To the people involved, it was like glimpsing a rip in the fabric of the world.

Look for crevices… And droppings…

Dismantle? No. I can make a tear, at best. But only for a moment, because there's no--

Huh. Air seeping through the cracks. Passage must be here. Now how do I open it?

For a century or so. One winter I found shelter here, built a fire so large the flames leapt through the crack, lit the bushes above. I coughed from the smoke… and suddenly heard a peasant. "A voice outta nowhere," he called, "A miracle!" Thus I became a god.