He was walking as of looking for something or someone. As if he was true, and the world somehow a dream or a lie of some kind.

He remembered being here as a child. He remembered standing and walking and seeing in amazement and wonder what was before him.

Surely there was a basis, a beginning to all of this!

Memories tugged elusively, fully real yet ethereal.


From whence came this modern edifice, this sprawling, complex society? No one seemed to recall or be able to tell, precisely, whose work it was.

Who could take credit for it? What enabled such a world?

What common creed, what ethos, what agreement had enabled this people to do this?


How many ages had passed while he had waited? The sheer magnitude of it all staggered the imagination. Comprehending the fulness, the enormity of it all eluded his mind.

What had they done?

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