Reich of Atlantania

The Reichs Founding Myth 
The Rise of the Reich of Atlantia: A Tale of Hubris, Immortality, and Divine Wrath
Many hundreds of years ago, there existed a band of merchants who sailed the seas, not in search of trade, but in a relentless quest to strip the earth of its deepest resources. They were more than just explorers—they were conquerors of the very elements, wielding a complex and ancient machine of unknown origin. This machine, an abomination against nature, could drain the earth dry, force the land to bleed its treasures, and leave barren desolation in its wake.
The merchants used this machine endlessly. With each stroke of its power, the world grew weaker—rivers dried, forests withered, and the sky seemed to darken as if the earth itself was suffocating. They became addicted to the wealth it brought, their greed insatiable. But as they tore apart the world for their gain, they did not consider the cost. They were blind to the suffering they caused and deaf to the groans of the dying earth. Until, one day, the heavens could bear it no longer.
God, who had watched with patience, finally struck. On a still and eerie night, as the merchants sailed across a mirror-calm sea, the skies above erupted in fury. A storm unlike any before descended upon them, tearing their ship apart in a violent surge. Lightning cracked the sky like a divine whip, and the seas swallowed the vessel whole. The merchants, their machine, and all their riches were dragged into the abyss, lost to the crushing depths of the ocean. All except for one.
He was the captain—the man who had commanded the machine, driven by greed beyond reason. But unlike his crew, he had tasted the forbidden fruit of immortality. It had made him invincible in spirit, but now, cursed with eternal life, he found himself trapped at the bottom of the sea. The weight of his sin anchored him to the wreckage of his ship, and though his soul could not die, his body began to rot, slowly, painfully, over centuries. He sat atop the remnants of his vessel, pondering his fate for decades, unaware that his flesh was decaying, that he was becoming something less and less human.
As time passed, the realization dawned on him: though his soul was eternal, his body was not. Flesh fell away, bones creaked, and his once-proud form twisted into something grotesque. In his desperation to preserve himself, he began constructing a massive dome on the seafloor. Piece by piece, using the remnants of the wreckage and materials from the ocean depths, he built a sprawling structure—an intricate tomb, but also a sanctuary. Inside this dome, he worked tirelessly, seeking a way to halt the decay of his body and reverse the curse that had been laid upon him.
Many, many years passed. His body, once strong, was reduced to skeletal remains. His flesh had long since rotted away, but his mind endured, clinging to the thin thread of immortality that kept him from the final peace of death. He had become something monstrous—a twisted relic of a man who had once defied the gods.
It was in this state that an ancient tribe, the People of the Sea, discovered him. They were a mysterious race, possessing ancient knowledge of the ocean's secrets. Through their mastery of alchemy, they had created a special elixir that allowed them to breathe underwater for short periods. They wandered the deep, searching for lost knowledge, and when they stumbled upon the captain’s dome, they thought they had uncovered a forgotten god.
The skeletal figure greeted them with hollow eyes that burned with the faintest trace of life. He told them his story—of the machine, the greed, the curse—and of the immortality that had damned him to rot forever beneath the waves. The People of the Sea, struck by his tale, promised to help him. They believed they could cure him, believing him to be a divine being trapped in mortal decay.
They began to build. They took up residence in the captain’s dome, expanding it, creating vast complexes and structures that stretched across the ocean floor. Their entire society became focused on one singular goal: to preserve and heal the god they had found. But in their fervor, they unknowingly invoked the wrath of the true God. Their efforts to defy the natural order, to preserve what should have been allowed to die, angered the heavens once more.
For their hubris, the People of the Sea were cursed. They were bound to the sea floor, never again able to return to the surface or mingle with their kind. The curse twisted their bodies over time, just as it had the captain. Their skin turned pale and translucent, their eyes grew wide and clouded, and their forms warped to adapt to the crushing depths. They became creatures of the deep, cut off from the world above, isolated in their underwater empire. But with this isolation grew something else: hatred.
Their hatred for the God who had cursed them festered over centuries. The People of the Sea became bitter and vengeful, convinced that they had been unjustly punished for their devotion to the captain. This hatred drove them to develop new and terrifying technologies, far beyond the limits of the natural world. They began to experiment on their own people, blending their bodies with the sea creatures around them, creating monstrous hybrids of man and beast. Cruel and torturous experiments became the norm as they sought to transcend their cursed state and rise up against the God who had banished them to the depths.
Their underwater civilization grew darker with each passing generation. Where once they had sought only to preserve their supposed god, now they yearned for vengeance. They developed weapons of immense power, learned to manipulate the ocean’s very currents, and designed horrific biological experiments. They tore apart their own people, searching for ways to enhance their strength, to live longer, to become more like the ancient skeletal being they worshiped. 
Thus, the Reich of Atlantia was born—an empire of the damned, ruled by hatred, consumed by their desire to kill the God who had cursed them. They became a terrifying force beneath the waves, hidden from the world above, but growing in power and malevolence with each passing century. Their technology surpassed anything on the surface, driven by the singular goal of revenge.
They worshiped the skeletal captain, sealing him away in the heart of the dome to preserve his remains, believing that one day, he would rise again and lead them in a final war against the heavens. Their hatred of God, of the world above, and of the surface-dwellers fueled their ambition, turning them into something far worse than the monsters they had once feared.
In the depths of the ocean, the Reich of Atlantia waits. They wait for the day they can breach the surface once more, to unleash their fury upon the world that had forgotten them, and to kill the God who had abandoned them. But in their blind quest for revenge, they have become something far more horrifying than the curse they sought to escape. They have become the very nightmare that haunts the deep.
Category:Abexilas
Category:Abexilas towns
Category:Abexilas Nations