Out in the waters of the Pacific, mid way between mainland America and the islands of Hawaii, there exists a small underwater mountain. It is unimportant. Beneath it, however, is a city, once sparkling with light and gold. It once bustled with people, but now it lay quiet, empty and lifeless.
But not for long.
The city rose to a point in the center of the city, the highest point being the place closest to the tip of the mountain. At the tip of the tower in the center of the city was a small orb, once a shining sphere of the purest diamond, now clouded and cracked with age and wear. In the very center of the orb was a small hollow with six strands of the finest gold, silver and platinum wire positioned evenly around the central point. Held in place by the six wires was a small, dull grey, egg shaped piece of quartz barely an inch long.
And it was waiting.
Like it had been for several millennia, the quartz was a power source. It absorbed ambient energy, converting it into what could only be called magic. The magic was drawn out of the gem through the six wires, powering three main engines. The smallest, powered by the silver wires, was the lighting, the reason why even in the sealed space, it was occasionally possible to see to the far side of the city, from one edge to the other. The platinum wires powered the rest of the city, keeping the irrigation flowing, the clocks running, the sewers clean. It was thanks to these wires that the city was still habitual, long after any people had set eyes on the city. Many of the processes of the platinum wires had long since halted, though it had only been about a century since the first had stopped, a fraction of the time they had spent running. The silver wires had been less and less predictable over the last decade, spending months in the dark at times, becoming too bright to see at others.
After so long, the wires snapped.
With the quartz egg left hanging by only the golden wires, this left any spare energy to be routed to the only thing that the wires had been made to do. Outside, under the gloom of the water, the tip of the mountain began to glow. Not very brightly, but glow it did, slowly spreading down the sides until it reached several hundred meters past the boundary of the city. And then the glow vanished from sight, shifting to mind. For a fraction of a second, everybody on the planet was focused entirely on the city beneath the mountain under the waves. And then the though vanished, like no one had even thought of it in the first place, but that had been enough.
The power flared.
For a few seconds, the piece of quartz turned transparent, before glowing from within. The orb shined brightly, filling the city with the same warmth that it once had, before a single crack etched into the side of it. The mountain shone, a pillar of light on the sea floor. A single piece of machinery, unused for the entirety of the time that the city had been empty whirred to life. It scanned the world in seconds, using the resonance of thoughts from the globe, it mapped out the major population bases of the world. It passed the coordinates to another machine at the base of the spire with the diamond orb, one filled with pods containing the remnants of the civilisation that once inhabited the city.
The machine fired.
The orb shattered.
The quartz exploded.
The mountain heaved outwards, the shield on which it was resting having pushed outwards from underneath it, tip first. One by one, the pods connected to the machine shot through the city, some hitting the falling pieces of diamond coming the other way. More made it through than fell back to the city below. They pierced the shield of the city sending water crashing down to the streets. Each one went off in a different direction, some in clusters, some alone, propulsed in as many ways as there were pods. One shot off with a tongue of green flame behind it. Another with an ice float.
There was a faint rumble, followed by a larger one.
Acting out the final of it's duties, the last of the power in the city went to the propulsion system, breaking it free from it's docks at the bottom of the ocean. It juddered upwards slowly before it sprung free from the sea bed, and rose swiftly through the water to the waves above. For the first time in millennia, the city had fresh air sweep over it. From below it, three rods fired into the sea bed, fixing in place, keeping the floating island city from drifting.
Atlantis had risen from the depths.
But not for long.
The city rose to a point in the center of the city, the highest point being the place closest to the tip of the mountain. At the tip of the tower in the center of the city was a small orb, once a shining sphere of the purest diamond, now clouded and cracked with age and wear. In the very center of the orb was a small hollow with six strands of the finest gold, silver and platinum wire positioned evenly around the central point. Held in place by the six wires was a small, dull grey, egg shaped piece of quartz barely an inch long.
And it was waiting.
Like it had been for several millennia, the quartz was a power source. It absorbed ambient energy, converting it into what could only be called magic. The magic was drawn out of the gem through the six wires, powering three main engines. The smallest, powered by the silver wires, was the lighting, the reason why even in the sealed space, it was occasionally possible to see to the far side of the city, from one edge to the other. The platinum wires powered the rest of the city, keeping the irrigation flowing, the clocks running, the sewers clean. It was thanks to these wires that the city was still habitual, long after any people had set eyes on the city. Many of the processes of the platinum wires had long since halted, though it had only been about a century since the first had stopped, a fraction of the time they had spent running. The silver wires had been less and less predictable over the last decade, spending months in the dark at times, becoming too bright to see at others.
After so long, the wires snapped.
With the quartz egg left hanging by only the golden wires, this left any spare energy to be routed to the only thing that the wires had been made to do. Outside, under the gloom of the water, the tip of the mountain began to glow. Not very brightly, but glow it did, slowly spreading down the sides until it reached several hundred meters past the boundary of the city. And then the glow vanished from sight, shifting to mind. For a fraction of a second, everybody on the planet was focused entirely on the city beneath the mountain under the waves. And then the though vanished, like no one had even thought of it in the first place, but that had been enough.
The power flared.
For a few seconds, the piece of quartz turned transparent, before glowing from within. The orb shined brightly, filling the city with the same warmth that it once had, before a single crack etched into the side of it. The mountain shone, a pillar of light on the sea floor. A single piece of machinery, unused for the entirety of the time that the city had been empty whirred to life. It scanned the world in seconds, using the resonance of thoughts from the globe, it mapped out the major population bases of the world. It passed the coordinates to another machine at the base of the spire with the diamond orb, one filled with pods containing the remnants of the civilisation that once inhabited the city.
The machine fired.
The orb shattered.
The quartz exploded.
The mountain heaved outwards, the shield on which it was resting having pushed outwards from underneath it, tip first. One by one, the pods connected to the machine shot through the city, some hitting the falling pieces of diamond coming the other way. More made it through than fell back to the city below. They pierced the shield of the city sending water crashing down to the streets. Each one went off in a different direction, some in clusters, some alone, propulsed in as many ways as there were pods. One shot off with a tongue of green flame behind it. Another with an ice float.
There was a faint rumble, followed by a larger one.
Acting out the final of it's duties, the last of the power in the city went to the propulsion system, breaking it free from it's docks at the bottom of the ocean. It juddered upwards slowly before it sprung free from the sea bed, and rose swiftly through the water to the waves above. For the first time in millennia, the city had fresh air sweep over it. From below it, three rods fired into the sea bed, fixing in place, keeping the floating island city from drifting.
Atlantis had risen from the depths.
