaw that a small group of mad men had stolen the light that you were providing humanity and would eventually destroy the world. Warlords rose to power in the ancient world, and they brought on a war that would change the world forever. Countries would lay waste to each other as they fought for their own survival. Cities would be destroyed so that the war might come to a swift end. And people died. They died so that others might live.
And that's when it happened. All that death did something to your light. Fearing that the light would be lost forever, you did everything in your power to keep it, and yourself, alive.
But it wasn't the first time you died. For an instant, in a fraction of a second, your light began to dim, becoming engulfed in darkness, only to be returned to its original brightness by a release of energy. It happened again. And again. No matter how hard you tried, every time you were submerged by darkness, you were never able to fight it off for long. You were always able to overcome it, but you were never able to stop it. Every time you lost the battle, you would lose the light.
The only way to slow down the prophecy was to find a way to preserve the light when it dimmed. And so you created the Time Agent, a structure decked out with magi-tech that would keep your light alive whenever you died. In the beginning, the Time Agent accomplished all that it was able to achieve. The light was brought back to life before it vanished completely. It was like a doctor bringing the real light back into a patient's body through emergency surgery.
But eventually, you lost the ability to fight off the darkness. You lost the fight.