The ruins of Atlantis disappeared behind them.
Thalor glanced over his shoulder one final time.
The shattered valley rested in darkness once more.
Only a handful of runes remained illuminated.
A dying civilization waiting for its last chance.
The sight left an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.
He ignored it.
For now.
Freedom came first.
Atlantis could wait.
The ocean currents carried him away from the ruins.
Beside him drifted Arcadia.
Her form of water and light moved effortlessly through the sea.
Not swimming.
Simply existing.
As though the ocean itself parted for her.
The trident rested across Thalor's back.
He still wasn't entirely comfortable carrying it.
The thing seemed determined to make itself his responsibility.
He wasn't convinced the feeling was mutual.
Several hours passed in silence.
Then Arcadia spoke.
"Your technique is inefficient."
Thalor groaned.
"There it is."
"There, what is?"
"The lesson."
Arcadia tilted her head.
"What lesson?"
"The one you've clearly been waiting to give."
She considered the accusation.
"...Accurate."
"I knew it."
The Atlantean construct ignored him.
"Current swimming efficiency is approximately thirty-two percent."
Thalor nearly swallowed seawater.
"Thirty-two?"
"Correct."
"That sounds made up."
"It is not."
"How would you even know that?"
Arcadia extended a finger.
A projection appeared beside them.
To Thalor's horror, it was him.
Swimming.
Poorly.
The illusion highlighted dozens of movements in red.
Arm positioning.
Body angle.
Mana leakage.
Tail movement.
Breathing rhythm.
Everything.
Thalor stared.
"Are you judging my swimming?"
"Yes."
"I'm a merfolk."
"Partially."
His eye twitched.
Arcadia continued mercilessly.
"You compensate for poor hydrodynamic posture through brute force."
"I escaped slavery yesterday."
"An explanation."
The projection rotated.
"Not an excuse."
Thalor considered throwing a rock at her.
Unfortunately, they were underwater.
Finding a rock would require effort.
Arcadia immediately began her lecture.
"Atlanteans evolved to function on both land and sea."
The projection changed.
A new figure appeared.
Tall.
Graceful.
Effortless.
The figure moved through the water like a living current.
Every motion flowed into the next.
No wasted movement.
No resistance.
No strain.
Thalor immediately hated it.
"Show off."
"It is a training construct."
"Still."
Arcadia pointed.
"Observe."
The figure accelerated.
The surrounding water seemed to embrace it.
Instead of fighting the ocean, it moved with it.
Like part of it.
The difference was staggering.
Thalor frowned.
"That's water magic."
"Partially."
Arcadia's eyes brightened.
"It is physiology."
That caught his attention.
"Physiology?"
"Your body possesses dormant Atlantean traits."
The trident pulsed softly.
Agreement.
Arcadia continued.
"Your merfolk lineage grants natural adaptation to aquatic environments."
"Your human lineage grants adaptability."
"The Atlantean lineage grants optimization."
The projection shifted again.
This time, it displayed Thalor himself.
Highlighted in glowing blue.
Organs.
Muscles.
Mana channels.
Structures he had never known existed.
"Your body is attempting to use abilities it has not yet developed."
He stared.
"That's possible?"
"Very."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Moderately."
Thalor sighed.
Of course it was.
Everything involving Atlantis seemed dangerous.
The next three hours were miserable.
Arcadia corrected everything.
Everything.
His posture.
His strokes.
His mana circulation.
His breathing.
His turning speed.
His acceleration.
At one point, she spent twenty minutes correcting the angle of his shoulders.
Twenty minutes.
Thalor briefly considered swimming away.
Unfortunately, she was right.
The improvements were immediate.
His movements became smoother.
Faster.
Less exhausting.
The ocean stopped feeling like something he had to push against.
Instead, it felt...
Natural.
Comfortable.
Familiar.
Almost welcoming.
For the first time in his life, he understood why merfolk loved the sea.
The realization surprised him.
His captors had spent years convincing him he belonged nowhere.
Not on land.
Not in the ocean.
Not among humans.
Not among merfolk.
Just another half-breed.
Another slave.
Yet here, beneath the waves, he felt something strange.
Belonging.
The feeling frightened him.
After a day into the journey, Arcadia introduced mana manipulation.
That proved even worse.
"Again."
Thalor glared.
"I did it."
"Incorrect."
"I definitely did it."
"You generated turbulence."
"I moved faster."
"You created a wake large enough to alert predators."
Thalor frowned.
"That seems useful."
"It is not."
The projection reappeared.
Again.
He was beginning to hate projections.
Arcadia highlighted the water surrounding him.
"Water mana should reduce resistance."
She highlighted another section.
"You are instead attempting to overpower resistance."
Thalor stared.
"...Is there a difference?"
Arcadia looked genuinely horrified.
"There is an enormous difference."
Hours became days.
Days became routine.
For the first time in his life, Thalor learned.
Not commands.
Not punishments.
Not survival.
Actual learning.
Questions were encouraged.
Mistakes were expected.
Failure wasn't punished.
It was analyzed.
Improved.
Documented.
The experience felt completely foreign.
One evening, after another lesson, Thalor finally asked:
"Why?"
Arcadia blinked.
"Clarify."
"Why teach me all this?"
The question lingered between them.
Arcadia looked toward the distant ocean.
Toward Atlantis.
Toward a civilization long dead.
When she spoke, her voice sounded softer than usual.
"Because this is how Atlantis survived."
Thalor waited.
She continued.
"Not through power."
"Not through armies."
"Not through magic."
Her sapphire eyes met his.
"Through education."
The words settled heavily within him.
For some reason, they felt important.
Three days after leaving Atlantis, they reached the island.
Or rather...
What should have taken three days.
Instead, thanks to Arcadia's relentless instruction, they arrived in less than half the projected time.
The island rose from the horizon.
Small.
Remote.
Forgotten.
Nothing more than a patch of land surrounded by endless ocean.
Yet beneath it...
Thalor could feel something.
A pulse.
Ancient.
Powerful.
Alive.
The trident vibrated softly.
Arcadia smiled.
"The relay station has been located."
For the first time since Atlantis had chosen him...
Thalor felt genuinely curious about what came next.
And far below the island...
Ancient Atlantean machinery began to awaken.