The air shifted the moment they crossed the threshold.
The warm sun and ancient scent of Sumer were gone, replaced once more by the familiar, comforting aroma of roasted coffee beans and the low hum of a half-empty cafe.
The Portal of Time, now silent behind them, shimmered faintly for a moment before vanishing completely.
Elian stumbled slightly, catching himself on the edge of the table as they emerged.
He was still wearing the dusty tunic from ancient Sumer, now seeming absurd against the backdrop of modern-day tile floors and indie music playing in the background.
Selene appeared beside him, calm as ever, her long coat falling gracefully to her ankles as if not a single second had passed.
For a long while, Elian said nothing. He dropped into his usual chair and let his thoughts spiral.
He had seen it the cradle of civilization. Not through grainy photographs or textbook reconstructions, but with his own eyes. He had heard the language, felt the sun of that time on his skin, smelled the wet clay in his hands. And now… it was gone.
"How do you feel?" Selene asked quietly.
Elian took a breath. "Like I was gone for years… but I know it was barely an hour."
She nodded. "Time doesn't pass the same way when you travel. Your body remembers, even if the world doesn't."
He closed his eyes and leaned back, fingers brushing the edges of a map he'd left folded earlier that morning. "I met people. Real people. They laughed, cried, worked… lived.
And they never knew anyone would remember them."
"That's often the case," Selene replied. "History tends to remember kings and wars, not the ones who tilled the soil or carved the first words."
He sat up and looked at her, his eyes searching. "Why me? Why show me this? You could've picked anyone."
"I didn't pick you, Elian," she said, voice softer now. "The past did."
That answer only left more questions.
Elian returned to his dorm later that evening, though everything felt different.
The room was the same neatly organized stacks of books, a pinned world map with notes scribbled along the borders but he wasn't. He stared at the journal lying open on his desk. It was meant to be for class notes, but tonight, he began to write something else.
March 3rd. I walked the streets of Ur. I saw the ziggurat rise beneath the hands of thousands. They didn't know what they were building would outlast them. I wonder if any of us ever do.
He paused.
There was a boy. Twelve, maybe thirteen. He offered me bread even though he had so little. He smiled when I told him his city would one day be remembered. I don't even know his name.
His pen hovered.
Does it matter?
He closed the journal and exhaled. There was a new weight in his chest not burden, exactly. Something more like responsibility.
The next morning, he met Selene again at the Cafe. She was already seated, flipping through a book he hadn't seen before.
"You came back," she said without looking up.
"Of course I did."
She finally met his gaze. "Not everyone does."
He took the seat across from her. "You said the past chose me. Fine. I'll listen. But I need to understand it not just the events, but the people. The reasons. The meaning behind it all."
Selene closed her book and smiled. "Then you're ready."
"For what?"
Her eyes gleamed like ink under lamplight. "To see Egypt."
Elian's pulse quickened.
She reached beneath the table and pulled a small, smooth stone the color of polished bone. The moment she placed it between them, the air thickened with ancient heat.
"You've seen the beginning," she said. "Now, it's time to witness the monuments they left behind."
Elian placed his hand over the stone.
And again, the world dissolved.