Mearly

For the first time in a long while, Oberon Enigmalnk wore a troubled expression on his face.

He sat cross legged in the center of a room, surrounded by complex runes etched into the floor and walls, glowing with a golden light.

His gaze was sharp, lit brightly with an intense golden hue, as he focused his full attention on the task at hand.

From time to time, the runes would flare brightly before dimming slightly.

'Why are my assumptions never wrong?' he thought.

Before the Nexus event began, the paragons had gathered for a serious meeting. They were all aware of Atticus's talent and potential and had to discuss the possible repercussions if he were to win the competition.

The chances were slim, but still possible. And they wanted to plan for that possibility.

Oberon had considered multiple scenarios, and each one was as bad as the last. It had been so crazy that there was practically no good outcome.