Night had reached its darkest hour.
The mountains stood in silence.
The sea held its breath.
And upon the Omega Watchtower, only one sentinel remained.
He did not watch the armies.
He did not count the fires.
He did not fear the hordes climbing out of the valley.
His eyes were fixed on something higher.
Far higher.
Then…
the Star appeared.
Not as a light in the sky,
but as a wound torn open in the darkness.
The heavens seemed to hold their breath.
The shadows faltered.
The wind changed its course.
Even the armies ceased their advance.
Then the sentinel understood what no king had ever dared to understand.
The Hour had come.
The hour when every watchtower would cease searching for the enemy…
…and begin waiting for the King of Peace.