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- [May 23, 2166]
- [Unknown Atlantean Bunker Communications Room]
- [Unknown Atlantean Bunker]
- [Unknown Atlantean Ruins]
- [Chinese Ocean]
- [Open Territory - G.U.D.]
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- Inside of what amounts to Atlantis's equivalent to a communications room, Maksym Skala's group of Da'at Yichud members are fiddling with the controls; the main man in charge is shouting in Hebrew to Gamera in the waters above them.
- From the view inside, the giant turtle monster can be seen with a faint green glow in his eyes and around his hands. On the outside, the last remnant of Atlantis is adjusting what appear to be an extremely large valve hand-wheel, though it's normal sized to him. As he turns it, faint spatial and temporal distortions in the water around him can be made out.
- These distortions start to show up in the communications office as well, to the delight of Maksym. Unfortunately, one of the valves on the outside of the bunker blows up in Gamera's face, immediately ending the distortions and prompting the sect leader to slam his fist on the control panel he's stationed at before sinking into a chair and covering his stressed out face with his hand.
- (Maksym Skala): We're not making any progress at all. Two whole damn days, and we can't get another signal out.
- One of the younger members of the group, a thin teenager of about fifteen years of age with dirty blonde hair and a slightly tanned complexion, notices how stressed out their leader is and crouches down in front of the aging man, grabbing his hands and looking him straight in the eye.
- (Sachi Mas'ud): Kohein Skala?
- (Maksym Skala): Yes, young one?
- (Sachi Mas'ud): I have only heard a few tales about our people's history following the dissolution of the empire of Atlantis, and our sudden departure to reveal our background to the G.U.D. meant I didn't get to complete my teachings.
- (Maksym Skala): And why is this relevant to our current situation?
- (Sachi Mas'ud): I thought that it would be a good idea to get your mind off of this conundrum for the time being. Just one recital? Please?
- Seeing the glimmer in the child's eyes, the group's Kohein relaxes a bit and starts making himself comfortable in his seat. As he does, Sachi Mas'ud sits down on the barnacle-crusted floor and is now listening intently. A few of the other non-adult members of the group sit down with her as well; this seems to amuse Maksym.
- (Maksym Skala): Have you lot heard about the First Journey?
- Most of the teenagers shake their heads, though one in particular, a chubby Israeli boy with a bowl haircut and thick spectacles, raises his hand.
- (Maksym Skala): You've heard it?
- (Kaleb Roth): Was that the tale of how our people decided to settle down after seeding the rest of Humanity with the inspiration required to eventually reach a similar level and analogue of technological advancement?
- (Maksym Skala): Yes, it is! You know it?
- (Kaleb Roth): Well, I was supposed to learn about it last week, but then my mom brought me onto this mission, and--
- (Maksym Skala): Say no more, young one. I will tell you all the true story of our First Journey.
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- [Unknown Date]
- [Roth-Ma Island]
- [Pacific Ocean]
- [Unknown Territorial Affiliation]
- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
- On the near-mystical setting of Roth-Ma Island, several of the island's natives have gathered to see what their guests are up to. These men and women, brandishing advanced organic-looking technological analogues to that of the current era, have visited the island from a far off civilization and are currently building what appears to be a base of operations.
- Heading the group and this particular operation is none other than the famous Atlantean leader, scientist, explorer, and inspiration for the Greek god of the same name, Zeus.
- (Zeus): Is it complete? Is the dispersal system ready yet?
- (Heracles): I believe so, father.
- (Zeus): Then start the process. Test it on the continent to the west of us.
- One of the Atlantean associates runs to the side of the building; it's made in a style similar to classical Greco-Roman architecture, albeit using bamboo and uncut stones. The associate climbs up a makeshift rope ladder to the top and reaches an organic-looking analogue to a radio tower that glows with a blue aura. At its base is a control panel, along with a few tanks of glowing blue fluids hooked up to it.
- (Zeus): Begin the seeding procedures!
- With the flip of a switch, the tower begins to glow more erratically before releasing an invisible pulse of energy that causes spatial and temporal distortions. This energy wave ripples away from its source at alarming speeds; the distortions it causes are now too far for the Human eye to make out. After initiating this procedure, a rift in Transference Space opens up before Zeus and his son.
- (Heracles): Are we connected, father?
- (Zeus): I believe so, Heracles. We are now viewing a community of Humans on the continent.
- Through the rift, the Atlanteans can see a small nomadic tribe of Humans, whom are quite primitive even when compared to the natives on Roth-Ma Island. However, distortions from the device seem to have reached the area. As they pass through, the people begin to look around erratically, as if only just realizing something is amiss.
- Within seconds, a young boy pulls off a leaf from a plant, then wraps it around an open wound. At first, he winces in pain, but soon he relaxes. Others in the tribe begin to gather around this young boy, who is now showing his discovery to everyone.
- (Zeus): It worked! The seeding procedure is a success!
- (Heracles): So what now father?
- (Zeus): I..... I don't know, Heracles. We devoted the past few months perfecting the seeding technology, and now that it's done...... I don't know what there is left of us.
- (Heracles): Maybe we could go back?
- (Zeus): Back?
- (Heracles): Yes, back. Perhaps search for survivors, begin anew as another neighbour on Gaia and not an encompassing empire.
- Zeus ponders on his son's proposition, but the two are interrupted by the natives calling out to them; they carry large palm leaves filled with steaming hot meals of fish from the last harvest of the annual beaching from the God of the Seas.
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