Chapter 1: The Fragility of Time

What do we truly understand about our past?

How delicate is our existence?

Will we fade into oblivion?

Priest

For years, I believed I was an intellectual, a visionary residing among those less enlightened. Before my journey, I often fantasized about experiencing life in a different era. In those dreams, one realization emerged repeatedly: if one ventured far enough back in time, they would most likely find themselves enslaved.

And indeed, that was my fate. All the knowledge of the future is meaningless if you lack the ability to communicate or comprehend the customs of those around you. Can you imagine the fate that awaited you if you were to appear before the Greeks or Romans, completely unprepared and vulnerable?

Naturally, you would become a slave. That was precisely what transpired in my case. The details remain a mystery to me.

Initially, I spent several years in servitude to the people of Kutani. My rudimentary understanding of the 21st century allowed me to rise as a leader among the other slaves. My basic skills in organization distinguished me from the rest. Had I paid more attention in math class, I might have reached even greater heights here. My limited grasp of geometry gave me a sense of superiority, which felt unjust.

But those thoughts belonged to a different life. I began to realize that, in many respects, the wisdom of the ancients surpassed what I had learned in my future, set in 2023 BC. After being sold from the Kutani tribe to the Thynanians, and then to the Lasyri, I discovered much that history books overlooked.

When the reality of my situation first struck me, disbelief ensued. I succumbed to madness, but through the physical demands of my labor, I gradually regained my senses and accepted my position in the fabric of time.

No matter how my mind wrestled with the idea, I was not delusional. I had traversed time. One moment, I was camping in the desert; the next, I awoke, disoriented and naked in a different desert. Initially, I suspected it was a prank orchestrated by my friends during a night of revelry. Yet, the longer I wandered, the clearer it became that I had truly entered another era.

My second instinct was to think it was a bizarre reality show. The entertainment industry had reached extreme lengths back then. After days of wandering in search of sustenance, the line between dreams and reality blurred. Ultimately, the pain I experienced brought me back to clarity. I had traveled through time. How far back had I gone? It was impossible to tell. Certainly, thousands of years.

Eventually, I deduced that the absence of agriculture and domesticated animals indicated I was among hunter-gatherers. We moved frequently, hunting massive creatures and igniting the landscape.

One day, my master observed me tending to flowers in front of one of our camps. I understood that we would not remain there long, yet the simple act of gardening provided me a sliver of sanity. When I caught his gaze, I noticed a look of confusion on his face. He began to see my potential as I illustrated concepts to the other workers and guided them in our tasks.

He regarded me as if he recognized me, as if someone had spoken of me before. I had traveled far back in time—further than history had recorded. Was this my origin? Where exactly was I? Those questions haunted me for a long time, and I doubted I would ever find the answers.

The Tsari, a maritime community, informed me that they would transport me to the Capital—a radiant city where my capabilities as a clever slave would fetch a high price. I boarded the vessel, hoping to uncover the truth.

“Atlantis,” one of the crew casually mentioned. It was a name I hadn’t heard in ages, and it made me chuckle. Their puzzled expressions indicated they were unaware of its significance.

The conspiracy theorists had been correct. Upon my arrival, laughter erupted from me. The structures appeared to float on water, elegant vessels glided gracefully, and pyramids towered in the distance. I witnessed the construction techniques employed to position immense stones up steep pyramid inclines, driven by the power of sound. Using hammers, the strongest men I had ever encountered resonated deep gongs behind a group of slaves, who pushed what seemed like featherweight rocks. The metals shimmered in odd hues, and the resonant sounds, accompanied by the priests' chants, were unlike anything I had ever heard.

Madness or a dream? Where was I?

Atlantis was breathtaking—a realm of towering edifices reminiscent of my home. However, there was no time to explore; we headed directly to the auction block.

A lineup of men awaited their fate, and I recognized some of them. Later, the reasons for my recognition would become clear. But at that moment, I dismissed the sensation, having been through auctions before. I was merely another commodity.

Then I heard it…

“Are you Joseph?” An Atlantian spoke English. The sound struck me like lightning, and I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face. To my side, I heard familiar languages—French, Spanish, Italian, German…

The men beside me shared the same bewildered expressions. We exchanged glances, time travelers adrift in a temporal sea.

“Come, Joseph; we have much to discuss.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh, I am the one who brought you here, Joseph. Did you think you were alone in this? Come, you have much to share with me.”

Chapter 2: The Secrets of Atlantis

The first video explores the concept of time travel and its implications in a fantastical setting, unraveling the mysteries that lie within ancient civilizations.

The second video delves into the musical essence of 'Time Slave,' capturing the essence of the narrative through sound and rhythm, enhancing the storytelling experience.