Haldor approached the outskirts of Atlantis, his steps deliberate as his mind churned with questions. The rumors he had heard about his father had been too persistent to ignore. He had come to see for himself whether they were true. As he neared the elevated construction site, an odd sight unfolded before him. Bergelmir, his father, stood on a ramp, directing a group of Atlanteans skilled in woodcraft. They toiled with focused precision, their tools clattering against wood and stone. Whatever they were building had yet to take a recognizable shape, but the sheer scale of the effort was undeniable.

Haldor’s gaze swept over the scene, his irritation simmering beneath his usual calm demeanor. Of all places, why here? The site—the highest point within the city—was visible from nearly every corner of Atlantis. It was as if Bergelmir wanted everyone to witness this enigmatic project.

Why is my father so obsessed with Aryabhata’s warning? Haldor’s thoughts turned inward, frustration mounting. There is no danger to Atlantis. I wish he would come to his senses.

He raised his voice to overcome the cacophony of saws, hammers, and shouted instructions. “Father!”

Bergelmir turned, squinting against the sunlight to identify the caller. Upon recognizing his son, a warm smile spread across his face. He gestured for Haldor to join him atop the ramp.

“Dear son! It is good to see you here,” Bergelmir said, his voice tinged with genuine affection as Haldor climbed the ladder to his vantage point.

“Father, I’m glad to see you so lively,” Haldor replied with sincerity, though his words were edged with restraint. “I came after hearing you’d returned from Aryabhata’s Observatory and started this construction.”

Haldor’s gaze shifted from his father to the site below, where hundreds of workers moved like bees in a hive. The foundation of the structure stretched out beneath them, massive yet undefined. For the briefest moment, Haldor’s brow furrowed, betraying his unease before he smoothed his features into a mask of polite curiosity. But the subtle shift hadn’t escaped Bergelmir.

He doesn’t understand why I’m doing this. Not yet.

Bergelmir’s expression softened, his tone earnest. “Son, what I’m doing here is for the good of Atlantis. I’m taking precautions while others fully believe themselves above all things. We must not delude ourselves into thinking we’ve reached the pinnacle of existence.” His voice gained urgency. “The moon, the sun, the planets, the distant stars—how were they created? Who governs their movements? There is so much we don’t understand. If we start believing we have all the answers, that we are invincible, complacency will become our downfall.”

Bergelmir’s eyes searched his son’s face, hoping his words would find fertile ground. For a moment, Haldor’s expression seemed thoughtful, his mind digesting the wisdom his father offered. But then his gaze hardened, and he spoke with the careful neutrality of a council head.

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“Father, I came here at the request of the council to see what you are building.”

Bergelmir’s hope crumbled. A fleeting shadow of pain crossed his face before he turned to look out over the city. “I’m doing this to protect Atlantis… most of all, to protect you, my son,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper.

Haldor pressed on, his tone measured. “How is this supposed to protect us? Can you explain what you’re doing here? The council is concerned. They say you’ve taken too many resources and diverted skilled workers. They fear this will delay preparations for the 25th Millennial Celebrations.”

The 25th Millennial Celebrations. Is that truly all they think about? Bergelmir’s frustration flared, but he quickly reined it in.

“I’m building towers,” he said, his voice firm. “They will use mechanisms designed to protect Atlantis from any kind of danger.”

Haldor’s curiosity piqued despite himself. “How will they protect Atlantis?”

Bergelmir’s face brightened slightly as he gestured toward the foundation below. “Each tower is designed to withstand external forces. They’ll act as stabilizers for the city, protecting it should the ground itself rebel against us. Aryabhata’s studies informed their design—the mechanisms rely on the resonance of the crystals, amplifying their natural stability. It’s a collaboration of reason and innovation, Haldor. The culmination of centuries of learning.”

Haldor listened carefully, the technical details stirring admiration for his father’s intellect. Yet doubt lingered. “But why here? Why so visible? Surely the city would feel more secure if this were less… disruptive.”

Bergelmir sighed, his gaze steady. “Because they must see, Haldor. They must see what we’re working toward. It’s a reminder that Atlantis’s perfection isn’t eternal. The lack of threats doesn’t mean there are none. We are not above nature or chance. Aryabhata understands this better than anyone, and I trust his warnings. The rest of us are in a deadly slumber.”

He locked eyes with his son, his voice firm. “Son, this is important. I need your support. Don’t let them stop me from finishing this project. The future of Atlantis depends on it.”

Haldor’s face flushed slightly. Torn between loyalty to his father and his duty to the council, he hesitated. “Father, I’ll do my best to mediate, but the council isn’t happy. Lyras, especially, is working to curb your influence and redirect the resources you’ve taken.”

Lyras. The name sent a ripple of frustration through Bergelmir. The man’s ambition clashed with everything Bergelmir stood for. He doesn’t see the danger because he refuses to look.

“The council needs to understand there’s no time to wait for their approval,” Bergelmir said. “I have to build three towers in a short time and ensure they work. If I go through the council, Lyras will delay everything.”

Haldor’s expression softened slightly. “Father, you know the council’s process. You were there when the Great Observatory was approved. It’s not just about resources—it’s about trust.”

“And how long did that process take?” Bergelmir countered. “This time, I don’t have that luxury. If Aryabhata is right, we’re facing an existential threat. I must act now, or it will be too late.”

Haldor nodded reluctantly. “I’ll try to mediate. I hope it works out for you.”

Bergelmir placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, his gratitude genuine. “Thank you, Haldor. It means everything that you came to speak to me personally.”

As Haldor descended the ramp and returned to the city, Bergelmir watched him go, a pang of unease gripping his heart. The sight of Atlantis, alive and thriving, filled him with both pride and foreboding. He vowed then and there to protect the city... and his son, no matter how hard he had to work for it.