The sky appeared darker than usual, as if the universe itself was holding its breath, anticipating something unseen yet profoundly urgent.
A gentle breeze swept through, carrying a piercing chill, while the stars seemed dimmer than on previous nights.
Above the horizon, eight planets aligned in perfect symmetry, creating a breathtaking view that had been the topic of discussions among scientists, poets, and everyday people for months.
Everywhere, in every corner of the Earth, people gazed at the sky with a sense of wonder they couldn't conceal.
The sight was like a divine painting, perfect and beyond the reach of human hands.
From the rooftops of towering skyscrapers to the quiet corners of villages without electricity, all eyes were fixed on the heavens.
The world seemed to pause for a moment to witness this rare phenomenon, an event that happens only once in thousands of years.
"Look, Mom, look! It's starting! The sky is getting darker!" a small child exclaimed, jumping up and down while pointing at the sky, their face glowing with curiosity.
The mother smiled softly, her gaze fixed on the same scene, her eyes filled with awe.
She captured the moment with her phone, determined not to miss a single second of the night's wonder.
"Yes, it's truly beautiful," she said, more to herself than to the child, as though trying to grasp the immense smallness of humanity in the vast expanse of the cosmos.
.
.
.
.
In another corner of the city, a group of young people stood by the roadside, their laughter and cheers filling the chilly night air.
Their eyes sparkled with excitement and enthusiasm.
"The world is finally witnessing something extraordinary!" one of them shouted, throwing his hands in the air.
"This isn't just extraordinary," another chimed in, his tone more serious.
"This is history! We're living in a time that will be remembered forever!"
Among them stood a young man in a worn denim jacket, gazing silently at the sky.
His face bore a serious, almost melancholic expression, as if the beauty he beheld carried a weight only he could comprehend.
.
.
.
.
History...
What do we really know?
.
.
.
.
Yet, not everyone shared the same feelings.
At the edge of a bustling marketplace, where vendors were packing up their goods for the night, an old man stood silently at the corner of the street.
His wrinkled face was etched with worry, a stark contrast to the awe and excitement radiating from the crowd around him.
With trembling hands, he clutched his wooden cane tightly, his lips moving in a barely audible murmur.
His voice was lost in the noise of the market, but for those close enough, his whispers carried the weight of a warning.
"All the planets... aligned? This is no good... no good at all..." he muttered, repeating the words as if trying to convince himself.
His tired eyes stared up at the sky, not with wonder, but with a deep, unsettling fear.
A nearby vendor, in the middle of folding his tarp, noticed the old man and shot him a curious look.
"Old man, what are you saying? Isn't this just a beautiful natural event? Scientists said it's perfectly safe," he asked, trying to coax some explanation.
The old man shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving the heavens.
"It's not just about beauty, son. This... this is a sign. Long ago, our ancestors believed that planetary alignment brought great change. Not all of it good. Sometimes... it marked the beginning of something terrible."
The vendor chuckled nervously, though there was a faint unease in his tone.
"Ah, maybe that's just old myths, sir. The world's modern now. We've got science to guide us."
The night grew darker, and the alignment of the planets shone even brighter, casting a mysterious glow that seemed to envelop everything beneath it.
.
.
.
.
Myths?
Something Terrible?
Are these just stories we keep repeating?
Or maybe, just maybe, there's a hidden truth behind it all?
.
.
.
.
14 billion years ago—
A massive explosion, what we now call the Big Bang, changed everything.
In one colossal burst, matter, energy, space, and time were born, laying the foundation for a universe that's still expanding to this day.
But have you ever stopped to wonder how humans even know about this?
Is it just the result of complex physics calculations?
Or is there something more to it?
Something deeper, more mysterious, something we still don't fully understand.
Do you believe it just like that?
Accept the theory without questioning it further?
.
.
.
.
Almost 4 billion years ago—
Earth was born, a scorching, inhospitable ball of rock. But time slowly transformed it.
Over billions of years, it became a fertile world, teeming with life.
Water filled its vast basins, forming oceans.
The once-toxic atmosphere evolved into one capable of supporting life.
Slowly, from simple molecules, the first organisms emerged, claiming this planet as their home.
Then came an explosion of life, plants, animals, and eventually, humans.
Humans...
Beings who consider themselves different, superior, above all other creatures.
But have you ever stopped for a moment to wonder, are we really that different?
.
.
.
.
Have you ever thought of yourself as not so different from the animals?
.
.
.
.
No, that's not it!
.
.
.
.
Why?
Is it because humans possess reason and intellect, while animals do not?
But don't we believe in the theory of evolution, which says humans evolved from apes?
If that's true, what is it that made humans become human, while apes remained apes?
Why does evolution seem to have stopped for them, but continued for us?
Homo sapiens, a species that views itself as superior to others.
Why are we the only ones, among the thousands of creatures, to have gained consciousness through the process of evolution?
Or... is there something we still don't understand?
Something else that played a role in this?
Could there be more to our evolution than mere natural selection?
What if there were influences beyond what we can perceive, things far beyond the realm of biology and genetics, things that guided our development in ways we've only just begun to question?
What if, like an unseen hand, something else has been quietly steering the course of our species?
.
.
.
.
Have you ever considered that the ancient humans often depicted in history books and displayed in museums might not be our direct ancestors?
Maybe they were just close relatives, more like apes or wise humans like us, but not truly our ancestors.
Have you ever thought that they were perhaps just a species that went extinct, an animal that couldn't survive the passage of time, like the mammoth or dodo, which once roamed the Earth but ultimately disappeared for various reasons—whether it was environmental changes, limited survival abilities, or perhaps even failure to adapt and reproduce?
.
.
.
.
Isn't it funny?
A truth.
.
.
.
.
A boy's voice broke the thick silence, shattering the calm that had almost seeped into the walls of the quiet library.
"Do you know about reincarnation?" His voice was soft, but there was an undertone of deep curiosity, as if he was waiting for a reaction.
His emotion—yes, the emotion I felt—was like a flame burning, curious and thirsting for answers.
I turned slowly, his words making me slightly more interested in his presence.
He gave a faint smile, almost imperceptible, as if he knew more than I did.
"Have you ever thought," he said carefully, each word seeming to be chosen one by one.
"That maybe we're just shadows of lives that once were?"
The voice drifted slowly, filled with hidden meaning.
"Have you ever felt like something is repeating, like you've already experienced something before—Deja vu, for example?" he added, his eyes locked on mine as though wanting to show the depth of his thoughts.
I stared at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"Previous life?" I asked in a flat tone, trying to maintain my expression.
"You think we're just trapped in an endless cycle?" I continued, trying to be polite and respectful.
He nodded slowly, his face becoming more serious.
"Maybe we're trapped in an endless loop," he said, his voice now deeper, heavier.
"A life that repeats, with different faces, but the same feelings."
I chose to remain silent, letting his words flow in the thick silence, as if the space around us grew tighter.
He looked at me, this time with a sharp gaze.
"I wonder," he said, his voice growing deeper, almost a whisper,
"do we really choose our path in life, or are we just repeating what was set out for us from the beginning?"
He paused for a moment, then quickly walked to the bookshelf, searching through the dusty pile of books.
"I wish the Akashic records were here…" he added with a hopeful tone,
"I really want to read them."
His words hung in the air, and the room felt darker, filled with mysteries left untold.
.
.
.
.
Earth, at this moment—
"Paranoid again?" Diego said with a small laugh, trying to ease the tension. His warm hand patted my shoulder.
"Come on, relax, Kai. R-E-L-A-X. Just enjoy the moment."
.
.
.
.
Nearly 4,000 years ago, a structure was built—
The pyramid...
What's so special about it?
Why is there always such a powerful allure to this structure?
I stand before the towering pyramid, as if it's challenging the sky with its grandeur.
Its majestic and solid form fills me with an unspoken sense of power.
The massive stones, arranged with such precision, seem to weave a mystery that has never been fully unraveled.
Why is it that pyramids, from ancient times to the present day, continue to captivate humanity's attention?
.
.
.
.
Wait a minute...
Who said it was just humans?
.
.
.
.
Too many gaps in our history, aren't there?
Gaps that remain wide open, filled with mysteries yet to be solved.
These voids stretch across time, leaving us with fragments of the past that only hint at something greater, something beyond our current understanding.
We're left to piece together the puzzle, but the pieces don't always fit.
Some are lost, others distorted, and the rest?
Well, they remain just out of reach, like fleeting shadows.
But does that mean we should give up?
Does it mean we should accept the silence as the final answer?
Should we lower our gaze, content with the scraps we've been handed and ignore the burning questions that still gnaw at us?
Should we stop searching for the truths that seem to hide in the most unexpected corners of our existence?
Does it mean we should settle for half-baked answers?
.
.
.
.
Long ago, it was said a great civilization once thrived beneath the waves—
This is insane...
"A lost civilization...? Atlantis, as they call it..." I murmured softly, my voice nearly drowned by the silence enveloping this place.
A sense of awe washed over me, making my chest tighten with overwhelming amazement.
I stood frozen, my eyes unable to look away from the scene before me.
Everything I thought was just legend, just empty stories passed down by people, now stood real before my very eyes.
.
.
.
.
Atlantis.
.
.
.
.
I saw it.
"This isn't just about discovering a civilization... it's about rediscovering a lost part of ourselves," I thought, savoring every second that felt so profoundly significant.
.
.
.
.
In a distant future—
Long after the stars above had witnessed countless rises and falls of civilizations.
The moon that night glowed an eerie shade of red, like blood dripping from a wound in the sky.
Its light burned with a strange anger, casting terrifying shadows that twisted and shifted, almost alive, across the ruined palace.
The dark halls felt like they were breathing, pulling in air from some other world, a place brimming with forbidden power and endless hatred.
I stood on the shattered peak of the palace, surrounded by blackened stone that looked as if it had been scorched by pure rage.
Everywhere I looked, destruction stretched as far as the eye could see, a grim reminder of a force far beyond anything I'd ever known.
In the distance, guttural sounds rumbled, like the earth itself was crying out under the weight of an invisible terror.
I touched the wound on my side, its sharp sting pulling me back to the moment.
Blood trickled down, leaving a trail that felt like a bridge between me and the darkness swallowing this place.
The creature responsible for all of this, the one that wouldn't stop, was still out there, lurking somewhere in the shadows of the ruins.
"Damn it…" I muttered under my breath, my voice rough and weak, trying to push past the pain clawing at me.
I forced myself to stand, even though my body felt like it was giving up. Every move was a struggle, like the world itself wanted to grind me into dust.
My hand reached out, brushing against the charred stone beneath me, searching for something solid to hold onto. Heat and cold swirled through me, making everything worse.
But even with all of it, the pain, the weight, the despair, one thing was crystal clear.
I wasn't going to let this world fall apart.
No matter what, I would keep going until I reached my goal.
.
.
.
.
July 20, 1969, at 20:17 UTC—
"This is Apollo 11. We've landed on the moon."
"We repeat, Apollo 11 has successfully landed on the moon."
The voice, clear and steady, broke through the stillness of the night, echoing across the world. Radios and televisions carried the words everywhere, spreading news that felt almost unreal.
That night, the world watched in awe as Apollo 11, with sheer determination and courage, touched down on the lunar surface.
.
.
.
.
But for Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, that moment was more than just an extraordinary achievement.
It was humanity's first step into an unimaginable realm, far beyond simply setting foot on the moon.
The profound silence that enveloped them as their spacecraft descended onto the lunar surface filled their hearts with an indescribable unease.
They were in the vastness of space, so far from their home, far from the lives they once knew.
This landing, meant to be the pinnacle of human accomplishment, unfolded in eerie quietness, evoking feelings that were hard to articulate.
Sometimes, great success comes with unspoken fears.
Cautiously, they stepped out of the Lunar Lander, descending the ladder, and for the first time set foot on the cold, desolate lunar surface.
Neil Armstrong's first step reverberated in the airless void, a moment destined to be remembered for centuries.
.
.
.
.
"That's one small step for me, but one giant leap for mankind."
.
.
.
.
"Why… why do I feel like something's off?" Armstrong's voice trembled slightly, the unease creeping in beyond mere exhaustion. He turned, his expression troubled, as if sensing something unseen watching from the vast emptiness around them.
Buzz Aldrin, standing nearby, felt it too, a strange tension hanging in the air.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting between Armstrong and the endless black of the lunar sky, so distant from Earth, yet somehow alive with an invisible presence.
.
.
.
.
"You're not supposed to be here," I whispered, watching the scene unfold—their fragile figures on this alien landscape, so far from where they truly belonged.
"Not yet," I muttered under my breath, the words laden with meaning.
.
.
.
.
Someone stared at the glowing holographic screen, their gaze sharp and knowing, as if they saw more than anyone else could.
A quiet voice inside them murmured, a thought they couldn't shake.
"Is this just the beginning?"