It all ended with a flash. A sudden coalition of energy in a violent outburst. The most advanced civilization the world has ever known, being washed away from the mistake like any that propose war. The machines that once brought peace and development were implemented for the complete opposite. The fishes made of metal and energy, were flying above the sky, furrowing in a last desperate attempt of protecting what they had set to destruction.
The soldiers escaped from the violent outburst that enraged the oceans, leaving them powerless against the might of Poseidon.
Atlantean (1): "You fool! You've destroyed us all!" The warrior dressed with gold and white, overwhelmed by the elevation of the waters and their certain doom, blamed his compatriot. Although, it was too late to point fingers, a reality that was well aware in his mind. "The wave is gaining! We have to warn Atlantis!"
The monstrous wave evolved each second and each meter through it's advance. Swallowing the ships and all the lives of the Atlanteans on them. While the remaining ones prayed for them to make it in time, to save themselves, but above all, save their kingdom. There seemed to be nothing but hopelessness, while they were going through this bitter drink in their history.
The battalion maneuvers through the terrain, the mountains, the rivers, and the buildings of their city. Reaching multiple soldiers their destiny, but now they have reach it, the question was left in the air. "Will they make it?"
The nucleus of the power that feeded this empire, ignated it's light in beams of red. The Atlanteans were doing the best they could with what little time they had left, making the alarms sound, telling the citizens to put themselves out of danger the best they could.
Atlantean (2): "Everyone to the shelters! Everyone to the shelters!" He rapidly communicated the emergency to all the public. Preoccupied after witnessing the rising wall of water that inch closer and closer.
The skies were influenced by the rage of the sea, as there were nothing but clouds that only made the day turn to bitter darkness, with the only light visible being the violent formations of thunder and lightning.
People screamed, running for their lives, pushing and making their way to safety by any means necessary. The only ones working on their scenery during this call of distress, were the royal guards that tried to guide the royal family out of danger.
Atlantean (Royal Guard): "This way your highness. Quickly!"
The Queen: "Kida, come on!" The empress reached for her daughter, while the King opened the way for them. While the little princess, filled with the innocence of a child, tried to reach for the toy that fell from her tiny hands. Fighting the grip of her mother in a desperate attempt to recuperate it. "Kida, just leave it! There's no time!"
As she stopped to talk to her daughter, the Queen was reached by one of the beams of light from the nucleus of the city. As her eyes turned to the source of the light, there was a sudden calmness on her face, although her mind seemed to travel somewhere out of the same reality. Igniting her eyes completely as she started to ascend through the air. Her hand let go of her daughter's hand, only grasping and taking the bracelet of the princess with her.
Kida: "Mother!Mother!" She didn't want to let go, as she reached as high as her tiny body allowed her to avoid losing her mother. Spilling tears as she couldn't do anything, as her mother lost herself across the light.
The statues of stone that guarded the limits of the city, the behemoth that represented all the previous kings of the kingdom of Atlantis, did the last resort they had. As they reached their hands, to analyse their energy in a barrier of pure energy.
As the expanded and protected more terrain on the city, there was no hope of survival to all those that were left behind, with no protection whatsoever, there was no discrimination on this event. Soldiers, women, men, and even kids were left to their luck after the barrier was set.
While the King and the princess saw the ascension of their beloved, as their home fell to the ruin of the sea. The king tried to calm his daughter as best as he could, and at least not let her see the fate that had chosen her.
The King: "Close your eyes Kida! Look away!" He hugged the tiny girl to his chest, as this one burried all her suffering on the same.
The nucleus and the closing buried could be seen at the top of the dome that was now covering the city, closing themselves. When the barrier was sealed on its completion, the whole dome with the city in it, started to descend through the earth, as the ocean had blocked all view from it. Leaving nothing but tiny bolts of light as the waves relaxed.
The city of Atlantis was no more. No more than memories and relics loose at the end of the deep and vast ocean.
Or was it?
Washington D.C. - 1914
The city of Washington D.C. on a normal day, there was nothing special about it, if you asked any normal people around on the streets. Couples and individuals walked in different directions, some moved by their legs, others moved with the help of a horse in a carriage, and some for the rich were cars of sophisticated status. But for the sake of this story, none of the people who we are interested in, the one we are looking for is at the Smithsonian Institute.
A building of great prestige that contained an uncountable amount of artifacts and wonders that belonged to the same world at the beginning of their history. Memories of great heroes, civilizations, and culture were thought to be erased by time. And the person we are looking for is a handsome, young adult of clear brown hair with spectacles that accommodated his home in the basement of this museum, someone known as "Milo James Thatch." And as we said before, he was far from normal, because at a moment like this, he was at the bridge of a discovery that could revolutionize the whole history of modern humanity.
Milo: "Good afternoon, gentlemen. First off, I'd like to thank this board for taking the time to hear my proposal. Now, we've all heard of the of Atlantis, a continent somewhere in the mid-Atlantic that was home to an advanced civilization possessing technology far beyond our own..." He standed at the front of a room that could easily infer that he was at the front of many important individuals, although this was nothing more than a practice for his real presentation in a couple of minutes. As he was standing at a podium at the front of two boards one that showed the whole earth's geographic structure and another that had written ancient runes that were translated as "Coast of Ireland."
"...that, according to our friend Plato, was struck by some cataclysmic event that sank it beneath the sea." He moved around at his podium trying to emphasize and acted his own words to approach them assertively and reflect his own energy at his expectators. "Now, some of you may ask, why Atlantis? It's just a myth, isn't it? Pure fantasy." As his presentation elevated the tone of seriousness around what he preached, he wanted to show nothing more than his own discoveries so he could understand his excitement over this. He got in front of him a bunch of cardboards, the first one with the name of "Atlantis" as he disposed of them at the speed that he mentioned the illustrations.
"Well, that is where you'd be wrong, before the Egyptians built the pyramids Atlantis had electricity, advanced medicine, even the power of flight. Impossible, you say? Well, no. No, not for them. Numerous ancient cultures all over the agree that possessed a source of some kind more powerful than steam, than coal. More powerful than our modern internal combustion engines. Gentlemen, I propose that we find Atlantis find that power source and bring it back to the surface." His emotion was at its peak, his intentions, his whole investigation of tiring nights, were all here on this proposal that challenged every pessimistic thought about finding this legendary city.
"Now, this is a page from an illuminated text that describes a book called the Shepherd's Journal said to have been a first-hand account of Atlantis and its exact whereabouts. Now, based on a centuries-old translation of a Norse text historians have believed the Journal resides in Ireland." He made a little paused as he got at the back of the board to move at the view of everyone a shield made of metal and wood that was almost the size of most of his body, and that considering his slim arms and legs, he had a difficult time speaking because of the effort exerted. "But after comparing the text to the runes on this Viking shield I found that one of the letters had been mistranslated. So, by changing this letter and inserting the correct one we find that the Shepherd's Journal the key to Atlantis...lies not in Ireland, gentlemen...but in Iceland." He erased the letter "R" from the board and wrote on the same space with the same chalk the letter "C" which by the way seemed to be hard, as he hadn't let go of the Viking Shield.
"Pause for effect." He stopped so his expectations could process the theoretical excitement experienced of having such astounding news break to them. Although, they can't really feel anything. "Gentlemen, uh, I'll take your questions now." Reaching his conclusion, he let go of the shield to fix his clothes as he once again talked directly to his simulated audience.
[Telephone rings]
Milo: "Uh, you gentlemen, please excuse me for a moment?" As the phone rang, he was taken back as he didn't expect to be interrupted. He jumped over the board to finally attend to the ringing telephone. One of those classic models with a speaker separated from the rest only united by a single cable. "Cartography and Linguistics, Milo speaking." Because of his discoveries he was rather happy, but it didn't live long enough as he encountered an unsatisfied man with the current state of the boiling room at the other side of the phone.
"Yeah. Uh, just... just a second. Pardon me, Mr. Hickenbottom." He left the phone alone for a second and made his way to the other extreme of the room. He passed through rather long feets of moving just books and relics. Once he got to the main machine that earned the name of said room, he gave a couple of turns to the handles to finally give a last touch to the combination striking with a metal wrench. It was a rather peculiar form of fixing it, but effective nonetheless, something that would only get it after experiencing the same problem through years. The boiler ignited rather strongly once again, surely that fixed the petition. "How's that? Is that better?" Although the voice at the other side had an affirmation to the question, he was still able to be heard with a rather angry demeanor. "Uh-huh. Yeah. You're welcome." He hangs the phone for a few seconds reflecting a depressed look, he must have to endure those types of attitudes from his superiors all the time.
"Now, as you can see by the...by this, um, map... map, uh, that... that... ahem... that I've drawn..." When he descended from the other side of the board, he spotted that part of his diagram now was resting on his clothes rather than the board of himself. Thinking fast, realizing that it would be too late to draw it again, he chose to place himself at the front as he was the last piece of the map. "I plotted the route that will take myself and a crew to the coast of Iceland to retrieve the Journal."
[Cuckoos four times]
"Ah, showtime. Well, this is it. I am getting out of the dungeon." His hopes were so elevated right now, it was hard to think of anything that could ruin his mood right now. Although, that would be talking too quickly for comfort, the world spins rather fast and hard sometimes, and you don't know how things may change from one moment to another.
But before the cruel reality knocked on his door, he had a split moment to reach a memorial and some photos of the most important people in his life. A photo that showed a tiny Milo with the same intellectual appearance that he has right now, only a little more childish. And he was accompanied by an older man with an explorer suit and hat. He had spectacles like Milo in the photo, just a little bit smaller. His grandpa, his paternal figure and the one that raised him and his brother after the death of his parents. And talking about his brother, on the other side of the couch, you could see a kid a few years older than Milo himself, he had a similar way of combing his hair, although this kid had no glasses and seemed a much more sturdy composure, he didn't seem as fragile. He was wearing something similar to a tiny and infant version of a formal marine soldier suit, something that was rather common at the time. There was a smile on his face, but unlike Milo's this one wasn't of pure happiness, more of serenity and calmness.
He could still remember the day when they took this photo. The day that his grandpa let him have his explorer hat. He smiled as he recalled that at the moment his hat was still bigger than his own head, and always ended up with the hat half way down his face. A memory where all were happy, both his grandpa and his brother laughing about the event. Deciding now that he had grown, he would try the hat again. Looking at himself in the mirror for the first seconds everything was all in order, he could see the resemblance with his ancestor, but the same as when he was little the hat went back half way down his face. Maybe his head hasn't grown a lot since he was little. But a thud interrupted his happy memory with a telegram that had reached the boiling room.
"Dear Mr. Thatch, this is to inform you... that your meeting today has been moved up... from 4:30 P.M. to 3:30 P.M." What?" A telegram had fallen from the tube system of the museum with a letter with no merry news. And just when he tried to process what just happened, a second telegram fell again. "Dear Mr. Thatch, due to your absence...the board has voted to reject your proposal. Have a nice weekend. Mr. Harcourt's office. They can't do this to me!" Of course it was not the first attempt from Milo to persuade the Member of the Board about Atlantis, so he was familiarized with their ways to set him up.
But he wasn't having it. Not this time.
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At the higher grounds of the museum, Mr. Harcourt and the members of the board were exiting a room. And they seemed rather pleased with themselves, they didn't have any shame at showing what levels of dishonesty they were able to reach just to avoid the young and enthusiastic Milo.
Member of the Board 1: "I swear, that young Thatch gets crazier each year." They all were fixing their jackets and their black top hats.
Member of Board 2: "If I ever hear the word Atlantis again...I'll step in front of a bus!" The man was really desperate if he was making such a declaration, even if it was a joke.
Member of the Board 1: "Ha ha ha! I'll push you!" He gave a little push with his elbow to not only Mister Harcourt but to the other 2 members of the board behind him. Everyone started to laugh about the situation, but it was time for them to suffer for their actions when the voice of said boy reached their ears. There was no stopping Milo when something so important got on his head.
Milo: "Mr. Harcourt! Good Lord! There he is! Members of the board... uh, wait!" He was running as fast as all his papers and resources needed for his presentation allowed him to.
Harcourt: "How did you find us?" This question was recognizable even under all the sounds of panic and shoes rapidly moving against the floor. Every single board member ran like his life depended on it, for a bunch of old men they moved rather fast. One by one, all disappear at one of the multiple doors that made the hall they were standing in on.
Milo: "Mr. Harcourt, wait!"
Member of the Board: "Head for the hills!
Harcourt: "Where is a guard when you need him?" But Mr. Harcourt was being the tiniest and the fatest of the group, he was rather slow at saving himself at one of the doors, and his friends because of the fear of running into Milo, didn't let him in. So, his last and poor resource was hiding himself behind a slim plant, that was so small that could cover nothing of Mr. Harcourt's fat semblance.
Milo: "Mr. Harcourt, you gotta to listen to me, sir!...Uh, sir?" Milo was successful on reaching Mr. Harcourt as he moved the leafs of the plant out of the way, so he could talk to him eye to eye. But Mr. Harcourt reacted quickly by opening his umbrella. Making Milo to drop all his belongings. "Wait! Mr. Harcourt!..." He followed as fast as he could Mr. Harcourt through all the museum, reaching him almost at the entrance, where Harcourt was able to retreat with a couple of seconds to his car and butler. "Sir, l-I have new evidence that... Please, Mr. Harcourt! Stop! Sir, if you... Could you hold... Thank you very much. Look at..." But before Harcourt could make his great escape, Milo reached his window. Hitting him by accident and then letting all his papers inside the car as he tried to explain the contains of such papers only to be stopped by an angry Mr. Harcourt.
Harcourt: "This museum funds scientific expeditions... based on facts, not legends and folklore." He threw all the paper that was inside his car back to him. Only to hug him and talk in a much relaxed tone, although with a sinister smile. "Besides, we need you here. We depend on you."
Milo: "You do?" He got his hopes up.
Harcourt: "Yes! What with winter coming... that boiler's going to need a lot of attention." He let the bomb drop on his enthusiastic mind.
Milo: "Boiler?"
Harcourt: "Onward, Heinz!" To him, this conversation was over, so he instructed his butler to turn on the car and start their way home.
Milo: "But there...there's a journal! It's in Iceland! I'm sure of it this time!" Milo in his desperation followed Mr. Harcourt's car while he maneuvered a map that ended up laying on his face. While on the other side of the window, the man wasn't having it, and decided to ignore the young man in hot pursuit.
[Thud]
"Sir, I hoped it wouldn't come to this...but this is... uhh... a letter of resignation. If you reject my proposal, I'll... Whoa!" The crazy Milo had thrown himself at the front of the car, the guy deserved it, he was rather persistent. And he slammed the letter at the front crystal of the car, this was his definite last attempt. But he couldn't finish nor stay in the car too long, as the butler swept him off the car with a maneuver of the wheel.
"I'll quit!" This sentence seemed to finally reach the ears of the man. As the car suddenly came to a stop and went back to the boy. "I mean it, sir. If you refuse to fund my proposal..." He was beyond mad, it was a scandal everything the board had done to set him up for failure.
Harcourt: "You'll what? Flush your career down the toilet just like your grandfather? You have a lot of potential, Milo. Don't throw it all away chasing tales." He mimicked all his actions to emphasize in his perspective the ridicule that Milo's Grandpa had become.
Milo: "But I can prove Atlantis exists!"
Harcourt: "You want to go on an expedition? Here. Take a trolley to the Potomac and jump in!Maybe the cold will clear your head. Heinz!" He threw a penny towards the boy, he had no mercy on the hopes and efforts that he had made. And as his car resumed its movement, the tires came in contact with a puddle that ended up soaking our dear protagonist.
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The whole ordeal was a bit of a scandal at the street that it displayed. Many people had gathered there, some that stopped from their way to work, some that were just passing by and didn't have anything important to do. But there a single man that standed more than the rest, while all women had outstanding and luxurious dresses of multiple colors and the men had common black suits with elegance emanating from them, this man in particular had a green suit, propor of the armed forces, combat boot, and if you looked at one side of his chest, you could register the many condecorations with different medals earned in actions. His face was handsome, a face sharpened by the injustices of war, yet still you could detect a kind and calm aura coming off from him. His hair was covered by a hat that complemented his whole attire.
Both women and men moved from his way, not because of fear, the looks of the faces on that street were admiration, longing and mostly of all respect.
He took his hat off, letting the world see a midnight clear brown hair that was comb backwards completely glued to the form of his head. As the young expert on linguistics was still sad about the way his proposal and dreams had crashed down. Not to say public humiliation, his surroundings were the last thing on his head. Until the soldier finally reached him and with a simple and controlled laugh, he called the attention of the soaked Milo.
Griffin: "You know, I was looking forward to our reunion, although I never expected to see you playing with water in the middle of the street." He was standing completely straight with his arms crossed around his chest. But there was still a smile, a smile that showed pearl white teeth.
Milo: "That voice?! It can't be..." His stare was a combination of both excitement and surprise. He knew that voice very well. All those times that that voice had lectured him, and corrected him in the past. He turned around like lightning, all the wet clothes he had moved like the wind, letting some drop of water fall in the distance. "Flint!" He said in realization as his older brother was standing a few meters away from him, in all his glory.
Griffin: "Hey, Milo...come here!" He said not breaking the smile as he laughed at the surprise look that his sibling had imprinted on his face.
Milo got his composure back, rapidly moving his feet to approach the waiting figure of his family with open arms. He had a hard time not crying at the moment.
Milo: "Flint, you are here!" He said with bottled up emotion in his voice, he was not only surprised to see him here in all his splendor. There were definitely a few tears running down the sides of his face.
Griffin: "You okay?" He asked as he let go of the embrace, while still holding the shoulder of his little brother tenderly.
Milo: "Yeah, *sniff*... Tears of joy." He said quietly as he used one of his hands to clean the running tears. And he let go a few breaths of the same emotion. "But what are you doing here? I thought that you wouldn't come visit until the start of the New Year! Why didn't you tell me? I could have prepared a welcoming feast."
Griffin: "Haha, War is safer than your cooking, Milo." He said not to break his calm demeanor and happy expression. "I got a special permit to come early. Someone important contacted me this week, he pulled some strings for me to come and see him. With a few days to rest as well." He said with a little more serious atmosphere surrounding him. " So, I took the chance, besides I need to check on you, make sure you stay out of trouble. But after what I saw right now, you are not doing so great on that, huh." He said in a joking manner, his brother was a time-bomb when it meant to get himself in problems.
Milo: "Oh, that." He said as he looked back to where the car of Mr. Harcourt disappeared to, he then in embarrassment pawed the back of his neck with his hand. " How much did you see?"
Griffin: "I was here since the part, when Harcourt said he needed you at the boiler."
Milo: " Yeah well, let's just say that they were not interested in my proposal."
Griffin: "The message was clear and convincing."
Milo: "But, they are wrong, about me, about Atlantis, and our Grandpa. And I'm going to prove it." He started gathering all the items, papers, and his whole investigation about the lost continent that proved the veracity of his words.
Griffin: "And how exactly are you going to do that?" He said as he got on his knees alongside his brother to start gathering everything that was on the floor.
Milo: "I..." He turned to look at his brother, with an expression of expectations. " I don't know. And I can't go back to the boiler, if I do, I might just go insane." He said in a moment of darkness about his life. " I wish Gran Gran was here."
Griffin: " Milo, I understand how you feel, but you need to start letting go. He is in a better place now, but he cannot rest completely in peace if you keep going like this." He turned to look at his brother, the sad eyes behind his spectacles really put a toll on him, he was a rock when it came to the war and his soldiers but on the inside he was a big softy, specially with Milo. "But don't worry, I will figure something out, I always do."
Milo: "Yeah." He responded with still depressed humor, but it was more lively than before.
Griffin: " Hey, cheer up! Let's put all these things away and go home, let's discuss everything over some lilac tea. We still have a lot to catch up on." He passed one of his books back at Milo with an attempt to distract him from his sadness.
Milo: "It's your favorite, alright! Let us!" He said in a much animated state. As Griffin walked alongside his brother to the museum.
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The brothers took their sweet time at the museum catching up on all the news about one another. At first, it was Milo talking about all the time he spended at the translation of different ancient texts that would help him with his proposal to fund an expedition. Along all the stupid traps and set ups the Members of the Board had accomplish to reject him each time.
But once they started their way home, it was time for Griffin to starts his stories about all the adventures and misfortunes that he had to encounter at war. Although, that some stories were about wars that were over a few years ago, the government release the information to the public completely, so he could tell his tale without any holdback. As they were nearing the climax of the story, they were reaching as well, the door to Milo's apartment.
Griffin: " Haha, I tell you, he had me on the ropes, somehow I managed to find cover on a wooden table and what does Pascual Cervera y Topete do?" He made Milo turn around before he could take out his key to open the door.
Milo: "He starts monologuing?!" He said trying hard not to laugh too much and awaken the neighbors, it was already night when they got there. Milo always enjoyed Griffin's stories, especially the humor he funded on them, even when at the time of the story itself he was in a distressed situation.
Griffin: "He starts monologuing!!! He starts this prepared speech about how feeble I am compared to him, how inevitable the US' defeat is, how the world would soon be his, yara, yara. The guy has me on a platter and he won't shut up!" He was making fun of one of the situations he encountered during a special mission during the Spanish American War with the rival leader.
Milo took a few seconds to open the door, entering both leaving their jackets at the entrance. Although the atmosphere was weird, it was obscure, it was raining outside and there was a certain feeling that they weren't the only ones present. But this one was only detectable for the older Thatch as he silently took his gun from the side of his pocket and was preparing himself for anything.
Milo: "I'm home. Fluffy?...Here, kitty." He said as he tried to call for his mascot at the same time that he tried to turn on the lights, that after a few clicks, there was no denying that the lamp didn't work.
When a thunder from the rain outside gave some light into the room, the Thatch brothers distinguished a silhouette that was in front with her back turned to them. The older Thatch knew that something wasn't alright in that room, and rapidly put his brother behind him in order to protect him as he took aim at the woman with his Colt Military Model 1911.
Griffin: "YOU! IDENTIFY YOURSELF!!!" The soldier was on high alert, all those years in the war weren't wasted on him. If he was on the battlefield he wouldn't have had any doubt to pull the trigger, but he needed to control himself now that he was temporarily out of combat. And what he didn't need right now, was the military on his ass accusing him of shooting a civilian or the wrong use of military resources.
Helga: "Relax, Lieutenant. I'm here alone, with no weapons." She said as she moved her attire a little to the sides to reveal that her statement was true. But also, it shows now that the light from the window illuminates her enough to show her attractive attributes as well as provocative attire. "Griffin Jaeger Thatch and Milo James Thatch?"
Milo: "Who... who are you? How did you get in here?" He said nervously and still surprised by her sudden presence in his apartment, he asked while he was taking cover behind his brother, that although was more relaxed and had lowered his gun a little, he hadn't put it completely away.
Helga: "I came down the chimney. Ho, ho, ho..." She sat herself at the sofa that was at the corner of the room next to the window, taking her coat from her shoulders slowly and sensually, as each fiber of fabric exposed that fair skin that any man would find enchanting.
Griffin: "Would you look at that, Santa Claus finally got me what I wanted for christmas." The sarcastic remark of the Soldier would appear to be received kindly by the eyes of the blond right there. To Milo it was strange, even in all his expertise on different languages, he couldn't decipher the extravagant communication of flirting, something that these two seem to understand too well.
Helga: "My name is Helga Sinclair. I'm acting on behalf of my employer who has a most intriguing proposition for you. Are you interested?" She crossed her legs and clean some imaginary dirt on her leg near her knees. She knew exactly what she was doing, after all, her missions on spionage depend many times on her sex appeal.
Milo: "Your... your... your employer? Heh. Who is your employer?" He was confused, who in his right mind would send a extrange woman to recruit someone about a proposal.
Helga: "A gentleman known as Preston Whitmore." She said slowly, her voice was smooth with a feminie touch that could drive any normal man into a hormonal overdrive.
Milo: "Preston Whitmore...Who is he?" He didn't recall an individual with that name.
Griffin: "The old Whitmore is still alive, I thought he had finally kicked the bucket." His brother looked at him surprised that he knew who she was talking about.
Milo: "Who is him?"
Griffin: "It was one of Grandpa's old friends, he was actually the one that contacted me, he said he needed to talk to me, but I never expected for him to send "Black Widow" to take us there." The woman had little twinkle in those deep and mesmerizing blue eyes.
Helga: "Once you know both, war and Mr. Whitmore, you learn to be cautious and divert your attention." She said as she had got up from her seat and started to circulate the Older Thatch. "Now, that that is out of the way, please follow me, I would take you two to Mr. Whitmore."
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Even through the night sky and the merciless rain falling upon them, they could see the great and magnificent Whitmore Manor, a construction even someone as Mr. Harcourt or the Whole Board of the Museum couldn't afford it in ten lifetimes. Once they entered, Helga had lost some of that relaxed attitude and it was a lot quicker, going straight to the point of her directions.
Helga: "This way, please. And don't drip on the Caravaggio. Step lively. Mr. Whitmore does not like to be kept waiting. You will him as "Mr. Whitmore'' or "Sir." You will stand unless asked to be seated. Keep your sentences short and to the point. Are we clear?" Through all that, the three of them enter into a open door elevator, while all of them started to descend Helga took the liberty to start fixing Milo's appearance as he wasn't on the best of state after his rejection at the museum. When she finished with Milo, she turned to the Older Thatch.
The man in question had an impeccable appearance, proper of any good militar. As she didn't find anything to fix on his persona, she decided to give a friendly slap on his cheek, something that said along the lines "You are okay like that." To which responded with a tiny smirk forming on his lips, and that same action reflected on Helga's face as well.
Helga: "And relax... He doesn't bite... often." When they reached the lower grounds of the mansion, they got out of the elevator as Helga stayed behind and started to close the little doors of the same object.
Griffin: "What about you? Do you bite?" He said as he turned his head to the woman, who found herself a little bit amused by his comment, but she also wasn't going to let him reach any base with her.
Helga: "Easy, there. Buy me dinner first and maybe I will consider it." She said with a smirk as the elevator found its way again to the higher levels of the construction, and Helga was quickly getting out of sight.
The brothers started to walk within the level, it was some sort of studio with a lot of memorials, books, and god knows what more. Everything was almost in complete darkness, the only light that the room had was a chimney at the very back of it. And what called the attention of the young Thatch was the picture of an old man saluting the camera with his Grandpa right beside him.
Milo: "Grandpa?" He was surprised that something from his grandpa was in the house of someone that he considered a total stranger.
Whitmore: "Finest explorer I ever met. Preston Whitmore. Pleasure to meet you, Milo." The old man was talking at the same time that he did a sort of weird yoga that cracked some of his old bones, it seemed that it relaxed him. Maybe that was the secret behind how an old dinosaur like him could do poses like those. "And look what we have here, Captain Flint. Nice of you taking the liberty to come." He said in realization when he got to look at the older grandson of Thaddeus.
Griffin: "Sup, Preston. Still alive I see." He crossed his arms to his chest with a pleasant smile.
Whitmore: "You know what they say, son. Weeds are not killed by the frost." He said with a little laugh while he continued to do those weird and extravagant yoga poses.
Griffin: "Besides, I couldn't turn down such a generous offer, considering that you persuade the higher ups for me to take a few days free."
Whitmore: "Yeah, you are not an easy man to get a hold of, as War Medic your presence is in high demand these days. Make sure you keep those stook ups in line, when they find someone like you, they subjugate until nothing is left behind." He said as he took a short break from his yoga and took the liberty to hug Griffin in a quick embrace. "It's good to see you, Flint. Haha, Gain more muscle boy and I would need a bigger door." He took a few seconds to look at him, as he could see the imposing presence and body that this young man carried, to his perspective, the young and tiny Jeegar he met all those years ago turned into a fine man.
Griffin: "Hehe, Likewise."
Whitmore: "Join me in a little yoga?" He said as he returned once again into his practice, trying to invite the young Milo into some exercise, something that he definitely needed.
Milo: "Uh, no, no. Thank you. Did you really know my grandfather?"
Whitmore: "Oh, yeah. Met old Thaddeus back in Georgetown. Class of '66. We stayed close friends till the end of his days." He had his feet at the top of his head as he had managed to do the form of a scorpion with his body. For an old fossil he had good flexibility. "Even dragged me along on some of his danged fool expeditions. Thatch was crazy as a fruit bat, he was. He spoke of you often."
Milo: "Funny. He... he never mentioned you." He said he didn't know how to react to this new acquaintance that knew a lot about him, but he had no clue of his existence until a few hours ago.
Whitmore: "Oh, he wouldn't. He knew how much I liked my privacy." His next yoga pose was one that needed him to be upside down, with nothing to support him that just his head and arms, but those loose robes follow the laws of physics and gravity, leaving the old man completely exposed. While Griffin facepalmed as he was disgusted with the view in front of him, as Milo simply turned to look at the side. "I keep a low profile."
Milo: "Mr. Whitmore, should I be wondering why I'm here?
Whitmore: "Look on that table..." He pointed to a little wooden table that was at the front of the chimney, on the table there was a cubic package enveloped on gray and beige sort of paper, with a little note in it. "Ah! It's for you. It's... it's from my grandfather. He brought that package to me years ago. He said if anything were to happen to him. I should give it to you two when you are both ready... whatever that means." He continued with his yoga poses, although this time, it seemed to be more like karate posture.
Milo: "It...It can't be..."
Griffin: "Is that..." Both said in sudden realization what they got in front of them, a book with a spiral symbol on the front with a brown background. That object was something they knew very well, Milo knew it from all the investigations and information he had gathered on the subject. And Griffin knew it... Well, he was Thaddeus' grandson as well, he learned everything from his grandfather, aside from Milo, Griffin was probably the only one that knew enough about this subject.
Milo/Griffin: " It's the Shepherd's Journal." They both said in unison as they looked at each other's eyes for a few seconds. They had finally found the key journal that could take them to Atlantis.
Milo: "Mr. Whitmore, this is the key to finding the lost continent of Atlantis!"
Whitmore: "Atlantis! Ha ha ha! I wasn't born yesterday, son." He had the time to drink a little god knows what from a goble. Hoping is water.
Milo: "No, no, no. Look... Look at this. Coordinates. Clues. It's all right here." He opened the book and started to read some pages.
Whitmore: "Yeah, like gibberish to me." He talked while he changed right in front of the two young men.
Milo: "That's it's been written in a dialect that no longer exists." They continued their conversation from response to response, while Griffin was busy recalling everything that his grandfather had told him, as he watched his picture, Griffin was sure that now with the journal in their hands, they could finally continue his Grandpa's legacy.
Whitmore: "So it's useless."
Milo: "No, no, just difficult. I've my whole life studying dead languages. It's not gibberish to Flint and me."
Whitmore: "Ah, it's probably a fake." After this remark, both Griffin and Milo turned to look at him, they felt offended that knowing his Grandpa as well as he said he knew him, that he could even think about that possibility.
Griffin: "Whitmore, my grandfather would have known if this were a fake. We know. I will stake everything I own, everything that I believe in that this is the genuine Shepherd's Journal." Milo during this declaration of his brother did nothing more than nodding and expressing his emotion against the previous statement.
Whitmore: "All right, all right. So what do you want to do with it?" Preston, now fully dressed in his elegant white suit, decided to sit down on the big ass table in the studio, next to the fish tank that was so big, that the fishes that lived there were just one hair away from being the size of white sharks.
Milo: "Well, Ill... Ill... I'll get funding. I mean, Ill... The museum..." When he and Griffin got to the other side of the table, Griffin could only watch with a happy smile, seeing his little brother having such fire in his eyes. It was something not easily accomplished.
Whitmore: "They'll never believe you."
Milo: "I'll show them! I will make them believe." He said with determination.
Whitmore: "Like you did today?" That was a low blow, definitely Preston Whitmote knew how to be a savage when the discussion was worth it.
Milo: "Yes! Well, no.How did you... Forget them, OK? Never mind! I will find Atlantis on my own...mean, if I have to rent a rowboat!" He finally losted, yet still he had nothing more in his mind than finding Atlantis, not only to enrich the world with the knowledge and discovery of the century, but he could prove to everyone that doubted the Thatch Family wrong. Griffin, put a hand on the shoulder of his brother, whatever was going to happen, he was going to see through the end with him.
Whitmore: "Congratulations, Milo. This is exactly what I wanted to hear. But forget the rowboat, son. We'll travel in style. It's all been arranged, the whole ball of wax." He pushed a button on the table, as from it started to ascend all the 3D Models of equipment that was being prepared, a submarine was the biggest and most complicated of all of them.
Milo: "Why?"
Whitmore: "For years your granddad bent my ear with stories about that old book. I didn't buy it for a minute. So finally I got fed up... and made a bet with the old coot. I said, "Thatch, if you ever find... that so-called journal... not only will I finance the expedition...but I'll kiss you full on the mouth." Imagine my embarrassment when he found the darn thing." He showed them a picture of his Grandpa spilling saliva from his mouth with a clear look of disgust, and with Whitmore on the other side of the picture, cleaning his mouth with the sleeve of his suit. "Now I know your grandfather's gone, Flint, Milo... God rest his soul, but Preston Whitmore is a man who keeps his word. You hear that, Thatch?... I'm going to the afterlife with a clear conscience, by thunder!"
He took a moment to stop himself and proclaim his pain for the death of his great friend.
"Your grandpa was a man. You don't realize how great. Those buffoons at the museum dragged him down... made a laughing stock of him. He died a broken man. If I could bring back just one shred of proof that'd be for me... Ah, Thatch." There was nothing but bottle up pain and frustration in his words, but yet there was a hopeful tone emanating from him. With the journal, he could prove everyone that laughed about his friend wrong now. At the grandsons of said man, were the ones at the front of this. " What are we standing for, boys? We got work to do."
Milo: "But, Mr. Whitmore, you know, in order to do what you're proposing, you're gonna need a crew."
Whitmore: "Taken care of!" Whitmore moved his walking stick so fast that it risked for the boys to fall, Griffin was quick at realizing this and simply moved out of the way in a single and elegant move. Milo on the other hand, met his destiny with the floor.
Milo: "You'll need engineers and... and geologists."
Whitmore: "Got 'em all. The best of the best. Gaetan Moliere, geology and excavation. The man has a nose for dirt. Vincenzo Santorini, demolitions. Busted him out of a Turkish prison. Audrey Ramirez. Don't let her age fool you. She's forgotten more about engines than you or I will ever know. They're the same crew that brought the Journal back." He showed the boys all the papers that had the images and all the information about the specialties of each person as well as their respective roles on this adventure.
Milo: "Where was it?" He got to his feet once again with energy, it was the only form to confirm if his theory was alright.
Whitmore: "Iceland." He showed a picture of all the crew members along with Thaddeus Thatch at the back, with the journal on their hands.
Milo: "I knew it! I knew it!"
Whitmore: "All we need now is an expert in gibberish..." He said at the side of Milo, while he took Griffin by the shoulder and smiled at him. "And let's not forget, that we would need someone acclimated to action and a medic if anything goes wrong, what do you say, Flint, my boy? Just one more adventure, to face despair just a little more?"
Griffin: "It's a good day to meet despair!" He said with a smirk on his face.
Whitmore: "He is a Thatch, alright!!!" He gave a little celebration, Griffin had said the exact thing he expected, a man with no fear to success. "So it's decision time. You can build on the foundation your grandfather left you or you can go back to your boilder room."
Milo: "This is for real." Milo had a lot to processo and so little time to do so.
Whitmore: "Now you're catching on." He signals him with his walking stick.
Milo: "All right. OK. L-l-I'llhave to quit my job." He began to think of all the things that needed to be arranged for them to depart completely with no worries whatsoever.
Whitmore: "It's done. You resigned this afternoon."
Milo: "I did?"
Whitmore: "Yep. Don't like to leave loose ends." He started to fix his snow white beard.
Milo: "Um, my apartment. I have to give notice."
Whitmore: " Taken care of."
Milo: "My clothes?"
Whitmore: "Packed."
Milo: "My books?"
Whitmore: "In storage."
Milo: "My cat?" And even before he could finish his thought process, there was a little "Meow" coming from his shoulder only to see that his little fur ball was right there beside him. "My gosh." He was taken back by how serious all this had turned out.
Griffin: "How about all my supplies, weapons, and medic equipment?" He said with a smile, he already knew the answer that he was going to get, but asked anyway just to test out the old man.
Whitmore: "They have been right beside you for the last 5 minutes." He said as he applied a sort of refreshment from his goblet once again. As Griffin turned around to see at his feet a couple of briefcases, one completely cubic where he saved all his medic equipment, and then there was some bigger with anthropomorphic form where all his weapons were.
Griffin: "Ha, not bad!" He said as he realize what the old man said was true.
Whitmore: "Your granddad had a saying. "Our lives are remembered...by the gifts we leave our children." This journal is his gift to you, Milo. Atlantis is waiting. What do you say?
Milo: "I'm your man, Mr. Whitmore. You will not regret this. Boy, I am so excited, l-l-l-I can't even hold it in." He was so enthusiastic right now that he didn't even notice that he was putting his jacket backwards, with a crazy smile plastered on his face.
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Well, there goes the first real chapter of the movie "Atlantis: The Lost Empire," this is one of the stories that I was also really excited to release. And I think I would only be making the stories about movies while I work on the story of BNHA, until it reach a good point. I think that way we can have a little more variety, and considering that they are movies, it won't take a lot to finish them.
All my stories are being prepared, I had made a lot of advances with the trama of almost every story I promised that was going to be published. You guys won't want to miss it...
As always, although that I seem inactive in Wattpad, I'm always reflecting on your comments, follows, and how to make my stories even better.
Thank you and see you on the next chapter