Rewrite The Star

CHAPTER 25 : RESONANCE OF GRIEF

“What the fuck?” Atlas gasped, touching the spot where Darren’s hand had struck. His cheek throbbed with a sharp, stinging pain, and he rubbed it instinctively, as if to erase the ache and the reality of the moment.

“I know it’s hard to accept the truth,” Darren began, his voice softer now, yet firm. “But I truly believe Keevin wouldn’t want to see you like this. Grieve, yes, but don’t let it consume you. Sorrow, if left unchecked, can steal your sanity. As your friend, I’m worried for you, Atlas. You can’t keep drowning in the endless sea of ‘what ifs’ or ‘I should have’s.’ Those thoughts—they’re poison. They’ll only deepen your wounds.”

Atlas’s eyes, once filled with a distant, hollow gaze, now brimmed with raw pain. “It’s impossible to comprehend, Darren. I wasn’t even at his funeral. What kind of husband am I? I wasn’t there when he needed me most. I couldn’t save him—I couldn’t even heal him…”

Darren’s expression softened as he reached out, placing a comforting hand on Atlas’s shoulder. “You were dying that day, Atlas. We nearly lost you too. I poured every ounce of energy I had into saving you. Your father was there too—he spent countless nights learning healing magic, just so he could keep you alive.”
Atlas stared at Darren, his mind struggling to grasp the depth of what had been said.

“My father? But he doesn’t know any healing magic…”

“He does now,” Darren replied, his voice tinged with sorrow. “He learned it for you, and he used every bit of his strength to keep you here with us.”

Atlas’s emotions surged, a storm of guilt, grief, and gratitude swirling within him. Tears welled up, and he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as the tears spilled down his cheeks.

Darren pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him as he sobbed. “It’s okay,” Darren murmured. “You’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together.”

Atlas then finally come through his senses.

Atlas walked slowly through the bustling streets, the lively sounds of the town contrasting sharply with the quiet sorrow that weighed down his heart. As he neared his home, he opened the door and called out softly, “I’m home.”

The house greeted him with a comforting stillness. In the living room, his stepfather lay asleep on the couch, exhaustion etched into his features. A small smile tugged at the corners of Atlas’s mouth.

“Dad must be so tired,” Atlas thought, his heart swelling with affection. “I should cook something to help him regain his strength.”

He made his way to the bathroom, letting the warm water wash over him. But as he stood beneath the stream, his thoughts turned to Keevin—the warmth of his smile, the gentle way he would soothe Atlas’s worries, the depth of his love. The memories wrapped around Atlas like a bittersweet embrace, bringing both comfort and pain.
His smile faded, replaced by a steely resolve. “I will avenge you, Keevin,” he whispered to the empty room. “One day, I’ll slay them all, and your spirit will finally rest in peace.”