In the edge of space, at the edge of time, and at the edge of a small cliff that never ends, a man stands in desperate haze...
waiting for a small, brown, cardboard box. Inside this small borwn cardboard box is a thing - a thing known only to him - the man, on the cliff. What it is that this thing might be... well, for all that we know, it could be the solution to all of life's problems.

It might could be, but it probably isn't.

It also probably isn't the winning lottery ticket.

This man waits.

And the wind blows hard the rains of a thousand decaying Frost Giants.

He waits.

Anyone with the unfortunance of having seen this man might have righ then cried at the sight of him - waiting there on the edge of the cliff. But what knoweth the Kingdom of the King is nothing.

He waits.