We Face Alexander The Great
The morning sun spilled into their guest room in Pella, painting pale golden lines across the floor and over the tangled pile of blankets where the geniuses slept. Slowly, one by one, they stirred, each groaning and stretching like warriors after a long, brutal campaign.
Hawkings was the first to speak, his voice muffled by a pillow. "If I ever see another bull again, I'll write a theorem explaining why it should stay far away from me forever."
Maria laughed tiredly, tossing a folded cloth at him. "Enough whining. We survived. We rest, and today we meet a king."
Einstein sat up next, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked around at the others with a crooked smile. "Ready for another day in ancient history?"
Vinci rose slowly, his mind already churning through diagrams and plans, as if he hadn't even been asleep. Eliza, careful with her ankle, stood last, determined not to fall behind again.
They washed properly that morning –real water, cold and biting, a welcome shock to their tired bodies. For the first time in days, they felt like themselves again.
They each pulled on their modern clothes: sleek, breathable shirts, strong trousers, sturdy sneakers. No more dusty tunics or wraps to blend in. Today, they would face Alexander as themselves ; geniuses from a distant future.
Maria checked their backpacks one last time. "Phones?"
"Five, fully charged," Einstein confirmed, patting his bag.
"Tablet?"
"Check," Vinci said, sliding it into its sleeve carefully."AirPods?"
"Both pairs," Eliza chimed in, holding them up like tiny treasures.
"Solar torchlight, power bank, camera, extra wires… all good," Hawkings listed, his fingers trembling slightly from nerves.
They shared one last look, each seeing the same mix of fear and uncontainable excitement in the others' eyes. Then, a firm knock echoed through the room.
"The king awaits," a guard announced from outside.
They shouldered their packs, hearts hammering, and followed the guards through Pella's elegant palace corridors. Marble columns stretched above them like silent sentinels. Mosaic floors shimmered in the morning light, each step echoing like a drumbeat in their heads.
Before Alexander
Finally, they stepped into the grand audience hall. There, under a dome of painted constellations, stood Alexander the Great. His golden hair shone in the light, his gaze sharp and endless, as though he could see right through them.
They bowed deeply, all at once.
Vinci stepped forward first, presenting the AirPods in trembling hands. "My king," he began, voice steady but low, "these let you hear music, voices, messages ;invisible sounds from anywhere, heard only by you."
Einstein stepped next, offering a phone and tablet. "These carry libraries, maps, stories, entire worlds of knowledge, all at your fingertips."
Maria and Eliza displayed the solar torchlight and camera, showing him how to shine light without flame and capture a person's likeness in a flash. Hawkings carefully unwrapped the power bank, explaining its magic: energy that could feed these devices, even in the wildest places.
Alexander took each device slowly, turning them in his hands as if they were precious jewels. His eyes widened at the moving images on the phone, the sudden glow of the torchlight, the crystal-clear sounds from the AirPods.
He looked up at them finally, his voice low and awed. "You have built what even Aristotle could not dream. These are not merely tools; they are keys to empires."
The hall fell silent, every breath held tight.
Alexander stepped forward, close enough that Vinci felt his own breath catch in his throat. "These are powerful," the king said softly. "But I cannot judge their true worth alone. Aristotle will test you. Prove your genius to him, and to me."
They bowed deeply again, hearts roaring in their chests.
"You shall eat and rest first," Alexander continued. "Then you shall journey to him."
The guards led them back to their quarters. They dropped their packs onto the floor with sighs of relief. As they caught their breath, a soft knock came at the door.
Katerina slipped in, carrying a tray stacked high with bread, fruit, cheese, and roasted meats. Her eyes glimmered when she saw their devices sprawled across the cushions.
"You showed him, didn't you?" she whispered, stepping forward.
Einstein grinned, motioning her to sit. "Come,join us ."
She lowered herself beside Vinci, fingers hesitating before touching the phone screen. Vinci watched her shyly, his cheeks turning bright red whenever her hand brushed his.
Maria leaned into Eliza, whispering, "He's going to invent a love poem tonight."
Eliza snorted, nearly choking on a piece of bread.
As they ate, Katerina peppered them with endless questions ; about light without fire, music without strings, stories inside glass. Vinci and Einstein took turns answering, finishing each other's thoughts and explaining in simple, soft words.
When the plates were finally empty, Katerina helped clear them, her fingers lingering over Vinci's wrist one last time. Then she slipped away, leaving a warm hush behind her.
A heavy knock pulled them back to reality. The guards stood ready, shields gleaming under the afternoon sun.
"It is time," one guard announced.
The geniuses shouldered their packs, fingers trembling slightly. They followed the guards down the marble halls and out into the bright Pella courtyard, where a royal carriage waited — its gold-painted wood gleaming, drawn by tall, strong horses.
They climbed inside, sitting shoulder to shoulder. As the carriage rolled forward, they watched the city pass by: bustling markets, children running with clay toys, soldiers practicing in the yards.
The carriage rolled southward, leaving Pella behind. The road stretched endlessly ahead, winding through fields and small villages. Days passed in a blur ; under starry skies and burning midday suns. Sometimes they camped near streams; other nights they stayed in small inns offered to them by local governors, all amazed at Alexander's guests.
At last, on the fifth morning, they saw Athens rise before them — shining white marble under the blue sky, the city alive with voices and movement. The carriage rolled straight through the crowded streets, toward a quiet grove lined with olive trees.
They stepped out carefully, packs slung over their shoulders, faces dusty but eyes bright. Students in pale tunics paused to stare, whispering in confusion. Their eyes followed the newcomers' bright clothes and strange devices.
Some students backed away in fear; others followed, wide-eyed with awe.
Led by the guards, the geniuses passed under an archway and into a sun-dappled courtyard.
And there he stood.
Aristotle ;the legendary philosopher. His long robe moved lightly in the breeze, his eyes sharp as a falcon's, already studying them as though he could see every thought before it formed.
The geniuses froze, breaths sharp and shallow.
Vinci felt his heart hammering against his ribs. Einstein's fingers twitched toward his notes. Hawkings swallowed hard, his mind already sprinting ahead to arguments and proofs. Maria squeezed Eliza's hand, and they stood as one.
The carriage driver stepped forward first, bowing deeply before Aristotle and presenting the sealed message from Alexander. The great teacher took it without a word, breaking the wax and scanning its contents quickly.
After reading, he lifted his eyes slowly, studying the five strangers before him. He looked them up and down — their strange shoes, synthetic fabrics, the restless fire in their eyes.
They didn't look like any students he had ever seen. They didn't even seem to belong to this world.
Yet, with a quiet nod, he gestured for them to follow.
They walked past open halls where young scholars murmured over scrolls and wooden tablets. Some stopped mid-sentence, staring in shock at the newcomers. A few even backed away, as if they had just seen spirits.
Finally, they reached Aristotle's private study ; a dim, fragrant room lined floor to ceiling with books and scrolls. Shelves strained under heavy volumes. Ink pots and quills littered every surface. Brass instruments, half-finished diagrams, and clay tablets covered the tables.
Aristotle pointed to a row of low, curved wooden benches padded with thin, worn cushions. They sat down awkwardly, backpacks pressed to their chests, faint glows from their devices seeping through the fabric.
Einstein swallowed hard and leaned forward, voice low but clear.
"Great Aristotle," he began, trembling just a little, "we are learners –seekers of knowledge ; from the far West. Much farther than you can imagine, beyond all seas and lands you know. We have come to learn from you, to understand your wisdom. We have heard of your brilliance and courage, and we believe learning from you will change our lives forever."
He paused, glancing at Hawkings for support. Hawkings nodded shakily, fingers twitching as if to scribble notes already.
There was silence
But Aristotle didn't answer. He kept scribbling on a scroll, the scratch of his quill echoing in the room's heavy silence. It was as though he hadn't heard a single word.
Minutes dragged on. One. Five. Ten.
Maria shifted, trying to ease the stiffness in her shoulders. Vinci pressed his palms together, quietly counting his breaths. Eliza rubbed her ankle absentmindedly, her gaze flicking between the books and Aristotle's face.
Half an hour passed. Still, Aristotle wrote, eyes focused, unmoving.
Then, just as suddenly, he set his quill down. He raised his head, eyes deep and sharp as the sea.
Silence is Broken
"Let me see these inventions you carry," he said at last, his voice low but commanding.
Vinci carefully opened his pack. One by one, they laid out the phones, tablet, AirPods, solar torchlight, power bank, and camera.
Aristotle leaned forward, his fingers grazing the smooth surfaces. His mouth parted slightly, wonder flickering across his face like a child seeing the stars for the first time.
They explained everything humbly, each device described in simple, careful words. Einstein showed the map on the phone. Vinci played a video. Maria turned on the torchlight. Eliza explained the wireless music. Hawkings took a photo, showing Aristotle the image seconds later.
Aristotle listened closely, fingers tracing invisible lines in the air as if connecting thoughts in his mind.
Finally, he stood and retrieved a scroll from a high shelf. The parchment crackled as he unrolled it, revealing strange symbols and careful writing.
He handed it to Vinci first, then gestured for the others to gather close.
On the scroll was written in flowing, elegant hand:
"What is the true purpose of all existence? Does every living thing and every moment have a final cause ;a reason that guides it toward an ultimate end –or does the universe move without meaning, drifting like leaves on the wind? Answer, if you can."
They stared at the question;what could the answer be ???.....