Chapter Text
Somewhere, deep in the dark, empty, abyss of our universe, floated a solitary consciousness.
He held no memory of what we call The Beginning, nor could he comprehend the circumstances surrounding his creation.
All he knew for certain... was that he was.
He’d beheld the birth of galaxies, witnessed a trillion stars burn and die, soaking in all their splendor and glory; he was truly and terrifically alone. At this time, though, he knew no such loneliness, rather taking pleasure simply in watching the creeping swell of our universe as it developed around him. Eventually, planets began to materialize around a blazing sun, and he found Earth, bright and young.
He watched on as bacteria evolved, watched on until the oceans boasted legions of individual living creatures. When they expanded to land, he was overjoyed, and as they continued to thrive and develop, he felt naught but pride. He eventually found himself taking a preference toward the primates, for he saw that they were different from the other creatures.
Humans could adapt. They could create; art, music, culture... he was enchanted by it all.
He came to them, and they took him on as one of their own.
He began exploring the world behind the guise of a lonely traveler, going on marvelous adventures fueled by his infinite curiosity and infatuation with all people. It was some place new every ten years, with one year out of the bunch to recoup and reflect. He engaged in everything- from tasting strange foods to the conquering of mountains, rainforests, and deserts- completely and utterly obsessed with the experience of humanity.
Due to the rather unfortunate inalterability of his physical form, he felt most often inclined to make shelter in Northern regions of the world during his breaks. Needless to say, his inexplicably modern-European appearance lead to plenty difficulty in exploring certain areas at certain times.
Since he’d begun these decennial outings, he’d been audience to many a happy family and good deed. But, of course, with every good experience came an encounter with war, famine, pestilence, hate... He’d been tortured in more ways than he’d care to remember, “executed” 47 times and counting, and even been a slave for a good number of years. He both feared and feared for humanity, but what could be done?
He was powerless, sure, reduced to a mere bystander to all of history in fact, but he was satisfied with this role.
That is, until the late 20th century.
After the people he so loved began to build their war tanks, machine guns, and other weapons of mass destruction, he put his world travels on hold, deciding with reluctance to lay low for a hundred years or so. He hoped things would improve on their own with time.
Somewhere deep in the grasslands of what we now call Dartmoor, Devon, he’d made home of an abandoned and unmapped cottage, waiting for the time to come in which he would reconnect with humanity.
Fortunately for him, just before the turn of his fourth decade in solitude, he met Dominic.