Aftermath

Once the dust had settled, the people of Atlantis began cleaning up their disaster-ravaged homeland. After the joy of victory came grief for the fallen. The scars this catastrophic event had left upon the people of Atlantis were unimaginable. Since fleeing their homeland seven hundred and sixty thousand years ago, these remaining Descendants of Gods had struggled side by side like brothers and sisters, supporting one another through the darkest years and enduring until today for the sake of an almost impossible, faint hope. But this disaster that had fallen from the sky had taken nearly two-thirds of them forever. In every corner of the city, Atlantis Commoners could be seen clearing away bodies and dealing with the aftermath. The sorrow in their eyes nearly eclipsed the joy of victory.

Large numbers of bodies had been gathered in the plaza at the center of the city. Among them were slain mutated humans, as well as City Guards who had died in the counterattack. Now that the Abyss had retreated, enemies who had exhausted their last strength fighting one another lay once again upon the same ground, with no more hatred or battle between them, receiving the mourning of their kin together.

Before Atlantis, Sandora and I left the carrier mothership and entered the city once more. There was still one ceremony that required our personal presence—we had requested it ourselves.

"Most of those gathered in this plaza are fallen soldiers with no surviving relatives. Their entire families have perished, or they had always been alone," Ares said, bending close to my ear. "Most of them failed to live until the return of the gods. But Your attention and concern can comfort these warriors' souls. They can return home in peace."

As Ares spoke, the crowd in the plaza suddenly parted