This story ends, Like so many begin, With the flashing of a gate. Inside a room, inside a cave, inside a mountain, An old man stands where this story began, and the children of the gods took their first steps through the white blue pool.
Inside a room an old man watches as the ring of their ancestors is lifted out of the mountain. For now it need not be hidden, for the children have taken their birthright and over shadowed their parents. Millions of people guided by the light of the Fifth race, descendents of the First and the children of the city lost beneath the waves.
Inside a room an old man listens to all the people talking, his children and the children of long dead friends. Representatives from a thousand star systems and two galaxies gathered to celebrate a new age. Hundreds of scattered worlds once again connected to their brothers and sisters by a web of blue-white light.
Inside a room an old man stands unseen as the lights are turned off for the last time. The old man who used to be a young man who deciphered the symbols of the star gate, one of the first to walk through the blue-white pool and the last of his friends to leave this plane and join their ancestors. Inside a room, inside a cave, inside a mountain as the last lights are turned off there is a yellow flash of light. The old man is gone the last of his time leaving the next story to his decendents.