The opening of the chest caused the rippling actions of his form to resound even further. Beneath the waves a different story was told then the ones the humans were seeing. To them they saw a chest full of treasure. To the woman a journal. To the denizens of the sea below they knew the true story. The phantom that was the guardian stirred. Standing on the sand beneath the ocean waves was a semi-solid form of the guardian. His Atlantian form. Complete with the signature crystal that was a gift from the gods. He looked up. They knew something big was going to happen. He could feel them...the gods. They were watching. It wasn't any of their concern how he did his job. Or how things went down. However, age old jealousies died hard. It wasn't his problem if they hadn't gotten over it yet.<br/><br/>His eyes silver without whites or pupils. Beneath the layers of sands his body began to shift and move in circular motions. Sand slowly beginning to fall from his form. He looked up as he stood in the circle where the chest had been. Shame that he would most likely have to sink that ship. He would try it passively to begin with. "The time has come..." Came his rumbling voice. Rumbling through the water. Fish scattering as they bumped into his semi-solid form. He began to shoot upwards from the depths. His guardian form still sleeping but his phantom form would try to prevent the deciphering of the journal. His awakening would be dangerous to the young humans. Such a pity that he really cared little about who was sacrificed in order to protect Atlantis. Though he was not without mercy. He was not a god of old. He was very, very close to it though. Often feared and hated except by the gods of Atlantis. He was birthed of the gods as were the children of Atlantis.<br/><br/>His phantom self suddenly fizzled out. She had the journal. He would try to get her to not read it. He felt it the moment the journal was opened. As he always felt when artifacts and treasures of Atlantis were destroyed. He reappeared on the ship. Walking through the people like he wasn't even there. He was but a ghost. One who would only appear to those he was trying to stop. The men were not of his goal. His leviathan form causing the waves beneath the ship to become rocky and unstable. He walked through the door to the woman's room. Standing there in a semi-solid form. "You shouldn't be meddling in the affairs of old." Came his powerful, haunting but beautiful voice. He stood there as light flickered off him and showed the silver of his eyes. Eyes that were silver throughout the entire eye. No whites. No pupils.<br/><br/>He walked towards her. "Some things aren't meant to be understood. Some things aren't meant to be found. Sometimes...they don't want to be found." The pages of the book flipped rapidly and the book slammed shut. He faded out for a second. This form was not easy to do very much in. However, it was more able now. "Things not meant to be found have a habit of disappearing." He pointed at the journal. "You risk everything for a mere book. This is a warning child of the young race..." He looked outside. "You bring danger if you decipher what you hold. Secrets are supposed to remain secrets. I will not warn you again. You do not want to awaken...the beast who guards." The beast who guards was the Guardian Of Atlantis. Otherwise known in myths as...Leviathan. He then began to fade out. This was him trying to be nice. He reappeared by her side. His hands holding the area near her head. "Sometimes...things don't want to be found. Give back to the sea what belongs to us." Then he was gone. Vanished from the room without another word. Without another sound. Like he had never been there. With him vanished the treasure that had been within the chest. Part one of retrieval...completed. The chest slammed shut on its own accord. Seemingly at least.