The chamber remained silent.
Thalor stared at the floating trident.
The trident stared back.
At least that was how it felt.
The connection between them remained strange.
Uncomfortable.
Like having a second heartbeat that didn't belong to him.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there.
Minutes.
Hours.
Time felt different beneath the ocean.
Eventually, he broke the silence.
"Now what?"
The trident flashed.
Nothing happened.
Thalor frowned.
"Very helpful."
The weapon flashed again.
Still nothing.
"You're not much of a conversationalist."
A faint pulse traveled through the chamber.
Somewhere deep within the ruins, ancient machinery groaned.
The sound echoed through distant hallways.
Then silence returned.
Thalor sighed.
He had escaped slavery.
Discovered a lost civilization.
Bonded with an ancient magical weapon.
And somehow, he still had no idea what he was supposed to do next.
A new sound interrupted his thoughts.
Footsteps.
His entire body tensed.
The reaction was immediate.
Instinctive.
Eight years of captivity had trained him well.
Someone was approaching.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The footsteps grew louder.
Thalor turned toward the chamber entrance.
Blue light illuminated the corridor.
Water flowed through the air.
Not around something.
Through it.
A feminine figure emerged from the darkness.
Thalor froze.
She appeared human at first glance.
Then he looked closer.
Her body was composed of flowing water and pale blue light.
Runes drifted beneath translucent skin.
Long hair floated around her as though suspended underwater.
Every movement left shimmering droplets in her wake.
Her eyes resembled twin sapphires.
Ancient.
Intelligent.
And utterly inhuman.
She stopped several paces away.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then she bowed.
The motion was elegant.
Precise.
Practiced.
"I am the Autonomous Repository for Civilization, Advancement, Development, Innovation, and Adaptation."
Thalor blinked.
Silence followed.
The woman remained perfectly still.
Eventually, he spoke.
"...What?"
"I am the Autonomous Repository for Civilization, Advancement, Development, Innovation, and Adaptation."
She paused.
"Designation: A.R.C.A.D.I.A."
More silence.
Thalor stared.
Arcadia stared back.
Finally, he pointed at her.
"That's your name?"
"It is my designation."
"Right."
Another pause.
"I'm not saying all that."
Arcadia tilted her head.
"Clarify."
"I'm calling you Arcadia."
"The abbreviation is informal."
"Good."
"It is not proper protocol."
Thalor shrugged.
"You've been at the bottom of the ocean for ninety-eight thousand years."
Arcadia opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Several seconds passed.
"...Point acknowledged."
Thalor smiled.
The first genuine smile since entering Atlantis.
Arcadia immediately noticed.
"Emotional state has improved."
"Please stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Whatever that was."
"I am collecting data."
"Don't."
"Request denied."
The smile disappeared.
Arcadia recorded the result.
Interesting.
The trident floated between them.
Arcadia turned toward it.
Her expression softened.
For the first time, emotion entered her voice.
"The Trident of Atlantis."
She stepped forward.
"Ninety-eight thousand years."
The words were barely above a whisper.
"Welcome back."
The trident pulsed gently.
Like an old friend returning home.
Thalor watched the exchange.
Something about it felt strangely personal.
Like witnessing a reunion.
Eventually, Arcadia turned back toward him.
"The bond is stable."
"Congratulations."
"Congratulations?"
"You found your successor."
Silence.
Then:
"No."
Thalor frowned.
"No?"
Arcadia studied him.
Her sapphire eyes scanned him from head to toe.
"Successor implies readiness."
Another pause.
"Current readiness level: insufficient."
Thalor barked a laugh.
"Fair."
"Educational deficiencies severe."
"Fair."
"Political understanding nonexistent."
"Fair."
"Royal qualifications—"
"Let me guess."
"Nonexistent."
"Getting repetitive."
Arcadia nodded.
"Agreed."
The chamber fell silent.
Then the floor trembled.
A section of the wall flickered.
The runes dimmed.
Several lights went dark.
Arcadia immediately looked upward.
Concern crossed her face.
The expression surprised Thalor.
Until now, she had seemed almost machine-like.
Now she looked worried.
"What happened?"
Arcadia didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she extended her hand.
A projection appeared above her palm.
Ancient runes.
Status reports.
Power readings.
Most were red.
Thalor didn't understand any of it.
He understood her expression.
It wasn't good.
"Arcadia?"
She finally spoke.
"Mana reserves are approaching depletion."
"Meaning?"
"The remaining Atlantean systems are powered by emergency reserves."
"Okay."
"The emergency reserves have lasted ninety-eight thousand years."
Thalor blinked.
"...Okay?"
Arcadia looked directly at him.
"At the current rate of consumption, total system failure will occur within seventy-three days."
Silence.
Thalor stared.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because apparently that was how he processed insanity.
"I escape slavery."
"Correct."
"I find a lost civilization."
"Correct."
"I get chosen by an ancient trident."
"Correct."
"And now Atlantis is dying."
Arcadia nodded.
"Correct."
The smile vanished from Thalor's face.
"What happens if the systems fail?"
Arcadia looked around the chamber.
At the darkened runes.
The damaged walls.
The dying city.
Then back at him.
"I cease functioning."
The words hit harder than expected.
Thalor didn't know her.
Had met her only minutes ago.
Yet something about the statement bothered him.
Perhaps because she sounded so matter-of-fact.
Like she had already accepted it.
Arcadia continued.
"The Trident will enter dormancy."
"The remaining archives will be lost."
"The last remnants of Atlantis will disappear."
Silence filled the chamber.
Finally, Thalor sighed.
"Wonderful."
Arcadia nodded.
"I agree."
He rubbed his temples.
"How do we stop that?"
For the first time since awakening, Arcadia smiled.
A small smile.
Hopeful.
A projection appeared above her hand.
An island.
Far from any shipping routes.
Far from civilization.
A single point of blue light pulsed beneath it.
"A dormant mana geyser."
Thalor looked at the image.
Then at Arcadia.
Then at the ruins surrounding them.
Then back to the image.
He already knew what she was about to say.
"No."
Arcadia blinked.
"I have not yet made a request."
"You were going to."
"Correct."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I just escaped."
Arcadia considered that.
Reasonable.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then she asked:
"What do you intend to do instead?"
The question caught him off guard.
Thalor looked toward the distant ocean beyond the ruined hall.
Freedom.
For eight years, that had been the goal.
Now he had it.
And for the first time in his life...
He didn't know what came next.
"I don't know."
Arcadia studied him quietly.
Then she nodded.
"A satisfactory answer."
Thalor frowned.
"It is?"
"Yes."
The projection changed.
The mana geyser pulsed brighter.
"Fortunately."
Arcadia smiled slightly.
"I do."