Introduction

 

This is the morning before me coming to age, I am 19 years old by the measure of my body, although by Earth’s calendar, I would be nearly one hundred and seventy-five.

 

I have never walked on Earth. I have never felt rain on my skin, breathed air beneath an open sky, or stood beneath a real sunrise.

And yet, somehow, I have always felt that Earth remembers me.

 

Perhaps that is why, when the time finally came for me to leave the Moon, I couldn't ignore the feeling that my life was about to change. I just didn't know how much. Because Earth was not simply waiting for us. It was waiting for something to awaken.

And perhaps that was the real beginning of Atlantis II.

 

Chapter One

The Moon’s Edge

In an era where time and space no longer behave the way they once did, time moves strangely here on the Moon.

It is difficult to explain.

By Earth’s measurements, I am nearly one hundred and seventy-five years old. By the measure of my body, I am 19. Young enough to still be discovering who I am, yet old enough to be expected to know what I will give to the future.

​

I woke as I always did on a workday.

My feet touched the cold metallic floor, and my body adjusted to the familiar low gravity. The room was quiet except for the soft vibration of the ventilation system.

Another ordinary day.

Another routine.

I dressed quickly and headed toward the generators.

I have been doing this since I came of age, since the day I became old enough to contribute to our community.

This is my world.

The Moon.

 

I have spent my entire life inside this colony. I have never touched our mission planet the Earth, as they call it. I have never seen another horizon. I have never stood beneath a natural sky.

The stars I see at night are not truly stars.

They are projections.

Our city creates them to remind us of what exists beyond these walls. Tiny points of light shimmer across the artificial sky, simulating a universe we can only imagine.

Outside our Moon, however, the real stars hang motionless in an endless expanse of black.

Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to see them without glass between us.

Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to see Earth.

The Moon has always been home.

It is safe here.

Predictable.

Familiar.

But lately, something has been changing.

I can feel it.

Something beyond the walls.

Something beyond the Moon.

Something calling.

 

Chapter Two

The Seeds of the Atlantis 

I was born here, on the Moon, in a time when space and time seem to fold into one another.

My parents were part of the second generation of volunteers who came here from distant worlds. My grandparents were among the original three hundred souls who volunteered for the First Lunar Mission, the pioneers who built the foundations of the colony that would eventually become our home.

​

They left everything behind.

Their worlds.

Their families.

Their histories.

​

Some came as free volunteers. Some came because their planets could no longer sustain them. Some came from worlds destroyed by war. Others came from civilizations whose resources had been exhausted. And some, like my own family, came because there was simply nowhere else left to go, the destruction of Tia-mmath happend.

After that, everything changed.

Survival was no longer enough.

We needed a new world.

And there was only one planet on our solar system that held the possibility of becoming that new home.

Earth.

 

Earth was the planet that held extraordinary potential.

The Confederation saw what Earth could become.

A new beginning.

A place where life could be rebuilt.

A world where many different species and genetic lineages could eventually live together.

So the first fleet was sent.

 

Chapter Three

The First Atlantians.

They were volunteers from across the Confederation and the Galactic Coalition, chosen to establish the first permanent settlement on Earth. They built their first base deep beneath the planet’s surface, where they could be protected from the hostile conditions above.

Their first great undertaking was the construction of the Rhomboid Pyramids — enormous structures designed to generate and stabilize a magnetic field around the planet, creating a protective shield for the world below.

Once the magnetic field was established, the Atlantians began constructing the first underground laboratories and research facilities. From there, they turned their attention to the atmosphere, developing the technology needed to gradually restore and stabilize Earth’s environment so that, one day, life could once again exist safely on its surface.

What began beneath the Earth would eventually become the foundation for a new civilization above it.

​

At first, Earth was little more than a planetary laboratory, a place where scientists could study its atmosphere, its soil, its remaining biological traces, and the possibilities of restoring life.

But slowly, something unexpected happened.

The laboratory became a home.

Different species began arriving. Different beings found their way to Earth, each bringing their own genetic heritage, knowledge, and culture.

Earth began to change.

And so did we.

​

The first experiments in creating life adapted to the new Earth eventually led to the Neanderthals, the first humanoid beings specifically developed to survive the planet's harsh conditions. But the Atlantians were not finished. The second arrival would change everything.

By then, the galactic scientists had learned from the first experiments. They had perfected their understanding of genetics and had begun working with DNA from different humanoid and Galactic lineages. The goal was to create something stronger.

Something capable of surviving and building the future of Earth. But there were laws governing what genetic material could be used.

There were boundaries that were never supposed to be crossed. And one of my brothers crossed them. He introduced DNA from Galactic Beings into the genetic design.

It was forbidden.

​

But the result was unlike anything anyone had expected. From that forbidden combination emerged the humans we know today. "Humanity".

Stronger and more adaptable than any other known being within our solar system, they were not simply another species created to survive Earth.

They carried something more.

Something ancient.

Something Galactic.

Something that connected them to worlds and beings far beyond our own.

But that power could not be allowed to remain unrestricted.

​

So, the Confederation feared what humanity might become if they discovered the full extent of their abilities, or remembered where they truly came from.

So they intervened. They implanted what became known as the Jehovah Seals, restricting access to parts of their consciousness and potential. Certain chromosomes were also removed or suppressed, vital pieces of their genetic inheritance were hidden.

And eventually, their memories of their true origin disappeared, so generation after generation, humanity totally forgot they had been created through a forbidden union of genetic lineages. They forgot the Galactic beings whose DNA had become part of their own.

They forgot the potential encoded within them. Slowly they forgot who they truly were.

And yes, that was exactly what the Confederation intended.

 

But the story did not end there.

Because some things cannot be erased completely.

They can only be buried.

And somewhere deep within humanity, beneath the Seals, beneath the altered chromosomes, beneath generations of forgotten history...

the original memory remained, waiting...

Perhaps that is why Earth has always felt strangely familiar to me.

Even though I was born on the Moon, I have always felt that Earth was calling me.

 

 

Chapter Four

Echoes of Tia-mmath

I've always known that I was different.

At eight and a half feet tall, it would be difficult not to notice.

I am a mixture of two worlds.

Two lineages.

Two kinds of beings.

My skin carries a soft pinkish-blue tint, unlike anything found in ordinary humans. My eyes are large and luminous, a deep pink-sapphire color that catches the light like precious stones beneath an unfamiliar sun. My hair is long, wild, and reddish, falling around me in a way that seems almost weightless in the Moon's gentle gravity.

There is something unusual about me, something that I have never been able to fully explain.

Perhaps it is written in my eyes.

Perhaps it is hidden in my DNA.

Or perhaps it is simply the legacy of the two worlds that created me.

Here on the Moon, where gravity is weak and everything seems suspended between movement and stillness, my body feels almost weightless. When I walk, my hair drifts behind me, and every movement seems slower, softer — as though the Moon itself is reminding me that I don't completely belong to this world.

Sometimes I look at my reflection and wonder what I would look like beneath the sky of another planet.

Especially Earth.

I have never seen it with my own eyes.

But somewhere inside me, it feels familiar.

Almost like a memory I was never supposed to have.

​

To be Continue.....