Agent Atlantis

Prologue

Ten years ago . . . 

Fire.

That's the only thing Luke could see.

Screams.

That's the only thing Luke could hear.

Fear.

That's the only thing Luke could feel . . .

A hand touched his shoulder and he was quickly picked up.

"You alright, L?" a calm voice asked him as the speaker hurried to the back of their small home carrying Luke. "I didn't want you to experience this at such a young age."

Papa! Luke relaxed in his embrace. His world had changed so much in a matter of minutes, but one thing was certain to his young brain: If Papa's here, nothing can go wrong.

As they ran, another figure appeared from the side and followed. She had a small bundle in her arms. "How can you say such a thing?!" Mom exclaimed in a panicked voice. "This wasn't supposed to happen in their life!"

Luke had no idea what they were talking about; one moment he was staring out of a window into the center of the village, and the next had soldiers appearing with weapons.

Papa just laughed. "Oh, Annalise. This is what I deserve for acquiring this job."

From the front of the house, the distinct sound of the front door being kicked off its hinges reached the family's ears, followed by angry shouting.

They reached the house's rear, and Papa gently set Luke down. He knelt down to the seven-year-old's height. "Alright, Luke. Here's the deal: some very bad men are looking for us. I need you to go through there"—he pointed at the backdoor—"and run into the forest. Do not look back. Just keep running."

Slams were heard as the interior doors of the house were roughly opened. Harsh breathing tore through the air. The noises came closer.

"W-what about you?" Luke asked in a timid voice. 

Papa's smile was very grim. "I'll buy you some time." He tousled Luke's hair. "Stay strong, okay? Protect your mom and your younger brother."

Multiple pairs of footsteps thumped toward them. 

Papa stood up and kissed Mom, then took the bundle—Luke's infant brother—from her. He held him tenderly for a few precious moments—and then shoved them all out of the door. "Run!" he demanded. "And Luke, be good!"

As Luke followed behind his mother and brother down the stone steps to his backyard, he had no idea that those were the last words he would ever hear from his father.

~~~

Luke was struggling. The distance from his backyard to the forest wasn't that big, but he found himself impotent to match his mother's pace with his stubby legs. 

She was one step ahead of him. Then two. Then five.

And then she disappeared into the forest without looking back. 

Luke's lungs burned. His feet ached. He'd never been in this situation before, but he knew he wouldn't be able to catch up. His foot tripped over an uneven mound of dirt. He had no control over his body.

The dark horizon stretched to block his vision—and then shortened as he somersaulted to his feet. He paused to regain his breath—

Five small projectiles whizzed past him, punching holes into the ground. He was old enough to know they were bullets.

And that, if he hadn't fallen to the ground, they would've punctured right through him. He looked back at where they came from.

His breath hitched. 

The village he called home seemed to be overtaken by demonic forces. The wooden houses were on fire, and dead bodies were scattered everywhere. For a brief moment, he wondered if he was stuck in a nightmare. Luke heard the sound of screaming—then gunfire. The scream was cut short. 

He focused on the house in the middle—his house. It seemed to have the least damage, as though whoever was in charge saved it for last. From just the rear portion of the exterior of the house, Luke could pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary inside . . .

 . . . Except for the bullet holes in the backdoor.

And then the house blew up.

The explosion forced pieces of the slate roof into the sky, leaving embers in their wake like fireworks. It was immediately followed by a fireball that blotted out the view from the windows—and then the shockwave.

One moment Luke was on his feet, and the next, he was on the ground, cradling his bleeding skull, which had been knocked up against a tree. His ears were ringing—but that didn't cover up the sound of footsteps approaching him.

He weakly turned around, only to find a gun pointed at his face. He traced his eyes up to its owner. He was a brute of a man, blocking the moon with his height, with five more blood-spattered soldiers behind him.

"You told me you knew someone important," grunted the leader towards a nervous wreck of a man to his left, "but this is just a kid. I think you're buying time."

Luke's spirits lifted; the sweaty man was his neighbor, Mr. Adiola. Papa and he were very close, up to the point that Luke looked at him as an uncle.

"Where is the mother?" one of the soldiers quietly asked Mr. Adiola. "And what about the brother?"

"T-they probably went in the forest, sir," Mr Adiola replied. "The evacuation called for that."

The leader nodded his head, and the five soldiers behind him marched into the forest, guns drawn.

"Mr. Adiola? Who are these men?" Liam asked weakly, blood dripping down his face. "Are they good?"

The leader laughed sardonically. "You should be more worried about your life." He sharply kicked Luke in the gut.

"Maybe we should spare him," Mr. Adiola suggested as Luke groaned in pain. "He could come to great use."

"There's no point. He's just a little kid." The leader's finger tensed on the trigger of his gun. 

Luke closed his eyes. This was it. The pain in his head had settled down to a dull throb, and his breathing turned shallow.

However, before the leader could shoot, Mr. Adiola jumped in front of Luke. "I heard you're short on recruits for the new Agency program, right?"

"That's the nature of the program," the leader replied gruffly. "Now, get out of my way, or I'll shoot you too."

Mr. Adiola gulped, but didn't move. "Let Luke join. He no longer has parents—or anyone who would look for him, rather."

There was a pause. The leader looked like he wanted to gun them both down on the spot, but then his expression changed. "Fine." He looked at Luke in disgust. "No one will go easy on you for your injuries or your age, y'know. Don't come crying to me when you get beaten bloody."

Luke gulped, and looked at Mr. Adiola, who just silently nodded.

And then Luke made the worst decision in his life.

"I'll join," he confirmed.