Atlas’s chest heaved, the cage rattling with each tremor of grief and rage.
The black halo above his head pulsed in sync with his heartbeat, like a cruel drum marking every second of agony.
Ash still lingered in his lungs, the mory of Aurora’s fire burned into his mind. He turned his head, glaring at the shadows coalescing in the corners of the cage.
’Wh...what happened?’ he demanded, voice raw and shaking. ’Why did I...why did she die and then I wake here? What is this madness?’
The Guide’s presence swirled around him, invisible yet insistent, like smoke that clings to bone.
Its voice was a low hum, rising slowly into clarity. {{{{{{You have seen what few ever will, Atlas. You have been gifted the Beholder’s Sight....}}}}}}"
Atlas laughed bitterly, shaking his head. ’Beholder’s Sight? That...that doesn’t make sense! I died! I watched her burn! I—’ His voice cracked as his fists slamd against the iron bars. ’I watched her die! How can that be a gift?’
{{{{{{Death is but one face of truth, Atlas. Pain another. What you experienced was not your death, nor hers—it was perception, given to you to shape what is to co.}}}}}}
The Guide’s voice rippled like waves across ice. {{{{{{The One Above All and the One Below All forbid ti to be broken. You did not travel. You observed.}}}}}}
Atlas sank back against the cold iron bars, the halo above him burning with black light. ’Observed...? I saw her suffer? What a cruel joke!’
{{{{{{Prophecy is never granted lightly.}}}}}}
The Guide’s voice softened, but carried a weight that pressed against his chest.
{{{{{{You have survived fire, chains, and despair. That is why my powers are sipping into you...finally.}}}}}}
"Finally? You call this finally?" Atlas spat, voice trembling with fury and grief. "I should be screaming in agony, not hearing your riddles! Aurora...she—" His voice faltered, choking on the mory.
{{{{{{Do not let grief blind you, Atlas....}}}}}}The Guide interrupted, the words echoing like distant thunder. {{{{{{She is feisty. She has not left your world, she is alive....}}}}}}
Atlas clenched his fists, the chains cutting deeper into his palms. "She’s ALIVE!" His voice rose, hoarse and cracking.
{{{{{{ Yes, she is indeed ..}}}}}} The Guide replied, its tone asured, almost surgical. {{{{{{Every echo of suffering is a lesson, Atlas. Every scream a note in the song of destiny.}}}}}}
Atlas’s eyes narrowed, rage mixing with despair. "Lesson? Destiny? I watched her burn! She called for ! I... I couldn’t save her! And you—" He shook his head violently, the halo above him flickering with his motion. "—you tell this is part of so grand shit?"
"{{{{{{Do not be arrogant, Atlas.}}}}}}" The Guide’s voice deepened, reverberating within his skull. "{{{{{{Even a prophet is not master of fate. You are vessel, witness, and now...finally...an instrunt.}}}}}}"
"I’m no instrunt! I’m Atlas! I—" His voice faltered, grief striking harder than the chains against his wrists. "I loved her like my own! I...we grew up together! How can I stand here and be told this is gonna happen? "
{{{{{{Love is the forge of your power. Rage, grief, and rcy are its fire.}}}}}} The Guide murmured. {{{{{{Do not mistake what you feel for weakness. These emotions are not chains—they are fuel.}}}}}}
Atlas’s chest heaved. He swallowed, tasting ash and iron on his tongue. "Fuel...for what? To burn more of the ones I care about? To be forced to watch everything I love consud, I will stop it, I will stop it now?"
{{{{{{Perhaps. Perhaps not.}}}}}} The Guide’s tone shifted, low and chilling. {{{{{{You were never ant to protect everyone. You were ant to endure, to see, and to act when the ti is ripe.}}}}}}
Atlas shook his head, desperation clawing at him. "And what if I refuse? What if I...I turn away from this...this fate?"
{{{{{{Refusal is a choice, Atlas.}}}}}}" The Guide whispered, almost sad, almost tender. {{{{{{But know this—power, once awakened, does not slumber. It waits. And it will consu you if you deny it.}}}}}}
The chains rattled again as Atlas leaned back, closing his eyes. Images of Aurora’s eyes, wide and pleading, haunted him. Her lips burned into his mind. Her final scream still echoed in his skull. He could almost feel the heat, sll the ash, taste the tallic tang of her blood. He clenched his jaw, gritting teeth against the rising panic.
{{{{{{You see, Atlas...}}}}}} The Guide continued, voice like a cold wind winding through catacombs. {{{{{{To walk as a prophet is not to walk without pain. It is to endure it, to bear it, and to use it. You are tasting what none else could.}}}}}}
Atlas opened his eyes, glowing slightly with the halo’s black light. "Taste it? You an endure it! My body is weak, my heart is broken, my soul on fire—and you call this tasting?" He spat, every word laced with agony. "I should be dead! I should be with her!"
"{{{{{{Death is not the sa for you, Atlas.}}}}}}" The Guide said, its voice now closer, intimate, almost in his ear though it had no form. "{{{{{{You were given a second chance. Or perhaps...a first chance at true seeing.}}}}}}"
Atlas trembled, the halo above him flaring violently. "Second chance? I’ve already lived, already failed, already watched her burn. This is not a second chance. This is hell. Pure, unending hell."
"{{{{{{Yes...}}}}}}" The Guide murmured. "{{{{{{And yet, through this hell, power flows. Do you feel it? The sipping into your veins? The knowledge that whispers in your mind?}}}}}}"
Atlas clenched his fists tighter, letting the black light pulse across his body. "I feel it...too much...too little...all at once. I’m...so angry, so lost, I don’t know what’s real anymore!...I need to save her..."
"{{{{{{Atlas...}}}}}}" The Guide’s voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere, curling around his thoughts like smoke in a crypt.
"{{{{{{Do you even understand what you are saying?}}}}}}"
"I don’t care," Atlas growled, every word a jagged blade of defiance. "I will save her. I don’t give a flying—" He stopped himself, swallowing the bile of his rage. "I don’t care what cos after. What gods, what laws, what fate says. I will find her. I will bring her back."
"{{{{{{And in saying that, you ddle with fate itself.}}}}}}" The Guide’s voice dropped lower, darker, resonating like wind through a tomb. "{{{{{{Do you realize what you risk, Atlas? Even prophets are not ant to challenge the threads of destiny so recklessly.}}}}}}"
’i don’t GIVE A FLYING FUCK!’
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