Amon opened his eyes, but everything was different. The last time he had closed them, the world was wild, untamed, with no cities, no roads, and no machines. Now, all he could see was light, a glaring, artificial brightness that buzzed unnaturally overhead. His senses snapped to life as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

He was lying on a cold surface—smooth, too smooth for nature. The walls around him were made of some strange material, not stone or wood, but something else. Metal? Plastic? He sat up slowly, feeling the stiffness of his body, though he had long since grown used to the discomforts of immortality. His long slumber had left him groggy, and he reached for memories that refused to come quickly.

As he stood, his feet touched the ground, which was strangely warm. Amon frowned. Everything about this place felt foreign, alien. He looked down at his hands—still the same hands that had carried spears, broken bones, and tended to wounds thousands of years ago. The same hands, but now out of place in a world he could not yet comprehend.

"How long has it been?" he murmured to himself. His voice was hoarse, unused for what must have been centuries. His memories were fragmented, pieces of past lives and times blending into a confusing haze. He remembered being tired. He had wanted to rest, to withdraw from the endless march of humanity, watching as they built and destroyed civilizations.

Amon had lived through every human era—he had seen the rise of agriculture, the birth of cities, the fall of empires. He had watched humanity learn and forget their lessons time and time again. But at some point, the centuries had blended together, and he had grown weary. He had buried himself deep beneath the earth, in a hidden cave that no man would find. There, he had drifted into a deep slumber, the world fading away.

Now, he was awake. But where?

The door in the room slid open with a soft hiss. Amon's muscles tensed instinctively, ready for danger, but what entered the room made him pause. A man, dressed in strange garments that clung to his body, holding a small rectangular device, looked up from the glowing screen in his hand.

"Oh!" the man exclaimed, startled. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Amon. "You're… awake?"

Amon didn't reply. He studied the man—short hair, a soft face unmarked by scars, no weapons in sight. He was frail by ancient standards, but his clothes spoke of a different kind of power. Amon could sense it—the quiet hum of the device, the confidence in the man's posture. The world had changed in ways Amon could barely begin to understand.

"I'm Dr. Hayes," the man said, stepping forward cautiously. "We found you… well, we found something ancient, buried deep beneath the earth. But we never expected… this." He gestured vaguely toward Amon, as if unsure of how to categorize him.

Amon tilted his head. "What year is it?" His voice was low, but steady now.

"Year?" Dr. Hayes blinked, thrown off by the question. "It's… it's 2024. You've been… well, we don't really know how long you've been down there."

Amon's mind whirled. 2024. He had last walked the earth in a time when men used iron swords and rode horses into battle. He remembered seeing the fall of Rome, the rise of empires, and then… the need for rest.

"How did you find me?" Amon asked, his voice sharp now, a hint of authority returning.

Dr. Hayes shifted uncomfortably. "There was a geological expedition in the area. A strange anomaly was detected deep underground, and when we dug deeper… we found the chamber. The stone around you was unlike anything we've seen before. But you… well, you looked like you were sleeping."

Amon's mind was racing. He had hidden himself so well, burying himself beneath layers of rock and time, in a place no one should have found. Yet here he was, pulled from his sanctuary by humans whose technology had advanced far beyond anything he could have imagined.

"You're a mystery," Dr. Hayes continued, excitement creeping into his voice. "Your body shows no signs of aging, despite the dating of the cave suggesting you've been there for… well, millennia."

Amon didn't respond. Instead, he walked to the window on the far side of the room. As he looked out, his breath caught in his throat. The world beyond the glass was nothing like the one he remembered. Towering structures reached into the sky, gleaming in the light of the sun. Roads, unlike any he had seen before, crisscrossed the land, filled with strange vehicles that moved without horses. The sky was crisscrossed with thin lines of smoke or mist, and the noise—oh, the noise—was constant. It was a hum, a buzz of civilization that had evolved into something entirely alien to him.

"I have slept too long," Amon whispered to himself.

Dr. Hayes, standing behind him, cleared his throat. "There are many questions we have, of course. Your… well, your existence is going to change a lot of what we know about history, about human evolution. But… if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

Amon turned to face him. His eyes, ancient and piercing, locked onto the young man's. He could feel the weight of the ages settling on his shoulders once more. He had no desire to be a subject of study, a relic of the past. But the world he had known was gone. And now, in this new age, he would have to find his place once more.

"I am Amon," he said quietly. "I have been here since the beginning of humanity. And I have returned to see how far you have come."

Dr. Hayes stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. But Amon turned back to the window, watching the strange new world with a mix of wonder and dread.

For the first time in centuries, Amon felt something stir within him—curiosity, perhaps even excitement. The world had changed, but he was still here. And now, he would find his place in it once more.