Chapter 3 Whispers in The Green

Morning came slowly, the kind of dawn where the sun hesitates on the edge of the world. Mist drifted up from the valley like breath from a sleeping giant. I hadn't slept, but I felt more awake than I had in years.

We broke camp in silence, each of us watching the valley below as if expecting it to move.

"It doesn't match anything on the satellite maps," Will said, showing us his tablet. The screen showed blank green where the valley clearly existed. "It's like it's been... edited out."

"Or hidden," Samir muttered.

Derek took point again as we descended. The ridge trail was narrow and slick, but soon we stepped off rock and onto soil that felt strangely warm underfoot.

The air smelled different here-like wet stone and wildflowers-but heavier, as though it held its breath.

The first structure we came across was a fallen column half-buried in vines. The stone wasn't just carved; it was etched with precision-spirals, concentric rings, and a symbol that looked eerily like an open eye. I touched it. It hummed beneath my fingertips.

"Careful," Derek warned. "I don't like this."

But I couldn't stop myself. The hum wasn't sound-it was memory. My grandfather's voice echoed in my mind for a second. Just one sentence, like a whisper caught in wind:

"Follow the red stone, and you'll find the truth."

I stepped back, heart pounding.

"What?" Samir asked.

"Nothing," I lied.

We pressed deeper into the valley. Trees grew taller here, older than any I'd ever seen. Their bark shimmered faintly in patches, like mica, and the leaves above seemed to absorb sound. Birds watched us from high branches, silent and still.

Then we heard it.

A faint melody. Like chimes underwater.

We followed it until we came to the lake. It wasn't large, but it gleamed like a sheet of silver glass. At its center was a small island, no more than twenty feet across. On it stood a stone pedestal, and atop that-what looked like an old wooden box.

We stared, transfixed.

"That's gotta be it," Will said. "That's the center."

But there was no bridge. No boat.

"We'll build a raft," Derek said. "But not today. We'll need time, and we need to scout a way out first."

He was right. If things went wrong, we needed a path back.

That night, we camped near the lake, but none of us truly rested. Strange dreams came in waves. I saw fire burning in reverse, shadows moving without sources, and my grandfather's compass spinning wildly, then snapping to a direction: east.

At dawn, I woke to find Samir crouched by the pedestal stone from earlier. He'd etched something into his notebook.

"These symbols," he said, "they're similar to ones found in ancient South American cultures-but older. Much older."

"Are we looking at a lost civilization?" Will asked, with a low voice

"No," Samir replied. "We're looking at something that was never found to begin with."