Metrics Of Ragnarok

To Think Like A Beast

Atlas had a heart attack, a stroke and a seizure all at once.

He had lived in the slums once, and it wasn't a good experience.

"Fear not, lieutenant. We have employed the best of currently available human resources and services to see that it is refurbished to greater splendor in good time," said Achilles' pupil.

The room went quiet and motionless. No one here knew how to translate bullshit to regular English.

'What a sesquipedalian.'

Atlas shrugged off his pain and took the IV needle out of his hand, standing up even when he had been told to rest.

He needed to get back home, for obvious reasons.

As he attempted to walk out, he suddenly remembered, and then turned. "Since when did the hospital become a graveyard?"

"It isn't," replied someone Atlas had not cared to know who they were.

"So why did I have to wake up next to a dead person?"

"Her death was sudden. We haven't been able to conduct the ceremonies required of us before burying her," the young man replied.

"Ceremonies? Who is she then?"

"The medicine priestess."

Atlas turned again, looking at the body with slight reverence. "How did she die?"

"By the hands of lord Achilles..."

Atlas stared incredulously. "Achilles, sorry, lord Achilles killed her?"

"No," Achilles' pupil said. "His corruption laid waste to her. She was exposed to the vileness too long, too often."

Atlas was concerned now. "If that's true, then he is probably far gone already. His sickness must be–"

"Pretension? No, it isn't," said the pupil. "Lord Valor is steel-willed; he is still who he is..."

"... barely," completed Kael.

Among the few gathered here, only three of them had faced corruption before. But even the other two would not remember how vile it truly was, because they only remembered the last attempt.

"We need to start preparations immediately: guns, bombs, we need them in stock."

Matthew sighed. "We've used through almost all of the reserves. And the kingdom guards sent to get some imports... didn't make it back."

"Then you'll have to pick up from where they left off. Take as many people as you need, avoid casualties and return as quickly as you can."

Matthew nodded first, deemed it inadequate, then saluted sharply. He, as well as many others, had started to respect him again, especially after the MacMillan fight.

Then, with a little help in the form of support from Achilles' pupil, Atlas made his way out of the hospital.

As he walked through the hallway, he looked through the windows and saw. The hospital was a mortuary now, filled with sheets covering bodies.

The pupil saw where he was looking. "Potentially another hazard; they exhibited plague symptoms."

Atlas frowned. "So for that reason, you got them murdered?"

The pupil shook his head. "I do not possess such authority to command execution of such a task. Besides, I simply viewed it as putting them out of their misery."

"Yeah. It was."

***

Where his home used to be, it now looked like a construction site. It seemed like they had been ordered to make a replica castle for Atlas, but he didn't fancy the idea.

Living big had never been his style. He just wanted to be comfortable, and this wasn't it.

The crew had been nice enough to set his valuables–like his LOG book and box of 'survival'– aside. They offered him greetings as he walked by, which he responded to with curt nods.

A few hundred metres away lay the dying place of the MacMillan. The crew had dug up the beast from the collapsed ridge and taken it apart.

Its teeth were used to make a small knife and a necklace, which went well with the coat made from its fur, both of which had been bought by a very rich man.

Atlas laughed quietly. Only a fool would keep holding on to riches.

But he had taken a lot out of Achilles' treasury, so what did that make him?

'A hypocrite.'

Atlas entered the elevator– which was a system that used weights to drop or raise the shaft– which had been made to allow the crew to have easy access down the ridge during digging, and dropped down.

The unused mines and tripwires were being disabled, as well as the taut razor wires.

He looked around. Somewhere around here, he had thrown his dagger at the MacMillan, but it had swatted it away. Now he needed to find the dagger.

His axe was always a better alternative, especially since it was what he had been taught to fight with, but sentiments wouldn't let him simply abandon the dagger.

He raised every rock and ice block he could, and dug meters into the snow at points he believed it would have landed, but nothing.

Then.

"I thought you were still in the hospital. I wasn't expecting you so soon; hence, I haven't finished cooking."

"Damn..."

Hope shrugged and lazily floated over him, swimming on air. "You looking for something?"

"Yes, my dagger."

"It was yours?" she asked, suddenly looking a bit serious.

"Yes, did you see it?"

"Kind of. I'm using it to cook; you don't exactly have a spoon in your house. But don't worry, I washed it," she replied with a grin.

Atlas was baffled, but he couldn't complain. She was right about the spoon matter.

" Anyways, the walls of the castle have turned into flesh; his domain is almost complete," she said, staring squarely at Atlas.

"That quickly?"

"Yeah. And I suggest we begin evacuation. Unless you are planning to use people as cannon fodder."

"Ah, hope that's dark... even for me. And I can't do anything. The reason for the latter is obvious, but I can't evacuate them either, because going to the next kingdom would take at least ten days on foot, and with the older fellows, almost two weeks.

By then, it would be too late, and he could as well hunt us. If that happens, we won't have the advantage of planning."

"So what do you intend to do?"

"Lock him up in his own castle and rain the unholy upon him. I've already sent Matthew to go get more supplies."

Scepticism crept up her face. "That doesn't sound... detailed or um, like a real plan."

Atlas shrugged. "To defeat a beast, you have to think like a beast."

"Where is the logic behind that?"

"Exactly."

She chuckled softly and tenderly placed her hands on his shoulder. For a moment, they just stared into the distance.

Then she floated back. "I should probably go check on the food."