Chapter 70: Flute Song (2)
Swaying... like a ship meeting its waves.
Crashing... like a system failing to operate.
Drifting... like a dream teetering to linger.
The tides are no longer in Atlas's control, replaced in commandment by the music box in his pendant.
The melody ringing in Atlas's head created a symphony of mild yet robust yet soothing orchestra through the performance of a single instrument. Drastically different notes and unique hymns employed simultaneously, as if being composed live by a band of experienced flute players.
The song battled the demon in Atlas's mind, overwhelming yet not in a disheveled manner.
The awakening monster manipulating Atlas's bloodlust retreated step by step back into its shelter, and the consciousness in Atlas regained its composure sedately.
Atlas thrashed and flailed, groaning like an injured beast. The nearest resistance stumbled back in fear, frightened that they'd be the next target to brutally die.
Atlas's hands wrapped over his temples as a grueling war raged inside his head, the bloodlust and sanity in his eyes racing to be the victor.
Nova enclosed Atlas, looking for a safe opening to calm him down in his current state. He noticed the chaos in Atlas's eyes as the crimson veil around Atlas flickered into oblivion and back to existence.
For some reason, Nova could hear the pattern and strength of the conflict within Atlas. It sounded very familiar.
In closer observation, it was at the exact time when the sanity in Atlas's eyes grabbed the upper hand with the aid of the unknown melody.
At this very moment, a wave of drowsiness washed over Nova, hypnotizing him to fall into a deep slumber. Despite his seasoned mental spirit, his eyelid began drooping down, half covering his golden and black pupils.
But because of his strong will, Nova came to a sudden realization almost instantly, pinching himself hard enough to keep him awake for a while.
[The rhythm of the chaos... is that?] Nova made further speculations as observed a subtle pattern.
"Louis." Nova called out, signing a peace sign to show that the coast is clear, and also that Atlas is safer to approach. The rest of the crew understood Nova, marching to encircle the resistance, preventing them from fleeing and escaping the consequences they must face.
"Yes sir." Louis jogged to Nova, his mustache bouncing up and down majestically. With the resistance scared to death, he's not afraid about whether one of them might pounce out to attack or not. "What do you need of my assistance?"
"Just wondering..." Nova scrubbed his hair. "Can your body act as a speaker? For example, if I play a song on this phone, is it possible if you turn on the volume with your body as the vessel?"
"Mamma Mia! Of course I can. Those bastards use me as a speaker just for celebration and parties to save money from purchasing speakers! It's a disgrace to my ability..." Louis pressed his finger tips together, complaining in a thick Italian Mario accent in indignation. His mustache wobbled dangerously as if it were about to fall off just from too much hand movements and gestures.
"Great." Nova took out his phone, disconnecting the wireless function. "I need you to try this one."
Mildly bewildered, Louis received Nova's phone and cupped his hand over the audio speaker. "You can run through your playlist now for whatever shenanigan you're doing."
Louis suddenly felt undeniable danger encroaching him, but Nova dragged him away in time. Atlas toppled on the ground where Louis stood, skin red and veins bulging. His extremely taut body literally earthquaked tiny fissures beneath his knees as if weighed down by tons of mass, trembling uncontrollably.
"It's not a shenanigan. It'll cure him." Nova clicked the song he recorded down back in the mansion.
His golden eye shone with confidence.
As his voice faded, a relaxing melody of flute artistry resounded from his phone. In contact with Louis's physical skin, the melody modulated without a speck of fuzz, performing with perfect acoustic quality.
The melodic instrumentation filled every room in the air, spreading its bewitching enchantments and unyielding intoxication. It's hypnotic quality worked like a charm as one of the, and also first member of the terrified resistance forgot the meaning of fear, slumping onto the ground drowsily and releasing a fatigue snore.
Luckily, no one took the time to laugh at his silly behavior, because bodies began dropping onto the ground, turning the arena that was meant to be a bloody battlefield into a slumber party carpeting with sleeping bags, men snoring and drooling on other men.
Louis, the closest vessel who's conducting this enchanting melody in absolute near range, started to succumb to the voice telling him to take a sweet little nap. He yawned, providing an extra and alternative route for an increase in volume once again.
By now, Atlas has ceased his painstaking struggle, and instead is panting in relief, uncurling from his ball position from when he was resisting the chaos in his mind.
His stained hand still had red dripping down, trailing to a heart a few steps away that has stopped beating, ended from its misery.
"What's going on... my head hurts... oh hey, Is that you Nova?" Atlas squinted his stressful and reddened eyes, blurringly seeing a faint figure of Nova. "I think I'm gonna pass out for a second..."
With that said, Atlas's forehead banged onto the solid floor. But the possible concussion did not matter to Atlas at the moment, for as he has drifted into sleep, dreaming about a pair of warm, big hands playing the flute as it ascended to the sky, straying further away from him.
Louis has fallen victim to the flute music's magic too, lying in the floor and sucking his mustache in his sleep.
Even though the process has cut, the flute composure and the invisible tune in Atlas's pendant has synchronized without anyone's acknowledgment. All Nova knew is that it's ability remained lingering in the air, chanting a lovely lullaby in his ears.
He felt an urge to embrace peaceful Mother Nature as the soporific effects slowly but successfully took control of his brain. Nova bit his lips weakly to withstand it, watching nonchalantly until the very last person of the remaining resistance went down toppling.
Then, he shut his eyes.
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Strolling along in this wasteland of hundreds of napping and snoring men and Warriors, Blade quietly confirmed the status of each and everyone of them in his typical bland facial expression.
In one corner, there is a group of unfamiliar faces tied up in a bundle, beaten up in bruises and tiny cuts.
There are a few 'smart asses' who think they can get away later after hiding in secret spots. They sneaked out after an hour when all commotion has paused, dumbstruck to witness a room full of sleeping men and bumped straight into a young boy with an emotionless face.
And then, these muscular grown men were beaten up by a 13 year old child.
Blade hugged his blade, walking out to the exit where Serpent and Blackbear were guarding the vehicles.
He silently told them the news, and both of them immediately rushed inside to lift them back out.
Blade glanced up at the beautiful moon tonight, his unpredictable eyes imbuing a sharp zap of shock.
According to his teacher, although he is not a gifted, he bears an even greater gift — a special body. Pure of heart, was it called? Blade shook off those thoughts. He is born immune to these little tricks and illusions, but what he experienced back there, if it weren't for the cool and refreshing showers from his heart, he would have fallen asleep along with that anonymous flute composure.
If a mere and less effective recording of it can efficiently affect a whole army of men, imagine what the unknown composer of this magical phenomenon can achieve.
Blade shivered, hugging his blade even tighter. The world is bigger and more complicated than he thought.
A refreshing sensation geysered up his mind once again. Blade immediately returned to his emotionless face, continuing to stargaze as a gust of night wind fluttered his black hair.
But really, how powerful is the person who created this beautiful masterpiece?