✓ | 𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀, luke castellan

ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʏ-ꜰɪᴠᴇ

Prisoners of the Summit.

🌎

    ATLAS LED RORY A LITTLE WAY DOWN THE MOUNTAIN, the path winding treacherously through the jagged rocks and loose gravel. The air grew colder the farther they descended, the wind whipping through the narrow crevices, carrying with it a faint, eerie howl that seemed to echo from the very heart of the mountain.

    After only a short moment, they reached a hidden alcove carved into the mountainside, its entrance almost completely obscured by overhanging rocks and twisted, gnarled roots that snaked down from above. Inside the alcove, the air was thick with the scent of sulfur and decay, making it difficult to breathe. The shadows within seemed to writhe and twist, alive with the presence of dark creatures that had been lurking in the depths, waiting for their moment to strike.

    A group of monsters stood waiting in the alcove, their eyes glowing malevolently as they turned to face their approaching leader. The dracanae, their serpent-like lower halves coiled menacingly, hissed softly as their slit-pupiled eyes fixed on Atlas. Their scaly skin glistened in the dim light, their fangs bared in a twisted parody of a smile. Beside them, the empousai—vampiric creatures with fiery hair and one bronze leg, the other made of donkey—snickered, with their sharp, predatory eyes. The telekhines, squat, dog-headed sea demons, shifted restlessly, their webbed hands flexing as they awaited further orders.

    The air crackled with dark energy, the presence of so many creatures of the night amplifying the sense of impending doom. The monsters were eager as they waited for Atlas to give the command that would unleash them upon the world. Rory stood her ground, forcing herself not to show any sign of weakness or fear. She knew that these creatures fed on fear, that any display of vulnerability would be seen as an invitation to doubt her. Instead, she crossed her arms and leaned casually against the cavern wall.

    Although Atlas tried to keep his expression neutral, it was clear that he was struggling to contain his excitement. His wicked grin, the kind that revealed far too many teeth, spread slowly across his face, growing wider with each passing second. It was like watching a predator finally close in on its prey after a long, arduous hunt. He flexed his fingers, the joints cracking audibly in the cold, still air of the alcove, before running his hands over his ragged jacket. As if by some ancient magic, the tattered fabric mended itself under his touch, the coarse material smoothing out and transforming back into an expensive brown silk suit. The suit was pristine, the kind of suit that men of wealth and power wore in the gleaming towers of Wall Street, a symbol of authority and dominance. The ragged, tormented prisoner of the sky was now stepping into the role of a powerful, liberated Titan. He looked down at himself, his grin growing even wider as he admired the suit, clearly pleased with the image he now presented.

    Rory watched him with a mixture of disgust and wariness. There was no doubt in her mind that Atlas would leave Luke to rot on that mountaintop, uncaring of his fate as long as he himself was no longer the one bearing the burden of the sky. The thought made her stomach churn with anger and fear, but she forced herself to remain outwardly calm, her expression carefully schooled into one of detached indifference. Atlas was dangerous, perhaps more so now that he was free, and she needed to keep her wits about her, especially now.

    She shifted her stance slightly, leaning more heavily against the cold, rough surface of the cavern wall. The stone pressed into her back, grounding her in the present as she tried to focus on the distant sounds coming from the mountaintop. The echoes of the struggle reached them in the alcove, faint but unmistakable, carried on the biting wind that whipped through the narrow passageways of the mountain.

    The minutes dragged on, each one stretching into what felt like an eternity. Time seemed to slow, every second a torturous reminder that Luke was up there, alone, bearing the weight of the sky on his shoulders. The thought of him struggling under that immense burden, the pain and suffering he must be enduring, made her chest tighten with a helpless sort of rage. But she couldn't let herself dwell on it. Not now. She had to stay focused, had to keep her mind sharp, even as the fear gnawed at her insides like a relentless, hungry beast.