The Homosapiens

The Second Coming

By: Wolfgang Ausserbauer

Narrated by: Virtual Voice

Where did we come from? Or were we made from some prehistoric Ape? Our archaeologists are scientists who study past cultures and societies by examining material remains, from arrowheads to prehistoric villages. They tell us that we as a people are only six thousand years old. And cite the bible for proof. I find that hard to believe, Writer. For our genes to be altered in such a profound way would have taken one hundred thousand years. And our geneticist tells us that we have only forty-six chromosomes. Therefore, someone must have messed around with our DNA about a hundred thousand or more years ago.
Writer, Doc’s telepathic schnauzer, answers with a question, “And where do you have any proof of that?”
It is all around us. It is written on the Sumerian tablets, and a scribe wrote about the Anunnaki of pre-flood times.
Writer tilted his head, his wiry fur catching the glint of the desk lamp. “Anunnaki? Pre-flood tales? Sounds like science fiction wrapped in ancient mythology,” he remarked, his tone a mix of skepticism and intrigue. “Doc, you’ve been digging through those ancient scrolls again, haven’t you?”
Doc leaned back, the edges of his fingers brushing over a well-worn, leather-bound tome. “Not just scrolls, Writer. Evidence. Or at least hints left by those who were here long before us. Their legacy is all around us—carved into stone, coded into our genes. We just haven’t been willing to piece it all together.”
Writer’s ears twitched, his brow furrowing slightly. “So you’re saying…what? Are we part of some ancient experiment? A cosmic lab rat situation?”
Doc smirked faintly, his expression as unreadable as ever. “You’ve said it better than I ever could. But if the Anunnaki did tinker with us, here’s the bigger question: why? What was their ultimate goal? And are they still out there, keeping tabs on their ‘work’?”
A low growl rumbled deep in Writer’s chest. However, anyone’s guess was whether it was directed at the idea or the sudden thunder outside. “Well,” Writer finally said, his voice steady, “if they’re still watching, they’d better buckle up. I don’t play by anyone’s rules, Doc. Not even ancient aliens.”