HIstory: "Echoes of Tengri"

 

Echoes of Tengri

Chapter 1: Under an inverted sky

The sky in 2175 was no longer the same as it had been during humanity's glory days. Ghostly aurora fragments danced over the ruins of great cities, while magnetic winds roared like angry spirits, sweeping across the plains of a world on the brink of collapse.

The reversal of the Earth's magnetic field had transformed the planet into a hostile terrain: satellites had fallen like shooting stars, power grids had been wiped out in seconds, and the technology that once defined humanity had been reduced to ashes and memories.

In the midst of this chaos, a small miracle had emerged in the heart of Asia. Mongolia, with its unique geography and the inexplicable whims of the South Atlantic magnetic winds, became a refuge. The electromagnetic storms that were decimating the rest of the planet stopped dead when they reached the borders of this endless region. Under this protective bubble, civilization was reborn.

Altan Nur was the “Golden City” but it was not visible from the ground. Its grandeur was buried beneath miles of rock and sand, in a subterranean network of hundreds of tunnels, domes, and power systems that were fueled by resources still left on the planet’s surface. Built by the descendants of ancient nomads, the city was a testament to resilience and adaptation. Its design blended advanced engineering with a deep respect for ancient traditions. On the walls of its deepest chambers, murals of horsemen and celestial gods intertwined with complex technological diagrams, as if history and innovation had come to an agreement to coexist in peace.

In this place, where the memory of a lost world collided with the struggle to build a new one, a generation of scientists and explorers emerged, searching for answers both in the stars and in the depths of the Earth. Altaa was one of them. A child of storm and silence, she had grown up listening to her grandmother’s stories of Tengri , the god of the eternal sky, while in the laboratories of Altan Nur she learned about the physics of electromagnetic fields. Her mind lived between two worlds: the pragmatism of science and the mystery of ancient myths.

When the first signals came, many ignored them, dismissing them as background noise amid the constant interference of electromagnetic chaos. But not Altaa . The radio emissions picked up from the Khongoryn Els Dunes had patterns, repetitions, something that was both human and seemingly beyond comprehension. It was she who partially decoded them, finding amid the hum a sequence that made her hold her breath: a fragment of what seemed to be a message.

The “Echoes of Tengri”, as they began to be called, resonated like a whisper from the past or an echo from a forgotten future. But the deeper they delved into them, the clearer it became that they came from something buried deep within the Earth. Something ancient, vast, and vital.

What Altaa didn't yet know was that those echoes would be the key to saving what was left of humanity. And that the story of Tengri, the sky god who ruled from above, was about to be revealed not as a myth, but as a warning engraved in the very depths of the Earth.

The sky above Altan Nur was a constant palette of greenish shadows and lights. Since the Earth's magnetic field had weakened and solar storms swept away everything, the days had lost their clarity and time seemed to drag on under an opaque cloak. The underground city had grown, becoming a refuge for what remained of organized humanity.

In a small laboratory deep underground, Altaa adjusted the dial on her ancient radio wave receiver. Her black hair, pulled back in a makeshift bun, was flecked with rock dust, a reminder of the eternal maintenance work underground. In front of her, the screen crackled with interference. But in the chaos of static, Altaa had found the frequency of the signals again.

-“There it is again,”- he murmured, leaning into the microphone.

Beside him, Batu , a geotechnical engineer he had worked with for years, frowned as he watched the monitor.

—"Are you sure it's not electromagnetic noise? The storms keep disturbing the low frequencies."-

—"No, Batu. This is different,"- Altaa insisted, pointing to a line appearing on the screen. -"Look at these patterns. It repeats at exact intervals. It's not natural."-

Batu ran a hand through his short, unshaven beard thoughtfully.

—"It could be some old abandoned station. Maybe remnants of the satellites that still survive the storms."-

—"I thought about it. But I already triangulated the source,"- Altaa said as she pointed to a holographic map spread out on the table. The coordinates were marked at a point south of the Gobi Desert. -"The signals are coming from the Khongoryn Els Dunes, not from space."-

Batu raised an eyebrow.

—"The Gobi? No one has been there since before the catastrophe. It is too exposed to storms."-

—"Exactly. And why would someone install a transmitter there?"— Altaa replied with a glint in her eyes —"Listen, Batu. This is no coincidence. There is something down there. Something ancient."-

Altaa’s voice trembled slightly, echoing the mixture of excitement and fear she felt. Historical records mentioned myths about Shambhala, a hidden kingdom beneath the soil of Mongolia, but until now it had been just that: a myth. However, the broadcasts contained fragments of what seemed like an ancient language, and some sequences resembled communication algorithms.

-“Are you saying this has to do with… Shambhala?”- Batu asked, almost in disbelief, his tone trying to hide his skepticism.

—"I say we need to investigate. The magnetic field is weakening faster than the models predicted. And right now these signals are appearing out of nowhere. If there's something that connects the signals to the state of the Earth's core and the Earth's electromagnetic shield... it could explain why this deterioration occurred. Maybe we can even stabilize it,"- Altaa replied.

-"What if it's a coincidence? What if the signals have nothing to do with the deterioration of Earth's shield?"- Batu asked with a sigh.

Altaa looked up and stared at him.

—"What do we lose? The Earth is already a trap and doomed. But if we don't do something, anything, we are doomed."-

Deep within Altan Nur, where humanity had found its last refuge, the legends of Shambhala circulated through the halls like an ancestral echo. At first, they were just tales passed down by the elders, stories told by survivors around campfires as civilization adapted to its new life underground.

Shambhala was said to be not just a myth, but a real place: a hidden kingdom beneath the mountains, created by an ancient civilization that had reached a level of wisdom and knowledge beyond what humanity could comprehend.

In the historical archives, Altaa had found ancient references to Shambhala in Tibetan and Mongolian texts. According to the writings, this underground realm was located “at the center of the world” and was accessible only to those with a pure heart and a noble purpose. The place was described as a radiant city, with crystal towers and passages lit by an inner sun. But what most caught Altaa’s attention was not the descriptions of the city, but the technological details that seemed to have been written long before humanity had even dreamed of electricity.

In a 13th-century manuscript written by a Tibetan monk named Dawa Sengge, Altaa read about “eternal machines” that kept the world in balance. These machines, powered by energy emanating from the Earth’s core, were capable of controlling not only the planet’s magnetic flux but also its climatic stability. Although the texts spoke in symbolic terms, they mentioned an “infinite source of light” that some interpreted as a metaphor for spiritual knowledge, but which Altaa and his fellow scientists viewed as more of a direct reference to advanced technology.

There were more recent accounts, too, written by 19th-century explorers like Nicholas Roerich, who claimed to have received bits of information about Shambhala from monks in the Himalayan mountains. Roerich had described maps that pointed to key locations in Mongolia and Tibet as possible entrances to the realm, but his reports had been dismissed as mystical fantasies by the academic community of the day. Now, with messages coming from underground in the Gobi Desert, Altaa couldn’t help but think that those ancient explorers might have been closer to the truth than anyone had imagined.

One particularly disturbing reference came from the oral traditions of the Mongolian nomads, who spoke of Tengri, the sky god, as the protector of Shambhala. In legends, Tengri’s echoes were said to resonate in humanity’s darkest moments, calling out to those worthy of finding the realm. The radio broadcasts Altaa and his team had intercepted aligned with this description. The rhythmic pulses of the messages were not simple codes; they appeared to contain fractal patterns that mimicked the planet’s natural geomagnetic waves.

Even more intriguing, the messages repeated a series of numbers that, when deciphered, corresponded to the exact coordinates of the Khongoryn Els Dunes. This reinforced Altaa's belief that Shambhala was not a myth, but a remnant of a civilization that had found a way to integrate itself with the planet's natural processes, using the Earth's core as its energy source.

Stories also spoke of guardians, beings designed to protect Shambhala’s secrets from those who would seek to exploit them. According to legend, the guardians were not humans, but living constructs, created to watch over the balance between the surface world and the underground realm. No one knew if these creatures really existed or if they were a metaphor for the trials one must overcome to reach the city. However, the nomads said that the realm appeared only when the world was at its lowest point, as a last hope to restore order.

-"What if those guardians are automated defense systems?"- Altaa once suggested to his colleague Batu as they scanned the radio frequencies. –“Machines designed to protect a reactor, waiting for someone to come and reactivate it."-

Bayu laughed heartily, but his tone was serious. -"What if those legends aren't just tales, Altaa? An expedition to investigate wouldn't hurt anyone. What if Shambhala is the key to fixing all this? Maybe our traditions weren't superstitions after all."-

Altaa did not respond, but she knew that the stories of Shambhala could no longer be ignored. There were too many coincidences. Legends that had once been considered fantasy could now be the compass that would guide researchers to the mysteries of the core and to humanity's last hope.

Decades before the world collapsed, scientists were already talking about the “South Atlantic Anomaly”, a zone where the Earth’s magnetic field was inexplicably weak. It stretched from Brazil to southern Africa and had puzzled geophysicists for centuries. It was there that satellites became disoriented, where solar radiation penetrated deepest into the atmosphere, and where the fragility of the Earth’s magnetic shield was most apparent. What no one knew then, and was only understood too late, was that the anomaly was not a simple geological quirk, but a warning of what was to come.

In the year 2147, an international team of geophysicists led by Dr. Caio Mendes from Brazil undertook an expedition to study the Earth's core. With the cooperation of the Russian government, the expedition headed to the Kola Superdeep Well, near Norway and Finland, in the Pechenga district. Using planetary ultrasound technology - an innovation of the time - they discovered a terrifying phenomenon: a huge bubble of molten iron was moving in the core of the planet, and had positioned itself under South America. This bubble, which scientists called the 'Fire Vortex', was spinning in the opposite direction to the normal flow of liquid iron, and was causing the Earth's magnetic field to reverse.

The discovery left the scientific community in a state of panic. Computer simulations indicated that the vortex was generating an imbalance in the core's convection currents. This was not only weakening the magnetic field, but also destabilizing it in a chaotic manner. Some scientists tried to dismiss the danger, suggesting that the magnetic field had undergone reversals in the past, but what they had not considered was the speed of the change.

By 2153, experts' worst fears had materialized. The vortex reached critical size and caused an abrupt reversal of the Earth's magnetic field. For weeks, the magnetic poles wandered aimlessly, shifting position unpredictably. The magnetosphere, which protected the planet from solar winds, almost completely collapsed.

In South America, the South Atlantic Anomaly became the epicentre of the disaster. The skies over Brazil and Argentina filled with electrical auroras, a spectacle as beautiful as it was deadly. Satellites orbiting the region shut down en masse, unable to withstand the extreme radiation. On Earth, electrical systems collapsed. Global communication networks were wiped out in one fell swoop, leaving nations isolated and in chaos.   Planes could not navigate the anomaly.

The magnetic reversal triggered a chain reaction. Solar storms, once harmless thanks to the magnetic shield, began bombarding the planet with charged particles. Huge currents of geomagnetic induction melted power lines and caused explosions at nuclear power plants. The oceans, exposed to extreme ultraviolet radiation, experienced increased evaporation, unleashing unprecedented storms.

Within months, modern civilization collapsed. The most technologically advanced cities, such as Tokyo, New York, and Shanghai, were turned into ruins of steel and concrete. Geomagnetic storms transformed the atmosphere into a battlefield, destroying what remained of human technology.

Amidst the destruction, an unexpected phenomenon emerged. Mongolia, protected by its location in the heart of Asia and its distance from the Fire Vortex , experienced a unique alignment of magnetic currents. Scientists at Altan Nur discovered that the combination of the vortex in South America and the telluric currents beneath the Gobi Desert had created a kind of natural magnetic bubble. This bubble deflected solar winds and offered Mongolia a unique chance to survive.

What the world didn’t know at the time was that the magnetic field reversal, while devastating, had revealed something deeper. The echoes Altaa and his team detected weren’t simply remnants of ancient technology; they were the heartbeats of a system designed to intervene in times of crisis. The mysteries of Shambhala, the Earth’s core, and the legends of Tengri were about to become intertwined with the ruins of humanity.                      

 

 

Echoes of Tengri

Chapter 2: The expedition

 

A week later, Altaa and Batu assembled an expedition team of three: Enkhee , a cartographer with expertise in hostile terrain; Saruul , a biologist who specializes in extreme conditions; and Oyun , a former explorer turned drone pilot.

The mission was simple in theory: locate the source of the signals, assess the environment and return with data. But everyone knew that electromagnetic storms and the hostile environment of the Gobi would make every step a struggle.

The Earthship, an armored tank with magnetic wheels, drove into the dunes under a perpetually cloudy sky. Altaa sat in the center of the vehicle, adjusting the monitors that received the signals.

—“What exactly are you hoping to find?”— Saruul asked as he looked out one of the armored windows.

—“If the patterns are consistent, I think the ancient inhabitants of Shambhala left behind automated equipment that still works,”- Altaa replied. -“Something connected to the Earth’s core. Perhaps a reactor that stabilizes the magnetic field.”-

—“That sounds like science fiction, Altaa,”- Saruul said with a sarcastic smile.

—“The Earth’s magnetic reversal was predicted centuries ago, and we were already at the limit. The idea of ​​a reactor is not so far-fetched,”- Altaa replied in a firm tone. -“We know that the Earth’s core generates the magnetic field through convection currents of liquid iron. If an ancient civilization understood that and had advanced technology, they could have created a system to amplify and control it.”-

Batu intervened from the driver's seat.

—“What worries me is how advanced that civilization might have been. If they left something like that running for thousands of years, what other surprises might we find?”-

A silence fell over the group as they pondered. The idea of ​​Shambhala as a romantic myth seemed harmless when they were in Altan Nur. But now, surrounded by the unforgiving desert and the distant roar of storms, it felt all too real.

The magnetic storm crackled in the sky like a swarm of electric snakes, bathing the Gobi dunes in a flashing purple glow. The armored tank moved slowly forward, its caterpillar wheels sinking into the sand as if fighting an invisible enemy. The air was charged with static electricity; every time one of the expedition members touched the navigation panel, he received a mild shock.

In ancient texts and the oral traditions of Mongolian nomads, entry points to Shambhala were described with uncanny precision. Stories spoke of places where “the earth opens up and the sky loses its weight”. One such point was referred to as “The Dragon’s Mouth”, a canyon hidden in the Khongoryn Els Dunes, whose walls vibrated with a deep, rumbling sound during certain times of the year. Other accounts spoke of “The Eye of the Mountain”, a circular cave in the Altai Mountains that, according to legend, led directly to a network of tunnels that connected to the heart of the underground realm.

Altaa and his team studied these sites for weeks before deciding on their destination. The radio signal detected was strongest in the Khongoryn Els Dunes, and topographical data indicated the possible existence of caverns beneath the sand, accessible only during periods of low seismic activity.

The armored tank slowly advanced through the endless sands of the Gobi, protected from magnetic storms by a graphene shield and low-intensity electromagnetic pulses. It was a colossal vehicle designed to withstand anything from explosions to the corrosive desert winds. The roar of its engine was a constant reminder of how far the team was from civilization, but also how close they were to something extraordinary.

Altaa looked at the measuring instruments with a frown. -"The magnetic charge is increasing. If it goes up another two points, we'll have to stop. It could overload the tank's systems."-

Enkhee turned to her. -"Stop here? You're crazy! We're in the middle of a desert with almost zero visibility. If we stop, we're cannon fodder for the marauders."-

-"I'd rather deal with marauders than a catastrophic vehicle failure,"- Altaa replied, adjusting the radiation sensors. -"Besides, the tank's armor is designed to withstand ballistic hits, not to deal with prolonged geomagnetic storms."-

Batu, the pilot, sighed from his seat as he focused on the slow pace of the tank. -"You're both right. But if we want to survive, we need to find somewhere more stable. According to the map, there's a canyon three kilometers to the east. We could take shelter there temporarily."-

-"If we get there before those lunatics get to us,"- added Saruul, the biologist, as he adjusted the laser rifle he carried on his lap.

The Gobi Desert Marauders were groups of survivors who, after the collapse of civilization, became hostile raiders and nomads. These wandering clans, descendants of former refugees and inhabitants, were organized into violent tribes that attacked any expedition in search of resources, fuel and technology.

Dressed in makeshift clothing to withstand sandstorms and radiation, they used adapted vehicles and rudimentary weapons to ambush their victims. Some marauders believed in ancient prophecies and viewed the expeditionaries as intruders on sacred lands, while others acted only out of sheer survival. Their presence added constant danger to the Altaa team's journey, forcing them to remain vigilant at all times.

The tank veered eastward, its heavy frame struggling against the blasts of sand that pelted it like bullets. Soon the first signs of the marauders appeared: small flashes on the horizon, as if someone were lighting matches in the dark.

-“Is that…?”- asked Oyun the drone pilot as he adjusted the visor on his helmet.

-“Yes,”- Batu confirmed, examining the radar. –“Five… no, six vehicles approaching. Looks like they’re using dirt bikes.”-

Enkhee swore under his breath. -“They’re fast, and we’re an elephant in this tank. If they get too close to us, they might try to force their way through the hatches.”-

Altaa stood up from his seat and checked the automatic weapons mounted on the tank. -“Are the turrets operational?”-

Saruul nodded. -“Yes, but the storm is interfering with the accuracy of the targeting system. We will have to fire manually.”-

-“Then prepare for a surprise,”- Oyun said, with a tight smile.

The marauders appeared like spectres through the curtain of sand, their bikes illuminated by makeshift spotlights that bounced with their movement. They shouted and fired bursts of crude weapons, which, although ineffective against the tank's armor, created an atmosphere of chaos.

-“To arms!”- Altaa shouted, as the first of the marauders got close enough to try to throw a magnetic grenade towards the tank’s wheels.

Oyun reacted quickly, firing a burst from the top turret. The impact caused the marauder to flip his bike, throwing him into the sand. -“One down!”-

Batu maneuvered the tank with precision, trying to shake off another attacker who had managed to jump onto the back of the vehicle. -“We have company up there!”-

-“I’m coming for him,”- Saruul said, drawing his plasma pistol and climbing through the rear hatch. From inside, Altaa could hear the scuffle and screams muffled by the sound of the engine and the storm. Seconds later, Saruul returned, covered in sand and sweat, but unharmed.

-“We have no more company,”- he said, slamming the hatch shut.

Altaa took advantage of a brief moment of calm to explain what was happening with the extreme weather in the Gobi. -“These magnetic storms are the result of the South American anomaly,”- he said, looking at his companions. -“The reversal of the Earth’s magnetic field has not only affected compasses and telecommunications. It is also creating imbalances in the ionosphere, which generates these unpredictable geomagnetic storms. And here, in a desert with little conductive material, the effect is even more intense.”-

-“Does that explain why everything here seems... alive?”- asked Enkhee, pointing out how the dunes seemed to move under the effect of the gusts.

Altaa nodded. -“The sand is electrically charged. It’s as if the particles are dancing to the rhythm of the storm. But that also means our systems are under constant pressure. If we don’t find shelter among the dunes during the crossing, even this tank could succumb.”-

After a couple of days of traveling and dodging unexpected storms, the team arrived at the Khongoryn Els Dunes.

Inside the tank, the expedition members discussed their theories. Altaa looked out at the dunes stretching to the horizon while his colleague Oyun spread out a holographic map on the central table.

-"According to the legends,"- Oyun began, tracing a spot on the map with his finger, -"The Dragon's Mouth should be right here. If the ancient nomads were right, that entrance will lead us directly to a network of tunnels that connects to the reactor. Or… to what's left of it."-

-"And the guardians?"- asked Enkhee, the cartographer who did not take her eyes off the proximity radar. -"If the legends are true, what the hell are they? Some kind of defense system? Robots? Living creatures?"-

-"They could be ancient AIs, designed by Shambhala to protect the core,"- Altaa replied, as she adjusted the coordinates on the navigation panel. -"Think about it. If this civilization was as advanced as we think, they probably built systems that could manage themselves for thousands of years."-

-"What if they weren't robots?"- Batu, who was piloting the tank, chimed in. -"Stories say the Guardians 'talk to the heavens and see into the soul.' What if they were biotechnology? Something more… organic."-

Enkhee smiled with some irony. -"Sure, as if we were going to meet a real dragon guarding the entrance. What's next, magic?"-

-"Whatever,"- Altaa said, her gaze fixed on the tank's armored window, -"those guardians are there to make sure that only those with a righteous purpose arrive. Or perhaps, only those who know how to fix what they left behind."-

The Gobi Desert stretched out like a golden ocean beneath a grey, electrically charged sky. The dunes seemed to move with a life of their own, sculpted by winds that whistled like an eternal lament. From time to time, the tank passed by remnants of ancient structures, perhaps outposts or monitoring stations abandoned during the years after the global catastrophe. Occasional magnetic storms lit up the horizon with violet flashes, as if the sky had been torn apart.

Eventually, they reached the shelter of the canyon. As they climbed down, the dark rock walls offered some protection from the constant storm, and the team was able to take a breather.

-“Wait,”- Batu said, as he inspected the canyon walls. -“See that?”-

Everyone looked where he was pointing. There were markings carved into the rock, intricate patterns that looked like spirals and converging lines.

-“Is this…?”- Enkhee muttered.

Altaa stepped closer and ran her hand over the markings. -“It could be. Legends speak of symbols that mark the entrance to Shambhala. If this is what I believe, we are closer than we imagined.”-

-“But if we are close,”- Oyun said, adjusting his rifle, -“the guardians could be there too.”-

-“Then we better be prepared,”- Altaa replied.

As the team organized to explore the canyon, the storm began to subside, as if nature itself were granting them a respite. But the feeling in the air remained eerie, as if something was watching them from the shadows of the desert.

The radio signals were now so strong that they sounded like a constant hum on their equipment.

The proximity radar beeped. Enkhee tapped the control panel with a firm hand and examined the data. -"Something is thirty meters ahead. It doesn't look like a natural obstacle."-

The radar image showed a circular shape under the sand, too symmetrical to be a rock.

Enkhee deployed a terrain scanner and found something extraordinary: a huge circular metal structure buried beneath the dunes, covered by millennia of sand.

—“It’s artificial,”- Enkhee confirmed in a tone of astonishment. -“And it seems… intact.”-

—“How can something like this survive here for so long?”- Oyun asked, suspiciously.

—“If it is what I think, it is a system designed to last,”- Altaa said.

-"Is it possible that…?"- Saruul muttered, but Altaa interrupted him.

-"Wait. It could be a vestige of the underground transportation system. Or even… a sign that we're close to the Dragon's Mouth."-

The team climbed out of the tank, protected by suits reinforced against the effects of the residual magnetic field. The dunes were soft, but cold to the touch, as if the earth itself were holding a secret. Batu used a frequency scanner to analyze the buried object.

-"It's metal,"- he confirmed. -"Probably a structure. Maybe one of the entrances we were looking for."-

-"If this is what we believe,"- Altaa said, her voice thick with emotion, -"then we are closer to Shambhala than we think. But we need to be cautious. If the Guardians do exist, we cannot risk activating anything we do not understand."-

As they slowly dug around the buried object, the conversation became more speculative.

-"If the Guardians are advanced AI,"- Oyun said, -"how will they judge us? By our intention? By our actions? What if we fail the test?"-

-"If it's biotechnology,"- Enkhee added, -"what if it's not friendly? What if they consider us a threat and react accordingly?"-

Batu laughed dryly. -"Then this tank will have to withstand more than just sandstorms."-

-"Whatever it is,"- Altaa said, her eyes fixed on the monitor displaying the unearthed object, -"Shambhala left this here for a reason. If it really is an entry point, it means there's still something left of them. Maybe even something that can help us repair what was broken on the surface. We have to keep going."-

As the team worked, a strange vibration ran through the ground. It was a low, almost imperceptible sound, but enough to make everyone stop.

-"Did you hear that?"- asked Enkhee.

-"Yes,"- Altaa replied as her heart pounded. -"It seems that… we touched something that didn't want to be awakened."-

The tension in the air was palpable as the team continued their work, aware that what they were about to find could change the course of humanity. Or it could be the beginning of a challenge they were not prepared to face.

 

 

Echoes of Tengri

Chapter 3: The Complex

 

The team worked tirelessly under the scorching sun of the Gobi Desert. The magnetic storm had passed a few hours ago, but small electrical discharges still lingered in the air, causing the equipment to crackle. Altaa, covered in dust, watched intently as Saruul and Batu dug around the metal structure they had found buried in the sand.

-“How can something like this be out here in the middle of nowhere?”- Enkhee asked, making notes on his map. His eyes were fixed on the GPS device, which was beeping erratically, still affected by the geomagnetic activity.

-“If this is part of Shambhala, it makes sense,”- Altaa replied. -“Legends always speak of hidden entrances protected by natural or technological barriers. Perhaps these storms are more than coincidences.”-

-“Are you saying these storms could be… artificial?”- Saruul asked, stopping to wipe the sweat from his brow.

-“It’s possible. If this underground civilization was as advanced as the stories say, manipulating the Earth’s magnetic field wouldn’t be so far-fetched. At least not for them,”- Altaa explained, checking the readings on her spectrometer. -“This isn’t just metal. There are traces of composite materials that aren’t found naturally on this planet.”-

-“Well, then we better find out soon,”- Batu interrupted, hitting the ground with his shovel. -“Because these 'lurkers' aren't going to sit around waiting if they decide to follow our trail.”-

After several hours of careful digging, they finally revealed what appeared to be a circular metal hatch, embedded in the sand like a blind eye peering into the sky. The surface was covered in intricate symbols that glowed faintly when sunlight reflected off them.

-“This isn’t a known language… at least not to me,”- Enkhee murmured, leaning down to inspect the engravings. -“But it has patterns. It could be some kind of symbolic writing, like that used in early ideographic systems.”-

-“Could you decipher it?”- asked Saruul hopefully.

-“It could take me weeks,”- Enkhee said with a sarcastic smile , -“but I suspect we don’t have that much time. I can interpret the general ideas of the messages by grouping the symbols together… that would speed up the translation.”-

Altaa looked at the symbols and pointed to a repeating set near what appeared to be the edge of the hatch. -“If we follow the logic of ancient engineering systems, this pattern could indicate an access point.”-

-“What it indicates,”- Batu added, adjusting his goggles, -“is that we need something stronger than our hands to open it.”-  He pointed to some hinges.

Oyun appeared with a blowtorch and a pair of thermal gloves. -“You said it loud. Here you go.”-

The group stood back as Batu and Oyun worked the blowtorch on the hatch hinges. The hum of the equipment mixed with the clicking of metal being weakened by the heat.

-“I hope whatever’s down there isn’t something that will make you wake up in a bad mood,”- Saruul commented, half joking, while cleaning his rifle.

-“If it is, I hope it’s slow,”- Batu replied, sweating profusely as he continued cutting.

Finally, with a creak, the hinges gave way. Oyun and Batu stepped aside and, using heavy-duty ropes attached to a winch on the tank, pushed open the door or hatch, revealing a staircase that led downwards to a dark tunnel that descended into the bowels of the earth.

-“Does anyone else feel like this is a bad idea?”- Saruul asked, eyeing the opening warily.

-“It's almost always bad ideas that lead to great discoveries,”- Altaa replied, turning on her flashlight. -“And if not, at least we'll have a good story to tell.”-

The team began to slowly descend a metal ladder embedded in the tunnel walls. The walls were smooth, as if they had been shaped rather than dug. Soon, natural light disappeared entirely, and the surroundings were dimly lit by a green and blue bioluminescence emanating from what appeared to be lichens or fungi on the walls and floor.

-“This is impressive,”- Saruul said, picking up a sample of the fungi. -“These species could be the result of bioengineering. Perhaps this civilization used living organisms to light up their structures.”-

-“That would explain why they appear to be 'alive' even after centuries, or perhaps millennia,”- Altaa added.

The group descended in silence for a moment, listening to the echo of their own footsteps in the tunnels.

They continued down the tunnel until they came upon a massive door, flanked by two structures that looked like humanoid statues. The "guardians" mentioned in the legends of Shambhala. Their eyes glowed faintly, and their metallic bodies were covered in engravings similar to those on the hatch.

-“Guardians?”- Enkhee murmured, approaching cautiously.

-“I don’t think those statues are just decorations,”- Oyun said, pointing at one of the guards with his magnetometer. -“Look.”-

The display screen showed that the statues were emitting a weak electromagnetic signal, as if they were in a state of rest.

-“They could be surveillance robots,”- Altaa said.

Batu looked at the door, which had no visible lock. -“How the hell do we open it?”-

-“Let me try something,”- Oyun said, deploying a laser from one of the scout drones they carried. He aimed the beam at one of the symbols on the door, and the structure began to emit a low hum.

-“I think you just woke her up,”- Saruul said worriedly.

-“Perfect,”- Batu said, loading his gun. -“Let’s hope it’s friendly.”-

The door slowly began to open, revealing a vast cavern lit by a combination of bioluminescence and advanced technology. Ancient drones and robots moved silently through the place, as if they had never ceased to fulfill their original purpose.

-“Welcome to Shambhala,”- Altaa whispered, her eyes filled with wonder.   

Before them loomed the reactor: a huge metal sphere suspended by columns of an unknown material, with a network of cables glowing faintly like veins of energy. Surrounding the reactor was what appeared to be a command center, with workstations and consoles reminiscent of a space center, though its designs were unusually sleek and minimalist, almost alien.

Semi-humanoid robots, covered in dust but still functional, moved with precision around the area, some adjusting panels and others performing tasks that were impossible to interpret. As soon as the protagonists set foot inside the reactor, the robots stopped their movements and their luminous eyes turned from a soft blue to a deep red.

-“I don’t think they like us,”- Batu muttered, instinctively dropping his hand to his gun.

-“Don’t do anything impulsive!”- Altaa said as she watched the robots slowly approach. -“These systems seem to be designed to protect the reactor. I don’t think they’ll be hostile unless we do something they perceive as a threat.”-

-“And what do you think they perceive as a threat? Breathing?”- Saruul joked, trying to lighten the tension as he stuck to one of the columns to prevent the robots from surrounding him.

Oyun, who had already launched one of his drones to explore the area, looked at the images projected on his screen. -“It seems like they are responding to our presence. There is a pattern in how they move… It could be some kind of test or evaluation.”-

-“That makes sense,”- Enkhee replied as she inspected a console covered in symbols. -“Look at this. These inscriptions seem to have a connection to the concept of intent. Perhaps they are evaluating whether we are a threat or not.”-

-“A validation system?”- asked Batu, incredulously. -“What kind of evaluation will a thousand-year-old system use?”-

-“A system that protects something invaluable,”- Altaa replied, approaching the console. -“If this reactor is the key to stabilizing the Earth’s magnetic field, its design had to ensure that only people with the best intentions could intervene.”-

As they spoke, one of the robots stood in front of Altaa. Its eyes projected a beam of light that scanned her face. Suddenly, the robot made a mechanical, humming sound and pointed at the console in front of her. A line of text appeared in the ancient language of Shambhala.

-“What does it say?”- asked Saruul, looking nervously at the other robots surrounding them.

Enkhee quickly approached, studying the text. -“It looks like a warning message. It seems to say that the reactor is in alert mode because the fuel is almost depleted. It seems to be… sending out radio signals like distress calls. Those were the Echoes of Tengri!”-

Altaa nodded. -“That makes sense. The radio signals were an alert for someone to come and refuel the reactor.”-

Saruul said –“The magnetic field depends on the movement of molten iron in the outer core. If there is not enough energy to maintain it, the flow stops and the field collapses.”-

-“So what do we do now?”- asked Batu, still alert.

Altaa took a deep breath and looked at the console. -“We need to figure out how to communicate with these systems to find information.”-

The monitors projected diagrams of the reactor and the Earth's core, confirming what they feared: without the proper isotope, the magnetic field would collapse within decades, causing a planetary catastrophe.

-“There it is,”- Enkhee said, pointing to a holographic map. -“The fuel storage chambers are here, in these secondary rooms.”-

Batu frowned. -“It won’t be easy. They’re guarded by security systems that have been intact for hundreds of thousands of years. Not to mention the radiation in those rooms.”-

-“What kind of isotope are we looking for exactly?”- Saruul asked, reviewing the data he had downloaded onto his handheld terminal.

Altaa adjusted her glasses and studied the data. -“From its composition, it appears to be a rare isotope of uranium, perhaps U-232 or something even more exotic. Its half-life is long enough to have fueled the reactor for 300,000 years, but it is now in the final stages of its decay.”-

-“That explains why the system went into alert,”- Oyun muttered. -“But if we can’t get into the chambers, it doesn’t matter if the fuel is there.”-

Batu hit the console in frustration. -“There is no way to bypass the security systems without activating some defense protocol.”-

There was a tense silence until Oyun looked up from his drone. -“Maybe we don’t have to circumvent anything. If a drone comes in and activates it manually, the maintenance robots themselves could do the job for us.”-

-“And the radiation?”- asked Saruul.

-“The levels in there are lethal to any living being,”- Altaa confirmed, -“but a drone could withstand it… at least for a while.”-

Oyun sighed and touched the casing of his most advanced drone. -“This one has the best radiation shielding. If anyone can do it, it’s him.”-

-“But he won’t survive,”- Batu muttered.

-“No,”- Oyun admitted ruefully. -“But if we don’t, the planet won’t either.”-

From the control room, the group watched on monitors as the drone glided through the corridors toward the isotope chamber. Upon reaching the blast door, Oyun guided it precisely to the control terminal.

-“Activate the manual protocol”- he ordered.

The drone extended a robotic arm and connected its systems to the console. For a few seconds, the screen displayed only ideographic-type characters, until a red light began to flash.

-“The radiation is increasing,”- Enkhee warned. -“If the drone doesn’t get it in the next three minutes, it will disintegrate.”-

The cameras showed how the security systems detected the anomaly. One of the defense robots was activated and turned towards the drone.

-“No, no, no, no!”- Oyun exclaimed, desperately maneuvering to evade the robot’s scanner.

The drone fired an electromagnetic pulse, temporarily disabling the defense. With one last push, it managed to unlock the system. The old maintenance robots came to life and began moving the isotope into the reactor chamber.

But the drone was unable to escape. Its casing began to emit sparks and its transmission signal was abruptly cut off.

Oyun gritted his teeth. -“Good job, old friend.”-

The reactor began to glow with blinding intensity as the isotope was introduced into its core. Instruments in the control room indicated that the magnetic field was in the process of being restored.

-“Estimates indicate that it will take several decades for the molten core to recover,”- Altaa said. -“But we have averted disaster.”-

A deep sound echoed throughout the complex. On the screens, lines of text in the ancient language of Shambhala began to flicker.

-“What does it say?”- asked Batu.

Enkhee read aloud: -“Shutdown protocol activated. Restoration completed. Systems off.”-

-“What does that mean?”- Saruul asked, worried.

Altaa gulped.- “It means that the drone not only reactivated the reactor. It also activated the shutdown of Shambhala’s systems.”-

The lights slowly began to dim. The screens went dark. One by one, the maintenance and defense robots ceased their functions and stood still.

 Oyun muttered , -“This whole place… will it go dark forever?”-

-“I don’t think so. It will remain in place for another 300,000 years until the nuclear fuel runs out again. Then the warning signal will be re-ignited and the system will be activated again,”- said Altaa.

When the expedition returned to base at Altan Nur, they were greeted as heroes. The entire world would soon learn their story, but for Altaa, victory felt bittersweet.

In his laboratory, he reviewed for the last time the only sentence that remained recorded on his terminal before Shambhala's total blackout:

-“The reactor system was created to protect posterity. Wisdom is a gift that carries a responsibility for the next generations.”-

He sighed, knowing that his life would never be the same again. He promised himself that he would dedicate what was left of his time to preserving the knowledge of Shambhala and ensuring that humanity would never lose its legacy.

END