To whoever finds this message:
The day I made history was the day I lost it. I built a time machine—humanity's greatest invention, a key meant to unlock eternity itself. For a heartbeat, the future belonged to me.
But history has no mercy.
The moment I activated it, strangers stumbled into my lab. They didn't know what it was, didn't understand the weight of what they touched. In an instant, the machine vanished… and so did they.
I set the failsafe to return it immediately. It never came back. Perhaps they altered the settings, or perhaps time itself refused to obey me. Whatever the reason, the machine is gone—drifting across centuries in the hands of those who should never have touched it.
So I leave this record. Not as a boast, not as a warning, but as a confession. If you are reading this, then time has already changed. History is no longer yours.
It's theirs.