Rewrite The Star

CHAPTER 58 : TASTE OF THE FUTURE

CHAPTER 58: TASTE OF THE FUTURE

Creed saw the cloaked figure sprinting away after landing a hit on him and immediately took off in pursuit. The cloaked man darted down the hall, casting a spell that created dozens of identical clones spreading in every direction, blending into the shadows.

“Damn it,” Creed muttered, his eyes narrowing as the real figure slipped out of sight. “Where did he go?”

“Creed! Jump! You’ll see him from above!” Darren’s voice echoed through the hall.

Creed leaped as high as he could, scanning the ground below. Among the shifting forms, he caught sight of the real cloaked figure dashing away. Without a second thought, Creed dove, tackling the figure to the ground. “Got you. You’re not getting away.”

Then he heard it—a small, familiar sound. A muffled, heartbreaking sob.

All three of them froze, struck by the familiarity of the sound. Creed’s expression softened in shock, a tinge of fear entering his eyes. He slowly pulled back the hood, his heart pounding—and stared in disbelief at the tear-streaked face beneath.

“Hooman?” Creed whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Atlas!” Darren’s voice cracked as he ran to the figure’s side, his face contorted with shock and confusion. “How... how is this even possible?”

Creed could hardly breathe as he took in the sight of Atlas, clad in the dark cloak, his eyes swollen and haunted. For the first time, he felt something in his heart fracture, watching this version of Atlas break down. Gently, he helped him sit more comfortably, his hand resting on Atlas’s shoulder with a strange tenderness. “Hey... I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you,” Creed said softly.

Atlas took a ragged breath, his gaze moving from one of them to the other, haunted, as though he was seeing ghosts. “I’m... the Atlas from the future,” he whispered, his voice hollow.

The words fell like stones. Silence stretched, heavy with confusion, grief, and something they couldn’t name. The future version of Atlas looked down, his voice barely a whisper as he began to speak.

“I came back… to warn the Atlas of this time… to keep him from the horrors I’ve lived through.”

Darren, swallowing hard, managed to find his voice. “What happened in the future?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.

Future Atlas’s gaze turned dark, as if dredging up memories so painful, he could barely stand to look at them. “You’re all… dead,” he said, each word weighted with despair.

The words hit them like a blow, and a suffocating silence settled over the group. Even Nowell, usually steady, seemed shaken to his core. “So… does that mean we actually found the manuscript?” he asked, his voice tight.

Future Atlas nodded slowly, his eyes filled with an agony they could barely comprehend. “Yes, we found it. But the power… it destroyed everything.”

Creed, Darren, and Nowell watched as Future Atlas continued, his voice quivering as he recounted the nightmare he’d lived. “The heavens, the demons, humanity, even the elves… everyone wanted it. They turned into monsters, tearing each other apart. I lost everything trying to protect it. I fought to keep it hidden… but I couldn’t the one i adore the most.”

He broke down, tears spilling freely as he looked at them with raw grief, a lifetime of sorrow etched into his face. “For seven years, I lived in a world where I was the last of us. A handful of others survived, but it was nothing but ruins and memories of the people I loved. And all of you… gone.”

Nowell and Darren, unable to bear his sorrow, wrapped their arms around Future Atlas, holding him close, as though they could somehow take some of his grief into themselves.

Future Atlas closed his eyes, letting himself feel the warmth of the friends he thought he’d never hold again. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine that this was real—that he hadn’t lost them to that nightmare. Then, with a deep, shuddering breath, he pulled back, looking at Creed with a hollow, pleading gaze.