The Last Traveler-The past is not just what has happend, it is what must happen.

Secrets of the Ancients

The silence was almost intolerable, punctuated only by the faint rustling of leaves and the distant roar of some ancient beast. He glanced at the two figures in front of him, their gazes filled with wonder and ancient wisdom. They were unlike any other humans he had encountered—primitive in appearance, but with a fundamentally different demeanor.

His thoughts raced as he attempted to make sense of what they had told him. The words were broken and halting, as if they were just learning to talk, but the idea was obvious. Their being here, in this planet, was not accidental. They were dispatched, chosen to ensure that history, as he knew it, happened just as designed.

"The past is not just what has happened," the man remarked, his voice deep and resonant like the echoes of an ancient cave. "It is what must happen."

The woman went on, her voice lower but as powerful, "Our actions now lay the groundwork for the world you came from." "We are the start of what will be."

He couldn't believe what he heard. These people were more than just chance survivors of a cosmic disaster; they were the builders of history itself. And now, by some twist of fate, he was a part of that plan.

As he listened, his mind was filled with questions. If these people were supposed to create the future, then every event he witnessed—every great occurrence, every victory and tragedy—was predetermined. The thought made his stomach turn. He wasn't just seeing history; he was making sure it went exactly as it should.

But how was he expected to achieve this? He didn't know where to begin.

His thoughts returned to the myriad secrets of human history, including the magnificent pyramids of Egypt, the cryptic Stonehenge, the Nazca Lines, and other ancient wonders. Could it be that these were not only the inventions of early civilizations, but rather the work of these ancient beings, led by someone like him? Were these wonders of the globe purposefully built to preserve the timeline, to keep history on track?

"The pyramids..." he muttered, suddenly connecting the dots. "They weren't just tombstones. They were designed to preserve information, align with the stars, and serve a larger purpose."

The woman nodded, a tiny smile on her lips, as if she could see his revelation coming. "You must teach us," she continued, her voice demanding. "You must show us how to build, how to create what will stand the test of time."

He swallowed hard, the burden of his duty resting heavily on his shoulders. He would have to teach them everything—how to survive, how to build, and how to ensure that the monuments and markers needed for the future were in place. These beings would become the first architects of human civilization, and he would lead them.

Days passed in a blur as he grasped his new role. He demonstrated how to make stone tools, how to ignite a fire using friction from wood, and how to hunt and gather food. Every step was deliberate, and each lesson was carefully planned to ensure that the timeline remained unbroken. He knew that the stories they painted on the cave walls would one day be discovered by archaeologists, and their interpretations contested by experts who would never know the true origins of the drawings.

However, as the days passed into weeks, a horrible conclusion dawned on him. If everything had to go exactly as it had in his history books, then every atrocity, battle, and moment of agony was required. Was he truly merely a player in some vast cosmic game, ensuring that even the darkest chapters of human history unfolded as they should?

The thought tormented him, especially at night, when he sat outside the cave, gazing up at the stars that had previously guided his ancestors. Now, those same stars filled him with dread, a reminder of the many generations who would suffer as a result of his actions here. He was no longer just a passenger; he was a willing participant in the impending horrors.