Beneath the shimmering surface of the vast ocean, nestled amidst the gentle sway of aquatic flora, lies a hidden marvel - Atlantis. Once an ancient civilization thriving on the Earth's surface, it now flourishes beneath the ocean, its history veiled in mystique and wonder.
As the tectonic plates shifted eons ago, Atlantis almost faced total intinction.
But the ingenious minds of the Supernaturals, who stood at the helm of this wondrous society, prevented devastation.
Their advanced technology manifested in a protective barrier that enveloped their city, a transparent dome of energy resilient enough to withstand the immense pressures of the ocean depths.
Within this ethereal haven, a sprawling metropolis emerged, a place of innovation and imagination. Futuristic skyscrapers of glistening glass and bioluminescent stand tall, their shapes a harmonious blend of organic curves and sleek angles.
Mid air , flying vehicles zipped through the city with grace, their propulsion systems producing an almost silent hum.
Looking closely below, people moved with a unique grace that seemed to mirror the gentle currents of the ocean, even though the city itself wasn't submerged.
Their natural rhythm spoke of a deep connection with their surroundings. Their white eyes, akin to the soft glow of the moon, held an otherworldly charm, a testament to how they had evolved to perfectly fit into this extraordinary place.
The city's streets were wide, lined with arches resembling coral formations that seemed to shimmer in their own way.
People went about their daily lives in these avenues. The markets were particularly vibrant, showcasing a variety of marine wonders.
Pearls and shells caught the light, reflecting vivid colors that painted the scene. The city's pathways, crystal-clear and transparent, crisscrossed the landscape, serving as both routes for their mesmerizing hovering vehicles and channels for the bioluminescent energy that powered everything.
In Atlantis, life had a soothing harmony to it. The natural world and advanced technology blended effortlessly.
Outside the barrier, in the serene depths of the ocean, a scene of akin to a movie played out.
Submarines glided smoothly through the water, heading towards the gleaming barrier that enclosed Atlantis. These submersibles were the common folks' ticket into the submerged wonderland.
They proceeded to an entrance where thorough checks were conducted to verify their permits for entry. Atlantis was determined to maintain the utmost secrecy, allowing only a select few to access it.
But there was another way in, reserved for the big players.
Powerful organizations with enough authority had secured permission to use teleportation portals, intricately woven into Atlantis' defenses.
These portals bridged the gap between the surface world and the underwater city, but they had to asked for permission first to avoid the clever teleportation jammer that kept unwanted guests at bay.
Anyone bold enough to attempt teleporting directly into this location without proper authorization would find themselves met with a formidable defense mechanism.
The teleportation jammer employed by Atlantis possessed the capability to disrupt the very fabric of space, effectively neutralizing any unauthorized intruders and ensuring the city's security remained uncompromised.
HUMMMMMM!
In the middle of the air, a vehicle stood out – a long flying car, a seamless blend of silver and gold, cruising towards the city's core.
What caught the eye of everyone was its front, reminiscent of a classic 1960s roadster, an elegant reference to the past. However, beneath that retro charm lay an engineering marvel, far beyond anything you'd find on Earth's surface.
As the car glided gracefully, it defied common propulsion methods. Forget gas – this ride tapped into an energy source unique to Atlantis. Instead of wheels, magnets propelled the car, allowing it to move with ease, unburdened by friction.
Inside the car, a group of influential figures gathered, they were the representative of their own organization.
As they arrived at their destination, a towering building came into view, its height stretching so far that it seemed to almost touch the barrier's highest point.
Perched atop this impressive structure was a massive sphere, reminiscent of the sun's brilliance. The sight was nothing short of breathtaking.
"Atlantis never ceases to amaze me," a woman adorned in a flowing golden-white cleric's attire remarked, her voice filled with a sense of reminiscent .
Stepping out of the car, she was accompanied by a group of individuals dressed in distinct priestly garb, each bearing their own air of reverence and respect.
"It appears they've also arrived," she observed, her tone tinged with recognition, her gaze falling upon individuals clad in dark magic robes – unmistakably the representatives of the Ministry of Magica.
As her gaze fell upon the figure leading the way, a powerful aura emanated from him, capturing her senses. His face was concealed by a black mask that covered only half of his visage, shrouding his identity in mystery.
Despite her scrutiny, she struggled to discern any defining features that might offer a clue about who he was, except for the notable detail of a metal right hand. The enigma surrounding him deepened as she grappled with the curiosity sparked by his presence.
Following in their steps was another formidable groups, such as the Sorcerers of the East and the United States Supernatural Force, among others from around the world.
Yet, these organizations, influential as they were, paled in comparison to the true giants awaiting them within the towering structure.
Agnes couldn't help but feel a shiver of trepidation at the mere thought of the Big 3, organizations whose power surpassed even the Vatican.
"Shall we proceed inside, Saintess Agnes?" A bishop's voice resonated, and she nodded in response, her resolve unwavering. Together, they advanced towards the entrance.
ραΠdαsΝοvel.cοm At the entrance stood twelve highly skilled individuals, all dressed in armor that resembled fish scales, complete with helmets and tridents. These were the Atlantis mass-produced De facto Rank S Warriors – a group created artificially. While their exact rank might be debatable, they were definitely stronger than your average Rank A+ supernatural beings.
"Atlantis was clearly showing off its power," she muttered to herself.
These warriors were guarding the entrance, serving as a strong deterrent to anyone thinking of causing trouble. Their presence was meant to discourage anyone from disturbing the peace. But it was obvious that anyone foolish enough to challenge them within Atlantis would be in for a serious and unwise decision.
Upon entering the entrance, they were greeted by a lobby that was more than just spacious – it was grand on a scale that could be described as mall-like rather than a typical lobby. The expanse of the area was astounding.
Currently, most of the attending organizations had segregated themselves, maintaining their own groups.
Smaller organizations seemed to be mingling in an attempt to network, a behavior often seen from those with less influence. They sought to curry favor by flattering the more established groups, hoping to forge connections.
However, a distinct pattern emerged among the top-ranking organizations.
Those within the top 10 seemed to keep to themselves, perhaps a sign of their confidence and standing in the supernatural world. While the lobby hummed with a mix of camaraderie and strategic interactions, this layer painted a clear picture of the power dynamics at play within the gathering.
"They're watching us," one of the bishops whispered, drawing attention to the fact that their arrival hadn't gone unnoticed.
Naturally, many organizations had their focus on the them. After all, they were the ones who had called for this meeting, so it was expected that they would be under the spotlight.
"Did the Vatican actually do the classic 'run between the legs' move against some unknown group?"
"I mean, seriously? They think they're top 10 material with that embarrassing retreat?"
"Ah, come on, give them a break. We all know they're basically helpless without their angelic backup," someone else chuckled.
These sly remarks and jests circulated among the attendees, their enhanced senses ensuring that not a single snarky insult went unnoticed.
"These heretics !" Cardinal Gabriel Morales seethed in anger. As the second-in-command during the retreat, the insults struck a nerve and ignited his fury.
"Gabriel, don't let their words affect you," Saint Agnes calmly intervened, her voice a calm presence. She knew that this wasn't the right place for a confrontation.
"But they're openly insulting us!" He protested, his wounded pride refusing to take the slight lying down.
"Let's rise above this and show them grace in the face of their own mistakes," she responded, her words carrying a calm tone.
"Mistakes? Hahahaha, what a funny word you're using, Agnes!"
A sudden voice echoed through the hall, drawing everyone's attention.
Then, a massive figure with four arms approached the Vatican representatives with heavy and overbearing steps.
He had directly targeted Agnes with his sharp words, yet she seemed strangely subdued in his presence. There was even a hint of fear in her eyes.
And her reaction was quite normal.
Before her stood a man who carried the bloodline of Asura, the leader of the Hindu Ancient Civilization, the current 4th Rank , and someone who's power was beyond Rank SSS.
"Did I hit a sour spot? ," He taunted her with a mocking glee.
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