The Norbid Peninsula worshipped a wanderer. An enigma, a man of many names. To the four thousand and two citizens He was the man who could make stars supernova with a click of His fingers. He could send the darkest and most evil of all beings into black holes if He chose to. Because He could. And because He had the power to do whatever He liked. There was no superior to Him; there was no one who dared to be. Only the bravest, or most stupid, of beings would challenge His authority; to try and better His judgement.
They never lived to see another sun rise.
He was always alone. Even when He travelled with "friends" He was still alone. Because friends didn't keep secrets from one another (and He had the biggest secret of them all). A friend doesn't put other friends in danger (He's lost people before. Some He can never see again).
So He didn't have friends. He could never have friends.
He hasn't even got His own people for company any more. He's the last of His kind and it was completely out of choice. He would never admit to that though. He will tell you that there wasn't any other option. In order to save millions of different species, He had to turn on his own kind because there wasn't any other way.
There was another way. There always is.
That doesn't make Him a bad person though. The inhabitants of the Norbid Peninsula believe that He just wants to be loved. He wants someone to come along and tell Him that they would die without Him. No one will ever come. They all leave Him in the end; they find someone else to love, or they long for a normal life or worse, He kills them (literally and metaphorically).
But He's used to that by now.
The Norbid Peninsula worships a wanderer. An enigma, a man of many names. A God.