(Ti-Stilled World, The Periter of Castle Bravo, Leo's POV)
Once Leo realized that he could potentially pull this mission off, he turned into a man possessed, as he began obsessing over every little detail of the plan to ensure that it was flawless.
For the next few days, he spent every waking minute shadow-executing the heist in his mind— running through it again and again, until he could visualize it down to the smallest twitch of muscle.
He planned everything, from where exactly he would plant his feet to the precise points where he'd trigger [Stormflash Traverse] to shave off milliseconds of travel ti, as he overlooked nothing.
He asured every distance with surgical precision, morizing how long it took to cross each segnt within the courtyard, counting every single step from the breach to the altar and back until the sequence beca a mantra, echoing through his dreams.
He tid everything.
Exactly 18 seconds to slip through the outer breach, crawl beneath the archway, and activate the teleportation gate, assuming he didn't stumble or freeze.
Then 12 more to sprint across the courtyard, hug the far-left pillar, and reach the entrance to the altar hall.
Once inside, he assud that he needed about 10 seconds to grab the Origin tal.
0.2 seconds to trigger [Storm Flash Traverse].
And another 1.1 seconds to reach the teleportation gate and escape.
The margin of error was nonexistent, because he had no idea whether the priest and the guard would ignore him? Or would they try and stop him once he touched the tal.
As although it took 70 seconds for Zharnok's soul to stir awake, those two were entirely different problems.
One misstep, and it could all be over for him, which was why he needed to ti this to heist perfection and leave nothing to chance.
So he did exactly that, and drilled the entire routine into his muscles until thought was no longer required and his limbs could act even if fear hijacked his mind.
He re-morized the terrain as if it were a sacred scroll.
The loose gravel near the fourth column.
The fractured tile by the teleportation base.
The slightly elevated stone slab near the threshold of the central hall—just high enough to catch a toe and ruin everything.
He catalogued every hazard, every nuance, every inch of that cursed courtyard—so that when the mont finally ca, there would be no hesitation, no surprises, no fate left to chance.
As by day 40 of 42, he was absolutely prepared to carry out the plan.
—-----------
(The next day)
One day before the heist, Leo decided to eat like a king.
Not because he wanted to celebrate.
But because deep down… he wasn't sure if he'd still be alive to enjoy food again tomorrow.
He gathered the finest ingredients from his storage ring—sealed packets of smoked at, half-dried herbs from his supply stash, a rare block of preserved cheese he had been saving for an ergency and began preparing them over a small fire.
He even went as far as to bring out the only mana infused wine bottle that he had brought to this world, the kind that ward the chest and cleared the mind.
As for the first ti since entering the Ti-Stilled World, he took his ti cooking and not just reheating dry food over a tiny fla or biting into ration blocks between drills.
He set-up an actual campfire, which he put together using slow-burning logs from the dreamwood grove, as he carefully roasted the at over it, until the edges crisped and the fat sizzled, before adding so sliced roots and crushed herbs for enhanced flavor.
He then plated the al on a steel tin, sat cross-legged beneath the roots of his vantage tree, and ate slowly— like the taste of the al actually mattered.
Every bite he took was deliberate. Every chew, thoughtful.
As though his body knew this might be its last supper and wanted to savor the world one final ti.
The food ward him. Steadied his hands.
But it didn't silence the storm in his chest.
Because although Leo was confident in what he'd prepared, and knew he had done everything within his power to set the board in his favor— he also wasn't delusional.
He understood the risks of this mission.
He knew that the margin for error was so slim it might as well not exist.
As he knew that even in the best case scenario, the odds were stacked against him at a 70-30 ratio.
To be fair, it was not a terrible ratio, but it wasn't good enough either, as the chances to fail were still significantly higher than those to succeed.
On one hand, he had morized every escape vector, trained every motion to perfection, and eliminated every visible flaw from his plan.
While on the other hand, he still did not know if the priest could sense movent once the altar was disturbed, or if the silver armored guardian would awaken once the teleportation gate humd to life.
As if any of those things happened even a few mili-seconds earlier than expected…
There would be no second chances.
Just a quick trip to the afterlife.
*Sigh*
Leo exhaled slowly through his nose and glanced up at the gray skies above, that looked as washed out, dull, and lifeless as the world around him.
'I'm doing all this just to see you again,' he thought, the mory of his family steady in his mind, as it grounded him in purpose, and reminded him once again that failure was not an option.
*Sip*
He lifted the tin cup of warm mana wine to his lips with a steady hand and drank without hesitation.
"I've done all I can," he whispered into the stillness, letting the words settle into the silence like a quiet promise.
"If I die tomorrow, at least it won't be for a worthless cause."
There was no fear in his voice.
Only resolve.
As when he finally lay back against the cold earth, blade within reach, cloak drawn over his chest like armor rather than comfort, he did not close them as soone fleeing from what lay ahead.
But rather as a man who was ready to face what was to co next.
Because he knew, by the ti he woke again, it would be ti to steal from a god.
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