“Now in this island of Atlantis there existed a confederation of kings, of great and marvellous power, which held sway over all the island, and over many other islands also and parts of the continent…”

The assembled guardians of the city file out from between the pillars of the oracle’s temple, into the drowsy summer’s evening. The sun is beginning to set over the darkening ocean, picking out the sails of distant ships and burnishing the thin clouds. From the hill above the rooftops of Atlantis, the guardians exchange murmurs, struggling to untangle the threads of what the oracle had told each of them: that a part of Atlantis would be swallowed by the earth - “no, the implication was by water, a storm, a deluge” - “hardly so, the oracle spoke of buildings in flame, a terrible fire” - “I took that to be a great battle, a bombardment, we must look to our defences” - “no, the oracle told me that the city would never be taken by a foreign power…” Others, perhaps realising the true weight of the oracle’s words, do not speak.

Torches are raised around the temple entrance and the group walks from the light, threading their way beneath the ropes and pulleys that hang across the growing streets. Still equivocating over the oracle’s prophecies, they head towards the palace district, some with confidence and others with trepidation.

Rename “Memory of Atlantis” to “Guardian”, and “Linguist Team” to “Oracle”. Rename the “Atlantean Codex” wiki page to “Atlantean City Plan”.