Adam's gaze grew distant, the dim lighting casting ghostly shadows on his face. The cool, musty air of the chamber seemed to grow even colder as he delved deeper into his memories, his voice taking on a reverent tone.
"Centuries ebbed away as fleeting moments in Ninhursag's embrace. Our bond gave birth to countless descendants, and as they flourished and spread across Tertius, they began to form tribes, establishing territories in the shadow of the vast mountain ranges and dense woods."
He chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the dim chamber.
"They were called many names, Neanderthals, Denisovans... depending on who you asked and which lands they came from. But to me, they were simply my children."
As the tribes grew, it became evident that they needed guidance and structure.
"With the weight of lineage and wisdom, they looked up to me,"
Adam whispered,
"anointing me as their king, the ruler of all proto-humans."
