“Mom, stop it,” Atticus muttered as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
After spending hours with Oberon, he had immediately run into Anastasia on his way back to his room. She had insisted they have dinner together, and they were currently doing just that in his room.
Anastasia smiled warmly and reached across the table to brush a stray piece of hair from his forehead. His hair had always been bushy, and she had long since tired of constantly asking him to get a haircut. Maybe she’d cut it in his sleep…
“You’re never too old to be worried about,” she replied gently, her eyes filled with warmth.
She knew this would probably annoy him, but she couldn’t resist. She just couldn’t help herself.
“Especially when you’re going off to risk your life tomorrow.”
Atticus sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He had learned about the history of the other Apex events in the past.
Many of the human Apex, if they could even be called that, had lost their lives during this competition. And that had been without the blatant declaration of the Nexus being a death game.
“I’m stronger than you think,” he said suddenly, avoiding her gaze. But even as he spoke, his voice had a softer edge.
She was the one person he couldn’t be cold to, even if he tried, and he wasn’t used to her fussing over him like this.
Anastasia nodded, her expression softening. “I know, Atti,” she said gently. “I know you’re strong. But you’re still my son, and that means I’ll always worry.”
Atticus turned to the side, trying to hide the small smile creeping onto his face. “Embarrassing,” he mumbled.
Seeing this, Anastasia chuckled and reached out to take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Oh, I know. And I’m not sorry about it.”
For a few moments, they sat there, holding hands across the table.
Suddenly, Anastasia spoke, her tone serious. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.” Atticus immediately noticed the concern in her voice. She couldn’t stop him from participating in the competition— something that pained her. But he was her son, and what mother wouldn’t support her son?
Atticus met her eyes, a warm smile on his face. “I promise, Mom,” he said quietly but firmly. “I’m not planning on dying. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Anastasia nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’ll hold you to that.”
They continued their meal in comfortable silence, with Atticus occasionally glancing at his mother. As he had expected, throughout the dinner, Anastasia hadn’t tried to convince him not to participate in the Nexus. Instead, she expressed her support, though her worry was clear.
Atticus smiled once more before focusing on his food. Tomorrow, even if he had to unleash a massacre, he would come back home.
The time passed quickly, and before long, Anastasia kissed Atticus goodnight on his forehead.
As she left the room, her shadow suddenly swirled, and Arya appeared behind her.
Atticus raised an eyebrow, watching as Arya stood silently with her back to him.
She took a deep breath, then abruptly turned and rushed toward him, enveloping him in a tight hug. “Come back home,” she whispered. Without waiting for a response, she let go and melted into the shadows, leaving Atticus standing alone in the room with a warm smile.
“I will,” he muttered.
Taking a deep breath, Atticus headed to bed after freshening up.
…
The night went by incredibly fast. One moment, Atticus lay down on his bed with his eyes closed, and in the next, he opened them, feeling a heavy presence in the room.
‘Damn, it felt as if I blinked and morning arrived,’ he thought.
Atticus immediately stood up and saw Magnus standing by the door to his room.
“Is it time?” Atticus asked, but Magnus offered no response, simply staring at him silently. The atmosphere grew awkward as silence settled over the room.
“Um—” Atticus began to speak, but Magnus suddenly interrupted, his tone heavy.
“You’re going to be fighting for the entire human domain today. All our hopes will rest on you and you alone. However, despite all of this, I want you to remember something. Nothing is as important as your life. If it becomes something you can’t handle, give up, and I promise I will come for you.”
Magnus’s tone was heavy, beyond measure, and it struck Atticus straight in the heart.
Atticus smiled and nodded seriously.
“Okay.”
“Good. Now get ready, we’re already late.”
Atticus got up from the bed and quickly freshened up, preparing himself within a few minutes.
He pondered what to wear. Today, he was going to be participating in an alliance wide event; common sense dictated that he should look his best.
However, Atticus had never been one to care about appearances. After some thought, he chose a fitted blue trench coat that hugged his broad, toned body.
As he stood in front of the mirror, Atticus adjusted the collar, his piercing blue eyes sharp and cold as he stared at his reflection. Despite how tight the trench coat might seem, it was anything but restrictive.
In fact, it felt as though it made him even more flexible. There was no restriction to his movements at all.
Atticus took a deep breath and closed his eyes, calming his entire system. The world seemed to slow, the loud sounds of the outside world transforming into a muted symphony as Atticus entered a state of complete and utter peace.
Anastasia’s face appeared in his mind, followed by Freya’s. Atticus took a moment to absorb it, and then, he opened his eyes, his aura shifting.
The room became colder as every shred of hesitation within him vanished as though it had never existed.
His eyes radiated an intense coldness, capable of freezing fire. With this new change, Atticus brushed the hilt of his katana, which trembled with excitement.
And then, without any further thought, he turned and left the room.
