Sephiraz was amazed these brief, transient beings made such a folderol out of the ending of one year and the beginning of another. It was, hardly, an incident of any importance to one such as himself who existed outside of the boundaries of time and space and, thus, attached no particular significance to such trivialities.
To be perfectly honest, he’d never visited this noisome realm before and felt no emotion whatsoever that, after tonight, there would be the cosmic equivalent of a blank space where once this plane had existed.
It had been rather presumptuous of those foolish Mayans to believe they could foresee his Masters’ intentions and what would come to pass; especially when their feeble calculations had been wrong.
Sephiraz stood poised by the ancient brass gong prepared, at the exact stroke of midnight, to strike it and, in so doing, end the existence of these base creatures, leaving them never even knowing what had hit them.
This story was written for the weekly Five Sentence Fiction flash fiction prompt: midnight.