Atlas's consciousness finally slipped. His vision tunnelled, the world around him dissolving into darkness.
He was somewhere else.
A city, one long lost to time, loomed over him. Towering buildings, blackened by soot and fire, stretched endlessly into the sky. The air was thick with smoke, suffocating, oppressive. Screams echoed through the alleyways, fleeting and desperate before being swallowed by silence. The scent of iron and ash clung to everything, seeping into his skin like an old curse that refused to fade.
Atlas knew this place. He wished he didn't.
A younger version of himself staggered through the ruins, barefoot and clad in rags. His stomach twisted with hunger, his limbs weak from exhaustion. He clutched a small pouch close to his chest—his only possession, filled with scraps barely worth eating. His breathing was shallow, every step heavier than the last.
Then, the voices came.
"Oi, look at this one."
Atlas stiffened. He turned, met with the sight of three older boys blocking the alley's only exit. Their clothes were better—patched but sturdy. Their eyes were sharp, cruel. Predators who had long since learned that the world favoured the strong.
"Didn't we tell you?" the tallest one sneered. "This is our street."
Atlas took a step back, his grip on the pouch tightening. "I found this first."
The second boy laughed, a rough sound like gravel scraping against metal.
"And now we're finding it for ourselves. Hand it over."
Atlas shook his head. He had fought too hard for this. He wasn't going to let them take it. Not again. Not this time.
But his body was too weak, his arms too frail. When the first punch came, he couldn't even raise his hands in time to block it. Pain exploded in his ribs as he was knocked to the ground, dust rising around him. The second kick sent his pouch flying from his grasp.
"No—!"
The third boy grabbed it before he could, shaking it open and sneering at the pitiful contents.
"Barely enough for a rat. You really thought you'd get away with this?"
Atlas gasped for breath, fingers digging into the dirt. On the cold road. Nobody around. He forced himself onto his hands and knees, his body screaming in protest. He had to stand. Had to fight. But he was just a starving, broken child. And they were bigger. Stronger.
Pain? He had learned pain long before this moment. The bruises, the hunger, the loneliness—those had become constants, things he simply endured. But that day, something inside him had truly broken.
Because as they laughed and walked away, leaving him in the dust, Atlas realized something worse than pain—
Powerlessness.
Meanwhile, in the real world, Atlas's body moved eerily in sync with Shen Xue, his reflexes sharpened despite his unconscious state. Every strike she made, he countered—sloppily, but effectively. But with each clash, his body trembled, his breath becoming more erratic. The energy inside him was no longer just unstable; it was growing.
Shen Xue frowned. "This isn't right."
Layla's eyes widened as she observed him more closely. Then, realization struck.
"Wait… he's not just absorbing it anymore."
Meyu turned to her, panic rising in her voice. "What do you mean?"
Layla swallowed hard. "He's pulling in energy from the environment. Look at the weapons rack."
They turned, and their stomachs dropped. The wooden weapons—swords, spears, staffs—were crumbling into dust, the energy within them siphoned away. But worse, far worse—
Master Daokan stiffened. "Everyone. Hold your Qi."
The masters around the arena exchanged alarmed glances. They could feel it now—Atlas wasn't just absorbing energy from Shen Xue's strikes. He was pulling at the very essence around him. Even their own Qi trembled, as if being drawn toward him.
Yuxe Wuye placed a gentle hand on Meyu's shoulder, sensing her distress.
"It will be fine. Master Daokan will handle it."
But as she said it, her gaze never left Atlas. Because deep down, even she wasn't certain of that anymore.
Then, suddenly, Atlas's body convulsed. A deep, guttural sound escaped his throat as the energy trapped within him reached its breaking point. His veins, glowing like molten lines beneath his skin, pulsed violently. The energy within him, wild and untamed, surged to the surface.
A massive shockwave erupted from his core, the sheer force sending tremors through the ground. The moment his staff struck downward—whether by instinct or fate—the very earth beneath Shen Xue cracked apart. The force carved a deep, jagged rift behind her, splitting the arena floor in two. The ground didn't simply break; it was as if an invisible blade had carved through the stone itself, exposing layers of earth that had remained undisturbed for centuries. The rift extended far beyond the arena, jagged and raw, a terrifying display of uncontrolled power.
Shen Xue's breath hitched. For the first time in the fight, her eyes widened—not out of surprise, but out of genuine alarm. She had been prepared for many things, but not this. Not an attack of this magnitude from someone who had no control over his own energy. Her instincts screamed at her to move, but even she had hesitated for just a fraction of a second before moving away just in time, thrown off by the sheer destruction behind her.
Layla, Meyu, and Yuxe Wuye were caught in the aftermath, the force of the strike sending a powerful gust outward, strong enough to knock them off balance. They staggered back, barely able to stay on their feet as the shockwave rattled the entire arena. Beyond the arena, the shockwave had not gone unnoticed.
In the heart of Jinhai City, merchants and travellers alike paused as the distant sound of the explosion reached their ears. Birds scattered from the rooftops, and the very air seemed to hum with residual energy. The city guards, stationed at the high walls, exchanged uneasy glances. Even the sect elders, deep in meditation within their chambers, opened their eyes as a ripple of unseen force passed through their surroundings.
Meanwhile, within the Imperial Palace of Jinhai, the current Emperor, Jinhai sat in quiet contemplation within his grand chamber, surrounded by his advisors and generals. The shockwave sent a subtle tremor through the air, making the golden incense burners sway slightly. The Emperor's eyes snapped open, sharp and calculating, as he immediately recognized the disturbance for what it was—a release of power unlike any in recent memory.
A moment later, he turned toward one of his royal investigators, his voice calm yet firm.
"Find the source. Immediately."
The official bowed deeply. "At once, Your Majesty."
The Emperor remained seated, fingers steepled together as he stared at the horizon beyond his palace walls. He was one of the few in the world who could match Master Daokan in raw strength and wisdom. And if something had shaken even the heavens themselves, it was not something he could ignore.
Far beyond the Regime of Jin, across the vast ocean, within the towering halls of the underground network in Europe, Emery, seated amidst an array of intricate equations and sketches, felt the faint disturbance as if it were a whisper carried by the wind. His fingers froze mid-turn over a page of old parchment, his gaze flickering toward the horizon.
"Well now" Emery murmured, drumming his fingers against the table. "Isn't that interesting?"