Pillar of Light

In the tapestry of fate, the original sin emerges as the most burdened thread.

Within the pillar of the divine light lies only tragedy.

In its beauty, the light stands as a paradox—a beacon of hope and a harbinger of despair. Its glow draws seekers and wanderers, its secrets whispering promises of redemption.

Do not fall towards the temping light, for that is the heaviest sin.

—

Everything seemed to be in a haze, and at some point in time, his bones seemed to have grown numb as well to everything around him. He couldn't feel any pain…not really.

In this daze, he could have sworn he felt himself being dragged and moved across the grimy floor. He felt as if he was lifted and placed roughly against a cold surface.

It was very cold, and it was as if he was now lying in the middle of Antarctica.

Did someone put him to bed? He had to say, it was one of very poor quality. Not only was it cold but also uncomfortable.

Whoever moved him should have just left him there. It wasn't comfortable, but it was warmer than here.

It was then that he realized he was starving. When was the last time he ate?

Letting out a light hiss, he tried to reposition himself in a more comfortable position but found that he couldn't move at all. Everything felt weak and hazy.

Was he sick?

Well– whether he was sick or not, right now he wanted pudding. Some creme pudding, he figured, would hit the spot right now. He deserved it, after all, he went through a lot. Perhaps he should call a butler and beg them to sneak into the kitchens and bring him one.

He'll bribe them, they wouldn't refuse such a deal– right?

He tried opening his eyes but found it very hard to. It was as if they were sealed shut as if telling him that it was better to just keep them closed.

Squinting slightly he could eventually make out very blurry outlines. Then there was a bright light that seemed to be shining down on him, it moved closer and closer– as if it was reaching out a hand, offering, and opening.

It moved closer to the point where Atlas's vision could finally focus on the sight more clearly, he could see…stains. Blood stains.

In an instant, Atlas eye's shot open as he swung his arm forward, intercepting the knife moments away from stabbing his heart.

The ornate knife wavered, mere inches above him.

Atlas, with his hold still on the hand holding the knife, stared up at a familiar but battered face.

"Oh! You're awake," Davian said with a smile as he looked down at Atlas, who could feel his grip on the knife tighten.

"D-amn psychopath," Atlas mumbled through his dry throat, his voice wavering from trying to keep a hold of Davian's hand to prevent the knife from falling.

"You know~ I really didn't think you could still be alive. Tenacious aren't you?" Atlas could practically hear his irritation.

What was he doing here? How did he get here? Immediately his mind seems to have fed him answers.

Salem. He had pushed him back into the collapsing section to die, and the worst part was he couldn't even fight back! Hell—he was weak, so incredibly weak then…and now…

Defending them all for what? Ungrateful bastards…

"So determined to survive. Phases me. Do you think your friends are going to save you? Hahaha! Yes, hope is good I suppose," he looked towards the collapsed wall, "And I love the expressions people make when they realize it's worthless."

Davian's hold on the knife seemed to strengthen as the knife dropped down a few inches closer, intently on killing him.

A laugh started bubbling in Atlas' throat, threatening to escape as he stared up at the knife. Them? Save him?

Hell, he bet they wouldn't even want to acknowledge he had saved them. No one would believe them anyway. Not if it's him.

Is this what happens? When he tries to change what has already happened? Something that has already written itself before?

Was the world trying to tell him something?

Perhaps it was mocking him…as it always did.

He felt his eyes starting to water from the strain as he used up the last of his strength to keep the knife from piercing his heart.

'Damn it,' Atlas cursed.

All of this was truly unfair.

So…unfair.

How come while others get rewarded for their feats whenever it comes to him he always gets the short end of the stick? He can't recall a single time anyone has ever praised or rewarded him.

Funny.

Chasing after a childish wish even now.

However, the irony of it all was not lost on him. Isn't that what they'd always taught? Do good, and you'll be seen. Shine and have your moment among the stars.

Look at him, he's about to die and he's only complaining and whining. He felt the edges of his lips tug into a small mocking smile.

He never truly grew up, did he?

Well, he thought, at least he'll go out in a sort of cool way, a knife to his heart, wouldn't that be a story?

The last of his strength faded and he watched fully as the knife plunged downwards.

At first, it was painless. It almost felt like nothing– it seemed to go right through Atlas as if it was nothing but a mere illusion.

Yet the moment it touched his heart he felt it.

Pain.

That was all he knew.

All he had left.

Agony undreamt of seems to attack him from all sides. His insides felt hot as if his very blood had begun to boil. Not even his mind was spared, he wasn't able to form proper thoughts as his mind started to shatter and break.

All that was left was that innate nature to writhe in pain, convulsing on the altar as grotesque noises left his mouth.

Then came the blood, he felt as if he was bleeding from every pore in his body, his hands– his arms– legs– everywhere. So much blood spilled onto the altar.

Amidst the agony, he thought he heard distant laughter. But as his mind teetered on the brink of oblivion, he couldn't be certain whether it was real or simply the heavens laughing down at him.

He then felt himself being kicked off the altar, rolling across the floor before eventually hitting a pile of rubble, his body still twitching.

His eyes looked almost lifeless as he stared without thought at Davian, who stood behind the altar and held up the black card.

"I offer you this, ancient one! I offer you a sacrifice! Lend me your power for our lord," Davian cried out with a crazed expression, his arms wide as he tilted his head backward.

The card then seem to respond to his crazy callings, hovering above the altar as it sucked all the blood Atlas had bled when he was writhing underneath its divine glow.

More of his blood the card continued to consume until there was none left, not even stains. It was as if it had never happened.

"We are your masters, the chosen vessels of your boundless might, join us in hand for our new world."

Atlas continued to stare with an empty look as the card rattled, its silver chains breaking off one by one before all there was left was a normal-looking card at first glance. It had silver runes and markings decorating its corners and in the middle painted a picture of what seemed to be a scale.

And then…there was light.

Such bright light that even Atlas seemed to come around for that second when it was all he could see.

In that second all the mad cravings in Atlas' mind seemed to disappear, and he seemed to have felt what true tranquility was. It was…delicate as if the light was gracing Atlas with that sliver moment of peace.

Atlas wanted to reach out his hand and grab that light for himself, such longing he felt even in his state. Yet he was unable.

Eventually, the light retracted, the angelic feeling of the divine gone as what was left in the altar's place was a long and luminous pillar.

A pillar of pure light.

It stood out, contrasting its unruly environment. It stood apart from the many remains and bodies on the floor, of the ruined floors and walls.

He could feel his eyes starting to close, his eyelids becoming heavy.

The sight of Davian's mad look was all Atlas could see. Davian stared up at the pillar of divine power, a smile so bright as sparks, and its crazed aura began to swirl in intensity around him as the wind from nowhere seemed to ramp up, sending his hair flying in all directions.

It looked oddly divine.

It was then that Atlas heard a voice in his head, a familiar one that he had heard not too long ago.

– Make a deal with me.

It was at that moment everything that was currently happening seemed to freeze. The pillar which had sparks emitting through the air remained suddenly still, as well as Davian's outstretched hands and the crazy directions of his hair.

The rumble that had been shaking on the floor stilled, as well as the many noises of breaking and crashing went quiet.

'..What?'

– I'll save you.

Atlas at that moment could feel his mind slowly getting pieced together, as if being forcefully reattached every time the voice spoke, eventually regaining his ability to think.

It didn't take him long for him to figure out who it was that was invading his mind, 'You're the consciousness from before,'

– Yes. I'm ᛁᚲᚨᚱᛁᛟᚢᛋ.

Again, the name once again seems to cause a spark in his mind, yet he couldn't quite place the exact reason why. Though his mind glossed over this fact once more.

'Why?' was all Atlas could ask at that moment. Why was it offering to save him? It didn't make sense. It had been all so willing to let him die in that fake place not too long ago.

– …

The card remained silent as if debating whether it should divulge their information. Then it spoke.

– I can sense 'its' traces on you. From when I tasted your blood.'

Atlas was taken aback. A part of him wanted to ask what his blood tasted like and the other wondered… 'Who's–'

The next words the card uttered were accompanied by a deafening crash of thunder that shook the very foundations of his mind, interrupting Atlas mid-sentence.

– In return for helping you, child of the universe…

– Something of equal value shall you return.

Atlas paused. Right, yeah. He should have seen this coming.

Nothing is truly free.

– Do you accept my help?

'Wait. What do I have to do?'

– When the time comes you will know what has been traded.

'Tell me now. Or–'

– I'm afraid I cannot tell you.

'Stupid c-' He stopped himself mid-thought, remembering that the 'thing' seemed to have its own consciousness and could read and communicate with him through his mind.

He let his vision drift back to the pillar of light, frozen in time, and then to Davian, who had his mouth open, most likely about to spew out more nonsense.

And then there was–

There was…a hand. It was from the corner of his vision that he could see a hand to the side of him. He moved his eyes slightly and froze at the sight.

It was Kai.

Wait. Why was Kai here?

Atlas felt his mind panic.

Kai was covered in bruises everywhere that he could see, and his skin looked deathly blue.

He couldn't be–

– Do you accept?

The voice pressed him again.

– I cannot keep this domain up for long, my side of the deal is running out.

'Deal? There's another party involved?'

– Not with you, child. Time is not mine to tamper with.

Yet before Atlas could ask what that meant it spoke again, with more urgency.

– Make your decision now. Or you will die here in this place. I will not be responsible.

Atlas drifted his eyes over to Kai's slumped and deadly stilled figure. He knew that it was due to everything around him freezing, but if one were to look at him there was no doubt they would label Kai as dead.

Kai can't die.

Not here.

And himself-? He…he paused for a moment.

He doesn't want to die.

It was then he decided. Perhaps the consciousness knew what he could choose already, from when he first met him in that strange world.

'I've decided.'

– Very well.