Chapter Text
Prologue
“She’s late.”
Three figures sat in a grand room, high vaulted ceilings crowded in dim light. Bookshelves and baubles and curios filled the room’s edges, but the scant three occupants made the room appear far too large. A single round table stood in the middle, the figures seated around it; one gilded chair remained empty. The speaker, a deformed looking creature that couldn’t be compared to any other, sat hunched, irritated; his foot tapped impatiently as he eyed the doorway.
The figure beside him, a thin and pale woman with inky black hair, rolled her eyes, unbothered. “She’s always late,” the woman muttered.
As if on cue, the door swung open with a decisive creak. A curved woman, cloaked, strode into the room with an air of authority. The others fell silent as she stood above the table, not bothering to sit. She slammed a piece of paper down on the slate surface, the heel of her palm digging into the parchment.
“What is this?” Her voice was smooth, and deceitfully quiet. Anyone could tell she was fuming—and the low spoken question was far worse than yelling. But her companions were not deterred.
A man who held himself with regality regarded the paper with interest, before his dark lips curved upwards in a pleased sneer. He took the paper, worn and fragile, from the hostile woman with long slender fingers. “This is magnificent…” he muttered.
The male beside him, more creature than man, huffed. “Big whoop. We’ve all known,” he sneered.
The hooded woman spun on him. “But we have not known the location,” she hissed. Her pale eyes, the color of ashen bones, flashed in anger. “So imagine my surprise when some hound dogs know of this before me.” Her fingernails scraped against the smooth surface of the table, but no one flinched.
“Don’t look at me,” the creature growled. A tail-like appendage, a scaly thing the color of lavender, snaked its way around his figure to point at the pale woman next to him. “She was the expert here,” his scratchy voice informed, rather obviously.
All eyes looked to the unconcerned woman, who was admiring her own manicure. With an exasperated sigh, the woman flipped her inky hair over her shoulder, and she glared at the other woman with violet eyes. "What did you think I was going to talk about today?” she asked rather rhetorically. She laughed, the melodious voice turning to a cackling sound.
The standing woman narrowed her eyes dangerously. “I—we—should have known sooner,” she snarled. “We could have had an army amassed days ago.”
The tall dark skinned man hummed with displeasure. “We would move in to topple the place so soon, while we have watched Atlantica for ages?” The pale woman grunted in agreement.
The hooded woman, who now removed her hood to reveal a narrow face and thick dark hair, scowled. “Atlantica has been taken care of.” She looked at the other woman pointedly. “And it has nothing of value save for one thing that has been hidden away.” She took the piece of paper back, revealing itself to be an age-old map, complete with what looked to be Norse runes. “This is not something to take lightly. And thanks to someone’s carelessness—” She raked her gaze across the others in the room, “Soon even the mercenaries will know. And I will not lose this opportunity.”
“Woah there, take it easy,” the creature placated. “I’m sure Mr. Pointy-Beard over here didn’t mean that we wouldn’t leave immediately or anything.” He shared a glare with the other man briefly. “Besides, it was his hesitance that almost cost us Corona.”
The man stood abruptly, slamming his hands down on the table. “Now listen here—”
He was cut short when the dark haired woman, obviously the one in charge, hissed at both of them. “Corona has been dealt with—now, we have something a little more… tasteful on our hands, and I will not lose it to carelessness!” She glared at the creature. “Or have we not forgotten Russia?”
The creature dithered. “No…” he growled. “We haven’t…”
She calmed. “Good.” The woman regarded the map again. “We will act soon, trust me. We will move forward in no less than a month—I trust that is enough time to amass our forces?”
Three affirmatives, all at varying levels of certainty, sounded around the table. After all, they had all prepared for this moment, and hunger entered their eyes. The woman’s lips curved upwards, her eyes burning with voracity. “And when that happens…” She traced a finger over the map, chuckling to herself.
“Atlantis will be ours.”
Chapter 1: There's No Shame in Hasty Retreats
November 11, 2016 – 3:42 p.m.
“Checkmate.”
“Wha—?! That was only, like, ten moves!”
“And all of your moves were terrible.”
“This is why I don’t play Chess with you.”
Two boys sat alone in the middle of the woods, comfortably seated in a tree with a beat up chess board. The sight may have been deemed strange by any passersby, but honestly, no one ever cared enough to check up on two orphans. For that is indeed what the two boys were, and the overcrowded orphanage at which they stayed—Sixth Street Home for Boys—hardly knew they existed, much less knew that they would often gallivant in the woods behind the country-side establishment.
And to a certain Chase Davenport and Jack Brewer, the woods were a far better improvement than the stuffed building full of moody hard-heads—and the kids weren’t much better. Perhaps there would have been an outcry to learn of the less-than-ideal conditions the children at Sixth Street lived in, but frankly, it was common; in a world as run down and weary as the one they lived in, orphanages were rampant and full. Not to mention, the American government could hardly afford to upkeep all of them—and that was after the Great Merge with Canada and Mexico. A nuclear war tended to do a number on the political map.
But Chase and Jack were resigned to that; you didn’t tend to have a wonderful outlook on life when you were alone in a world like this. Not that either of the boys cared that much. No, they were content sitting on a hodge-podge platform built in a large oak tree playing old games that they commandeered from the orphanage. After six years, you learned how to make do—and at least they had each other as friends.
“God, Chase, I really hate you sometimes,” Jack grumbled as he flicked his makeshift king—an acorn—off of the board. The little nut bounced away and fell to the bottom of the tree. Chase watched it fall dryly.
“Seriously?” Chase gestured to the fallen acorn. “We were using that!”
“Oh, so the big-brained nerd doesn’t want to go get his acorn? You know, why do I get the acorn, and you get the real king piece? I feel this is just a, I don’t know, an omen of my failure or something.” Jack crossed his arms and settled himself into the tree, showing his grumpiness.
“Come on, Jack, it doesn’t matter—besides, I won last time,” Chase pointed out.
Jack huffed. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re a genius, dude. I don’t even know why I agreed to this.”
Chase jabbed him with an elbow. “’Cause you love me. Now how about you go get the acorn. I liked that acorn.”
With a dramatic eye roll, Jack sighed. “Fiiinne.” Jack slowly got up, grudgingly… and then proceeded to literally backflip out of the tree and land in a tight roll.
Chase shook his head with a fond smile. “What were you saying again, showoff?” he teased.
Jack picked up the acorn and promptly threw it at Chase’s head. Satisfied with the younger brunette’s unsophisticated yelp as it hit him in the forehead, Jack nimbly re-climbed the tree, giving a mock bow at the top. “You’re just jealous, Brainy.”
“Remind me again who won—? Hey!” Chase narrowly dodged a flying chess piece, hearing the wood whistle past his ear. “What was that for?!”
“For being a smart-aleck.” Jack tilted his head with a pout. “Ya’ know—sometimes your reflexes are really annoying.”
The brunette sighed, rubbing a hand through his short messy hair. “Well, I’m sorry I can hear it coming…” he grumbled morosely.
Jack immediately dialed back, eyeing the younger boy. It was a sore spot for him, his… enhancements. It was Jack’s job to make him feel better about it—it wasn’t Chase’s fault that he was some… Bionic cyborg or whatever. (Yeah, no, Jack knew that wasn’t it.) It was complicated. Truthfully, from what he had told Jack, it was meant to save his life. Chase was born with severe mental disabilities and setbacks, and wasn’t even predicted to live; his father, a brilliant yet unsuccessful scientist by the name of Donald Davenport, implanted him with ‘bionics’ to save his life and reverse any disabilities. And it worked, too. But now Chase had, like, crazy good senses. So good Jack knew it drove the younger teen nuts—because it wasn’t like he was good at controlling his range of hearing or anything. Jack did have to admit that hearing Milton have stomach pains in the bathroom in the middle of the night must suck terribly.
Chase tilted his head, distracted. “Rapunzel’s coming,” he announced suddenly. Jack smiled: that freaky little skill Jack would call a ‘benefit.’
Sure enough, a few minutes later, a petite blonde teenage girl approached their treehouse. Rapunzel was an anomaly. A couple of months ago, they had stumbled upon her in the woods, learning that the girl lived there… all alone. With only her mother. (A terribly over-protective mother at that.) It was there that Chase, Jack, and Rapunzel found common ground: neither had any friends. (Except for Chase’s and Jack’s own.) Ever since then she would visit from time to time in secret. Jack found her attachment a little creepy, personally, but she brought the best food.
“Hey Blondie!” Jack greeted cheekily. Rapunzel, in turn, scowled a bit—the nickname was not her favorite. Even then, Rapunzel did not look threatening. She stood at about five feet, four inches, which was three inches shorter than Jack himself—and only a scant inch below Chase. Her frame was rather thin, with a round lightly freckled face and giant emerald eyes. And yes, it was hard to take her anger seriously when it was placed on such an adorable face. But that wasn’t her most interesting feature. No, the fifteen year old girl had long, silky, golden hair—thick and luscious—that fell to her hips. Apparently, she didn’t have scissors in that little wooden cabin of hers.
She rolled her eyes, and lifted up a picnic basket. “I brought sandwiches!” she greeted, her voice as bubbly as always.
Chase smiled. “Come on up!” He reached down to take the basket from her hands, while she nimbly climbed up, despite her lavender leggings and sandals. She was a surprisingly good climber.
“Hey guys,” she smiled. Rapunzel settled herself into a crossed legged position, flipping her ridiculously long hair behind her. “What’s up?”
“Oh, you know, the usual: sleeping with a bunch of hormonal dudes, eating mush, beating Jack at chess…” Chase droned—even when Jack elbowed him in retribution. “You should know this by now, Sunshine—our life isn’t interesting.”
She sighed, twirling a strand of golden hair in her fingers. “Mine neither, I suppose…” she admitted. Then, Rapunzel visibly brightened (that was one of the reasons Chase insisted on calling her ‘Sunshine’) and pushed away any morose thoughts. “But it’s always nice to ask anyways!” Ah, Rapunzel: always the polite one.
A little bit of movement caught Jack’s eye, and a bit of green crawled onto Rapunzel’s shoulder. The creature moved forward, and set its stare at Jack. He shivered.
“Your frog is being creepy again,” Jack complained. In response, Rapunzel’s pet stuck its tongue out at Jack, almost as if the little stinker was bugging him on purpose!
Rapunzel rolled her eyes. “I told you, he’s a chameleon,” she corrected, while petting Pascal, who smiled contently. “And he’s just fine.” The chameleon was always by Rapunzel’s side; whether perched on her shoulder or riding on her head—or another body part—he was always there. Jack found it weird and highly disturbing. Where did one get a pet like that anyways?
Jack made a face. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t like me…” he muttered. If Rapunzel heard him, she ignored him.
“Anyways…” Rapunzel diverted the subject as she dug through her hand-crafted basket. “I have a PB&J and a turkey and cheese.” She waved the sandwiches in the boys’ faces. “Who wants what?”
Jack snatched the turkey and cheese before Chase could move. “’anks ‘ond’ee” Jack thanked, his mouth full of food.
Chase took the remaining sandwich far more calmly. “Seriously, Rapunzel, you’re the best.” The fact that she was a wonderful cook notwithstanding, anything was better than the half-frozen mush they called food back at the Home. Not that he was able to eat it anyways; generally, Trent delighted in taking his food and dumping a pudding cup on his head.
Rapunzel smiled, and took out a sandwich for herself. Jack vaguely wondered how she was able to get away with bringing food out here and disappearing occasionally; hearing about Rapunzel’s mom, he doubted that she would be pleased with Rapunzel meeting with two strange orphans in the middle of the woods. Oh well.
They sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes while Jack and Chase enjoyed real food; eventually, Rapunzel—ever the talkative type—broke it. “So…” she drawled. “How long have you two been here?”
The question startled Jack in its suddenness, and he nearly choked on a bite. Sure, they had met a few times before, and Rapunzel sure did ask a lot of questions, but she learned early on that neither of the boys were willing to share much about their pasts. It was always more comfortable finding another subject between the three of them, or simply playing card games. It was an odd relationship, they had with the forest-dwelling-girl. But apparently, Rapunzel wasn’t ready to stop prodding, which was annoying despite her well-meaning.
“A while,” Chase answered vaguely, much to Rapunzel’s chagrin. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.
“Come on, just answer my question for once?” she pleaded. Jack guessed even the ever-cheery girl could get annoyed with their aloofness. Well, she was the one who kept finding them; it wasn’t any obligation on their part. At least, this is what Jack told himself. Truthfully, he found Rapunzel’s presence refreshing. (Maybe that was because he hadn’t been around a girl his age in about five years.)
Chase rolled his eyes, but looked thoughtful. Jack caught his blue eyes and tilted his head in question; Chase stared back, uncertain; Jack shrugged. Finally, the younger boy sighed. “Six years. It’s been a while,” he answered. Rapunzel seemed surprised he chose to answer, and was struggling to balance the accomplishment and horror of the answer itself.
“Six?” Rapunzel swallowed thickly. “But- You’re only fourteen…”
Chase remained visibly unaffected, though Jack could tell that stormy look had entered his eyes. Jack shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey, it’s alright, it’s no big deal. Really.”
Rapunzel opened her mouth for a retort, but suddenly, Chase grew rigid and silenced her with a hand. She muffled in protest, but Chase was vigilantly ignoring her, his gaze fixed onto the woods.
Jack’s inner alarm bells began to ring. Yeah, Chase would often hear things far away, but it certainly wasn’t often that he looked so… frightened about it. He was as tense as a bowstring, and possessed the countenance of a deer that sensed a wolf. Jack’s imagination ran wild with all of the things Chase could be hearing: orphanage officials off to drag them away, hoodlums ready to take them as easy pickings, some dangerous animal that was hungry for human flesh. (Okay, he was probably over-reacting.)
So instead, Jack attempted to play it off as something simple, which it probably was. “W-what is it, Lassie? Timmy stuck in a well?”
He expected Chase to glare and roll his eyes with his ever-present and ever-familiar annoyance, but Chase didn’t lose that panicked look in his eye. “Be quiet!” he hissed lowly, desperate. Something was really freaking him out. Chase had loosened his hold on Rapunzel, uncovering her mouth, and she looked increasingly worried.
“I-I don’t u-understand,” she whimpered quietly. “What’s w-wrong?”
Chase continued to stare off into the distance, senses fixated on something that horrified him. Jack felt just as nervous as Rapunzel. Chase getting like this was the equivalent of a dog barking at the unknown; it could be nothing, but most of the time, it was definitely something. He really wished Rapunzel wasn’t here—then, maybe, he could question Chase more openly. But he would have to settle for subtly.
Jack stared Chase in the eye, wishing desperately to convey his unease. Chase returned the gaze, but his eyes flitted back to the woods. “Something’s coming,” he whispered timorously. Jack was really starting to get annoyed. If Chase didn’t start giving him real answers, or if this was another stray cat fight, he just might consider pushing the guy out of the tree.
Instead, Jack began to hear it too. Chase scrambled backwards, hands clamped over his ears as his breathing turned erratic. Jack understood immediately; the noise was worse than a mere rustling: there was a sound like a burning motor coupled with crushing leaves, all intensified to a mounting chaotic clamor. And to Chase, whose senses were currently heightened, that must have sounded like a blender in his ear. Rapunzel lifted her head, watching the distance warily.
“That’s a….bear….right?” she squeaked. Were Jack not slightly terrified himself, he would have sighed; of course the girl that lived in the woods wouldn’t actually know that there were no bears around these parts—and if there were, they wouldn’t sound like that. Granted, it was obvious she didn’t get out much. But that wasn’t important right now. Jack focused on the sound, getting closer, and fought the irrational side of his brain that wanted to run and hide. It was probably nothing; so he shouldn’t be scared like some child!
There was a crash, and the next thing he knew, Jack was three feet farther backwards. Chase was staring at him, wide-eyed, and wordlessly the two boys crept closer. A figure burst out from the brush, tall and wild. Jack hardly had the time to acknowledge the lurch over a cliff that his heart took before a jeep came crashing through next.
Any illusions that Jack had sustained that undermined the situation leapt after his heart once he truly laid eyes on the scene before him. A woman—tall and full-bodied like an Amazon—crouched low like a panther in front of the jeep, its occupants training guns on her. The woman was by no mean a damsel, however: her garments were torn and bloody, her silver armor scuffed. Her white hair, tangled, fell around her without order, and her muscles were fit and ready for battle. A wickedly curved blade in the pole of a spear was gripped at her side. The two in the jeep appeared just as rough. A man, behind the wheel, appeared to possess a body chiseled from stone, his jaw square and scarred. He had short gray hair, with dark bloodshot eyes that appeared small next to his strong nose; sweat coated his face and he had a vice grip on the steering wheel. His passenger was a woman, her appearance harried yet she was wearing a murderous scowl. Her blonde hair was swept behind her in a braid, tussled, and her lips were the color of blood. She carried a really big gun, finger hovering over the trigger as the warrior woman in front of the vehicle growled.
Jack was enamored by the scene, petrified by the pure shock of it all. Chase and Rapunzel were similarly frozen beside him, on either side. The blonde woman moved her dark eyes upwards, landing on the teens in the tree. The woman snapped her eyes back to the other woman, cornered and angry, but not before jabbing her partner with her elbows. “Kill the witnesses!” she hissed.
The man followed her previous gaze with malicious eyes, hardened past compassion, yet he allowed himself a grin as he pulled his gun upwards. “With pleasure.”
Two gunshots rang out nearly simultaneously. Each one split Chase’s ear like an ax. He threw himself to the side, pushing Rapunzel the other direction to get them both to safety and the proper momentum to do so. His brains rattled, both with the terrible screeching of the bullets slicing air and splintering the tree behind them and with the terror that consumed him. They were being shot at—no one could tell him not to be terrified.
But he had missed them, and that brought a glimmer of reprieve to his racing heart. There was an inhuman screech below him, and Chase was able to peer over the side just enough to see the white-haired woman launch herself at the other. Two more shots were fired sporadically, and his head absolutely ached. But that wasn’t important right now.
“We gotta’ get out of here,” he whispered urgently. Jack stared at him dumbly for a couple of seconds, too freaked out to comprehend his words, but luckily he snapped out of it.
“R-right,” Jack agreed. “How?!”
Chase gulped. There was a knot in his stomach kicking him, his ears was ringing, and he thinks his bladder hates him—but there shall be no speaking of that. He risked another glance down: now, the man and the white-haired woman were grappling, and the blonde woman was… Oh no.
Panic flared as the woman approached the tree, barrel of her gun trained upwards when she wasn’t glaring at the other woman. Chase scurried backwards, nearly trampling Rapunzel. “Climb down the back!” he urged.
Rapunzel stared at him with wide green eyes filled with horror. “What?!” she nearly screeched. “You want to go down there?!”
Chase made a sound that was something between a strangled scream and a groan. “I don’t know! She’s coming up here with a gun! At least down there we can run!” Now, he had absolutely no clue where they could run to, but his adrenaline wasn’t stopping to ask any questions.
“Sounds like a p-plan,” Jack conceded. “Less chance of dying.” He went to grab something, and Chase nearly screamed at him for stopping to get sentimental. But before he got the chance, Jack pulled out a smooth wooden bo staff. The one that his grandfather had given to him.
“A stick? Really?” Rapunzel squeaked. She glanced back towards the ground, where the woman trained her pistol upwards. Chase heard the round click into place.
“Whatever, just go!” Chase shoved Jack out of the tree (gratefully, the older brunette was used to this) and nearly dragged Rapunzel after him. Several shots fired into space in which they had been sitting mere seconds after they vacated.
He landed right next to Jack, hearing his heart beat even louder now that they were closer to the weaponized strangers. He froze, hearing dull thuds that either belonged to his heart or the punches that were being thrown; Jack grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of his petrified stupor before the scary blonde caught up. “Come on!” the eldest cried urgently.
The three took off at a dead run, but it only lasted all of four seconds before Chase tripped over a tree root and fell on his face. The woman was on top of them quickly, snarling as she aimed. In a moment of panic, Chase scrambled from his position on the ground and kicked her in the shin.
“You little shi—!” Her growl was cut short when Jack promptly swung his bo staff straight into her arm pit, her outstretched arms to her disadvantage. At this, because apparently being hit by children upset her greatly, the woman snarled even louder. Rapunzel had helped Chase off of the ground, and the three bolted past the woman, Jack jabbing his staff into her back. Ideally, they shouldn’t run toward the danger but doubling back had been the best way to lose the lady at the time. Though she turned around really fast.
Chase screamed when the woman fired at them, the shots gratefully thrown in her anger so they ended up peppering the inanimate woods instead of them. However, in their haste to run from the gun-wielding madwoman, they run into the gun-wielding madman and the jungle woman he fought. The two paused in their struggle, eyes trained on the three vastly unlucky bystanders. The man narrowed his small dark eyes in frustration, and the woman stared with feral blue orbs; Chase didn’t know which was worse. To avoid colliding with the deadly duo of rivals, Chase skidded to a halt behind Jack, Rapunzel swerving to follow their example.
“Sinclair!” the man barked. “Deal with the pesky brats!”
The blonde woman—Sinclair—growled in return. “I am!” she shouted. With a snarl, she charged them. Someone squealed—it was either Rapunzel’s lizard or Jack—and Sinclair grabbed a hold of Rapunzel’s wrist. She twisted her arm behind her back, eliciting a scream from Rapunzel. Panicked, Chase took Rapunzel’s other arm and kicked at the woman in order to wrench his friend free. Sinclair stumbled backwards but swung a pistol towards his head in stride. Before Chase so much as had time to scream, Jack came flying in from the side. He barreled into the woman and struck her side with a lucky well-aimed jab. Who knew that having a grandfather as a karate sensei would really come in handy? Jack flipped Sinclair, throwing her to the side and yanking the gun from her grasp. The woman fell right on her partner, allowing the white haired woman to free herself from their tussle.
The crazy jungle lady—clad in tribal-looking soiled clothing with a strange marking adorning her cheek—stared at them in a mixture of dread and gratitude. Before anybody had the chance to do anything, the man cocked his own pistol back and fired. The teens screamed as the bullet whistled past them, but Chase was on the ground, a very pale Rapunzel underneath him, before he knew it. The white-haired woman hovered above them, panting slightly. She shouted something at them urgently, but it wasn’t in English (or Spanish or German), so the words were lost on him. But not the tone, gratefully.
Chase scrambled up, Rapunzel after them, and Jack was pushing him faster within the next heartbeat. “Come on! We can lose them in the creek!” he whispered urgently. Jack nodded, knowing what he was talking about—since he was the one to discover it. He and Jack had stumbled upon this wide creek a few years back, which ran down a mini ravine. Mini compared to rivers, but large enough to prove a problem for the inexperienced and jeeps. (Which was to say, yes, Chase had fallen in many times before—Jack too.) Hopefully Rapunzel would follow their lead.
An engine revved behind them, filling Chase with dread. The sound of their panicked footsteps crashing through the forest were drowned by the oncoming vehicle. “Get them!” a voice hissed. Chase stole a glance backwards to see the hideous green open-air vehicle pursuing. When they took off, the crazy attackers must have hopped in their vehicle to ensure victory. But why were they chasing them?! The white-haired woman ran near them, in the same direction, occupied in her own flight. Why were they chasing her, anyways? Chase felt very small, and very confused, in this sudden stroke of terrible circumstance.
Suddenly, gunshots peppered the forest around them. Rapunzel screamed—Jack too—but Chase could hardly register anything as hot pain sliced his arm before he was roughly pushed to the side. The white-haired woman appeared beside him, yanking him along swiftly. Black spots danced across his eyes, and the dying echoes of his scream reverberated faintly in his pounding ears. God that hurt. I just got shot, he numbly realized. Any pain Chase had thought he felt paled now in comparison to the constant throbbing and burning sensation in his upper arm. He gasped as his woman and strange savior hefted him back to his feet before he knew he stumbled. Chase met her wildly bright blue eyes, ripe with concern. Concern? What happened?
You got shot.
The realization hurt as much as the wound, but the woman kept him going. Chase blinked his eyes rapidly, his head pounding. The creek was coming up, he could see it barely through the haze of pain that clouded him. The burning sensation didn’t stop; he felt light-headed. Sinking in the throbbing that overtook his nerves, filling his body.
“Chase!” Jack screamed. Chase squinted, stumbling. Jack was by his side now, too, brown eyes panicked. “We have to jump!” Jack’s voice was shaking. Jump? Jump what?
He blinked again. The creek. Crap. He was still running, amazingly, mostly dragged by the tall Amazonian lady. Chase ground his teeth, following Jack as they ran for the edge. He knew where the vine was—their only way to safety—but he couldn’t see it. All his senses could register was pain, fear, and the thrumming of the engine behind them.
Gravity tugged at his body, dragging Chase down. He screamed, but a hand caught his wrist and Chase fumbled with the vine with his injured arm, feeling pain sear through him, numbed only by adrenaline. They swung through the air, fear eradicating the thrill of flying over the dancing water. Chase hit the ground heavily, rolling to the side. Rapunzel grabbed his arm, saying something, but he was transfixed on the sight before him. The woman leapt like a panther, clearing the chasm without aid like it was a mere crack in the ground. The jeep, on the other hand, jerked upwards after hitting a thick root, and crashed into the side of the cliff, shaking the ground beneath them.
“—et up!” Chase focused on the voice late, but obeyed nonetheless. Rapunzel had tears streaming down her face silently, propelled by fright and terror. Chase got up, and he ran.
He wasn’t aware how long they ran, and honestly, there were times he thought he blacked out altogether; but his feet carried onwards dully and quickly, until his entire body numbed with exhaustion. Chase found a tree, and leaned heavily against it.
“God, you’re bleeding!” Jack appeared in front of him, his eyes wide and voice shaking.
“’M fine…” Chase mumbled, weakly trying shake Jack off. Why was he bleeding? He wasn’t bleeding. He was just tired… A firm hand latched onto his wrist, and his arm flared up in pain. Chase cried out involuntarily, and the pressure immediately released. Jack was still above him, looking pale. There were more voices, but Chase couldn’t focus on any of them: they were all so loud yet everything was so quiet—like his ears were stuffed with cotton while on overdrive. Suddenly, there was pressure—a hand—on his arm, but it only felt warm. Chase slowly opened his eyes to a blue glow, and the mysterious woman in front of him.
“All is well,” she said, her voice strong and smooth. Huh, he didn’t think she spoke English… Oh well. That was the last thing he remembered before Chase drifted off to unconsciousness.
5:16 p.m.
It had been a long time since Jack had known panic. As in, true panic—fear inducing, life-rattling, unholy panic. But that record had promptly ended that day.
Witnessing crazy criminals or bounty hunters or something was bad enough; being chased and shot at by them was worse. In fact, Jack didn’t think it could get worse until Chase got shot. Now, a lot of screaming and panic later, Jack realized that it was only a graze to the arm, nothing major. At least, nothing major in terms of bullet wounds. But Jack considered any bullet wound to be a major thing. And Jack had never seen that much blood exit his best friend before. Needless to say, Jack was a little shaken up.
“Jack!” A sharp sting to the cheek drew Jack out of his stupor. Rapunzel was in front of him, cheeks red and stained with tears, and she was shaking. A choked sob left her throat. “Y-you weren’t responding, a-a-and Chase i-is still u-unconscious, a-and I’m s-sorry—”
“Hey, c-calm down,” Jack placated, though the action was undermined by his own tremoring voice. Had he really spaced out? Was that a symptom of shock? All Chase questions, and Chase couldn’t even answer them! He ran his fingers through his scalp, gripping at his hair like a lifeline. He stole another glance at Chase.
The younger teen was leaned against a tree, rather unceremoniously, breathing evenly. After running for what felt like an hour, half-dragging Chase the majority of the way, they finally stopped, assuming their pursuers far behind. Still, Jack feared they were still upon them, waiting to prey on their vulnerability. But they had to stop; Chase couldn’t keep going, literally, and Jack could hardly stay awake himself; Rapunzel was worse, practically dead on her feet.
Jack tried not to pay attention to all of the blood that was staining Chase’s t-shirt, but Jack took comfort in noticing that the bleeding had ceased. And that was another cause of shock. Jack should be immensely grateful, and he was, but witnessing a weird lady press a glowing rock to his friend’s skin and closing the majority of a wound was freaky. Really freaky. If Jack had been in a better state of mind, he would have quizzed her about it, but that was hardly the first thing on his mind right now.
Chase stirred slightly, catching his attention. Jack leaned forward, keen on his friend’s movements, as the younger brunette finally re-entered wakefulness.
“Wha—What happened…?” he asked drowsily, still discombobulated.
“How are you feeling?” Rapunzel asked quickly, kneeling beside him. Chase blinked owlishly, his confusion still evident.
“Feeling…?” he repeated slowly. “Why—?”
“You got shot, you idiot!” Jack answered with no lack of emotion in his voice, despite the words.
Jack could see the memory dawn in Chase’s blue eyes mere moments afterward. Chase hastily scrambled in his position to gaze upon his arm, which was content now with being an angry scar—which was a few steps above an open wound. “What the—” Chase stammered in surprise. “How long was I asleep?”
Jack almost brought it to himself to be amused with the irrational fear of unconsciousness Chase possessed, but it wasn’t the right time. Instead, Jack passively jerked a thumb in the woman’s direction. “Miss Magic Lady over there healed you with a glowing rock,” he deadpanned, already passed his initial shock but not quite at any sliver of understanding yet.
This time, Jack did find some amusement in the immediate furrowing of Chase’s brows. “That’s not possible,” the boy laughed nervously, though adamant. Ah, Chase: always the scientific one. “What really happened?”
The woman herself answered before Jack could repeat himself. She moved forward, softly, whilst fingering a small blue crystal hanging about her neck. “No, your friend speaks truth,” she answered. “I used the power of my homeland to close your wound.”
“And you would like to share how you did that light show, right?” Jack cut in, impatient. He knew Chase would ask the same thing, even in his frazzled state, and Jack was more than willing to help him out by demanding answers.
“Who are you, anyway?” Rapunzel added. Her brow was furrowed into a hard line, her mouth set similarly.
The woman sighed. “I am Kidagakash Nedakh,” she answered. “And I healed him with this—” She held the crystal that swung about her neck up for the teens to see. “It possesses a fraction of the power of Atlantis, my home.” Her voice broke slightly—miserably—at the last part, Kidagakash’s eyes averting downward.
“Atlantis?” Jack repeated. “That place isn’t real.”
Rapunzel appeared interested. “I have read many theories about Atlantis, but no one has ever proven to be there…”
“Well, it is no longer,” the woman replied heavily, if a little curtly.
“Whoa, wait,” Chase interjected. “So, let’s say this place is real, why are you here and how did you close human flesh with a rock?”
The Atlantean furrowed her brow. “I am afraid I cannot do well to explain the Crystal’s power in terms you want to hear. It is—was—the heart of Atlantis. It was a part of us, and us a part of it; it protected us, and we protected it. That protection has always included the art of healing, though I will admit, I wasn’t sure if it would work on you.”
Jack was speechless. Sure, guys with guns were one thing, but mystical Atlanteans with magic healing rocks? That was another thing entirely. One would even say it was impossible. But as Jack looked over Chase—his bionic best friend with the instantly closed wound—Jack was more willing to believe it. (Rapunzel, on the other hand, was still gaping.) Yet still, Jack found the concept fantastical. “How come Atlantis isn’t on Travel Zoo or something? Or the number one tourist destination?” Jack asked dryly.
Chase appeared thoughtful. “If a place like Atlantis did exist, wouldn’t we hear about it?” Well, that was the boring way to question her.
Regardless, the woman grew frustrated, though there was a hint of weariness in her mannerisms—a hopelessness of sorts. “Atlantis was hidden away, safe, where humans could not interfere nor take what is not theirs.” Jack detected some venom in her voice; as a human, Jack pondered whether or not he should be offended.
“Yep. Humans suck alright,” Chase agreed in a low, dry voice. Okay, they did have a point.
“So Kidakapa- Er, Kidagoke- Kida—can I call you Kida?—how exactly did you magical city get plundered if it was hidden away?” Jack probed. Even if he would agree that maybe Atlantis was real, Jack wasn’t ready to give in yet; there were a lot crazies out there.
Kida narrowed her crystal blue eyes at him. “These humans, they were mad! How they stumbled upon my people, I don’t know, but they were savage! Tearing down everything in their sight. And their forces… their forces could not be stopped by our own.” She gave Jack a keen stare, inspecting him. “Since when did you humans become so advanced?”
Chase cut in before Jack could say something that he would undoubtedly believe was stupid, but Jack supposed that might be a good thing. “What kind of weapons did they have?” he asked instead of answering.
“They… could make a building implode with a press of button. Green and red lights sliced through our defenses like it was water, they had vehicles much faster than the one that you defeated, and projectiles that killed hundreds with small stones,” she tried to describe, eyes glazing over at reliving the horror of the attack.
“Okay, uh,” Chase fumbled for words. “That sounds freaky.” Jack agreed; green and red lights? What was that? Star Wars?!
“Why were those guys chasing you anyways?” Rapunzel asked, her voice soft in sympathy.
Kida’s eyes darkened. “They and their people wished to wipe Atlantis from the Earth. I—I cannot say what exactly happened, but when I emerged from the rubble there was nowhere to go but to run.” She said this bitterly, as if the act of running was a terrible deed. “They were not satisfied with survivors, and pursued me ever since.”
“Who would do something like that?” Rapunzel breathed, horrified and incredulous.
“I cannot say that I know, but…” Kida worried her lip, in thought. “They said… When they came, they… called themselves a—a dragon.”
Jack arched a brow. Okay, first it was Atlantis, and now it was dragons. If it was anyone other than a tall woman bearing a magic rock telling him this, he might’ve laughed. But considering that that was the case, and they had been chased moments prior, Jack didn’t feel up to mentally arguing the concept; he was always one to give the benefit of the doubt anyways.
However, despite the odd and pregnant pause that followed the statement, no one said anything. No one had the chance, for it was then that Chase tensed.
“I hear something—voices, I think,” Chase hissed. He had that glossy-eyed look he got when he was hearing things—really far things. He was concentrating. And Jack had every single reason to believe him.
“Come on, let’s go.” It was fight or flight, and Jack really didn’t want to put that ‘fighting’ aspect up to the test. Not if they were armed.
“But—” Rapunzel’s rebut died on her lips, confusion and uncertainty in her eyes. Jack had already picked up, helping Chase up to his feet. Kida, appearing to be straining her own senses, followed suit.
In quiet unity, the four of them swiftly left the sight.