If someone asked you if time travel was possible two weeks ago, you'd definitely have said no. And if someone had said that you'd fall into a wormhole and end up thrust back in time, you’d probably have laughed and called the nearest mental hospital for the poor idiot. And yet there you were, stranded on a beach with nothing but the clothes on your back and whatever junk you had in your pockets. Thankfully, you weren't alone for very long; a kind soul guided you to a nearby town. You were a spectacle for sure, with different clothes, different hair, and you sure spoke funny. No one knew what to make of you, least of all the chief of the Diamond Clan. Professor Laventon, the man that had found you on the beach, vouched for you, letting the chief know that the circumstances of your arrival were too unique to ignore. You had no one you could turn to, and this was your only option for survival. The chief agreed, allowing you to stay, but he made it abundantly clear he planned on keeping an eye on you. For the safety of his people, of course.