I opened my eyes with a guttural cry of unbearable pain that pierced every cell of my body. The darkness was still all around, but now I felt I was on something absolutely icy.
And in the process of waking up, I jerked, fell from somewhere, but, thank God, managed to put my hands forward. Otherwise, I would have smashed my face against… against something hard. And just as icy, chilling everything — my palms, feet, torso, backside…
Jumping to my feet, I hugged myself, trying to warm up a little and understand what was happening. My hand habitually brushed over an old scar on my forearm… Wait a minute!
"However," I muttered, feeling the trace of a past wound. "Is it supposed to be like this?"
It seems the Voice isn't going to answer me. Nor help. Alright, I agreed myself, no need to rely on others.
True, now I really wanted to understand what exactly I had signed up for. I hope it's not for naked walks across cold, vast expanses. On the other hand, if the Voice kept its part of the deal… does it matter?
Pitch darkness reigned around, through which absolutely nothing could be seen — you could poke your eyes out.
And silence. Not a rustle, not a creak, not a breath of wind.
But there was also cold. Fierce, brutal. It was felt by every cell of my body — my teeth, which found it very difficult to touch each other, reacted particularly characteristically to it. It felt like being in a huge freezer — and the steam escaping from my mouth with every exhale only added to the picture.
Standing still without moving is pointless. You could get sick like that. And given the ambiguous situation — the idea of catching a cold somewhere unknown — is not the most pleasant.
"Hello!" My hands felt something long and metallic in front of me. It seems to be a table. I'd bet that's where I fell from. "Anyone here?"
My eyes gradually got used to the new sensations, and in the darkness, the contours of the surrounding objects began to emerge. On the one hand, I felt relieved when I realized I wasn't in an open field with my bare ass… But on the other hand… I don't like cold, dark rooms very much.
From what I could see, it was definitely a small room with rather high ceilings. Several pieces of furniture arranged on the floor. And not the slightest hint of lighting. Or anyone who could have dragged me here. However, he didn't promise anything. Neither help nor advice… Only that I would end up in a familiar place.
And a lot of problems on top of that.
Life has hit me in various ways, but I don't remember places like this from my past. Nor when I was in such good physical shape. Probably since my youth and sports clubs. Then… I didn't have time for that.
"Damn jokes," the curse seemed to give me strength.
What is that eternal Russian question? "What to do?" I'd like to know too. But, let's add the questions "Where am I?" and "What's happening?". They could have given me at least some introductory information, not just thrown me into the deep end, hoping I'd swim out.
Or is this the twisted sense of humor of cotton-like entities?
Alright, Misha, let sleeping dogs lie while all is quiet. But you can't see anything either… Nothing, in general, is visible.
So, how do blind people walk? Slowly, step by step, step by step, ouch, damn it, it's so cold! I hope I don't catch a cold in my little bird, because a snotty little bird in a dark room is not much of a pleasure.
Alright, let's hope everything went according to plan. And I don't really want to think about whose plan it was.
From memory, I began to perform exercise complexes to warm up my muscles and somehow get warm. But this led to completely different consequences than I expected.
No, it got warmer. And brighter.
The pitch darkness began to gradually dissipate. The reason for this was the numerous lamps scattered in the corners of the room. Resembling vertical columns, with a thickening in the middle, they had many glass lamps arranged in a row one above the other.
Hmm, something familiar.
Like the uniform rusty color of the walls, with geometric figures over the paint. The elements of swamp-green paint also evoked a sense of déjà vu. Something was spinning in my memory… As if I knew the word, but couldn't remember how it was pronounced…
The ceiling, the walls — they seemed to radiate light from dozens of lighting fixtures of various shapes. As if sparing my eyes, the sunny yellow light was in no hurry to fill the entire room at once. Instead, its intensity increased with each second.
For a moment, I had to squint to allow my pupils to adjust to the change in illumination. Covering my face with my hands, I stood in the cold, trembling like an autumn leaf in the wind. And only after I realized that the light penetrated even through my closed eyelids and the fingers of my palms, did I slowly open them, looking around.
"This is something new," I muttered, looking around. The temperature in the room had noticeably increased — despite the fact that it was still cold, I felt that the light was warming my body. Like the sun's rays on a clear summer day. It seems the local builders are not very familiar with energy-saving lamp technology…
It became light enough to look around and examine every detail. Although it was still cold, I had no one to justify myself to… I seemed to be alone here, in principle.
If not for a couple of oval panels, whose pedestals, with the stern strokes of a perfectionist, reminded me of the laws of geometry. The illumination of the indicators on the panels, done with a lifeless white light, flooded unfamiliar control devices. Glass, plastic buttons, tiny regulators, more glass… hmm… things…
"Oh, I don't like all this," I grumbled, no longer doubting what was happening.
No need to rub my eyes or pinch myself — I am well acquainted with this setting. It seems I misunderstood the Voice. Yes, it sent me to a familiar place. But in my past life, I had never been here personally.
I only watched something similar on the TV screen and laptop, watching an old (twenty years have passed since the last episode⁉) series about another adventure of Americans in the vast Universe for all that is good against all that is bad.
After thinking for a couple of seconds, I slapped myself hard on the cheek. It hurt. I'm not asleep, then.
"We partied and marveled well," I muttered. "Sobered up — shed tears. There were no mermaids, and I'm ashamed before the catfish… Oh, my…"
I stood in the middle of the Ancients' laboratory — the characteristic geometric pattern of the interior, familiar control panels. Even the pattern on the floor — all this pointed only to one place where I could be.
Atlantis. No, that's crazy! Crazy!
"I hope this is a very, very bad dream," I muttered, walking closer to one of the panels. Many buttons, touch screens, regulators, miniature switches… "Alright, I agree to vivid deathbed hallucinations."
There was still the option that it was cold here because it wasn't a lost city of the Ancients in the Pegasus galaxy, but an outpost of the same race, but on Mother Earth, in Antarctica… This version would explain the cold. And the series didn't go into detail about what was there besides a few locations. It's clear that decorations are expensive, but… That was a TV show!
No, seriously, this isn't a prank⁈
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that some parts of the walls around me began to move. It took a few seconds — and monitors started working in front of me, continuously covered with characteristic scribbles of an ancient language.
What the hell is going on⁈ Does the complex, whatever it is, react to my movements? That's why new equipment keeps turning on? So, in the series, did the Ancients' technology react like this? It seems so, to all people… I think.
Taking a step back, I leaned the lower part of my back against the edge of the Ancients' laboratory table, the center of which — a snow-white surface with geometric figures, I didn't like it very much. And it's not even that the device resembles laboratory glass on which experimental biologists apply the substance being studied.
But this thing… It's hard to even describe it… At the base, it's something like a truncated polygonal pyramid, the surface… To hell with it! What the hell is going on here⁈
I might have watched something about this universe a long time ago, but I clearly remember that a "classic transmigration" doesn't happen there. And here… I'm clearly in my own, but very well-developed body. And at my age? With a sedentary job?
I rushed to the nearest dark screen on the wall. No, not to understand the ancient language symbols flashing on the matrix. I don't know how these symbols are translated or deciphered at all. I remember there was even a translator on fan sites, written by someone avid, but… No, seriously, learn a fictional language?
I'm afraid that's for Tolkienists. Or Klingon fans. Or someone else.
What interested me about the monitor was only one of its properties — its reflective surface. Somehow, I could make out my own appearance in it. No, really my own! A simple Slavic face with slightly protruding cheekbones and deep-set eyes, a high forehead, short hedgehog hair… I haven't looked like this since the army!
"Brave new world," I muttered.
So.
I'm somewhere in territory settled by the Ancients — it's not necessarily Atlantis or an outpost of the Ancients. These are just the first associations that come to mind.
I'm in a young and strong, and most importantly, my own body.
And… Now I need to figure out what time in the universe I've ended up in. The very fact that I've ended up in the invented television and book-comic universe of "Stargate" has to be accepted as fact. Of course, there's still the option that this is all a cruel joke or the delirium of a dying person, but…
Marina… If the Voice kept its word, if she's alive and her life has become happy, is it worth reflecting? No, of course not. I agreed "without looking." So, away with soul-searching, let's start dealing with the substance.
First — I need clothes, otherwise I'll freeze to death here.
Then — to survey the area and figure out exactly where I've ended up.
Third — to realize not only where I am, but also when. And in which damn galaxy. Because if I've been thrown into some Orai galaxy…
Hmm… It would also be good to understand if I have any Ancient abilities, like their gene that allows me to control their complex technology, or telekinesis, or…
Okay, stop. Calm, only calm.
Answers to questions will have to wait for urgent tasks to be solved. Clothes, reconnaissance, getting answers…
Ah, to hell with it!
Seeing some thing standing on the console and not being part of it, I reached out my hand to it, concentrated as much as I could, sending my desire to the universe to pull a piece of glass towards me… No, it didn't work.
Alright, I haven't lived as a Jedi, so I shouldn't start. It's time to start searching this little room, maybe there's something I need here.
While searching the corners, carefully avoiding anything that resembled any of the Ancients' devices, I caught myself thinking that there were several other possibilities for what was happening to me. I dismissed them immediately, as I felt the cold, and I was hungry, it seemed…
But this laboratory table… It spoils the whole picture.
The thing is, on such a setup in the series, they created replicators in the Pegasus galaxy. And these guys are humanoid machines made of nanobots, nanites. With a full set of abilities from a mad Skynet — the desire to kill their masters, the ability to program machines with a touch, they pass through walls…
Maybe I'm a replicator?
That would explain a lot…
Although, who am I kidding, what does that explain at all? How will I check it? I slapped myself, I felt pain. And when I woke up, it hurt too. So, conditionally, of course, I'm still human. In fact, who would program a robot with human feelings?
No, of course, you could organize a radical way to check, just to be sure… Replicators don't bleed, and wounds in a humanoid form or organic, but with nanites inside, heal faster than on a dog. But! Enough with the foolishness! Should I cut myself with some old piece of iron found by chance to see if blood flows? To hell with such thoughts!
It seems that my head is starting to burn from an excess of emotions. Too many questions, too few answers. I can't afford to ask myself questions that don't relate to my current situation. Globally, now, undressed and unarmed, without understanding what's happening around me, I can't change my fate at all.
And, if no one was here when I woke up, no one came to my cries (and it's easy to detect a stranger in your territory in the Ancients' lair), then I should think less and do more. Either I'm completely alone in the area, or they might come for me soon. After all, it's clear from the darkness and the turning on equipment that this laboratory-room-compartment, or whatever it is, was not being used by its owners at the moment… wherever I am. Hmm… Or maybe I'm in that part of the city that the expedition from Earth hasn't found and searched yet? That would be a twist…
Or, I might not be with the Ancients at all, but with the Asurans, those replicators from the Pegasus galaxy. And they don't particularly like humans. And, at certain times, they simply hate them. So…
I slapped myself again. It acted like a shot to the temple — all thoughts were driven out of my head.
So, enough! It's time to stop this bargaining with myself. Saving a drowning person is the drowning person's own business. And I'm the only one drowning in the abyss of the unknown here.
Rubbing my hands together more to occupy my head with something than with crazy ideas like "What if!?", I suddenly realized that it wasn't that cold around. Yes, the floor was certainly icy and my feet were freezing, but the air… It's not the Sahara desert during the day, of course, but steam isn't coming out of my mouth either.
Which means, whatever this place is, it's adjusting to comfortable conditions for me. A life support system, I think it's called. Good. If only some six-legged metal spider would bring me food and drink… No, to hell with all these metal spiders. In this universe, seeing such a little bastard is a sure way to die.
Having finished examining the room, I realized that there was only one entrance, which was also the exit. And to the side of the door plate, three vertically arranged crystals glowed with a bluish light. If you wave your hand over them, the automation will work and… Something will happen.
Good, but that's later.
First, not finding anything lying freely on the floor or on the devices, I concluded that there were something like cabinets with small windows in the walls. There's something inside them. But it's not worth climbing in yet — what if some alarm goes off?
Glancing around the room, I stopped opposite one of the monitors, which, unlike the others, remained inactive. A black screen, without the slightest sign of text, diagrams, desktop backgrounds… Non-working equipment?
Except… Something is wrong with this monitor. Or rather, the opposite. It's perfectly shaped — a vertically elongated rectangle. And if you look at the other screens, they are in the form of hypertrophically broken parallelepipeds, rhombuses, squares, with beveled corners…
And this one is of the usual shape… Hmm… This is not for nothing.
In the serene black nothingness, I could see my own face reflected. Without a doubt — it's my face. And my body. If the Voice created me like this, then… I suppose it's from the Ancients. And more precisely, from that part of them that Ascended — rejected human bodies and became pure energy.
It's just that there are doubts—the Ascended don't bother humans. They have a code of rules on their plane of existence about what can and cannot be done. And such antics… I doubt they are among the permitted ones.
Alright, that's all for later. But the thought that I communicated with an Ancient and he gave me this tour into the unknown doesn't add to my joy. As far as I remember, the Ascended only directly interfere in human affairs when there is no other way than the advent of total Armageddon.
Goosebumps ran down my spine.
Something is definitely happening here! I'm not saying I'm very upset, I did agree myself, but still! I could have used an "introductory word"! It really would have been helpful!
Looking at my reflection, I noticed that something was happening on the screen in the meantime. Some flash of light in the mass of darkness to the right of where I found myself briefly illuminated a small area around it and immediately disappeared, creating a huge bubble of air rising upwards. Through the thickness of the water.
In the moment the light flashed, I managed to make out in the distance, hundreds of meters away, many tall structures of various shapes and configurations. Round, square, polygonal, inclined towers… located on a platform in the shape of a "snowflake." And I… I seem to be in the neighboring part of the flooded area… part… part… part… Atlantis.
And that's when I broke out in a sweat. This is not a monitor at all!
It's a window! An illuminator, if you will. If we consider that Atlantis is still a ship. And it doesn't matter whether it's a space or sea vessel. This city has been in both capacities. And it didn't get any better—I had to accept that I had somehow ended up in Atlantis.
And now, what I saw is clearly air escaping from a flooded room! The city is underwater! And it's sinking!
***
So, the answer to one question has already been obtained by elimination—most likely I am in Atlantis. Then, when it was slowly sinking at the bottom of the ocean on an oceanic planet in the Pegasus galaxy.
And… There are two pieces of news. I wouldn't say either of them is unequivocally positive.
From memory, I could only recall one episode in the series when the expedition members saw something similar—a flash of light outside the window-illuminator and bubbles of escaping air.
The very, damn first one! The very beginning of the story of Atlantis! The expedition's arrival in the city!
The flash of light, the bubble of air—these are the consequences of the shield holding back millions of tons of water failing. Because there is no energy—the city's "batteries" have run out during the time it has been here.
There are two possibilities for the development of events.
The first possibility, which happened before the intervention of time jumps and the assistance of one restless Ancient. The city exhausted its energy reserves and sank. All expedition members drowned. Finita la commedia.
The second possibility. Everything is the same, but at the last moment, the heroes used the conveniently provided "crutch" in the form of a time machine, returned to the past, found among the still-living Ancients in the city a helper, and he helped save the city. And at the moment the expedition arrived, the shield discharged, and everyone was already preparing to die, the engines activated, pushing the city to the surface. Without energy, without protection, Atlantis survived. And was almost unharmed.
And neither option appeals to me. It's foolish to die after getting a chance at a new life in a city built by people who evolved hundreds of millions of years before the appearance of Homo Sapiens. Although, these very first people, the Ancients, are the creators of Homo…
Pressing myself against the window, I tried to make out any hints of human presence in the city amidst the darkness of the buildings. After all, in their first moments, the expedition members occupied a rather large space inside the central spire, which led to the automatic activation of many systems—including in the central spire. I seem to have been at one of the docks, as I could make out the huge mass of the city's main building in the darkness to the side of me. And there wasn't a single lit window in the enormous structure—which is physically impossible if someone were there. If there was anyone in the city at all.
I suspect that the absence of even the slightest illumination throughout the city is proof that the energy sources powering Atlantis are on the verge of depletion. If the energy meter reaches zero… Honestly, I don't want to find out.
I need to get out. If everything is as bad as I think, I should get to the central spire—the tallest building in the city—as quickly as possible and use the jumper. The latter is a small ship, designed for… Designed for many things. But, most importantly, it can fly through the stargate. And that's such a big thing that…
To hell with it!
Everything in order!
The inevitable has already happened—I'm screwed. And the sooner I find a way out, the better.
For some reason, I remembered the Voice's words that "the others" were not as compliant as I was. Maybe there are others like me here. "Transmigrators" who have annoyed everyone to bloody snot. Only, judging by the silence and darkness in the city, I doubt it…
Alright, my head is working, my hands are doing.
Turning to the cabinets I had previously discovered, I began to loot. Even if there's an alarm here, I honestly won't mind if someone comes to my aid. In such a situation, it really doesn't matter who it is.
There were three of them in total. And, without suffering pangs of conscience about possibly rummaging through the belongings of the deceased, I began to examine the shelves.
The search lasted about ten minutes, and I piled everything I found onto the surface of the laboratory table where I had woken up.
My first catch was clothes and shoes. Comfortable high-top boots with… Not laces, not a zipper, not Velcro… Something like self-tightening regulators. Smells like "Back to the Future." Alright, I can't choose.
A milky-colored uniform with gray and brown inserts, resembling a military uniform—trousers, underwear, jacket, short-sleeved t-shirt. If the Ancients have the same approach to button placement on clothes, then I got the male version. The lack of tailoring inspires optimism.
It seems there is justice in the universe after all.
Okay, I have clothes and shoes. Hmm, even something resembling socks. They do look like worn-out football socks, but, as with underwear, as soon as you put them on, they fit perfectly.
Convenient.
As a bonus, there was a belt with a hip holster and straps for attachment. If I'm lucky, I'll find a weapon too.
This is about the male uniform, of course. Screenshot from the series "Stargate: Atlantis."
Another acquisition was a spacious backpack made of soft but extremely dense material. It really resembles a backpack—two straps, a handle for vertical carrying… Only, instead of the usual zipper, it's magnetic.
The outer side, shiny in the light, felt like plastic to the touch, but I'd bet my life it's harder than it looks. My memory helpfully suggested that such backpacks flashed in the series—during the evacuation from the city, some Ancients left with them through the gate. And, surely, there must be something interesting in it. Like an experienced looter, I didn't make myself wait long, immediately examining the contents of the find.
Looking at almost a hundred small briquettes, the size of a small chocolate bar, wrapped in transparent packaging resembling polyethylene, I didn't wonder for long about the purpose of these appetizing-looking items. Quickly tearing the packaging off one of them, I took a small bite. In small doses, I won't be poisoned, and if it's bad, I'll get rid of it.
Of course, the Ancients might store rat poison like this… But I doubt it.
Yeah, something between children's plasticine and hematogen. Not tasty, but it satisfied my hunger. After waiting a few minutes—to see if the swallowed substance would cause vomiting or some other reaction—I ate three pieces, barely chewing. The Ancients built ships and devices that lasted for at least tens of thousands of years. Let's hope their food has a similar shelf life. My stomach reacted favorably to the product, and, feeling full, I proceeded to search the last cabinet.
Unlike the other two, this one was divided into two parts by a horizontal shelf. On the top, I found something that instilled confidence in my future. Although, who among us knows what tomorrow will bring.
However, a futuristic-looking energy pistol can't help but please. I remember that the humanoid replicators had such things…
God, I watched this series twenty years ago! Yes, I rewatched the most interesting episodes a couple of times, but I can't remember such things after so long⁈ I had more important things in my life to focus on… Marina, family, work, friends… Achievements and failures…
But I remember them rather vaguely, as if it were so long ago… I don't like this at all. But now there's no time to delve into myself—I'll figure it out when I'm safe.
If, of course, I will be.
The energy pistol.
A somewhat… unusual weapon configuration, and all these crystals instead of the usual barrel… Alright, these are details and a matter of habit. The most important thing is that on the weapon, in the area where a firearm has a slide and chamber, there is a scale with square indicators. And this scale, like the crystal barrel, is not illuminated. Whether you pick it up or not.
Is it faulty? Discharged?
The pistol fit comfortably in my hand, and the soft trigger literally urged my finger to pull it. But I had no plans to shoot in a confined space. So the weapon went into the hip holster and settled in comfortably.
I'm not complaining, but this is starting to scare me. Everything is fitting together too perfectly. Or am I just looking for a black cat in a black room out of shock?
The fleeting question—where does this thing get its energy from—resolved itself. The holster had several pockets where a pair of small—the size of a pinky fingernail—blue crystals in the shape of tiny octagonal prisms rested.
And at the end of the pistol, I saw a similar nest… Coincidence? I don't think so.
Sticking the crystal into its place, I grunted with satisfaction—the weapon made a pleasant sound, and the necessary elements lit up. I once again fought the urge to fire a test shot. I only stopped myself with the thought that the consequences would definitely not please me.
My last find was a device that was nicknamed the "life detector" in the series. A small device in a semi-transparent white case, resembling silicone, and a full-touch screen, with a few buttons at the bottom of the case. It looked like a grotesque handheld device due to its shape and size. But, in reality, it is a very advanced compact computer. I remember it was used to search for life signs, radiation, energy sources… A useful thing.
And it also has one unstated function. Although, it's more like "it's not a feature, it's a bug." The fact is that the "life detector" is one of those complex devices of the Ancients that worked…
Another beep, barely visible to the eye, and the black screen came to life, drawing several schematic lines, partitions, and… a blinking white dot in the center before me.
One life sign.
Mine.
Without even realizing it, I sighed with relief.
The scanner worked in the hands of those who had the Ancient Gene. Yes, the ancestors of humans protected their best devices from use by enemies and other clumsy monkeys, setting them up so that only those with a specific genetic sequence, the Ancient Gene, could work with them. For others, such things are no more than a monument to another, more developed civilization.
However, this didn't always save them from the mischievous hands of the series' heroes.
This is what the "life detector," also known as the Ancient Scanner, also known as the Ancient handheld device, looks like.
Picture from the series.
So, the dilemma with the gene was resolved in minutes.
Either I have the Ancient Gene, or this particular device works without it. Which I highly doubt.
They say there's a principle of balance in the universe—trouble awaits you somewhere, and pleasant surprises elsewhere.
I hope my streak of good luck hasn't ended. And I really don't want a black streak to follow, and then the end of the zebra…
So, without losing a minute, I dressed in the found uniform, fastened the holster to my right hip, slung the backpack over my back, and, holding the "detector" in my left hand and the weapon in my right, headed for the exit.
A slight movement over the three vertically arranged crystals in the panel to the right of the door—and I was already in the corridor.
It stretched for many meters to the right and left of me, but, estimating that the contours of the central spire I had seen were still to the right of my current location, I resolutely headed in the chosen direction.
Despite the clothes, which turned out to be quite light but warm enough, the cold in the other rooms still made itself known. Leaving a considerable distance behind me, wandering through corridors and floors, I felt that, despite the mechanisms of the city coming to life as I approached, hidden in the depths of the walls, floor, and ceiling, my ears, fingers, and nose were still freezing. Surely, the city was still "waking up," reacting to my appearance.
There's no point in sitting idly by and waiting for salvation. I think the Voice didn't send me here for no reason—there are obviously some serious problems in the lost city of the Ancients. Are there doubts that I am in Atlantis? No, none. Are there doubts that I am alone in the city? No, not either.
The convenient interface of the "detector," intuitively understandable, after a few trial and error attempts, helped me orient myself in space. In addition to detailed plan-schemes of the small space around me, with deft and characteristic movements of two fingers on the screen, I could change the display scale. And, reaching maximum zoom out, I confirmed my theory that I had woken up on one of the outer piers. More precisely, on one of the "small" ones. They are narrower at the base than the "large" ones.
Map of Atlantis.
The handheld device obediently gave me a map of the city. But it's just a map, like a device blueprint on tracing paper. No interactivity. Or I don't know how to activate such a function.
It doesn't matter now—I need to get to the central spire to get answers to my other questions.
Waving through corridors and staircases a considerable distance, I stopped to catch my breath at a healthy window. Strangely enough, it became "lighter" outside the window. With the naked eye, I could see the outlines of dozens of buildings. Some—even in detail. Those closer, even clearly.
View of the buildings of Atlantis underwater. Approximately like this.
Slipping, I looked through the window from bottom to top. As I suspected—through the thickness of the water, and quite a lot of it, dim rays of the local sun fell on the city… Mmm, no, it's still not the Sun, not the sun, but a star. That would be more accurate.
Practically indistinguishable against the darkness of the ocean depths, somewhere there, above the highest point of the city, was a transparent film of an energy shield. The only thing separating the structure from thousands of tons of water and destructive force, before which even the Ancients and their construction miracles were powerless. At least, they were powerless in the series.
After all, the city is several million years old. And even if it's essentially a sealed spaceship, a few breaches in one part, failed compartment lockout sensors in another, and poorly sealed doors in a third are enough for it to be completely submerged…
I don't want to test my luck to the very bottom on my own skin.
Thousands of questions are in my head, but they will all wait.
I am in Atlantis.
In the Pegasus galaxy.
Something is happening here.
And the Voice deemed that I could help fix it. Well, or I shouldn't flatter myself—I was simply "drafted" as the most compliant. Although, I myself didn't play innocent for long. I had a chance to save my beloved—and I took it.
Do I regret it?
Not at all.
If I had to—I would do it again. And again, and again, and again.
This is approximately what Atlantis looks like underwater. The art is beautiful, but not entirely correct—there's no shield here.
Damn, my nerves are shot. I need to be calmer. Otherwise, I won't last longer than I want.
Finishing my break, I checked the handheld device and jogged towards the city's transport cabin.
It's time to get to the central spire faster.
There's something there… someone… who can give me answers to my questions. At least I should try to ask them and show off my erudition and post-knowledge. Or, in the end, I can just start threatening.