He had to admit, the sight before him was enchanting. Golden rays bathed the vast stretch of floating islands in an endless cascade.
If this had been the old Atticus, it might have stirred something within him. However, there was only coldness in Atticus' gaze.
"Keep it moving!"
The furious shout of the earlier Willguard echoed out, and the procession of prisoners hastily began to move.
They were yanked back the next moment by an immovable force. Curses erupted from the prisoners, and many glanced back to see Atticus standing rooted in place.
"Prisoner! What the hell are you doing?"
The earlier Willguard's eyes narrowed as he strode toward Atticus in furious steps. A cold smile was on his face, like he had been waiting his whole life for this moment.
"You think you're special, huh? Filthy sinner."
He barked as he reached Atticus, radiating an oppressive pressure that made the prisoners around him stiffen.
However, Atticus' gaze remained calm.
"You…!"
