2026-10-04 03:13:00
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Definitely Wrong
The boy was quiet, way too quiet than nature would have of him. Even his steps had an air of shyness, as if begging the winds to cover them up.Speaking of winds, since the rains had fallen, they had been biting, and so many of the kingdom guards had left their posts around the temporary settlement and retreated into the huts.Walking along the paths that the downpour had carved, Atlas felt pity for the child as he shivered. Suddenly he felt foolish for having returned the cloth, even if it was the wiser thing to do at the moment. But still, he wouldn't have cared; it belonged to his aunt.The boy looked up at Atlas, suspicion shaping his eyes. He might have thought that Atlas only came from him at the plea of his aunt, but Atlas had proved him wrong.Noah huffed, shivering as he let out some much-needed warm air. "Okay miste– sorry, I meant Atlas."Atlas straightened up and walked with more purposeful strides. Going back to his childhood, he had always subconsciously behaved like th
Frantic Search
The refugee settlement was disarranged, mostly because of its numbers. Atlas' rough estimate was hanging somewhere between a hundred and fifty and two hundred.And with about twenty people in each, the kingdom– or the people who made it out of it– were three thousand in the very least. But Atlas believed it to be in the neighborhood of five thousand.It was small for a kingdom, barely the size of most villages. But the low population was due to constant wars and low harvest rate, forcing the inhabitants to wisely choose not to reproduce as much.Also, nobody would dare disrespect Achilles to the point of naming his abode a mere village.Maybe then though, not now. The scene he beheld very much looked like a village, and not even a good one. Disregarding the environment, the structures were too rickety.Due to the large number of people and lack of adequate materials, most of the huts had been made with anything available, and spread out to accommodate a good number. Hence, the rains h
Unwelcomed Acquaintance
Atlas wrapped the cover cloth around himself even tighter as he shivered. Seeing him all drenched, a nice stranger– or rather his former nanny's sister– gave him the remains of an old bedding material to use to drive out the cold.It was really nice of her. And stupid of Atlas to take it, because it smelt really bad. But it was warm, and unnervingly so.He had gone far away from camp to search for the Xhosa, but strangely couldn't find them. Then the rains had started, beating him down.Literally!'Those aren't raindrops, they're liquid bullets.'It was a great wonder to him how the rickety wooden structures had collapsed already. Water sprayed through the gaps in itself, but it didn't give in. Still, it swayed under relentless thundering.Atlas frowned and looked up at the moving roof. In truth, he wasn't worried about the possibility of it collapsing; after all, he had been crushed by much worse things. Instead, he just wanted to avoid eye contact with the smiling face of his former
Hot Gossip
Hope was never always with Atlas. In truth, she could disappear for weeks, and he would barely even bother to send a message or read the ones she sent.But this felt different. Unlike before, he wasn't in control of the timeline, and actually had a lot of missing pieces to find. So was everyone else really.Common sense told him that in such a situation, she should have been with them, yet she wasn't. Worse, she hadn't even left a letter.That meant whatever happened was either impromptu or unforeseen. His frown deepened.Hope was a god, but she wasn't the fighting type. Given, she could beat pigs into submission, but pigs were pests of a sort; their problems were predators.Still, anything that wanted to harm her would have a hard time touching her, but that didn't lessen his worry.The multiple dozen confused gazes that fell on him forced him out of his state of distress and into one of embarrassment.His outburst had been abrupt, and had broken the melancholic atmosphere. Then he
What the Actual Hell?!
Atlas gulped and felt himself unable to swallow the saliva completely.This wasn't fear- or shock-induced paralysis, although they were afraid. They actually couldn't move.The feeling was strange. It wasn't like their muscles were glued or locked in place; it felt like they, or he rather– because he couldn't tell what they were going through– had forgotten how to move.Even his eyelids, the pumping of his chest, every micro movement, stopped. He felt dead, but was alive.'What the actual hell!'The overwhelming numbness jarred him in a metaphysical sense, and stuttered his brain, preventing him from thinking straight. He was paused at the edge of the door so he could still see out into the streets. And what he saw...was terrifying.Everyone looked the same, suspended in animation, so motionless that an outside observer would believe it was a picture or statues. And whatever this was, it only targeted people, or living things that were rather. The drink a man had had to his lips fel
War Room
Of course he didn't just spell his plan out then and there. The few words had just been for drama, and even he had to compliment himself. His acting was spot on.Matthew and the other Xhosa followed, as they went to meet up with the rest of the Xhosa members that had recently returned to the kingdom after the dire calls made by the guards.Atlas didn't bother to question them on where they had been; they were men after all.The four people coming from the north gate, of which Gerrard was part, had a lot of scratches and looked like they had just survived something harsh, which was no surprise.The weather was telling on them too, and their skin looked purple from frostbite. Even the tanned guy too.Kael and his group looked like they had had it easier, but it didn't mean they were good-looking either. Without exception, everyone here was dishevelled. Atlas wasn't displeased; he couldn't ever, knowing who he was, but he wasn't going to let them off so easily."And here I was, thinking
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