Catching a glimmer of her blue hair under the moonlight, Atlas felt his breath hitch. Lara lay there soundly, curled up on the green grass like a child lost in dreams. Her arms hugged her pillow tightly, as if it were a lifeline—or perhaps, a teddy bear she couldn't bear to let go of. It was an adorable scene, one that tugged at something deep within him. But beneath the sweetness lingered sadness, a quiet ache that whispered louder than words ever could.
Atlas gazed toward the small separate mansion perched at the edge of the garden—the place where Isabella had been housed by King Henry. His jaw clenched briefly before he exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"....now I feel like an idiot," he muttered, sinking down beside Lara. For the first time since stepping into this warped illusion, clarity struck him like lightning. "I should've guessed from the start..."
He sat near her, staring up at the night sky scattered with stars. Despite everything—the chaos, the shifting realities, the relentless pull of destiny—this moment brought him peace. He didn't know why exactly; maybe it was habit. After all, he'd spent countless hours playing through 'her' story in the game, watching her face foes and struggles without flinching. Watching her rise every single time, no matter how hard she fell.
She embodied what a true Messiah meant to be—a leader whose only requirement was sacrifice. A heart unafraid to bleed for others.
Atlas glanced back at her sleeping form, reaching out hesitantly to pat her soft, silken hair. How strange it felt to finally meet her—not just as pixels on a screen or lines of dialogue, but as flesh and blood. As someone real.
"....it's an honor, really," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
Yes, he had played the game to escape his own miserable life. Yes, he had adored her character because she carried qualities he lacked. Courage. Determination. Purpose. And yes, he had replayed her journey over and over again, finding solace in living vicariously through her victories rather than enduring his failures.
Gently, Atlas lifted her into his arms, careful not to wake her. She was light, almost weightless, yet she held so much gravity in his chest. Carrying her under the silver glow of the moon, he marveled at the irony. Here he was—a prince carrying the actual princess who deserved better than endless battles and broken promises.
"I finally know who entered the third realm...who dared enter Dracula's castle," he whispered, his lips twitching into a rueful smile. "Only someone insane would take such a step. Or someone with a heart so deep, they couldn't turn away."
Leaning closer, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I don't know if you're an illusion, a remnant memory of the past, or something else entirely. But I'll cherish this moment."
The sounds of the nobles still echoed—laughter clinking like counterfeit coins, music swirling through air thick with false warmth, lights blazing bright as day.
They wouldn't spare her a glance now, too busy scorning her for her mother's sins. But soon… soon, they would grovel. Begging forgiveness with gilded offerings, scrambling to please her with hollow devotion.
By then, it would be too late.
Maybe this is how heroes are forged. Trauma and suffering combined. '…Or villains,' he mused, the line between them blurring like blood in water. 'I can never tell.'
Suddenly, dizziness crashed over him like a tidal wave, reality warping violently around them. His surroundings blurred, converging once more into another fragmented vision. "....Noo. Not now," Atlas growled, gritting his teeth against the nausea threatening to overwhelm him.
He tightened his grip on Lara, refusing to let her slip away. This wasn't fair. He didn't want to leave her alone. He wanted to carry her—to at least ensure she rested comfortably in a bed worthy of her sacrifices. She had faced enough bullshit already.
"...No." His resistance was a blade shoved through his own ribs. His voice cracked under the strain, raw as an open wound. His mind churned—numbness lapping at the edges, begging him to surrender and sleep.
Not yet.
This wasn't just for her. This was for him. A debt carved into his bones, finally ripe for repayment. And now, with fate's knife at his throat? He'd be damned before he let it slip away.
[NOTIFICATION]
[Demon King's Heart Resonating]
'... Fuck you!! ....You're not taking this from me!!!' Atlas roared inwardly, pouring every ounce of his willpower into resisting the pull of the illusion. Reality snapped back into focus, sweat dripping down his temples as he panted heavily.
[Dracula's Law has been cracked.]
[Congratulations! You have damaged a 'law' before the MC. You have gained 150 points.]
His hands trembled as he clutched Lara closer, still cradling her protectively. Every muscle in his body screamed exhaustion, but relief washed over him when he realized she remained safe in his arms.
'...this illusion doesn't want me and Lara together,' he thought bitterly, his resolve hardening. 'Well, that solves Mother's puzzling answer.'
Checking his notifications, he noted the gifted points and the result of his rebellion. A smirk tugged at his lips despite the fatigue weighing him down.
"...I hope I didn't wake that cunt up..." he prayed silently, glancing toward the distant mansion housing Isabella.
.
.
.
Eli opened her eyes, blinking against the haze of waking from what felt like a dream—or perhaps a nightmare. Her vision slowly cleared as she took in the towering gate of the tomb-like palace before her. The air was heavy with an oppressive silence, broken only by the faint rustling of wind through the ruins.
"...Atlas?" she called out, her voice trembling and uncertain. When no answer came, she tried again, louder this time. "Atlas?!"
Standing up on shaky legs, Eli's gaze locked onto the massive Fram door. She remembered entering the tomb with Atlas, his hand pulling her forward into the abyss. But then... nothing. Just that lingering voice—cold, indifferent—declaring her 'ego' rejected. And now, here she was, alone outside the sealed entrance.
Gradually, she steadied herself and approached the door. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides. "Don't tell me…" she muttered under her breath before shouting once more, desperation bleeding into every syllable. "Atlas!"
Bam!
Bam!
"Atlas!!! Are you in there?!" With raw strength born of panic and frustration, she slammed her good hand against the unyielding surface of the door. Each impact reverberated through the stillness, but there was no response—only the echo of her futile attempts.
"Nice try..." a voice echoed from behind, low and gravelly, like stones grinding together.
Eli froze mid-swing, turning cautiously to face the source of the sound. What greeted her was horrifying—a monstrous eye, impossibly large, staring down at her with an unsettling intensity. Instinctively, her spear came up, ready to strike if needed.
"Wait wait wait…" Veil interjected hurriedly, its shadowy form holding her leg firmly in place. "It's okay, it's okay… calm down."
The giant eye glared at them both for a moment longer before retreating slightly, revealing the full grotesque visage of the creature. Its head burned with fire, casting flickering light over the battlefield littered with corpses—hollows, minotaurs, ten-legged spiders—all dead, their bodies testament to the carnage that had unfolded while they were unconscious.
"...he was fighting them when we both were out cold," Veil explained quietly, his tone subdued.
Eli hesitated, lowering her spear ever so slightly. It wouldn't do much against the fiery behemoth looming before her anyway. Slowly, she exhaled, trying to steady her racing heart. Questions swirled in her mind, but one thing stood above all else—the most pressing concern: Atlas.
"...if you are also not with Atlas, then he is alone inside?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Veil looked away, shame etched across his many faces. All the power he claimed to possess seemed utterly useless now. "...the only thing I heard was my ego being rejected. Same as you—I found myself out here," he admitted weakly.
Eli sighed deeply, pacing back to the door, her memories of Atlas's death flashing before her eyes. Her forehead connected with the cold, hard surface, and she let out a scream of pure frustration.
"Why... why am I always fucking USELESS!!"
Slam!
Slam!
"Useless!"
Slam!
Slam!
"USELESS!!"
BAAM!!
"...useless," she whispered finally, her voice cracking as blood trickled from her forehead where it had split open against the unforgiving metal.
{{haha....yes, both of you are indeed useless.}} The voice rumbled suddenly, deep and resonant, emanating from the giant who now sat slouched on the ground, radiating unprecedented sloth.
Eli didn't respond. There was no point arguing; the truth stung too sharply. She didn't know whether Atlas was alive or dead, and her weakness left her powerless to do anything but hope. Hope that somewhere beyond that door, he would be alright.
On the other hand, Veil, shrinking into its own shadow, began to transform. Within moments, the darkness expanded, swallowing everything around it. Multiple glowing eyes and gnashing teeth emerged, glaring at the giant with barely contained fury.
{....SAY that A..gain....} Veil hissed, its voice echoing from countless mouths.
The giant smiled lazily, the flames atop its head shifting from orange to blue, burning hotter and brighter. Steam hissed off its skin as the surrounding area grew unbearably hot.
{{....I thought I already made this clear. You can't win against me.}} The giant sneered, illuminating the devastation around them—the pits, the destruction, the scars of battle.
{{...tread carefully...your mother's not gonna come here to save you in time.}}
The taunt ignited something primal within Veil, but before it could lash out, Eli stepped between them, shouting hoarsely.
"STOP IT!!"
******
character pics available, and curious questions are answered, dicord link down below:
https://discord.gg/yrnQskUgPF