Manning stared out at the slowly growing city, buildings being repaired, machines being renovated, and a single group of the new people constantly congregated at the pillar he'd created from the technologies he'd discovered. He took off his golden mask, ghasping as the time shield he'd created around himself shut down with it's removal. It was an invention second only to his time machine itself, all those years, even for him, ago. He knew most people would never believe his friend's story, but they would learn, eventually, that H.G. Wells had only been telling the truthes he had told, as the Time Traveler.

He smiled at the small people swirling around him, rebuilding the world their many times ancestors had created. Making it over again, with new technologies. He put his golden mask back into place, dizzy from allowing time to take hold of him once again, allowing himself to leave the temporal suspension that kept him, and the former Eloi, from aging. His companion had asked that his own suit be made in black, and Manning had more than agreed, there was room in the design for personal variants. There was also room for…specialization. Manning had been experimenting among the six "herds" of eloi that he had discovered, and defended, with the help of his Golden Age assistant, Nihru. Nihru of course, had been the first to realize the "ancient man"'s potential, and had let him in on the new principals of science that had been discovered, but it was the Time traveler's imagination that had created every thing his eyes now set opon. Earlier, this last piece of humanity had been doomed, doomed to die, and diminish, but he couldn't let that happen. Not after what had happened to Weena.

Nihru stepped forward, his special light absorbing armor oddly shiny in the brilliant sunlight that almost made the middle aged Time Traveler's glow. His mask was off, though it certainly didn't need to be, and his dark hair was tied back from his hairless face.

"Well, brother. Their worshipfulness towards you grows almost daily, the more they wear your armor."

"Their intelligence is increasing, within a few days, they might even be able to read everything I've written on that rock, instead of just the first three concepts we taught them."

"Unity, Duty, Destiny, yes."

The two humans stood at the edge of the rapidly developing Eloi, one in brilliant gold, the other, clothed in eternal shadow, sleek and ominouse as his "brother" was bright and luminous. Manning turned to his companion, taking off his own mask, despite the loss of the energy it fed him. "They worship you too brother, for defeating the Morlocks in their own caverns."

He snorted, much to Manning's discomfort. "They honor me, 'brother'. They Worship you. Who is it, I wonder, that received the title of "great one", for giving them a substance that served as stone, water, and mineral purpose all at once? Or granted them knowledge, and the intelligence to use it? Who they honor as a God for saving them, for the abilities that you hold?"

"No need to be bitter, Nihru-"

The dark haired human snarled, shoving his companion backwards. Manning stumbled, planting an armor clad foot deep into the earth. "Brother!" Manning said, slipping into the Eloi that had become more natural to him, in his fifty plus years of speaking it, than English, or the toung of the golden age, "What is it that is bothering you so!"

Nihru looked at his mask. "Do you not know, brother, that I am Makut, Lord of Shadows? Or that you, to these people, are Mata Nau, their God?"

He set the mask on his face, the material locking onto the rest of the suit, sleek as ever, but now, ominouse.

"Goodbye brother. It's my turn to rule."