video_Влюблённая русалка-15, Eng)
Mermaid in Love Vladimir Yelin Chapter 15. A Tour of the Ship Before the elder gave his truth, He paused to let the moment breathe. To give the guest the time, in truth, To feel what stirred so far beneath. Then Isis asked with gleaming eyes, “Shall we explore? I’ll be your guide!” She took his hand with no disguise— Her joy lit up the ship with pride. They left the hall—through wall they passed! A panel vanished into air. A glass-smooth lift descended fast With gentle motion, smooth and rare. Below them lay a sight surreal— A chamber vast, a glowing core. A power-cell of shimmering steel— He’d never seen such tech before. She told him, “Here’s the sacred heart, The living soul of all you see. To grasp it whole defies your art— It stretches thought, it bends belief.” “We’ve mastered ether’s subtle wave, Its currents flow through every spark. We shape the micro-world and save The balance holding light and dark.” He asked, “But how old are you all?” She smiled, “Our age is not defined. We tune our form when we are called— To match Earth’s hour, place, and time.” They wandered halls both near and vast— Too many wings to count or name. Until at last they reached, at last, The Hall of Messianic Flame. He asked, with steady voice and gaze, “Why me? Just say it straight and clear!” The leader’s thought lit through the haze: “You are the last Atlantean heir.” It struck him like a silent bell— Too vast, too deep to grasp or fight. But something in his soul swelled: “My father… he was almost right…”
Mermaid in Love Vladimir Yelin Chapter 15. A Tour of the Ship Before the elder gave his truth, He paused to let the moment breathe. To give the guest the time, in truth, To feel what stirred so far beneath. Then Isis asked with gleaming eyes, “Shall we explore? I’ll be your guide!” She took his hand with no disguise— Her joy lit up the ship with pride. They left the hall—through wall they passed! A panel vanished into air. A glass-smooth lift descended fast With gentle motion, smooth and rare. Below them lay a sight surreal— A chamber vast, a glowing core. A power-cell of shimmering steel— He’d never seen such tech before. She told him, “Here’s the sacred heart, The living soul of all you see. To grasp it whole defies your art— It stretches thought, it bends belief.” “We’ve mastered ether’s subtle wave, Its currents flow through every spark. We shape the micro-world and save The balance holding light and dark.” He asked, “But how old are you all?” She smiled, “Our age is not defined. We tune our form when we are called— To match Earth’s hour, place, and time.” They wandered halls both near and vast— Too many wings to count or name. Until at last they reached, at last, The Hall of Messianic Flame. He asked, with steady voice and gaze, “Why me? Just say it straight and clear!” The leader’s thought lit through the haze: “You are the last Atlantean heir.” It struck him like a silent bell— Too vast, too deep to grasp or fight. But something in his soul swelled: “My father… he was almost right…”