He’d always been a loser. Ever since his mum died, his irrelevant life as an orphan was patronised by his cruel stepbrothers. Books became but his only shelter from the sharp edges of a hostile world.

But he had learned to appreciate the signs, though. Hidden messages that, carefully enough, he would note down and decipher. They all pointed out to a date and time that, inexorably, were getting closer.

Now they would all speak of those lights –brighter than stars and the moon–. Doomsayers would put it down to the apocalypse. The most popular theory claimed they were polar auroras emerging from climate change.

He smiled, as he awaited the new order. He would reveal his true identity when the visitors arrived. Only then would he settle scores.