Three months had passed since Thalor's Awakening.
Three months of study.
Three months of bloodline refinement.
Three months of Arcadia discovering increasingly creative methods of torture disguised as education.
At least that was how Thalor described it.
Arcadia preferred the term "curriculum."
The relay station had changed.
Ancient systems continued awakening every week.
New archives.
New workshops.
New sections of the Omni Pocket.
Atlantis was no longer dying.
For the first time in nearly one hundred thousand years...
It was recovering.
Slowly.
Painfully.
But recovering.
Much like him.
Thalor stood before a floating projection displaying his latest biological scan.
The image rotated slowly.
Mana pathways glowed throughout his body.
His mana core shone brightly within his chest.
A small rune pulsed above his heart.
The first Worldborne Sigil.
Arcadia stood beside the projection.
Reviewing the data.
"Your condition continues to improve."
Thalor raised an eyebrow.
"That's the good news?"
"It is."
The image expanded.
A second figure appeared beside his own.
At first glance, they seemed identical.
Then the differences became obvious.
The second image possessed denser mana pathways.
Healthier organs.
More developed structures.
A healthier body.
"A healthy Atlantean adolescent."
Arcadia pointed toward the second image.
"Estimated age: sixteen."
Thalor already knew where this was going.
"I hate this lesson."
Arcadia ignored him.
"Expected mana core development: Solid Cyan."
Silence.
His eyes narrowed.
"What?"
The projection zoomed inward.
"Your mana organs suffered significant developmental suppression."
Several portions of his scan were highlighted.
"Malnutrition."
Another highlight.
"Physical abuse."
Another.
"Mana deprivation."
The final section glowed red.
"Eight years of slavery."
The chamber fell silent.
Thalor stared at the projection.
Not because he doubted it.
Because seeing the damage quantified somehow made it real.
The years he lost.
The opportunities he never had.
The life that had been stolen from him.
Arcadia finally dismissed the image.
"The damage is recoverable."
That drew his attention immediately.
A new projection appeared.
Current Core: Deep Green
Expected Recovery State: Solid Cyan
Projected Timeframe: Twelve Months
Thalor blinked.
"Recovery?"
Arcadia nodded.
"Correct."
The construct folded her hands behind her back.
"Reaching Solid Cyan will not represent growth."
She pointed toward the projection.
"It will represent healing."
For some reason...
That made him feel better.
Because for the first time in years...
His past didn't limit his future.
The projection disappeared.
A new one immediately replaced it.
The world.
Mogar slowly rotated before them.
Thousands of lights illuminated its surface.
The Atlas of Atlantis.
Even now, the sight remained breathtaking.
"This..."
Arcadia gestured toward the projection.
"...is Atlantis."
Thalor frowned.
"No."
He pointed downward.
"Atlantis is a ruined valley at the bottom of the ocean."
Arcadia smiled.
"A common misconception."
The map expanded.
Hundreds of markers illuminated simultaneously.
Research stations.
Observatories.
Archives.
Relay facilities.
Rune foundries.
Mana collectors.
Dimensional anchors.
"Atlantis was never merely a city."
The lights connected.
Thousands of glowing lines appeared across the world.
"It was a network."
The scale left him speechless.
The lines stretched between continents.
Across oceans.
Across mountain ranges.
Across entire civilizations.
Ancient pathways connecting the world.
"How?"
Arcadia enlarged one of the intersections.
A circular structure appeared.
Covered in runes.
Surrounded by enormous crystalline arches.
"Dimensional Transit Nexus."
Thalor stared.
"A warp gate."
"An oversimplification."
"So yes."
Arcadia chose not to argue.
The image rotated.
Additional gateways appeared.
Hundreds.
Every major Atlantean facility possessed one.
"These gates allowed personnel and resources to travel throughout the network."
The projection zoomed outward.
An individual entered one gate.
Moments later, they emerged from another.
Thousands of miles away.
Thalor's eyes widened.
"Across the entire world?"
"Correct."
For the first time, he truly understood how Atlantis had become so advanced.
Distance had never been an obstacle.
Knowledge could travel freely.
People could travel freely.
Ideas could travel freely.
The image dimmed.
Every pathway vanished.
Every gateway darkened.
The network died.
"Following Omega Protocol, all transit nexuses were disconnected."
Arcadia highlighted the relay station.
"Only facilities actively connected to Atlantis may access the network."
Understanding dawned.
"If we reconnect them..."
"The network grows."
A single line illuminated.
"If enough facilities are restored..."
Another line appeared.
"Atlantis regains its transportation infrastructure."
The implications were staggering.
The map shifted again.
This time, several facilities flashed red.
Threat Assessment:
UNKNOWN
Thalor frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Arcadia's expression became serious.
"It means we do not know what awaits us."
The map zoomed toward one facility.
A monstrous colony occupied the ruins.
Another facility had collapsed beneath a volcano.
Another rested beneath a kingdom.
Another had vanished entirely.
"Ninety-eight thousand years have passed."
The projection shifted repeatedly.
"Facilities may be occupied."
Another image.
"Damaged."
Another.
"Corrupted."
Another.
"Contested."
The room fell silent.
Thalor slowly looked toward the ocean beyond the observation window.
For months, he had lived in relative peace.
No chains.
No masters.
No hunters.
Just Atlantis.
And Arcadia.
Unfortunately.
"We were lucky."
The words came from Arcadia.
A rare admission.
"The relay station remained hidden."
She looked at the map.
"Future facilities may not."
The ocean suddenly seemed much larger.
Much more dangerous.
Yet despite that...
Something inside him stirred.
Excitement.
Curiosity.
Purpose.
For the first time since escaping slavery, he wasn't simply surviving.
He was building something.
Restoring something.
Creating a future.
Arcadia dismissed the projection.
The Atlas vanished.
Only darkness remained.
Then the Trident pulsed.
Softly.
Almost eagerly.
Arcadia noticed.
"The network is waiting."
Thalor laughed.
"A civilization waited ninety-eight thousand years."
He picked up the Trident.
"It can wait a little longer."
Arcadia smiled.
"No."
That single word immediately concerned him.
"The first expedition begins tomorrow."
Of course it did.
Atlantis had finally found its heir.
And it apparently intended to keep him very busy