"OK, OK." That's all I said when I was asked to tell this story. Yet, between these two words, lies a twelve-thousand-year-old secret. My name is Liang. Courier. Invisible man. The one who delivers packages whose contents no one must know. And here's what I found in the mountains: Caves that shouldn't exist. Dug into a rock as black as obsidian, too smooth to be natural. Bodies that shouldn't survive. Giants four meters tall with golden hair, amber skin, eyes as big as saucers. A science that shouldn't work. Singing crystals, walls that bleed light, black boxes that dream. The Chinese call them "Project Gaurishankar." Tibetan monks whisper "the Guardians." Me, I called them... my nightmare. Because these Atlanteans are not dead. They are sleeping. And their eyes are beginning to open.