Atlas sat near the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, jaw clenched. The quiet hum of magic pulses filled the room, distant but ever-present, like static in the walls. He leaned closer. The bed groaned under the uneven weight sprawled across it.
One hand—massive, oversized—twitched. Fingers splayed unnaturally, pale skin taut like a glove stretched over stone. A leg, just as distorted, hung off the other side of the bed like a misplaced branch grafted to a young tree.
The rest of Loki’s body looked shrunken, almost gaunt in contrast, his breathing erratic but steady.
"...You said he was okay..." Atlas muttered, voice dangerously calm, like thunderclouds before the lightning strike.
A small black sludge unfurled near his shoulder, taking on a vaguely humanoid form, its single eye blinking open lazily. Veil hovered, as if weighing his words.
"You looked busy... And hey, it wasn’t , alright? He told to say that. I was just the—uh—ssenger."
Atlas didn’t reply. He pinched the bridge of his nose, pressing hard. He could feel the heat in his jaw, his tongue restrained from cursing. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze back to Loki.
The boy’s eyes blinked open.
One was bulbous, grotesquely swollen. The other barely opened at all. His mouth twisted into a grin far too wide for the tone in the room.
"Half... half..." he murmured.
"Half what?" Atlas asked gently, though his stomach clenched.
"Half...half..." Loki chuckled again, deliriously. "Did you get it...? Half good... but the other half...hahaha..."
Atlas flinched inwardly.
His friend wasn’t in pain—he was gone?
That laughter didn’t belong to the Loki he knew. It was like the echo of a jester who had seen too much of the void.
His stare slowly drifted to Veil again. No words. Just the stare. Icy. Condemning.
"Bro..." Veil raised his little arms. "You’re looking at like I committed the atrocity. That idiot tried to outwit a literal god. You think I could’ve stopped him?"
Atlas’s lips barely moved. "...Then what happened? Did he hurt his head or what?"
"No," Veil said with a shrug. "Aurora gave him so dicine. I don’t know what happened after. I an, she did say it might... cause side effects...in the head."
"...Aulola...hahaha...aulooooollaaaa..." Loki cackled, drooling slightly from the side of his mouth.
Atlas stood. The floorboards creaked beneath him, louder than necessary. The temperature in the room felt colder suddenly, or maybe that was just him. "Take care of him until I return," he said.
Veil saluted with a sigh. "Like babysitting an arcane landmine..."
.
.
Descending into the dungeon had beco a twisted routine.
Each step felt heavier, as if the very stone rembered the weight of consequences. Dim torches lit the passage, casting shadows that danced like silent witnesses on the walls.
The scent of earth, magic residue, and sothing tallic—blood, maybe—lingered in the air.
At the end of the corridor, Eli was sprawled on a velvet-covered sofa, as if waiting for a lover returning from war.
She jumped up the mont she saw him. "Took you long enough! Co inside, co inside~"
He didn’t answer. Just a small wink—reflexive, even now—but he ignore her for a mont, walking towards Aurora.
"—what the hell?! Atlas!" she yelped,
"Later Eli....later.," he said without emotion. ". I need to speak with Aurora first."
Atlas flike her forehead as She blinked, surprised by the coldness in his voice.
Aurora was curled on another couch, buried beneath layers of enchanted silk and furs. She stirred as he approached, one eye barely peeking open. "What the fuck...? Why... why again... I just—"
"Loki," Atlas cut in. "We need to talk."
That woke her up.
Eyes snapping wide, she pushed herself upright. "I’ve been aning to speak with you ...about that..."
"Then speak," Atlas urged, standing still like a statue forged in divine rage. "Tell ."
Aurora exhaled. That kind of exhale you do when you want to say sothing, but the truth makes your bones ache. She didn’t want to say. Oh god she didn’t. But her lips moved—
—and then, without sound or cue, rlin appeared through the wall.
It was silent. Like the air itself held its breath for the old mage.
"She won’t tell you...." he said, his robes stirring as if they caught wind in a windless room. "But I will."
Atlas tensed.
"Unlike Aurora and ," rlin began, "who were only grazed a few tis by that... divine storm... Loki took the full blow. Not natural lightning, no—divine lightning. Lightning born from a wrathful god. And worse... he took it willingly."
There was silence.
Thick. Drenched in a slow-burning grief.
Atlas’s hand twitched.
"You want to know why I’ve remained here?" rlin continued. "Because when I was about to die—when oblivion stared back at —your friend stepped forward. A demi god. And stood between and death."
rlin looked ashad. "He saved ."
Atlas’s gaze didn’t leave him.
"...I know I made mistakes," rlin continued. "Grave ones. But I’m not lying when I say this but....Loki cannot be healed."
A heartbeat passed.
Then two.
And then Atlas moved.
He grabbed the old man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly. "I don’t like bullshits, old man. And I have a loose temper. The next words you speak—might be your last."
rlin dangled, not resisting.
"Heh... Stop, Atlas..." Aurora called from the side, casting a simple repel spell.
It shattered on contact.
Not deflected. Not resisted. Shattered, like it had touched sothing it couldn’t comprehend.
"What...?" Aurora whispered.
rlin coughed softly. Still held high, he looked at her and said, "It’s useless, Aurora. He’s beyond the human realm now. No magic. No spell. No force of mana works on him anymore."
Atlas’s grip tightened. "....Last chance."
rlin nodded slowly. "But... there is a way."
Atlas’s jaw clenched harder. His gut tangling. The way this....scene worked. It forced him to rember sothing. Sothing than can heal a divine damage...sothing than bring back the dead...no...no.
’No... no... don’t say it...’
"A cure more powerful than the dicine..." rlin whispered. "...A mythical elixir. Called....
’Don’t say it....Don’t..’ Atlas thought.
...Amrit."
"Fuuucck," Atlas growled, dropping him.
He turned.
"Wait!" rlin called.
"I know what Amrit is!" Atlas barked, spinning around. "The drink of the gods, the cure to all—eternal healing, divine blessing, yadda yadda bullshit!"
rlin was stunned. Aurora too. Her eyes locked with Atlas, then shifted to rlin, shaking her head furiously as if to say she didn’t know.
Of course, Atlas thought. Of course it was Amrit.
He had thought of it before.
He rembered its place in the ga—the mont Lara used it during the mid-arc. It was rare, unobtainable, and the price for even hearing about it was usually blood.
And now... it was the only option.
The walls of the dungeon seed colder now. He could feel the stones mourning with him.
Without another word, he turned and walked up the stairs.
Eli leaned back, watching the fury in his retreating steps. The silence in the dungeon was now thick with tension.
rlin limped back toward the magical prison field, rubbing his neck.
"He’s... sothing else," he murmured.
Eli stared at the ceiling. Her fingers lazily drumd against her thigh.
"That’s why I love him," she whispered. Her palm glowed faintly as it pressed against her own stomach. "You old man."
Atlas stepped out into the surface. The moon was high now, its light pale and detached.
His thoughts swirled like storm clouds.
He hated this. He hated that he couldn’t fix things with his strength. That despite evolution, despite victory, there was still sothing he couldn’t punch, slice, or intimidate away.
Loki. His friend. That idiot with jokes. now he lay half-broken, laughing at shadows.
Atlas stared up at the moon.
"Amrit," he whispered. "Fucking Amrit."
The stars didn’t answer.
He needed to act.
He needed to move.
No more waiting. No more discussion.
Even if it ant walking beyond the Empire. Even if it ant facing gods again.
He would not let a friend die.
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