Iscian date: 20984.0

Andalite date: year 0.784

Yoort date: Generation 6, late-cycle

Earth date: none yet.

Aramon was in bed, waiting. He was dying.

Friends and family gathered around his bedside while his guards stood at the door. Outside, all the people on his planet were waiting. He was their leader, their savior. At the second he died a signal would be given out. That signal would tell the people of which tribe the next Misura was to be born of; the next savior.

The Misura, as everyone knew was the most powerful and holy being in the universe. They could create entire planets, and harness the energy of a sun. There was no comparison to their power.

There was no stopping it.

A cry rang out from the temple where Aramon lay. His hand had gone limp. In a swirling ball of fire, ice, wind, and rock… the signal formed high over the planet. It formed in the tribal symbol of the Airains.

Their savior had been born.