Orientation (3)

As their gazes locked, time appeared to bend, and everything that happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.

In that single, seemingly endless moment, Atlas could hear his steady breathing, the rise, and fall of his chest, and his heart pounding.

A brief moment of calm before chaos erupted.

Bang! Bang!

Time resumed, and Atlas barely had time to curse before multiple gunshots rang out.

"What was that?"

"Huh?"

A student in front of Atlas could be seen turning their head around, looking to see what had caused the sudden commotion.

They tried to calm the others around him, "Guys, maybe it's a technical error?-"

Bang!

However just before they finished his sentence a sudden pressure appeared in Atlas' left leg. He looked down at his bullet hole wound in shock before bending over, the pain finally registering before a high-pitched voice rang throughout.

"An attack!"

Students scrambled, stumbling and climbing over one another in a desperate attempt to escape.

Approximately 800 inexperienced first-year students were in attendance, none of whom had attended a single combat class yet.

In short, most people here were in grave danger.

The facility immediately went on high alert; lights around the stadium turned red, and alarms blared signaling for a breach of security reinforcements.

'Agh!'

The pain in his leg intensified, however, he ignored it, as he always does with his problems. What he needed to do was run away, he'll deal with the wound later.

The previous Atlas had not been present during this attack, he never got shot, having avoided it through sheer luck.

Still, he remembered how it had all unfolded.

'142 injured, 6 dead.'

He had no intention of becoming the seventh casualty.

As he was being swept away by the panicking crowd he strained his ear to hear above the chaos, he could make out the student president trying in vain to issue orders and calm the masses.

It made little difference.

Almost everyone was focused solely on saving themselves.

If any upperclassmen had been present at the stadium, matters might have gone more smoothly. They had been trained for situations like this. But there were none.

Even for experienced staff, battling an onslaught of this magnitude was challenging as gunfire continued to echo throughout the stadium.

Atlas spotted an exit ahead where hundreds of students climbed the stadium stairs. But since the stadium was suspended in mid-air, their only option was going down.

To descend safely they could use either advanced elevators located towards the rear of the stadium, flying mobiles, or airborne boards as alternative means of transportation.

"Get out my way!"

Frustrated by the slow progress, Atlas shoved several students to clear a path toward the exit, including the brown-haired girl with bangs he had encountered earlier. She fell roughly onto a group of others, crying out.

Unperturbed by her fall, he pressed on, pushing through the panicked crowd.

As he stumbled past he heard many cries, shouts, and wailings for help. They pierced his ears yet he continued to ignore them.

Each step meant he was closer to safety, each amount of distance closed meant he was further away from the attack.

'Almost-'

He outstretched his arm toward the elevator door. He was almost there.

There was a pause, a quiet illusion of silence before-

Boom!

In a sudden explosion, the entire stadium shook violently, knocking him off balance.

He stumbled forward, missing the elevator just slightly as the doors closed before him. Pain stabbed through his body,

His vision became unstable for a moment as he tried his best to ignore the stabbing pain.

"Damn it-!"

If not for his injured leg he would have made it.

Resisting the urge to punch the wall but knowing he would likely break his arm before causing any damage, he cast a swift glance behind him.

As students and teachers fought the armed individuals, Atlas noticed that half the stadium wall had been reduced to rubble, which explained the earlier shock.

Not all students chose to flee; a girl with vibrant red hair and a boy with messy dark hair were among those fighting back.

A few others could also be seen with them.

"They must have a death wish," Atlas commented, questioning their decision to stay and fight skilled and experienced opponents. Raya and Kai were exceptions.

They simply were...odd.

Normally, he'd intervene, he needed both Raya and Kai alive, but he knew they'd survive this attack, so there was no reason for him to interfere.

Instead, he needed to save himself. If he didn't survive, how could he use these people to prevent humanity's downfall?

The ground shook violently as if a giant had descended from the heavens. The tremors intensified, causing broken stadium pieces to fly and crash around him.

Thick smog filled the area from the debris.

Off into the distance, another piece of the stadium wall fell, flying and crashing, denting a part of the stage.

"Hurry!" Students could be seen trying to hold onto one another, traversing through the maze and to safety, their faces were pale as their voices shook.

'This is why I needed to get out quickly!'

In the previous timeline, after the initial gunshots, the whole stadium completely collapsed– it was the falling metal and steel from the explosions that caused most injuries and deaths.

Boom!

Another explosion echoed in the distance while screams and gunfire pierced through the smoky haze.

Atlas ran blindly through the smog toward another elevator.

Every step- every force he exerted on himself was difficult, the stinging in his wound grew, painful enough for even Atlas to continue ignoring.

The elevator he sought had already descended, and he knew that by the time it returned, he might already be dead.

'Tsk!'

But at 17 years old and out of shape, he struggled to cover the distance. He hadn't bothered to train because he really had no reason to back then.

But now, wishing he'd at least worked out a bit back then, Atlas pushed himself forward, his hands, scrapped and raw, covered his head, shielding his head from falling debris.

Bloodied cuts appeared on his uniform as he looked ahead.

Suddenly, a piece of metal emerged from the smog, hurtling at lightning speeds toward his left shoulder. Reflexes honed from countless battles kicked in, and he deftly dodged the deadly projectile.

Row after row, he weaved through the debris, dodging and swinging, narrowly escaping some strikes while others slammed into the side of his body. Explosions reverberated through the air, their deafening sound drowning out the surrounding screams.

In the distance, two students struggled, one trapped under rubble while the other desperately tried to free them.

Atlas couldn't hear their words, he didn't want to.

It was a scene all too familiar, reminiscent of the battlefield, and his mind started to tense as memories of past struggles resurfaced.

More explosions rang in his ears, they shook and sounded closer than before, and caused them to bleed, allowing the surrounding screams to fade away.

Now only the sound of his rough breathing kept Atlas company. He welcomed the solitude; it was a nice distraction from the constant reminder that he might die at any moment.

The stadium trembled violently once more, causing Atlas to stumble into a chair as another piece of the stairs flew past him.

Bang!

He activated his only ability card, [Sole Wind], determined to close the distance to the elevator amidst the havoc.

Emerging from thin air, a white card materialized before Atlas, bearing the symbol of a pair of shoes surrounded by intricate wind scriptures. It hovered in front of him, spinning gracefully before suddenly dispersing into faint wisps of energy.

Wind particles gathered around his legs as he propelled forward with incredible speed, maneuvering through the torn-up surroundings.

A bullet whizzed past, barely grazing his shoulder. The adrenaline surged through his veins, heightening his senses as he focused on staying alive.

Amidst the haze and chaos, he caught sight of what seemed to be his salvation—the elevator down. Relief washed over him, and he quickened his pace.

'Thank the gods-!' Atlas began, but before he could finish his thought, a flying piece of unsuspecting debris struck him from behind.

Thud.

Just like that- Atlas fell unconscious, mere inches away from the elevator he had sought.

Shouts, gunshots, and explosions continued to echo around him as the attack persisted.

The ground shook again, causing nearby structures to collapse and conceal Atlas from view.

—

His vision blurred in and out of focus as he pried open his eyes from the realm of the unconscious.

"Watch out!"

Slash!

A sudden explosion resounded through the air as I struck the chest of another demonic creature.

Blood sprayed across my face, as I looked away from the corpse.

I leaned weakly against a barren tree, hoping to shield myself from view and avoid any unwelcome visitors.

I needed bandages for my wounds before I bled out.

Hissing slightly, I unwrapped the blood-soaked cloth around my left leg and applied a fresh one. It quickly became stained, but the bandages did their job.

The situation wasn't as dire as before: the bleeding was now under control.

I sighed in relief.

Good.

Gazing up at the setting sky, I couldn't help but wonder why I was here. Why was I still fighting?

Who would stop me if I just left? I had nothing to prove...did I?

Alas, I did nothing of the sort. My legs wouldn't listen to me.

Instead, I stumbled forward again, re-entering the battlefield with my sword weakly gripped in my hand.

-----

It was dark—pitch blackness enveloped everything around him.

That was all he could see when he regained some semblance of consciousness.

He felt as if he had dreamt something, but the memory had vanished as quickly as it came, leaving him disoriented and uncertain.

'Ah—did I really die?'

'Again?'

Atlas attempted to move, but a sharp pain from the wound on the back of his head made him recoil.

Right.

He had been knocked out by a flying piece of metal.

Wait—if he could feel pain, then—

'I'm alive!'

He wasn't sure where he was, but at least he was alive. However, he couldn't sigh in relief just yet; he had no idea about the current situation.

Where was he?

What had happened?

As these questions surfaced in his mind, he felt a sharp tug before something slid off his eyes.

The blindfold fell onto his lap as he blinked in confusion. The floor was cold, and there were no windows in the dimly lit room. A weak light emitted from a nearby lantern.

'Seriously? Who uses a lantern these days?' Atlas muttered to himself, momentarily distracted by the antiquated light source in the dim room.

The room's dark and quiet atmosphere allowed his eyes to adjust quickly.

'Where—'

Suddenly, muffled noises reached his ears. Atlas turned to see a familiar person trying to say something through their gag, attempting to communicate with the individual who had just removed Atlas' blindfold.

He had messy dark hair and piercing red eyes.

Kai Blackwood.