The rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed faintly through the crystalline halls of Atlantis as Milo and Kida led the group deeper into the heart of the ancient city.
The air in the mural chamber was heavy with quiet reverence. Aquamarine light from embedded crystals rippled across the stone walls, illuminating vast engravings of Atlantean glyphs spiraling outward like waves in a still pond. At the center, a massive mural depicted a glowing crystal suspended over figures of worshippers—above them lood shapes of titanic machines, their jagged edges and weaponized limbs stark against the elegance of the city.
Milo ran his fingers lightly along the glyphs. "This… this speaks of pride," he muttered. "Of a great weapon. A large… crystal was used… not to heal but to destroy."
Kida nodded solemnly. "A tragedy we've buried too long. The truth has eroded from mory, leaving only shadows."
Helios leaned lazily against a stone column, arms folded. His oceanic eyes flicked idly from the mural to Milo, then to Rourke and Helga standing stiffly near the entrance. Kurai was silent beside him, silver gaze fixed on nothing in particular, yet her presence seed to chill the air.
Rourke shifted uneasily, his thick fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his belt.
"Commander," Helga murmured in a low voice, stepping slightly closer. "That boy isn't just any ordinary kid." Her eyes darted to Helios. "And that woman—her aura… it's wrong. I don't know what it is, but all I can say is that it feels wrong."
"You don't have to tell ," Rourke muttered back, his voice tight. "They don't flinch, don't even look like they care we're watching them. Too unnatural. Either they're used to this or they don't see us as anything to worry about."
"Should we test them?" Helga's hand brushed the grip of her pistol almost instinctively.
"Not yet." Rourke's jaw tightened. "But I don't like being in the dark. Especially about people who could potentially beco our enemies. It's ti we pry a little."
The Commander stepped forward, his boots clicking against the polished floor. "Mind if we have a word?"
Helios turned his head lazily, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Again? I didn't think an old man like you needed permission for anything, Commander Rourke, was it?"
Rourke forced a laugh, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes. Fair enough. But I figure we're all civilized folks here. No harm in asking."
"What do you want?" Kurai asked, her voice cold and flat.
"I'll get to the point." Rourke squared his shoulders. "You didn't co all this way to gawk at murals. You want sothing out of Atlantis—sa as us. So why not work together? There's no reason we can't make this arrangent mutually beneficial."
Helios tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes narrowing as if weighing the offer. "Work together, hm? And if our goals happen to clash—say, we want the sa prize—what then?"
Helga's fingers twitched toward her sidearm.
"Relax," Helios said lightly, his smirk deepening. "I'm joking."
The tension in the room tightened like a noose. Kurai finally shifted her gaze to Helga, her eyes sharp as blades. "You'd be wise to keep that hand still, lest you wish for another blade at you neck this ti. Only this ti I won't stay my hand," she murmured. A thin sliver of shadow coiled around her fingers, forming a dagger of pure darkness that glimred faintly in the crystal light.
Helga froze.
Helios exhaled softly. "We didn't lie when we said we're here to observe. To learn." He stepped closer to Rourke, his voice low and calm yet carrying an edge like drawn steel. "We're not your allies. But we're not your enemies either—unless you give us reason to be."
Kurai let the shadow dagger dissolve into mist. "Whatever pitiful plan your group has concocted… don't involve us."
Helios' smirk returned. "But don't worry. We have no intention of ratting you out. Your business doesn't concern us—as long as it doesn't touch our interests."
Rourke exhaled through his nose, tension bleeding slightly from his fra. "Alright. I can live with that."
"Good man." Helios clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Keep it that way."
At that mont, Milo called over his shoulder. "Guys! You should co see this."
The two groups drifted toward the center of the chamber. As Milo and Kida worked together, deciphering layers of ancient history, Rourke and Helga hung back.
"They're dangerous," Helga whispered tightly.
"More than just dangerous." Rourke's voice was grim. "That boy's a predator in sheep's clothing. And the girl with him—she's like death incarnate. Even in war tis, I've never t anyone like them. Best we tread carefully around those two."
Helga nodded once, her fingers reluctantly easing away from her holstered pistol.
Milo straightened suddenly, his face pale. "This mural… it's not just history. It's a warning."
Kida frowned. "What kind of warning?"
"About the sothing called the Heart of Atlantis," Milo said softly. "It wasn't always a gift. It… it was a weapon once."
Silence fell across the room like a heavy shroud.
Helios' expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of interest in his golden eyes.
"Fascinating," he murmured.
As the group began to move again, Helios hung back just long enough to glance at Rourke. "Old man," he said lightly, "if I were you, I'd focus on your own shadows and what they might draw to you before worrying about our business."
Rourke's lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing.
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