The shepherd's head rose to the flashing of a comet's light, his jaw clenched, and his eyes grew unfocused. The sheep wailed, and the earth shook. The scales have tilted; the balance between nature and humanity has shifted. And with the fleeting light of the comet, everyone felt it.
Sometime later, a child was born, a child of light, like a beacon; he marked the beginning of the changing times. People with unknown abilities began to spring up, like a tempest of chaos coming from an oceanic horizon. While everyone else, like worker ants building the nest, people squirmed to pillage resources, preparing for the Armageddon to come. Theartning sheep galloping up town thinking themselves bulls. Weak man grew fangs that leaked poison. The streets spiralled red, and the roads became a playground for bad men with bad intentions. Morality turned a sword's dull, thrown-away, lions too, turned into sheep. So it was an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
In need, leaders rose, found their voice, demanded order, so the good man rose. Responsibility and stability seemed paramount, which left expression feeling hostile. Time passed, society reformed, and once fresh wounds became scars on the skin that screamed of lessons learned, lessons turned into laws. Society, though troubled and fearful, stabilised the curses that poked at them, turned into gifts and new hope.
But then another comet came, and men descended from the skies as if it were theirs to control and only theirs. Draped in strange and foreign armour. They didn't mingle their words; they simply demanded an audience with the world's "powers". As if it were their right. But who could deny them? They revealed themselves to the world in their entirety as their ships dipped into the Manhattan sky, leaving the environment unperturbed; even the ripple of their power was unheard. Such technology was unheard of, its potential unknown.
They met with the world's leaders and talked of things, origins and trade. The leader of the United States offered them a station and a stage out of the kindness of his heart. By doing so, the first voice from the outer world was heard. His voice was booming and sombre, with eyes that betrayed his stoic demeanour.
"People of Earth, I go by Jor-el. I'm speaking as the representative of my people. I was a scientist in our world. A world we lost, with many of our loved ones, we'll never get to truly mourn. I say this to say that we are nothing but humble refugees, regardless of origin. We are just people, people who lose, who love; we simply wish to rest our feet. Our journey has been long, and our losses hang heavy on us. Now we do not ask for charity; our loss is not your own. I do not ask you to invite us into your planet without personal gain on your own; that wouldn't be fair to you. We wish to share our knowledge, our technologies, our ways. We've discussed a great many things with you're leaders, that I'm sure they'll disclose with you shortly. Though impromptu as this news may be, your government has allocated some land to us, unowned, unused. Which we are more than grateful for. Now I leave you, with your leader."
With a speech as sudden as his entrance, he walked off the stage and stood beside the world leaders. All took pause. Beings came down from the heavens, somehow spoke our language, asked for refuge, spoke of peace, and trade. It was all so seamless, so fast. Humans felt an unease wash over them. Everything was so sudden, so unknown, the world got a lot bigger, and they so much smaller. The public felt somewhat helpless as if they were trapped within a dream.