Chapter 24 - CHAPTER 24

A/N: so you prefer if I write the chapter name in chapter place or in text place, I don't even understand what I'm writing 😂

And f—k I just realize I made error in the date

—-

Chapter 24: still breezing

Year: 2200 BC

Location: Ancient Egypt, near the Nile Delta

Pluto, now known by a different name—Benjamin—had settled into a quiet life. The blacksmith shop he had built with his own hands stood firm beside the bustling riverbanks, a testament to his patience and craft. He was no longer the cold and distant figure of legend; instead, he embraced the rhythms of ordinary life, the warmth of human connection, and the subtle hum of civilization growing around him.

Each day, Benjamin woke before dawn, preparing his forge as the sun slowly painted the sky in shades of amber and rose. Villagers and traders came by, bringing goods and stories from far-flung places. He greeted each one with a gentle smile, his hands steady and sure as they shaped iron into tools, weapons, and ornaments. But beneath this calm exterior lay centuries of experience, battles fought, alliances formed, and secrets kept.

Benjamin's true power was hidden beneath layers of carefully woven illusions. To those around him, he aged naturally, grey streaks appearing in his hair, the occasional crease marking his face. But when night fell and solitude claimed him, he shed these veils and remembered who he was — the timeless being who had seen empires rise and fall.

Over the decades, Benjamin became a pillar in his community. He shared his skills, teaching eager apprentices the art of blacksmithing. His shop became a place of learning and exchange, where wisdom flowed as freely as the Nile itself. Though many respected him, only a few knew fragments of the truth—that the blood coursing through his veins was no ordinary blood, but that of Pluto, the ageless sovereign who commanded legions unseen.

The Timeless Phantoms, his shadowy organization, continued their quiet watch from the shadows. Occasionally, messengers came with news or requests, but Benjamin chose his moments carefully, intervening only when absolutely necessary. To him, the balance of the world was delicate, and he was not yet ready to reveal the full extent of his power.

One evening, after a long day spent hammering steel and trading stories, a familiar figure approached the shop. A woman cloaked in subtle mystery, her eyes reflecting the stars themselves. She was one of the few who truly understood Benjamin's secret.

"Master Benjamin," she said softly, bowing her head. "The Timeless Phantoms send their greetings and await your command."

Benjamin nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "Tell them… we remain vigilant. But my path must diverge for now. There is more to learn, and more to become."

The woman's eyes flickered with something between respect and sorrow. "We obey, Master. Protecting you is our greatest privilege."

Benjamin smiled faintly. "Good. Remember, not all battles are fought with swords. Some require patience, observation, and time."

As the night deepened, Benjamin allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The world was vast, full of mysteries yet to be unraveled, and the centuries ahead held promises and perils alike.

But first, he would walk among men again—learning, growing, blending.

—-

Years later — 2180 BC, Ancient Egypt

Benjamin's blacksmith shop had grown into a small but vital hub within the village. His apprentices worked diligently under his watchful eye, hammering iron with growing skill, their faces streaked with soot and sweat. Benjamin was patient but exacting, teaching them not only the craft but the discipline behind it.

Despite the simple life he projected, Benjamin's senses remained razor-sharp. He observed the subtle shifts in the political landscape — whispers of power struggles between city-states, the rising influence of Pharaohs, and the spread of new religions and philosophies. Though he rarely spoke of such matters, his knowledge ran deep, accumulated from decades of living unseen on history's edge.

One afternoon, as the sun beat down on the dusty streets, a young messenger arrived breathless, bearing a sealed scroll. Benjamin broke the seal and read quickly, his face unreadable.

The Timeless Phantoms requested a meeting. They needed guidance, and this time the matter was urgent. Mutants—those gifted and dangerous—had been detected near the eastern borders. Their abilities could either be a threat or an asset, and the organization needed Benjamin's wisdom.

At sunset, beneath the vast sky painted with hues of purple and gold, Benjamin met with the Phantom's envoy in secret. The envoy was a woman of fierce loyalty, her eyes bright with determination.

"Master Benjamin," she began, "the mutants grow in number and strength. Some wish to serve; others, to rebel. We ask you to send one of your trusted lieutenants to assess the situation."

Benjamin considered. "Ilias will take this task. He has the mind for strategy and the patience to guide. But remember—our priority is Earth's protection, not conquest."

The envoy bowed. "Understood."

As the meeting ended, Benjamin allowed himself a brief smile. His shadow spread wider now, through the Timeless Phantoms, through the quiet men and women acting unseen.

Later, as twilight wrapped the village in cool shadows, Benjamin returned to his forge. The rhythmic pounding of hammer on anvil echoed, a heartbeat in the night.

In those moments, he was neither a god nor a legend. He was a man, shaped by centuries but grounded in the simple act of creation. Yet beneath it all, his true journey had only just begun.

---

The years flowed like the Nile, steady and unyielding. Benjamin's blacksmith shop became a fixture of the village—its warm glow a beacon against the desert's chill nights. Yet time was no friend to those around him; faces aged, children grew to elders, and the world changed beyond recognition. But Benjamin remained.

A quiet mystery to many, the villagers whispered tales of the man who never seemed to age. Benjamin moved among them with a calm purpose, never drawing unnecessary attention. Behind his gentle smile lay the secret of his blood—Pluto's essence coursing through his veins, granting him unnatural longevity and strength.

When decades passed and the villagers he had once taught were now gray-haired, Benjamin devised a plan. Using a subtle illusion, he allowed himself to appear aged, a man who had lived a full life and was ready to pass the torch.

"Father," he told the villagers one morning, "it is time for me to leave, but I leave this shop in your hands. My father built it before me, and now it is your turn to carry it forward."

With that, he vanished for nearly thirty years, traveling through distant lands, wandering as a craftsman and seeker of knowledge. His heart never strayed far from the shop or the people who had come to trust him.

Upon his return, he assumed a new identity—Benjamin's son. Claiming to be the rightful heir to the forge, he spoke with pride of his "father's" legacy, rekindling old ties and breathing new life into the village's humble hub.

Though the faces had changed, the spirit of the place remained. And so Benjamin, forever a wanderer, continued weaving his legacy into the tapestry of history—always present, yet always elusive.

---

Years had slipped by like grains of sand in an hourglass. Benjamin, now known by many names, had grown comfortable with this quiet life, blending into the ebb and flow of the village. Yet, beneath his calm exterior, his mind was restless—always reaching, always searching.

One late evening, as the sun dipped beyond the horizon and painted the sky in hues of amber and violet, a messenger arrived from a distant city. The seal bore a symbol Benjamin recognized—the emblem of the Timeless Phantoms.

The messenger bowed low and spoke in hushed tones, "Master Benjamin, the Council requests your presence. There is a matter of great importance concerning the protection of our world."

Benjamin's eyes, sharp and knowing despite his outward age, narrowed slightly. "Tell them I will come, but this time… on my terms."

As the messenger departed, Benjamin allowed himself a rare smile. The world was vast, and though he walked among mortals, his destiny was anything but ordinary.

That night, by the fire, he reflected on the strange duality of his existence—a wanderer to some, a warrior to others. The timeless blood in his veins pulsed with renewed purpose. His journey was far from over.

Before sleep claimed him, a whispered promise escaped his lips: *"The age of shadows is ending. The true dawn is yet to come."*

---

*Year: ~2120 BC*

*Location: Border of the Red Lands (Pre-Egyptian Upper Kingdom)*

An old contact from the *Timeless Phantom* appeared. Dressed in common garb, but bearing a sigil only few could read. She knelt before him, whispering, "The stars shift. Something stirs in the east. A power unfamiliar. We request your sight."

Pluto, still in his identity as *Harak*, stood from his meditation, brushing sand from his lap.

"I've taught you to watch," he said. "Not to depend."

"We watched, master," she said. "But there are whispers now… of sorcery. Of places where time moves slower. Men call them sanctums."

Pluto's expression didn't change, but something stirred in him.

Sanctums.

Magic.

Something beyond the reach of blood or time.

"Where?"

She paused, then simply said, "We don't yet know. But we will find it."

He gave a small nod, then turned to the horizon.

"Then it's time," he whispered.

***

Later that night, as he sat beneath the stars beside a fire of blue flame, Ilias appeared from the shadows — no longer boy nor warrior, but a leader of his own. His once-wild eyes now held maturity and weight.

"They asked where you're going," Ilias said.

"And what did you tell them?"

Ilias grinned. "To learn something new."

"You already learned all there is."

Pluto stood slowly, the starlight reflecting off his silver eyes. "Wrong. I've learned all that mortals can offer."

He turned toward the east, where ancient wind carried something deeper than knowledge — *mystery*.

His journey would now lead him where time did not flow linearly, where souls bent to will, and where knowledge came with unbearable cost.

*Kamar Taj was waiting.*

***

A/N: since no body have idea don't tell me I don't come and criticize me in my novel I'm just angry mostly because I made error

Also cheer me up by giving me a power stone