"What in the..."
Lola trailed off, standing behind Atlas with a few bodyguards. Today, she had tagged along with him just to spend time together. However, she didn’t expect the "meeting" he mentioned to be this.
Inside one of the cabins near the main town was something resembling a crime scene. Several bodies lay rotting on the floor, with only one man still breathing. The sole survivor was beaten black and blue, lying unconscious on the wooden floor.
"..." Lola pursed her lips. "Atlas, what’s going on? Who could’ve... done this?"
Was the island breached?
Atlas glanced at her quietly and answered, "No."
"No?"
"Mhm." He shot one of the guards a sharp look. "Wake him up."
The guard bowed and swiftly walked away. When he returned, he carried a bucket of water and poured it over the unconscious man.
Lola flinched slightly, confusion rising in the back of her mind. When the man groaned awake, Atlas flicked his hand as a signal. Two bodyguards stepped forward, grabbing the man by the shoulders and dragging him upright.
"Ugh..." The man groggily opened his swollen eyes. His vision was blurred, but even so, he could see the silhouettes of the people in front of him, especially the one standing in the middle.
The corners of his mangled mouth curled into a smirk. "Atlas Zorken—the outsider."
A chill crawled down Lola’s spine at the man’s raspy, resentful tone. Hearing that alone told her this situation was nothing like what she imagined.
And she was right.
Because this... this wasn’t caused by outsiders. What she was seeing now was the result of actions taken by the man in power.
"I heard you’ve been crying all night," Atlas said, his voice cool and distant. "Seeing your companions all at peace."
He paused, as if to emphasize the mockery, his eyes drifting to the corpses scattered around like discarded decorations. Then, he snapped his gaze back to the man.
"Ready to give me the location of your other comrades?" he asked.
The man scoffed. "Just kill me, Atlas. I will not talk."
"I see." Atlas rocked his head once before turning around. "Keep him alive."
"Alive?" The man scoffed again, coughing as his throat burned. "Just kill me—"
His breath hitched when Atlas paused and glanced over his shoulder. He saw the slight curl of Atlas’s lips and the sharp glint in his eyes.
"I didn’t ask because I don’t know where they are. Soon, one by one, this place will be full of your old friends," Atlas said, voice low and commanding. "And the one who will bury you alive is your own guilt for encouraging them to start a war they could never win."
With that, Atlas resumed his steps. The man’s eyes widened, and in the next moment, the guards released him, causing him to fall flat on his stomach. But his body was already so numb that the impact barely registered.
"Wait—" he croaked, lifting his head. "At—Atlas, wait! What do you mean—no! Don’t—you don’t—don’t you dare—Atlas!"
But no matter how desperately he shouted, Atlas didn’t stop or even slow his pace. Even when the man vomited blood, his voice wasn’t heard.

I don’t know why... she thought. But Atlas already gave him a chance, but this man didn’t take it.
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