There's no reason to change your plan now. A flat out sprint gets you within reach of the bags, and you scurry into an alcove formed by two of them. The noise from outside is what you imagine the end of the wolr dwould sound like.
You cower in the darkened recess, hoping that the gods and goddesses outside will forget all about you and get back to their work.
Your hopes are shot when light streams in on you from above, one of the bags lifted easily by the phenomonal strength of a giant. He looks down at you, grinning, and says:
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