Chapter 508

The first sign was not the colossal wave that swallowed coastal cities, but a persistent, unnatural calm in the air. The usual cacophony of Berlin was muted, replaced by a strange, expectant quiet.

Little Greta, only six years old, noticed it first while playing in her small garden. The pigeons that usually squabbled over breadcrumbs were gone.

The wind chimes hung still. The birdsong, once her morning chorus, was silenced, as if the whole world had drawn breath for a great performance.

She tilted her head, small and fair, blue eyes narrowed with puzzlement. Something was very amiss.

A prickle of unease traveled down her spine. It wasn't a child's fear, but something else, something that felt very ancient and very wrong.

Then came the dreams. Night after night, images assaulted her; towers of glass rising from a seabed of the inky blackness, creatures with opalescent skin gliding through the water, and faces.

Faces of a kind not known to this world; serene, sharp, cruel. They watched her with an unyielding focus, an awareness that made her hide her head beneath her blanket, hoping it was a jest.

Greta didn't talk about the dreams; how could she? Who would understand?

Her parents were distracted. They spoke about the strangeness with a mixture of worry and disbelief, chalking it up to news and anxiety from other parts of the globe, unaware the storm was building right where they stood.

The skies changed, growing darker, the sun barely able to penetrate the perpetual twilight that now blanketed Berlin. Rain fell, a constant, cold drizzle that felt more like tears than water, washing over everything with an unsettling dampness.

The television, once a source of comfort and distraction, showed footage of other cities, of panic and bewilderment as the waters continued to rise. There was talk of a "reawakening", whispers of ancient cities rising again, of beings that came from beyond our normal boundaries of the globe.

One night, Greta was awakened by a sound, something that resembled a resonant melody that pulsed under the foundation of their home. The structure rattled with a gentle yet imposing authority.

It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It grew louder with each passing moment, drawing her from her bed.

She looked towards her bedroom door, an unseen magnet guiding her there. Her small feet padding on the wooden floor, Greta opened the door.

She saw her parents' room and knew her mom and dad were inside, but they lay unmoving, facing the ceiling with open eyes. But they were not aware, she was alone, utterly.

Downstairs, the glass windows of her home showed a view she could have only ever dreamed about - towering structures, built from a substance that was at the same time sharp and yet liquid, glistening under a bioluminescence light, reaching towards the sky like twisted roots of some immense, celestial tree.

This was the home of her nightmares, she knew now. They were real. A soft sound of chanting carried into her home, beckoning.

It resonated with the same undercurrent that resonated under her feet, calling her outside, as she stepped out she saw her street, transformed. The familiar buildings and cobblestones were replaced by this same material, glowing, pulsate in a low rhythm.

There were also... beings, not quite human, though somewhat humanoid. They walked with deliberate intent.

These creatures were those she had dreamed about. Greta knew she shouldn't go closer, something at her core screamed in warning, but there was no command more persuasive than her curiosity and the rhythmic calling which surrounded her.

She found her small hands moving before she knew it, pushing out towards the streets she would no longer know. Each step felt heavy, a sense of finality gnawing in her soul.

She saw a tall one who appeared to lead, face serene with silver hair framing it and with his piercing eyes focused intently ahead. He was regal and imposing and he turned towards her.

A moment passed between the two and Greta found herself bowing. The male being smiled with approval, before turning ahead once more and continued his trek with his crew of beings, leading towards what was once her neighborhood, but had transformed.

Greta, despite herself, began to follow. They were not hostile to her, instead, she found she could easily weave between them as she tried to keep her place in the small sea of Atlanteans that seemed to have a destination.

With each passing moment she recognized some face from the dreams, from what she had learned in that hidden portion of her sleep cycle, they were there to greet her, almost to celebrate. There was a procession moving steadily through her street, passing what once was familiar in her normal day-to-day.

What once was her playground was now the start to something else. Something huge and looming.

A terrible knowing weighed on Greta's tiny frame. They passed more silent homes, streets devoid of the life they held days prior.

Here and there she spotted faces peeking behind window panes, people were aware but not active, afraid and stunned. But they moved like a great silent sea, none challenged her or her position following, allowing her space amongst the moving beings.

It felt as if time was sliding. Past moments seemed unimportant to what she was now experiencing, she did not recognize where they were going, not anymore, it was no longer Berlin, it was their world now, this new Atlantean existence.

It rose in height like towers built to the gods, it stretched above and beyond what Greta ever understood and everything pulsed, throbbed, alive, breathing with an imposing purpose she only had access to by dream before.

Soon, they arrived at a vast open space. There was no building in sight now, in its place was a structure so imposing it could be nothing but an entrance, or a gate to somewhere new and yet again familiar.

It was large and dark with intricate, ornate markings around its sides and its door. The being that seemed to be leading looked towards her again with a slight nod.

It was his encouragement to enter, an invitation to the new era of existence that Greta seemed to find herself wrapped within. The inside was lit in an unnatural light, emanating from the structure's walls.

She had seen this before in dreams. Here they all started to spread into every corner of the room.

No talking was required, or even spoken between the beings. It felt more like they understood each other as one thought, all intertwined as one great purpose.

She was one with them now, one with Atlantis. As Greta ventured deeper into this structure, the room began to twist and fold, like fabric and there appeared before them an expansive vista - a subterranean city lit from within, populated by hundreds, thousands of beings moving in calculated paths with their faces serene.

Here there was life but none that she knew. This is it, Greta knew with certainty, their real home, their domain, theirs and hers, forever more.

There was no visible sign of distress or sadness, only the great unified hum. But there was something missing, some part of her, that felt cut and frayed.

Here, there was no fear but, also there was no light. She was not happy and she felt herself begin to drift out from herself, it seemed wrong, she started to stumble through them all as she turned from their intended destination.

The tall, serene Atlantean now seemed worried, moving swiftly in front of her in order to cut off her wandering, before leading her towards the rest of the crowd with an intense gaze that only she was experiencing. It felt almost as if she had gone astray and she found she needed to get herself back into order with her family again, for good.

The being began to speak and she now was certain it wasn't telepathy as she now truly could understand the words coming from its throat. "Greta, your journey here has only just begun."

It turned its head with pride to show more of his kin in what was becoming like a mass wedding party "Our return to Earth has been a very long and hard effort, you see, and we will need people like you. You are perfect."

Greta took a small hesitant step backwards, this made him frown, ever so subtly and Greta felt it. "You have seen what they, above us, do to this beautiful world."

"They tear apart it's heart for gain and they know nothing of true love." It held it's head up even higher.

"Our return is for balance, we need help from people who know more about that than they ever could, we are not savage and destructive like the fools you know as humanity, do you see that, child? We need you, our dear girl."

"But what of mama and papa? Where are they?" She looked around hoping she could spot her mother's flowered blouse or father's reading glasses, anywhere she would be.

He had the courtesy to look sheepish "They are not here right now but soon enough we will see about retrieving those you call, kin. For now you must follow us"

"No! No no! No!." she screamed and began to wail as tears pooled in her eyes "I do not like your home, it is wrong, you are not home, you are liars!"

With every scream came more unease. More movement that seemed unnatural.

There were subtle jerks, subtle sounds. The room felt smaller.

Each step felt forced and her own feet moved against her will. She was being cornered into them again.

The tall being grew tired with her cries. His previously gentle look began to dim and what remained of it grew colder with each new vocal protest.

Greta now felt afraid again but was too riled to go back on her protests "I WANT MY HOME! I WANT MY MAMA!"

The great hum of the crowd started to break, creating a chaotic discord that did not resonate with any purpose or focus and for a brief moment it felt like true freedom, even a mere second seemed too much to bear as he became fed up with her refusal.

"Such foolish words, for one so new," It was a different tone, more edged. The group of them closed into a circle, each slowly drawing weapons.

There were blades made of crystal, but with an under layer of sharpness and there was an electric blue force which began to crackle and surge within its heart, making each seem all the more intimidating, now hostile.

Greta finally took in the terrifying sight and she turned her small head and focused, trying to remember a direction where she might seek assistance or refuge. But the circle closed in on her now, she looked left, then right and it seemed, finally she began to comprehend that what had felt akin was now set against her.

All faces were sharp, now there were sharp lines and edges around all features. Her world, had truly turned to be that of another's, it seemed.

"You cannot go against your family," a harsh, discordant voice resonated. "It would seem, that, not only are you fools above us, but also below".

In this tone, there was something of an agenda, there was calculation in its voice that lacked the serentity they shared not mere moments before, her protests meant nothing to these creatures. It was their way, or now none.

They were more cunning, and more brutal than any thought Greta might of conceived of mere moments prior, they were indeed those of her nightmares. The Atlanteans did not attack in a frenzy, rather with practiced precision.

One lunged forth, the blade of clear quartz catching the interior light, reflecting an image of what was quickly closing in around Greta. The blade fell with purpose and with brutal swiftness.

Greta cried out, the noise cut off short as a wound split her chest, sharp, and the being moved on, the blade pulled up, ready for another target, without missing its beat in the cacophony. And then another.

A second struck, an electric bolt, this one was no crystal blade but of raw electrical force that shocked every corner of her body and sent her falling in painful chaos to the ground. The room then continued to press, her end, became a calculated process.

She tried to crawl backwards. One Atlantean moved in front, another next, they hemmed her in now as they finished their task.

A force like none other struck at her, ending the girl and removing what they seemed to call, a problem. And then they continued without issue, as if a bug had fallen in their wake and all moved around, back to their singular rhythm.

Greta's body fell lifeless to the cold, stone floor, with wounds that seemed sharp as a shard, open for what came next. They did not care.

They were of Atlantis, they were superior, and everything else would die for them, and the end did not bother them for one moment, just another step of the planned and measured steps that laid in front of them as the conquest began for another era of supremacy for Atlantis.

And what did they gain from a child? Nothing, her short time did not even equate to anything and they would forget it in the upcoming time.

Her lifeless gaze did not show hate nor even pain as it had gone quiet for her in this place, finally at rest with what surrounded. She did not show love, nor fondness, only cold, lifeless blue eyes that knew they could now not change, could no longer do a thing.

Her form seemed now as nothing and they seemed to prove their power and existence by showing the brutality of it. They were ready, for the surface, again.

The world may remember the invasion. They may speak of the old Atlantean threat.

Some would study and learn in what came next, but nobody would learn about Greta, and if her form was never given proper rights, her story of being a problem and her end being another part of their dominance would surely become lost and all trace of her wiped out in the wake of what was their plans, for all of humanity.

And there, her tiny life meant nothing more than what their old god and ancient ways prescribed, another bug that dared be astray from the new way forward, for them. And then silence fell over her, an abyss that she finally fell into.