The Emperor of Atlantis collects his thoughts. Something new has been added, and he examines it.
“You have given me a weapon I can use against you,” he says to young Adam Amari.
“Yes sir.”
“And you have left yourself defenseless in the process.”
“That’s correct, sir.”
Experimentally, he engulfs the human boy in a bubble, and begins to cut off his air. He can feel the fear of perceived betrayal, the shame of imagined failure to achieve his mission, the terror of imminent suffocation and death. But no counterattack is forthcoming.
Interesting.
He releases the bubble. The boy drops to his knees, panting and gasping. Ji-a Lee rushes to his side, her own concern evident.
Could this be mental deception? It’s possible. Anything is possible, but not equally so. He performs his usual exercises of memory, calculation, and investigation, and finds himself satisfied with the results. If there is mental influence at play, it is either so subtle as to escape notice, or so overwhelming as to defy escape. It’s therefore logical to proceed as though the boy’s gift is genuine.
“Zpa’kadishtuor,” he says in Atlantean. “Envision me as I was when we first met.”
The good doctor does so, and the Emperor finds himself able to perceive a self-image within his fellow True Atlantean’s memory. Exceedingly interesting.
What of this trial by empathy, then?
He finds his perceptions able to follow a psychic current. Ah - there is Saito. He is fighting another human boy.
Three other individuals, one superhumanly fast human and two artificial beings, are fighting off the massed Atlantean Blood in the audience chamber. Soldiers are bringing the “anti-robot railgun” countermeasures into play, but the fast one is disarming them. Others are using conventional weapons, which the “robots” are blocking or destroying.
The glowing strip conjured by the boy Adam is collecting the emotions radiated by Saito and his opponent. The Emperor examines them, conscious of the purely physical aspects of the fight. Saito’s training as an Atlantean ninja has not lost its edge. But this boy - Leo - has something else, some innate gift, that has honed his fighting potency to perfection. It is an even match.
Why, then?
What does Saito feel? The Emperor can feel rage, injustice, frustration, fear, disgust. There is thwarted ambition. There is regret over lost potential. What potential? Ah - Saito wanted to use this boy in his scheme, and was unable to.
What of the boy? Pain, fury, a primal passion. Terror, locked away behind walls of forgetfulness. Saito has physically injured him, as a method of coercion, but it was ineffective.
Both combatants are trading blows. Tissue is traumatized. Cuts are opened as bladed weapons find their mark. The Emperor can feel every frenzied breath, as two pairs of lungs struggle to take in enough air to power their bodies at peak output.
What is it for? The Emperor can feel the waves emanating from Saito. His co-conspirators. The Blood as a whole. His dreams for a new Atlantis, one that will rule the surface and the seas alike.
And the boy, Leo? He can feel past encounters with hostile forces. He can feel a looming father figure, one connected with Saito as well. He feels the boy’s affection for Ji-a Lee, and her love for Atlantis in return. He is fighting so that others can experience that same love.
These waves spread outward. In a room, another boy, shouting at screens, defying military men. Deep in the ocean, all alone, a girl, sobbing to herself, praying to any god that will listen that she need not kill some of her own kind in defending Atlantis. She, too, battles for a chance to end the trap of fear, and she feels it most personally of all.
What of the surface?
The Emperor feels the cold and harsh experience of the people of Halcyon City, and elsewhere. They are not cowering, or running. They are angry. They are sad. But they remain defiant.
He returns to Ji-a Lee. He feels for her past interactions with him. He feels her fear, her self-control, her attempt to forge a bond in spite of her anger at being held in Atlantis, and her sorrow at losing her family.
Her question returns to him. If the people of Atlantis were to die for him, or were he to die for Atlantis, which would be better?
The Emperor can feel the resentment of the Blood who ally themselves with Saito. He can sense the specific technical details of their plan - life in robot bodies, or renewed bio-engineering efforts to extend the lifespans of their organic bodies. Their hopes have never been so close to fruition.
This coup will be different.
This resentment will not fade. The sacrifices of the Blood soldiers on the surface will not be forgotten. And for what? The humans are not reacting the way they ought. Escalation is inevitable.
This “Shard” understands several Virtues. Honesty, Compassion, Valor, Honor, Justice, and Sacrifice.
There is another. Humility.
He recognizes it radiating from this boy, Adam Amari. His soul tells the Emperor what Adam feels. I am not more important than my goal. Out of Compassion for the Atlanteans, I’ll take a chance. From Valor I draw strength to make this journey. Honesty compels me to speak truthfully, not to lie or deceive. For Honor I’ll be true to my word. For Justice, I’ll try to achieve peace. Through Sacrifice, I’ll surrender my power in the hope of achieving it.
In the audience chamber, the boy Leo has been knocked to the ground. He wipes blood from his mouth, and rises to continue the fight. He will not give up on hope, even if his body gives way first. The Emperor sees that now.
“Ji-a Lee,” the Emperor says. “I have an answer to your question.”