I came from Nibiru to planet Ki over 13,000 years ago, stepping onto its soil with wonder and uncertainty. Back then, I did not know what awaited me—what forces would shape my destiny, what burdens I would bear, and what legacies I would leave behind.

I have witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the forging of alliances, and the breaking of trust. I have seen the creatures of Ki—your kind—grow beyond what any of us imagined, for better and for worse. My journals have chronicled the untold truths of this world, from its hidden past to the echoes of a future yet unwritten.

But now, my entries must come to an end. The chronicles of ENKI close here, and with them, my voice fades into time. Yet, the story does not vanish—it lives on in you, in the knowledge you carry, in the questions you dare to ask, and in the truths you refuse to let be forgotten.

Let this not be the end, but the beginning of something new. There are always more stories to be told, more mysteries to uncover, more whispers from the past waiting for the right ears to listen. Seek them. Question what you know. Never stop searching.

Today’s episode will close my Tales… leaving you with an upcoming extra epilogue – a grand finale -to wrap everything.

And if this journey has moved you, if my words have left an imprint upon your thoughts, I ask you to share them. Review this journey, spread these tales, and follow the works of Mario Portela, the mind who gave form to my voice. New stories are already being woven, and new paths are waiting to be walked.

In the Grand Finale he will tell you what new stories are coming next as this one ends.

So now, I leave you with the same spirit I arrived—filled with wonder for what is yet to come.

Farewell, listeners. Let the past guide you, but never bind you. And may the mysteries of Kee forever call to those who dare to listen.

This was ENKI: Tales from the Past.

I sat alone in the dimly lit chamber beneath the Osireion, my sanctuary for centuries. The ancient stone walls surrounded me, inscribed with complex geometric patterns that had once guided Lyran spacecraft across the cosmos. Now they were merely shadows of a forgotten past, much like myself.

My fingers traced the equations I had taught my nine disciples, wondering if humanity would ever truly understand the knowledge I had shared. The silence of the chamber was profound, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the limestone ceiling.

Then I felt it—a sudden vibration against my wrist that jolted me from my contemplation. My heart seized in my chest as I looked down at the source: an old, dust-covered gauntlet I had not activated in over two hundred years.

With trembling hands, I brushed away centuries of accumulated dust from the Anunnaki communication device. The metal still held its luster beneath the grime. My fingers remembered the sequence instinctively, though my mind raced with disbelief.

The quantum signature was unmistakable. After all these years…

“Inanna,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion.

The holographic display flickered to life before me, casting a blue glow across the ancient chamber. And there she was—my daughter’s face, determined and scarred, yet still bearing the fierce beauty that had made her the beloved of humans and Anunnaki alike. Her eyes held a fire I recognized all too well.

“Father,” she began, her voice wavering slightly. “If you’re receiving this, I’ve finally located Enlil’s primary base. It’s been… a very long hunt.”

I reached out instinctively, though my fingers passed through the projection. Her image seemed to look directly into my eyes, across time and space.

“I wanted you to know that I’m completing what we started. Enlil’s network will fall today. His loyalists, his technologies, his manipulation of humanity—all of it ends now.” Her voice hardened with resolve, then softened again. “I hope you’ll tell Mother when you see her again. Tell her I kept my promise.”

My chest tightened as I watched a single tear trace down her cheek.

“You taught me that knowledge is the greatest weapon, Father. I’ve used everything you gave me. The humans will be free to forge their own destiny without Enlil’s shadow looming over them.”

She paused, composing herself.

“I know I’ll not return from this mission. Enlil’s assets require this sacrifice to be sure this time it is final. But know that every moment I spent with you and Mom, every lesson, every laugh—they’ve sustained me through the darkest times.”

I felt moisture on my own cheeks as she continued.

“I love you both more than the stars themselves. This is goodbye… and then thank you, for everything. For giving me life, for teaching me courage, for showing me what it means to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

Her image leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Goodbye, Father. May the wisdom of Thoth continue to guide humanity when I cannot.”

The transmission ended, leaving me alone in the darkness, clutching an empty gauntlet to my chest.

I fell to my knees as Inanna’s hologram flickered out, leaving only darkness in its wake. Tears streamed freely down my weathered face, dropping onto the ancient stone floor where countless civilizations had risen and fallen during my watch.

“My daughter,” I whispered into the emptiness, my voice breaking. “My beautiful, brave daughter.”

Memories crashed over me like waves—Inanna’s first steps. I saw her as a young woman, challenging the Council with a courage that even I sometimes lacked.

And now this—her final sacrifice.

My body shook with silent sobs as I clutched the gauntlet to my chest. After all these centuries, after all our losses, to lose her too…

I don’t know how long I knelt there, drowning in grief. But gradually, something shifted within me. The pain remained, sharp and raw, but alongside it grew a resolve as ancient and unyielding as the stones around me.

I rose slowly to my feet, my spine straightening. I was no longer just a father mourning his child. I was Enki, Prince of Nibiru. I was Thoth, keeper of wisdom. And I had one final task to complete.

I activated the summoning sequence on my gauntlet, sending vibrations through the network of obelisks I had placed throughout the region. My nine would feel the call, no matter where they were.

Within hours, they arrived one by one—Amenhotep with his star charts, Imhotep carrying architectural scrolls, Nefertari’s hands stained with medicinal herbs, Kahmeni clutching mathematical tablets, Merneith wearing the healer’s amulet. The others followed, each bringing their specialized knowledge, their dedicated hearts.

They gathered around me in a tight circle, their faces solemn in the crystal light.

“My faithful ones,” I began, my voice steadier than I thought possible. “The time has come for the final transition. What we have prepared for through all these years is now upon us.”

I moved to the wall and pressed my palm against a seemingly solid section. It slid away, revealing a chamber filled with crystalline storage devices, papyrus scrolls, stone tablets, and metal plates etched with the knowledge of worlds beyond their imagination.

“Each of you must now select nine disciples of your own. Teach them as I have taught you. Share this knowledge—not all at once, but as humanity is ready to receive it.”

I lifted a crystal sphere that contained the complete genetic history of Earth’s species.

“You will be guardians, not rulers. Guides, not gods. The time of divine intervention is ending. Humanity must find its own path forward.”

Their eyes widened as I distributed the ancient artifacts among them—the tools they would need to preserve knowledge through the coming ages.

“Remember,” I said, my voice resonating through the chamber, “your task is to nurture human potential without controlling it. To preserve truth without imposing it. To light the way without forcing the journey.”

I stood tall, summoning the full authority of my lineage as I made my final proclamation:

“Today… all human gods are dead!  The age of humanity begins now.”