Step back sixty thousand years. The world awakens not to an alarm, but to the first light painting the horizon. For our ancestors, each dawn brought a single, pressing imperative: to survive. Shelter was found, not built—the hollow of a cave, the dense embrace of a thicket, or a simple frame of branches draped in hide. The air was crisp, untamed.
In this world, certainty was a luxury. Small, n...
