As the sun began to set over the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, my heart raced with anticipation. I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with trepidation as my fellow TTA agents, Zahra and Francis, and I made our way to the Canary Islands. Our mission was to investigate a large island that had mysteriously appeared between the Canary Islands and the Madeira Islands. Little did we know that this would be the beginning of an extraordinary journey filled with enigma and wonder.
Zahra and I had always been an inseparable couple, and as we stepped foot on the shores of the Canary Islands, we couldn't help but indulge in the romantic aura that surrounded us. Zahra had a way of finding love and beauty in the most unexpected places, and she believed that this area held a special kind of magic. Francis, on the other hand, seemed to be a party pooper. Zahra and I wanted to take in the sights but he went into business mode the moment we landed. He reminded us not to lose sight of our mission as we ventured out into the unknown. In a joking sort of way, we kinda did lose focus, having too much fun with the touring aspect of these islands.
Refocusing, our first task was to gather information from the locals about the mysterious island that had captured our attention. As we mingled with the residents, we soon discovered that many believed it to be the fabled Atlantis, a lost city shrouded in myth and legend. While the notion intrigued me, I couldn't help but remain skeptical. After all, legends were often born out of imagination and exaggeration.
Zahra began to believe, after all we've experienced, was not to far fetched that someone from the Lunar plane could be behind Atlantis' arising from the depths. If it was, who? And why? What was their aim? The locals nicknamed Atlantis' WC Island—WC meaning Weather Changing as the area was known for its sporadic, fast moving weather patterns.
My skepticism turned into intrigue. Suddenly, the locals proposed a daring plan. They offered to ferry us to the island, giving us a chance to unravel Atlantis' mysteries firsthand. The temptation was too great to resist, and we eagerly accepted their proposition. We would leave in the morning. Until then, we partied with the locals until the late evening hours.
The next morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon, we boarded the rickety boat that would take us to Atlantis. The journey was far from smooth sailing. The waves crashed against the sides of the boat, threatening to overturn it at any moment. The wind howled, carrying with it a sense of foreboding. Yet, we pressed on, driven by an insatiable curiosity that refused to be quelled. Francis got see sick from the extreme tossing and turning of the boat.
As we approached Atlantis, a dense fog engulfed us, obscuring our view of the surroundings. It felt as though we were stepping into another world, one untouched by time and human presence. We set foot on the island with cautious steps, our hearts pounding in our chests.
What we discovered there was beyond anything we could have ever imagined. Towering structures, grand architecture, and remnants of a civilization long forgotten greeted our eyes. It was as if time had stood still, preserving the secrets of the island for centuries.
Francis noticed footprints in the sand. Some were shoe prints while others were the feet of both human and beast. Zahra studied the tracks as we followed closely behind her. She began to see that these beast food prints were not galloping on all fours but in twos. At that moment, all of us thought of one name in connection with this discovery, "Lunningham".
The locals never heard the name before but they were soon going to find out about Rayloria's most elusive but prolific mad scientist twins. We had no reason to believe that any race the Lunningham twins created would be hostile yet we were outsiders. We had to be ready for anything.
As we followed the peculiar footprints on the sandy shores of the island of Atlantis, my heart raced with anticipation. My team, along with the perplexed locals from the Canary Islands that joined us on this adventure, was equally intrigued by these mysterious tracks. They resembled the footprints of a human, yet something else had also trodden on two feet. It was an enigma that refused to be ignored.
Every step we took brought us closer to the truth, or so we thought. The dense fog that shrouded the island seemed to thicken, adding to the suspense of our investigation. Suddenly, out of nowhere, we were ambushed. Before we could react, a group of bizarre beings emerged from the shadows, capturing us without a moment's hesitation.
I could hardly believe my eyes as I examined our captors. They were a fusion of human and sea creature, with fish-like ears, octopus tentacles for chins, and anglerfish heads. Their appearance was utterly bewildering and sent shivers down my spine. They spoke in a language unknown to us, a series of gurgles and clicks that echoed through the eerie dungeon they took us to.
As we descended deeper into the bowels of Atlantis, the air grew colder and the darkness more suffocating. Panic welled up within me, but I remained stoic, determined to uncover the truth behind this cryptic island. The prison cell they threw us into was damp and dimly lit, the walls adorned with ancient writings that we could not comprehend.
Driven by curiosity and a desperate need to find a way out, we pieced together fragments of information left behind by previous captives. Ancient paintings on the walls of our cells showed a portal and a picture of a woman dressed like a scientist in front of it—that lady had to be Erin. The ancient Atlanteans surrounded her. These beings were a variety of humanoid sea creature headed people. They were bowing down to her. In another picture was Erin standing before a giant brain with tentacles. Her hands were raised towards the beast as if like she was embracing it. The next picture showed the Atlanteans bringing gifts and food to this monster.
To our astonishment, it seems that our anglerfish-headed captors were not the true rulers of Atlantis but merely servants of a higher power. A power that remained hidden, its presence felt but never seen. We believed this higher power had to be this fearsome beast. The last picture was a battle between humanoid hair braided plant-looking beings versus the different subspecies of Atlanteans.
The inscriptions below each picture were in an unknown language. Zahra couldn't make out the language of what the Atlanteans spoke to us in either but knew it wasn't alien. Francis grinned while Zahra and I grinned our gears at trying to decipher the writing on the wall. We turned to him after he let out a hysterical laugh. He then told us that these Atlanteans speak Greek. He was tickled by this revelation because this civilization may be just as old as the Greek language, probably around Plato's era. I didn't believe this at first because accounts about Atlantis during that time stated Atlantis was already in ruins for centuries if not millenniums. Francis take on this would seem out in left field but considering the Lunningham's being involved. The war between the Zephyrans and the Atlanteans were erased from the minds of human civilization and recorded as if the ruins were there before the dawn of humankind. Yet evidence was to the contrary. Two alien civilizations were warring in Plato's day!
Yet for now, we had to find a way to escape. Who knows what these Atlanteans have planned for us. What we presumed was that this city was probably hidden in the deep, avoiding Zephyran detection. But why resurface now? What were they planning? With newfound determination, Zahra continued to decipher the writings on the wall that served as captions to these glamorous works of art above them.
Something about these dozens of paintings throughout the area could help us learn more about the Atlanteans. If anything, I felt it would be in our best interest to befriend them. If we couldn't, then it was time to get the heck out of Dodge.
From what Zahra translated with Francis' help, the paintings spoke of a gateway to another world. It was a portal used by a hand full of Atlanteans to escape the Zephyran wrath during the war. This was technology supplied to them by Erin, whom they referred to as their mother. Some even revered her as a goddess and worshipped her as such.
The common ground here was Erin. How could we get the Atlanteans to see that Erin was once our ally? Well, we had to think of a way fast because the footsteps of our captors were returning to check on their prisoners.