"According to recent media reports, local experts have discovered a modern-era tomb in the ravine of Mount San Juan Teotihuaca. Over three hundred valuable artifacts were found inside."
"Some of the relics appear to date back to the Classical period—or even earlier—and include ancient items from other parts of the world. This discovery could help fill major gaps in our nation's historical record…"
The news that ancient artifacts from across the globe had been unearthed in Mexico sent shockwaves through the academic world. Experts and scholars flocked to the site in droves.
At that very moment, halfway up Mount San Juan Teotihuaca, a man in a long black robe walked along the stone path winding through the ravine. His name was William Johnson.
Tourists bustled around him, snapping photos, chatting, laughing. The place was lively, almost festive.
"Fifty years ago, this was nothing but a barren mountain," William murmured to himself, glancing around at the crowd. "Hardly anyone came here back then. I never thought it would change this much."
He studied the people passing by with a faint smile on his lips. But his eyes—deep and endless like the sea—held a weight that didn't match his youthful face. He looked no older than twenty, clean-cut and handsome. But no one could've guessed just how many years he'd actually lived.
Memories surged through him like a tide.
There was a time when gods filled the skies, waging war with divine might. But they'd made the mistake of angering William. With a single palm strike, he ended that entire era.
Later, he taught early humans how to make fire. He showed Asclepius how to identify medicinal herbs. He guided Noah in building the Ark. Humanity survived—and eventually thrived—because of him.
To William, those were relatively recent events.
Eventually, he decided he didn't want to keep shaping the world with his own hands.
But fate had other plans.
Temples were built in his name. People worshipped him as a god.
Cleopatra VII, the last Pharaoh of Egypt, once uttered a single blasphemous remark about him—and her entire kingdom was wiped from the map.
William didn't want to be remembered. So he rewrote the myths. He invented Uranus and Gaia. Adam and Eve. He buried his name in legend.
Later, Alexander the Great became his student. After just three months under William's tutelage, Alexander went on to conquer vast territories—Greece, Egypt, Persia…
Alexander once asked him the secret to immortality.
William had only smiled. He didn't know the answer himself.
Still, Alexander built a tomb in his honor, complete with a statue.
…
Over the centuries, William had mentored many gifted individuals. Every one of them left their mark on history. But they were all long gone now. Only William remained.
He remembered the last time he went into hibernation—it was September 1945.
World War II was nearing its end. William had been living deep in the mountains. When he finally emerged, he found Pearl Harbor under attack by the Japanese. Enraged, he struck down with a single palm.
That strike became known to the world as the Hiroshima atomic bombing.
He no longer cared how history interpreted it.
But this time, upon waking, he made a vow to himself: never again would he let his emotions reshape the world.
Fifty years had passed in the blink of an eye for him. But for ordinary people, it was a lifetime.
"I wonder if any of them are still alive," he murmured, eyes calm but heavy with time.
Dressed in his flowing black robe, he walked among the tourists, drawing stares wherever he went.
"Is there a film crew up on Mount San Juan Teotihuaca? Is this guy an actor or something?"
"No idea, but damn, he's hot. I wonder what movie he's in."
"He's got this… vibe. I don't even know how to describe it."
…
People passing by couldn't help but whisper as they glanced back at him.
William had once lived atop Mount San Juan Teotihuaca. Before his last slumber, he'd ordered everyone around him to leave—everyone except his old housekeeper. If that man was still alive, he was probably still guarding the house.
As William made his way up the mountain, he overheard bits of conversation from passing tourists. Apparently, there was a "divine figure" living up there now—someone who could read fortunes and divine the future.
William couldn't help but shake his head. Anyone who had followed him in the past had gained something from it. That housekeeper, Timothy Hill, had picked up a few tricks—basic astrology, some fortune-telling. Now people were calling him a god?
To William, divination was child's play. For mortals, dabbling in such things without understanding the cost could be dangerous—deadly, even. If Timothy had become this famous, it meant he was still actively giving people advice. That was practically asking for death.
William quickened his pace.
He'd never liked peering into the future. Living forever was dull enough—knowing what was coming would only make it worse.
Still, a sudden unease stirred in his chest. Something told him Timothy Hill was in trouble today.
These days, Timothy's name was known across the world. Anyone lucky enough to meet him and receive his guidance inevitably rose to power and wealth.
More than that, he was close friends with several of the world's most powerful figures. On holidays, luxury cars lined the base of the mountain as elites came to pay their respects.
Even Bill Gates wouldn't dare speak to him without reverence.
When William finally reached the summit, he spotted his old home in the distance. Fifty years had passed, but the house looked just as it had before—clearly maintained and restored over the years.
Tourists were nowhere to be seen this high up. A hundred meters out from the house, security guards stood watch in every direction. Guards every ten steps, lookouts every five. The place was locked down tight.
People hoping to meet Timothy Hill could only wait at a stone table nearby, hoping for a chance.
William took a few steps toward the house, and immediately, a guard stepped in front of him.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
The guards were trained to keep out anyone who didn't belong. Timothy Hill didn't meet just anyone.
Before William could respond, two rich kids lounging nearby burst out laughing.
"Damn, look at this guy's outfit. What, does he think dressing like that's gonna get him in to see Mr. Hill?"
"Idiot. Even the old man from the Smith family has to send a formal request a week in advance. Who the hell does this guy think he is?"
William turned his head slightly and gave the two a calm glance.
The moment their eyes met his, both of them froze. A chill ran down their spines. Their mouths snapped shut.
They didn't know why, but a deep, primal fear gripped them. Just one look—and these two spoiled brats, who feared nothing and no one, were left trembling, unable to speak.
The guard noticed something was off. He narrowed his eyes and barked, "Hey! I'm talking to you! This isn't a place for you to wander around. Leave now, or I'll make you!"
William didn't respond.
Because at that moment, Timothy Hill knew he had returned.
Creaaak—
The door to the old house slowly opened.
An elderly man stepped out, hunched over, dressed in a simple white hemp robe. His hair was completely silver.
Everyone waiting nearby stood up at once.
"Mr. Hill is coming out!"
"Is he here to see me?"
"Shh! Don't speak! If you disturb him, the consequences could be serious."
Everyone on the mountaintop watched Timothy Hill with bated breath. Even the guard who had just been shouting at William straightened up and stood respectfully, not daring to say another word.
Only William remained still, standing where he was, locking eyes with Timothy from across the distance.
Timothy's face was lined with deep wrinkles, every crease a mark of time. The moment he saw William, tears welled up in his eyes. He staggered forward, legs unsteady.
William walked toward him as well.
The guard tried to block him again—but in the blink of an eye, William was already standing in front of Timothy.
Everyone around them went blank.
It was as if time had skipped a beat. No one could remember how William had moved. One second he was standing still, the next he was there.