Blood (2)

He was falling.

Falling where?

This dark vastness seemed to never end.

He remembers falling more frequently than before, was this perhaps a side effect?

There's no use bothering to ponder over this thought any longer.

He'll stop falling eventually.

He always does.

…

Some time had passed, and he was still falling.

He finally opens his eyes after a while, yet when he did the world had turned red.

Red?

He stretched out his hand and felt the red liquid drown it.

Blood.

Clang!

It was then that someone had charged at him from the shadows, a blade materialized in his hand as he blocked the attack.

Atlas was launched across the vastness of this world.

The enemy didn't stop nor hesitate, it charged forwards again coming straight for him.

Again and again, Atlas blocked, and each time the weapon in his hand would break away bit by bit.

For his shoulder-

Clang!

His chest-

Clang!

Sparks emitted each time their blades met and each time more and more blood was sprayed onto him.

He instinctively looked around for someone- anyone-!

Yet he could see no one in this world.

It was just him.

Just him falling as he was relentlessly attacked again and again.

He adjusted his hold on his blade and slashed forwards.

It spurred across the figure's arm yet it left no mark. It was then that the enemy's blade came crashing down on him.

His shoulder-!

Slice!

He kneeled over in pain as he felt blood pour from his wound.

Despite the pain his body didn't stop, he continued using his injured shoulder.

Block.

Block again.

Counter-

Clang!

His vision blurred as a single thought echoed throughout his mind.

Do not die.

You cannot die here.

Not on this corpse filled-land, not in this blood-drenched place!

But why? Why can't he?

In the back of his mind, something seemed to stir, yet it was too faint.

Perhaps he was too prideful. Or maybe the action would have shown him that it had been all for naught.

Glancing at his shrinking hand and his now childlike form he couldn't help but grit his teeth.

Just a kid, donned in the nation's blood-drenched outfit, holding out his sword.

He bit his lips and charged again.

He slashed, and slashed again, ignoring his arms screaming out in agony.

Another- and another.

His sword was then met with steel, he focused in- pressure- more pre-

A powerful blow met his chest and sent him sailing through the void.

'Augh!'

He couldn't breathe…

He couldn't-

His vision started to blur.

He reached out his blood-stained hands.

His sin-stained hands.

No- he couldn't die! Not now! Not here- not-

He opened his eyes, launching forwards as he panted heavily.

He lifted his shaking hand to his shoulder, clutching at it just to make sure. It was whole, there was no wound.

The dimly lit room of the cellar came into view.

Everything was quiet except for his pounding chest.

Right.

No one was charging at him.

He wasn't bleeding.

There was no blood.

'Hah..hah…hahh…'

He focused on breathing as beads of sweat ran down the side of his face.

It went on for quite a while before he finally got it back under control.

He finally looked around, he was still in the same cellar.

He must've dozed off.

Lucky-' he thought, 'Lucky that no one was awake.'

He took steady breaths.

It was another nightmare. He keeps having them more often than not.

The battlefield- the blood.

A stark reminder of what's to come.

He shook his head, now was not the time, he thought to himself.

He needed to focus on the present. Tomorrow, or the day after was when they would get rescued, he was sure of it.

Because that's when Kai's plan will finally be in motion.

He should be heading back to sleep, he thought as he laid back down, the cold floor providing an escape from his thoughts.

Suddenly, he heard a faint noise, and his head snapped to the side.

In the silence of the room, he could discern the tiniest hint of uneven breathing.

Someone was not asleep as Atlas had hoped for them to be.

Carefully getting up, he started to approach the source of the noise, moving slowly and silently.

Hissing as he faltered due to his injured leg, he eventually made it over.

He then stood a few distance away from them.

The tense silence between him and the person who was still trying to cover up their mistake dragged on before Atlas finally huffed out, "I know you're awake."

The person stilled as if contemplating their next move.

Finally, deciding there was no use in faking sleep any longer, they got up. "Ah- hello," Rune muttered in an embarrassed tone.

"Nice nap?" Atlas asked curtly, raising an eyebrow.

Rune tensed slightly but then let out a quiet laugh. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to, uh, intrude on…that."

That confirmed Atlas' suspicions; Rune had been awake during his panic attack.

"I considered going over to you and waking you up…but you had already awoken before I made up my mind," Rune explained.

'Lovely.'

Atlas shook his head, "It was nothing, forget you saw or heard anything."

Rune nodded slowly.

As Atlas turned to go back to his corner of the room, Rune's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait."

Atlas looked back, curious about what Rune wanted.

Was he going to use this moment of weakness against him? Blackmail him, perhaps? Or maybe even take advantage of the situation somehow?

"Can you spare a few minutes? Just a few," Rune asked hesitantly.

"For what?" Atlas asked flatly.

His voice was carried over the short distance, in this room where everyone was asleep and quiet except for two.

"I can't sleep…I guess I wanted someone to talk to."

"Get Kane or Kai," Atlas suggested without skipping a beat.

"I considered that, but they're both asleep, and I know they're tired. Can you—well, you don't even have to respond, or even listen if you don't want to," Rune added.

Atlas hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether he should stay or walk away.

He felt no obligation to sit and listen to a frightened child's ramblings but doubted he'd sleep anyway.

Rune - The student had his arms messed up by Mr. Davian. He had been among the first to volunteer to help Kai and often chatted with Kane.

His affinity had something to do with lightning if he remembered correctly.

He had a weird habit to sway while sitting. Perhaps a reflection of his nerves. Atlas doesn't remember anything much about Rune, all he knew was that they use to share a class.

Yes, he always sat in front of the class and always talked to his neighbors.

He doesn't remember much of him besides that.

Although they may have shared a class, Rune never stood out despite his lively personality. It was as if he had the innate ability to fade into the background.

Atlas watched him staring at the ground, a reminiscent memory surfacing—of when he had first arrived on the battlefield.

So helpless and weak, lying so still that someone thought he had died.

Too afraid to move and too afraid to sleep, he couldn't even breathe.

The sleepless nights for when he would just stare at the tent ceiling. Not wanting to close his eyes or else the bloodshed that he committed or saw that day would continue to replay in his mind nonstop.

For some reason looking at Rune reminded him of that unpleasant memory.

A time that's now become too foreign.

Atlas continued walking until he returned to his corner of the room, his footsteps echoing in his wake.

He lay down on the hard floor and closed his eyes once more. The cold helped drift his thoughts.

He didn't get much sleep that night.