Milo's throat felt dry as he stood under the heavy gaze of King Kashekim Nedakh. His hands were slightly shaking despite his attempt to appear composed. The sheer presence of King Kashekim was enough to rob him of breath—the old ruler held his head high with that otherworldly calm that came only with immense age and the burden of mistakes that shaped centuries.
Kida stood to one side, her posture tense, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach for her spear. The guards flanking the chamber gripped their weapons tighter, though their faces were unreadable behind ornate masks.
Milo forced a thin, nervous smile. "Y-your Majesty," he began, clutching his hat like it might shield him from the weight of those eyes. "We, uh… we're a group of travelers, historians really, who go from place to place collecting stories. Cultures. Artifacts. We share what we've learned with others in return. Knowledge, you know? Preserving the past to inform the future…"
His voice wavered slightly as he glanced back at Rourke and the others, whose expressions remained unreadable. Kida stood to his right, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Kashekim's wrinkled hands folded over the crystal-tipped staff resting in his lap. The stillness stretched until Milo felt like he was about to collapse under the pressure. "And you wish to preserve us by trespassing into our home, uninvited, bearing weapons and secrecy?" the King asked, not unkindly, but sharply.
Milo swallowed hard. "Well, no, sir, we—we didn't come here seeking to steal any treasure or conquest. We're here because the history of your people deserves to be remembered. We want to learn from you, not take from you. There was no intention of violence."
Kashekim tilted his head slightly, his sightless gaze fixed on Milo in a way that felt uncomfortably direct. "Intentions are the realm of the mind, and words are like reeds in the wind. They sway easily, but their roots may not hold. Actions are what reach the heart."
The silence that followed was tense. Kashekim turned his veiled gaze toward Rourke next.
"And you, Commander? You lead this group?"
Rourke stepped forward smoothly, hands clasped behind his back. "Your Majesty, if I may—our young translator is right. Milo here's a brilliant linguist, but not the best at explaining things. We're here under peaceful intentions—curiosity. We've come in peace. A coincidence, really, that we stumbled upon your beautiful city. I assure you, my men and I are nothing but explorers and scholars under Mr. Thatch's guidance. I give you my word."
Kashekim's lips pressed into a thin line. "Coincidences…" He leaned forward slightly, the glow of his crystal staff flaring faintly. "You carry many lies, Commander. But lies weigh down the tongue. Sooner or later, it falters under the burden."
The silence that followed was heavier than any accusation. Rourke's smile didn't slip, but there was a hard glint in his eyes. "I assure you, I speak plainly."
"Your Majesty," Milo said quickly, trying to defuse the rising tension, "I can vouch for their intentions. We don't mean any harm. Please—give us a chance to prove it."
Kashekim didn't respond to him. Instead, he leaned slightly back in his throne, fingers steepled together.
"When the seas swallowed Atlantis, I learned a painful lesson: power draws covetous eyes. Since that day, I have watched many speak of peace while carving a path toward ruin."
Milo took a step forward. "But we're not like that! I've seen your city's beauty. Its history is a marvel—its people... you. There's so much we can learn. So much the world can learn."
"And what have you offered in return?" Kashekim asked.
Milo faltered. "O-ourselves? Our knowledge. Our friendship."
Kashekim looked toward Kida. Her lips pressed into a fine line, though her eyes still held a measure of hope.
"Kida," he gestured to Kida without turning his head. "Daughter. Bring over the other guests—the three outsiders we captured."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You mean the ones who were..."
"Yes," he said. "If these wanderers truly arrived by fate, not design, then perhaps the ones you took in will confirm it."
Milo blinked. "Other guests?"
Kashekim offered no answer.
Kida bowed slightly and turned to leave.
But before she could take more than a few steps, the King's voice followed her—lower now, heavy with something else entirely.
"Be careful, my daughter. Guests can become invaders if their hearts are stained in malice and darkness. We must ascertain if these people are threats."
Kida paused, then nodded silently and departed the throne room with quiet urgency.
Behind her, the King's throne chamber grew heavy with silence once more.
Moments later, the grand doors of the throne room creaked open again. Kida stepped in first, flanked by four guards escorting three more figures. Helios, Skuld, and Kurai walked forward in silence, their wrists bound in glowing cuffs as two guards held each of them on either side.
Helios, seeming entirely unbothered, let out a tired yawn, covering his mouth lazily with one hand. As they came to a stop before the King's throne, he smiled warmly despite the chains. "Greetings, Your Majesty," he said in an almost casual tone. "You have quite the large group gathered here. I take it that these are the ones who came to the city recently. Hello, it must have been difficult to reach here. I offer my greetings as fellow travelers."