Endless Vertex 11 Chapter 11: Realistic Dreams

Simultaneously, the boy slightly quivered, his expression becoming grave. "Something bad is going to happen." Qin whispered, eyelid twitching. They both felt something far away, advancing towards them. Something incredibly fast and powerful.

"I think we should run."

"Yeah, lets hurry."

They glanced behind them. "I'm going to miss that kind old man." Behind them, few children were running around, laughing happily, while a 70 year old man slowly chased them, chuckling with glee.

What's this? Atlas was a spectator. He could see the world through the eyes of the young boy Qin and from a Birdseye view. Atlas retained the choice to switch between the two perspectives,but he chose to perceive this world trough the boy Qin instead. He sensed no sign of malaise or uneasiness. It felt so natural. It felt like himself, except much smaller and copiously more feeble.

Atlas was endeavouring to elucidated what in the earth is going on, studying the furniture to the artefacts or decoration located all around the room. He was confidently unconfident concerning where or even when he is right now. Everything in the room seemed old-fas.h.i.+oned.

"What's that sound?" A sharp sonic burst exploded in Qin's ear as a ma.s.sive rupture appeared on the roof above him. Qin grabbed the girl beside him and leaped sideways. Inside the heavy smoke and rumble, a thin shady figurine stepped out.

"Finally! You can't hide anymore Eira Snow!" The thin man howled, flaring his dagger-like fangs, disgusting scales on his face reflecting the strong sunlight from the rupture on the roof. A blackish red cloak hid his body, disturbing stench of blood pervading out.

Qin s.h.i.+elded Eira behind him, clenching his fist. "Run... He is after you!" The more wit, the less courage. Qin shouted as he charged towards the thin man like a berserk calf.

"Huh? Get outta my face." The thin man swiped his hand, summoning a heavy, humid gust of air that sent Qin flying towards the wall. Qin slammed forcefully onto the wall, setting cracks on solid concrete.

"Ow!" Atlas jerked upwards, cold sweat doused his hair. The pain, it was excruciating for a child. Atlas felt the impact, affliction piercing, bone breaking. He felt every single bite and sting concentrated on the fragile body. Hatred arose. He hated this helpless feeling.

"What is wrong with me?" Atlas thought, "I'm acting strange..." With a surprise zap, his brain short-circuited again, entering the previous state he was in.

The thin man didn't even bother to check the body. He has a.s.sumed Qin was dead. Lifting up his index finger, a blood red icicle formed before him. "Now it's your turn." A sonic boom slashed through air, darting straight toward Eira.

Qin struggled to get up, streaks of blood running down his the corner of his lip. He watched as death approached Eira, anger releasing from his blood-shot eyes. "I can't save her. I don't want to feel helpless!" He wanted to scream out loud, but all there was the sound of blood gurgling. Atlas's vision blackened.

Hugh and the girls dropped the leftovers from last night, staring at the bizarre sight of Atlas dragging himself downstairs with blood-shot eyes and drenched s.h.i.+rt.

"Don't even ask. I'm taking a walk." Atlas s.n.a.t.c.hed the oversized-jacket on the coat rack.

"Hey! That's min..." The door slammed shut, and Hugh lowered his volume, "What's the matter with him?"

"Don't know." Iris shrugged and replied, "And they say girls have temper and issues." She turned to Kristine.

"I'm gonna stay outta this." Hugh decided to innocently leave the conversation.

Chilly tingles sobered Atlas up where the surface of a golden pendent pressed against his chest. The cool wind brushed against Atlas's cheeks, wiping off the sickening pale ill.u.s.trated upon his face. It was March, middle of spring. Yet the cold weather has shown no intention to subside. Luckily for Atlas, he favored the cold. A sultry weather would have worked as fuel by agitating him furthermore.

Taking a moment to relish the fine atmosphere under the toasty sunlight and elegance of blossoming flowers embedded along the sides of the walkway, Atlas's mind gradually stepped foot into ataraxy. His rank that has ceased to budge commenced inching upwards in a sedate pace, like a half filled 250ml bottle being filled up with water droplets. Aura circulating around his meridian in a convection current motion, sc.r.a.ping the barrier that blocks the path to the next rank. Unlike the pain from breaking previous barriers, satisfaction was the only thing he felt. It was similar to scooping a container of ice-cream with a tiny spoon.

Atlas still wanted to saunter in the park when the wind decided to allow a piece of paper to slap him.

"Celebrating the 85th annual birthday of the respected philanthropist who has contributed his whole life adopting orphans, Mr. Nam." The text said. There was an ill.u.s.tration of a kind-looking old man below.

That face. Atlas gasped. He recognized it. It was the old man from his dream. How is this man going to be a.s.sociated with him?

Atlas flipped over the page. The birthday party is celebrating in a square nearby. Suppressing the anxiousness building up , Atlas strode towards the location. He had to know more about his past.