The landscape was breathtaking. The city itself seemed to rise from the ground, complementing the grounds around it in a rather tasteful fashion. The colors were garish and divine, the architecture, aided by the Stones, was simply magnificent, built by machines, again, powered by the Stones. The shapes were beautiful, naturally flowing, growing from pleasant to stunningly magnificent the closer one came to the center of the city. The Jewel of the City, in more ways than one, was the Citadel at its very center. The walls were high, made of the purest black marble, the towers spearing up to the sky, contrasting the black walls with their golden hues. The mansion inside was incalculably huge, covered acres and acres.

The city was a magical place, where the rich were always young and beautiful, dressed in the finest clothing and riding horses or borne atop litters carried by servants. The poor, who weren't slaves, were a shocking contrast to this. Wretched, old, decaying and wearing nothing but rags that were cast aside by their betters, begging for scraps to continue their wretched existence.

All visitors were captured by the awe-inspiring beauty of Atlantis.

All but one, that is.

His eyes were dark, such a deep brown that they looked black. He was hunched over, covered by a filthy and ragged cloak as he moved along the city, muttering apologies as he stepped aside. You and beautiful rich people were passing, he thought, irritated. If it weren't for the guards, he would be moving faster. They were always dressed in golden armor, and were very loud and otherwise hard to miss. He slipped through the crevices of the people, most not giving him a second glance. His face was covered, but long scraggly hair showed streaks of grew and the deforming hump on his back showed that he wasn't a man of any riches or influence, as he didn't have the money to buy a wishing stone to alter his appearance and maintain his youth.

He moved close to the walls, his dark eyes running over their black surface, trying to find any weakness, but no hope sprung in him. These walls were watched night and day, protected by the Wishing Stones that had created them. Any crack on it was quickly discovered and easily mended, so it was quite obvious that scaling the walls was not going to be an option. Tunneling under them did appeal to the hunched over man, but that would take weeks, maybe even months, and even then there was the chance that he would be found out, and he would be stepping into the citadel without any previous knowledge of the place.

"Hey!" Someone called and the hunchback turned his swollen body around at a ponderous pace. Three guards approached him, their golden armor glistening in the fading sunlight, setting in the west. The commander of the guards pushed the man's hood back, showing his face. Despite his graying black hair, his eyes were fiercely intelligent, face sporting a stylishly short beard, also with a couple white streaks, and a very handsome face.

"What are you doing so near the walls, beggar?" The guard asked, harshly.

"Just looking for a way in, milord," The man growled, coughing and spitting on the ground at the guard's feet. The man was angry.

"You just found the quickest way never to be admitted into the citadel," The man screamed, turning to his comrades," Hae this man thrown from the city.

The two men seemed dispirited by the task, growling a bit as they moved close to the beggar, grabbing him by his arms and pulling him up higher. Something happened. If any of the guards would have survived, they would have speculated on how that first strike had occurred. Maybe he already had the weapon in his hand, but either way, the first guard to touch him fell back, a surprised look on his face. He was clutching his throat, but otherwise looked fine. Then he fell to his knees, blood erupting from his severed jugular. The captain looked up from his man to see the second dead as well, disemboweled, and the hunchback flickering around and something coming from his right hand.

Noe moved over to the dead captain, pulling his blade out of the man's forehead. Standing tall, to his full height and casting off his disguise, he took on a new one. He dressed as the captain of the guard, his golden armor fitting the taller man a bit poorly, but it would stand a cursory inspection, and as a captain, a cursory inspection would be all that would be extended. He smiled. Things were working out already. A quick look would show his right hand covered in a glove of very expensive seal-skin leather.

He strapped on the man's ax, liking the feel of the weapon and deciding to keep it for the time being. The newly appointed captain made his way to the gates.

The woman stood not much taller than Alyssa, her gait quite similar and yet that is where the likeness ceased. Her long chestnut locks touched the top of her rear, her body bear for the world to see and yet there wasn't anyone there to take witness. The innocence in her eyes caused a quick jolt against Alyssa's relaxed disposition, the colors on display around the young girl breathtaking and filled with the promise of adventure and wonder. Large trees lined the small path that the girl walked down, the grass plush and soft, the sun's radiance touching them both and bathing them in the very essence of goodness. There were very few words to describe the moment and perhaps had she not known what was to come, Alyssa could have enjoyed the moment.

An image of her father brushed in front of the picture before her, his smile wide and warm, his heart right and true. There had been a time when he'd never have thought to proclaim himself a god and yet with power comes human tendency to rise to far above humanity and claim deity. Something about the Atlas was off, was evil, was not what it appeared to be. She'd yet to question him further, each time she brought it up he seemed to barely contain his emotions, namely anger, over her questioning him and by doing so, calling into question his unlimited power and knowledge.

"You did this," Alyssa whispered to the girl before her, the image coming back into focus and the beautiful young thing made her way through a small gate made of thick redwood, vines twisted around the structure in ornate design. Her feet padded along, Alyssa capable of ignoring her nudity because it simply was a time when thing of that nature had no negative connotation. It was simply and true, right and holy.

Letting a soft breath leave her lips, Alyssa dropped her accusation and simply watched the girl, her eyes full of wonder and excitement for the gifts that lay just beyond the gate. A large tree sat in the middle of the small garden, the top of the tree filling up a good portion of the sky and small birds moving about, singing and showing affection in the only way they knew how. The tree itself was covered with various types of fruits, apples and pears, plumbs and cherries. Alyssa had never seen such a tree and wondered if they were still in existence. Her father would quickly say that a wishing stone could create one, but she wanted nature and things made from the gods above, not a cheap rendition born of power and happenstance.

The girl moved around the tree, her finger stretching as if to caress a piece of bright colored fruit before jerking back as if shocked by the tree. Alyssa tilted her head, trying to look around the girl's figure to see if there might be lightening or some electrical energy running through or around the tree and noted nothing out of the ordinary. She shook her head, gold trestles rushing about as she settled back on her knees and watched. The soft rustling of movement called her attention to the large serpent that moved from the belly of the thick branches and spoke to the girl.

The door behind Alyssa started to open and she knew she was caught, deciding to be a smart ass instead of get caught in a lie. She reached into the scene and plucked the apple beside the serpent, leaning back and moving her hand as the portal closed. The anger sound of her father's voice told her that he didn't believe her antics to be humorous at all. She turned to him and bit deeply into the large red apple, the juice spilling over her small chin as she smiled and chewed quickly.

"Best apple I've ever had." She laughed and moved her hand out in front of her as her father approached.

"You know that is forbidden, child. How dare you mess with the history that has brought up to this point." He stopped just in front of her, something eerie about the fact that he looked more like what a husband might appear to be than her father. Not having aged in years left him stuck in his prime and yet she could clearly see the aging of his soul, the sadness of his eyes as if her true father was lost to the monster that took his place.

"Oh contrair, father..." She took another bite and tossed the apple to him before walking around him to leave the world's room. "You let plenty of men travel through time. I suppose you mean that it is forbidden unless you deem it appropriate for your own nefarious purposes? No?"

He growled at her and held up the apple, his gaze almost burning a hole in her back. "What am I to do with this, child?"

She looked over her shoulder and smirked at him, "Take a bite of it. I'm not sure whether it was the apple or the woman that brought devastation to mankind, so you've a 50/50 chance as far as I can tell."

She left before he started in on her again, walking quickly through the halls of the castle and moving down to the main entrance so that she might blend into the crowd of guards and servants and have a moment of reprieve. The man that stood before her was no more her father than Adam himself and if she were to continue on with this life she would have to discover the truth of the Atlas and bring her father from his godhead comma. He was all she had left.

Move. Always moving. The more you look like you belong, the longer it will take them to realize that you don't. The tall man dressed in the garb of a Captain repeated those words in his mind like a mantra, calming himself down. It was an odd sensation. It wasn't his first walk in this particular park, figuratively and literally, but much had changed. He had never infiltrated a castle that was built to avoid infiltration in such an efficient manner. And he had been to the palace before but that had been a very, very long time ago.

He passed by a few of the guard, chatting while on duty and they immediately quieted themselves as he passed. They all avoided his gaze like it bore a plague and as soon as they thought he was out of earshot, he heard one of them grumble," Thank Gods. He must be new to his position, or we would have been flogged." The words sent a chill down the spine of the Man dressed as a guard. He was noticed, and while it would take them a while to realize that he might just not be a captain, it would be too soon. He was supposed to be in and out without being seen at all.

Keep moving, he told himself. He was on a clock, after all. The great Leader had closed all portal openings for the next few hours for some holiday or another, and thus he wasn't going to be leaving for a while.

He wondered what the man looked like, after all this time. Had he changed, as Noe had himself, or had he remained young and handsome like he had been when they first met?

His blood would still flow red, his eyes would still go dark as his life was drained from him, Noe disciplined his mind, hardening himself against the fact that he was here to visit an old friend, and that one of them would be dead within the space of two hours. If Noe died, it would matter little. If the Leader died, Noe would put ancient prophecies behind him for good, a pox on them.

"Hey, Argurios," He heard a voice behind him, snapping him out of his reverie as he refused to spin around and kept on moving. Please don't run over to me and think I didn't hear you the first time, Noe begged, but as all such wishes, it came to pass. He heard the man jog up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around," Argurios, are you deaf..." He didn't finish his question as his eyes locked on Noe's and a look of suspicion crossed him face," I do believe you put on the wrong armor, fr..." He was cut off as a flicker of movement was barely registered before he felt his throat crushed in a violent blow. Noe moved faster than any man alive, give or take a few, gripping the helmet and the man's chin and twisted savagely. A crack was heard and the man dropped, his head twisted at an unnatural angle.

Bad to worse. He didn't have the time to hide the body. He pushed it into a corner and broke out at a jog. The great leader would be in the higher levels, and Noe was only halfway there.

Something felt off in the movement of the crowd around her, a few heads turning to watch a stranger move through the center of the room, a member of her father's guard in appearance, but something in the way he held himself gave his confidence away. Not to say that the guard her father trained for the castle weren't confident, but like most of the men under the great ruler, they knew their place at his feet and held no longer the strength and conviction that had at the commencement of their would-be careers in the palace. She paid the passerby attention only long enough to assume something was being spun into motion beyond her control.

Instead of giving care to the nagging in her subconscious, she moved through the large ornate doors and out amongst the crowds, her long silk robes dragging the ground and giving those that moved around her a reason to stop and take a second glance. Rarely was she able to mill about with commoners and yet the people of her father's kingdom were far from it. Scientist, inventors, doctors and scribes filled the streets as the soft glow of their sun broke through the clouds and warmed her skin.

A collective sigh lifted from around her and the smile that touched her lips felt almost foreign in her dilapidated spill of emotions as of late. There was little she could say to her father without him becoming quite demeaning and dominate in stature. To try and press an issue awarded detriment to those with enough courage to venture down that dark alley.

She looked around before pulling up the long weight of her skirt and placing a bare foot on a long smooth stone that lead to a silty path of rock and crushed sandstone, the inhabitence of human origin very rarely having traveled it's offer. She brushed her long hair behind her shoulder and moved with agility and purpose, the setting of the sun only a site to be seen from the edge of Gillion's valley and though she was forbidden to go there - she often did.

One did what was required to remember that life was created to be lived.

Somewhere an alarm bell bonged, sending all of the guards of the Great Palace into high alert. There was a clutter for weapons and armor as those that weren't patrolling or given posts reported to the closest commanders and awaited orders. It would make moving along with his plan a whole lot more complex. Guards who were seen not conforming to the alarm bells would be looked upon with suspicion and called to state name and rank. And he just didn't have the time for all of that. A new plan was needed, he thought. Why did things always have to be so difficult. It wasn't like they weren't already damn near impossible.

He felt the urge, the need to use the power that was pent up inside him. He could do it, reach his old friend and end it all, all he had to do was tap into that miraculous energy that flowed through his veins. He had when he had broken into this place. It was so easy. It wanted to be used. It felt alive when mixed into his blood, churning something that was so decayed, so base and... dirty for lack of a better word, and turning it into something more, something so very incredible, unbelievably powerful that it could rock the foundations of the earth itself.

But then what would he become? Using that power would turn him into a siren, an alarm into every head in the palace and they would all converge on him and he was very, very afraid of that. Not for him, of course. He was afraid for them. The power would swamp his senses, demand that he take full use of it, draw from it's true source and he alone would remain at the center of the carnage, the new god, baptized and sacramented in the blood of those that dared oppose him.

And it would bring a new, unspoken prophecy into play, one that had those that knew of it shunning from their mind from the sheer abomination that it held.

He took a deep breath. No. That wasn't what he wanted. He was here to stop a prophecy, but he knew the consequences. He was the only one that could stop this, but he was playing with fire, and was hoping that it wouldn't turn and burn him.

"Hey, you!" A voice sounded behind him, his eyes flickering around," Stop right there!"

He did stop, but not for long, His powerful lean body came to a full halt and he flickered into motion again, flying across the room. There were three of them, blades drawn, glittering gold despite there not being any light reflecting off of them. His own blade was drawn, and before these men could react, they were dead as his feet, blood slipping from their wounds and drenching the flagstones. He spun around, sprinting as fast as he could, as hard as he could, feeling that temptation growing with each step he took closer to the Source.