The rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed faintly through the crystalline halls of Atntis 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 Atntean 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 loomed 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 rge… crystal was used… not to heal but to destroy.”

  Kida nodded solemnly. “A tragedy we’ve buried too long. The truth has eroded from memory, leaving only shadows.”

  Helios leaned zily 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 particur, yet her presence seemed 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 me,” 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 become our enemies. It’s time 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 zily, 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 ugh, 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 ft.

  “I’ll get to the point.” Rourke squared his shoulders. “You didn’t come all this way to gawk at murals. You want something out of Atntis—same as us. So why not work together? There’s no reason we can’t make this arrangement 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 csh—say, we want the same prize—what then?”

  Helga’s fingers twitched toward her sidearm.

  “Rex,” 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 bdes. “You’d be wise to keep that hand still, lest you wish for another bde at you neck this time. Only this time I won’t stay my hand,” she murmured. A thin sliver of shadow coiled around her fingers, forming a dagger of pure darkness that glimmered 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 pn 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 frame. “Alright. I can live with that.”

  “Good man.” Helios cpped him lightly on the shoulder. “Keep it that way.”

  At that moment, Milo called over his shoulder. “Guys! You should come see this.”

  The two groups drifted toward the center of the chamber. As Milo and Kida worked together, deciphering yers 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 times, I’ve never met 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 something called the Heart of Atntis,” 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 gnce 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.