Ryker was a small astronaut with a big, brave heart. His helmet was round and shiny. His boots went tap-tap.
He landed near Atlantis. Atlantis was under the sea. The water was blue. The towers were tall. Fish swam past like little kites.
Ryker said, “Hello, Atlantis.”
A Musician swam up. The Musician wore a shell hat and held a tiny drum.
“Boom-boom,” said the Musician, soft and happy.
Ryker smiled. “I like your music.”
The Musician nodded. “I lost a song. A special song. Can you help me find it?”
Ryker was a little shy. Big oceans felt so wide. But he was also brave.
“I will help,” Ryker said.
They swam to a coral street. The corals were pink, red, and gold.
But the street looked dull. Not bright.
Ryker blinked. “Where are the colors?”
The Musician whispered, “A Yeti took them. A sea Yeti.”
Just then—WHOOSH!
A big shadow moved. The Yeti appeared. It was huge and furry, even underwater. It made bubbles with a grumpy snort.
“Mine,” the Yeti rumbled.
Ryker held the Musician’s hand.
Ryker said, “Please. Atlantis needs its colors.”
The Yeti crossed its arms. “Too loud. Too bright. I like quiet.”
The Musician looked sad. “I just want my song back.”
Ryker thought. He was an astronaut. He knew about quiet space.
Ryker spoke gently. “We can be quiet. We can do soft music.”
The Musician tapped the drum: “boom… boom…” like a calm heart.
Ryker added a little beep from his suit: “beep… beep…”
The sounds floated like sleepy stars.
The Yeti’s eyes got wide. Not angry. Curious.
“Again,” said the Yeti.
So they played again. Soft. Slow. Kind.
The Yeti sighed. “I took the colors because bright things made my head feel buzzy.”
Ryker nodded. “That makes sense. We can help.”
Ryker opened his astronaut bag. Inside was a small tool: a glow dial.
He turned it down. “See? Gentle light.”
The Musician played a gentle tune.
The Yeti’s shoulders dropped. “Better.”
The Yeti reached behind a broken statue and pulled out a round box.
It was a treasure box made of pearl.
Inside were little color lights, like tiny sea fireflies.
“And your song,” the Yeti said. He held up a rolled scroll made of kelp paper.
The Musician gasped. “My song!”
Ryker said, “Can we put the colors back?”
The Yeti nodded. “Together.”
They swam through Atlantis, placing the tiny lights.
Blue on the doors.
Green on the gardens.
Gold on the bridges.
Pink on the shells.
Atlantis started to glow again.
Fish twirled. Bubbles danced.
The Musician played the found song. It sounded like waves saying “shhh,” and then “hello.”
The Yeti smiled. A big, shy smile.
Ryker said, “You can come listen anytime.”
The Yeti said, “And I will not grab the colors.”
At the last tower, the Musician handed Ryker a gift.
A small star-shaped coin made of bright coral.
“For your brave help,” said the Musician.
Ryker held it close. “Thank you.”
Ryker looked at the glowing city. “Atlantis is bright,” he said.
The Yeti said, “And quiet enough.”
They all laughed a little, soft and bubbly.
Ryker’s boots went tap-tap as he walked on a glowing bridge.
He felt proud. He had found a lost song and brought back the colors.
And he had made a new friend, big and furry, in the deep blue sea.