A World Of Decree: And The Seven Laws

The round began, and Atlas instantly sprinted towards his only pathway. He could smell the lingering sense of dry concrete and cracked rock like it was stuffed into his nose. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't too annoying either. Anchored footsteps shuffled across the walls around him, or perhaps it was nothing more than a few of the inner walls already changing their routes. Whatever the case, it was unnerving.

Atlas heard a scream in the distance, but brushed it off as nothing more than a fluke. It was easy to be scared in such a cramped and narrow place, and Atlas wasn't about to fall victim into something so minor.

He turned another corner, and another, when suddenly, Atlas locked eyes with a competitor across a long, treacherous hallway-like pathway. The man staring at Atlas was semi-old, wore drastically saturated white robes, and held some sort of necklace between his clasping hands on his c.h.e.s.t. He had a head full of short grey hair, it was similar to Draxx but less patchy and more representative of his personality.

"Halo Ox," Atlas said aggressively while remembering the introductions. "I don't want to fight if I don't have to."

"And a hello to you, Atlas Bright." Halo replied calmly, almost as if he was in a church. "Fighting isn't necessary my friend…"

A wall suddenly collapsed between them, and they were separated within a moment's notice. Another pathway opened up for both of them, and they quickly took advantage of it while they still had the chance.

Atlas kept running, making sure his footsteps were careful, and mainly to preserve as much energy as possible. He couldn't stop thinking about Halo, and how difficult it was to get a read on him. Was he truly not trying to fight? If so, why did his Guild pick him for this? Those questions layered themselves over Atlas's mind, unable to withdraw until an answer was given.

However, after a few turns, a deadend presented itself, and both Atlas and Halo were locked inside another long hallway of stone and faint lights from the ground.

"We meet again…" Halo said, peacefully. "Shall we look for an exit?"

Atlas raised an eyebrow, still on guard, but slightly relaxed. "So you aren't here to fight? Explain." His voice was strong, but it didn't faze Halo's expression.

"You aren't my target poor boy. I have no need in using my energy on unthreatening foes."

Atlas wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but trust wasn't something he could give out so easily. "What do you expect to do?"

"Only one option." Halo confirmed, "We wait for the walls to change again, or I can eliminate you from this tournament, here and now."

"That's two options?" Atlas almost laughed, but remained his composure.

Halo smiled, unaware of his mistake. "May you rest, peacefully." He slowly put the necklace around his neck, and chanted something Atlas couldn't hear. After a few seconds, a white light started to emerge from Halo's body like a sudden spark of fire in the depths of darkness.

The light started to expand greatly, making Atlas cover his eyes from the luminous blinding light that escaped the semi-old man. The light kept getting brighter and brighter, and something odd began to happen.

Although Atlas couldn't see it, he could feel the edges of his clothes begin to rip. It started with his elbow, followed by his knees and then the remaining parts of his arm. It was off at first, but then the pain began to creep up like a deathly tail. His elbow began to itch to an unbearable extent. Atlas tried his best from itching it, but it became so painful it was almost impossible not to begin scraping away at it.

Atlas slowly began to back up in the direction he came from, bumping into a few walls but managing to get behind the corner where the light was barely edging. He looked at his elbows and knees, seeing intense red burns and parts of his clothes completely destroyed.

It was irritating, but Atlas's only option now was to run backwards, and hope another path opened itself for him to find.

Halo vanished the light he was making, smiling, and proceeding to the pathway that opened up for him. His brilliance led him to a new path, but his arrogance would lead to his own demise because of it.

In the stands, Mooks and Faibel were carefully observing all of Atlas's actions. Although they could see open routes Atlas missed, it wasn't like they had any room to speak anyway, so observing was the only thing they could do.

"This isn't looking good." Faibel nudged his glasses further up his nose, "Atlas is running in circles, and everytime he's had an opening, it's either been taken or he runs into an enemy."

Mooks agreed, mentally. "On the bright side, no one has found the exit yet. But three contestants have gone missing. Not a single projector can spot them."

"Do you think the Reaper has anything to do with it?" Paris asked from the row behind Mooks. He didn't respond, making the answer quite clear.

"Wait a minute…" Faibel leaned in closer. "The announcer never mentioned a timer."

Alastor laughed, "Good eye!" He clapped and whistled. "There is no timer!"

"How are you so certain?" Mooks added.

Alastor gave one of his famous devilish grins, "Isn't it obvious? The first one to exit, will end the stage!"

"But then only one person can acquire the points?" Faibel asked unwillingly.

"Exactly!" Alastor said over dramatically, giving everyone around him a few goosebumps down their necks.

"Excuse Me! Pardon!" A few yells came from the further rows behind them. Shuffling and people barking back at the intruders could be heard as well, but as Mooks and the rest turned around, their minds went blank, and their mouths went silent.

Cartuja chuckled, crossing his hands with novelty. "Whaddayaknow, the rabbit and the heir."

As Laena turned around, the impact the sudden intrusion had on her heart was the greatest out of all. It was different from happiness. Happiness was something you feel when a funny joke is told, or perhaps a feeling of accomplishing a difficult task. However, what she felt was no happiness. It was joy. A feeling of nourishment, relief, and the complete abolishment of sadness. Joy warms the heart. Joy drives you to tears. Joy takes away all the aches and pain one can feel.

"Rin…" Laena mumbled in a light voice under her breath. She jumped out of her seat, and flung herself inside Rina's caring arms of softness.

Rina held Laena softly, feeling like the big sister she always wished to be. "I missed you too." Rina whispered in her ear, looking around at the friendly smiles greeting her, and Calvins return. Even Alastor waved a dazzling hello, but turned back around with Mooks after a few moments.

As Rina kept looking, her happiness faded when the one person she couldn't wait to see wasn't there. "Where's… Atlas?" Rina let go, seeing the guilt building on Laena's face.

"Uhm." Laena stumbled in her own words, so she just pointed towards the Labyrinth on the field. "He's in there…"

Rina didn't know what to say. Her mouth was open, but no words dared to come out.

Laena grabbed her hand to distract her from her aimless staring towards the projectors like a widow in a long forgotten memory. Since there were no remaining seats, Mooks offered up his, requiring him to sit in the open aile where the stairs are. It didn't bother him in the slightest. Besides, Calvin would have to join him anyway, so at least he wouldn't feel lonely.

Rina walked past Faibel, giving him a warming hello. Faibel crossed his leg, replying in a monotone voice, and a gentle nod. "Rina."

Rina thanked Mooks for the seat, unsure of how to handle her emotions in watching the rest of this round. She could see Atlas struggle to find whatever he was looking for, bringing her closer and closer to a state she's never felt before. All she could do was grip the hearts around her c.h.e.s.t, stay calm with all her friends beside her, and watch as Atlas faces his most devastating challenge yet.

"This doesn't make any sense." Faibel's irritation showed clearly through his voice. "Why are the projectors only showing four contestants now? There were 10 at the start!"

Mooks noticed it too, but remained silent and observatie like a watchtower in the night.

Leo looked around too, pointing out the obvious as usual, "I see our boy Atlas. That Reaper guy. Uh.. guy from Golden Eagle. And Hendrix?" He said, puzzled as if he wasn't sure if that was correct.

"Yes moron." Faibel added. "WAIT!" He shouted right after, catching the attention of other spectators around them. "Atlas is about to run into Lee Carnell, and with the Reaper right on their tale."

Everyone including the spectators noticed it as well, finally expecting some action out of this long, boring stage.

…

Just as Faibel predicted, Atlas turned a sharp corner to the left, seeing his next possible opponent down a semi-long hallway. His panting and rapid breaths hindered his ability to make an introduction, so he let Lee Carnell do the talking.

Lee Carnell was a finely dressed gentleman. He wore lavish clothes, had a gentleman's look glued on his face, and a chiseled, finely groomed jaw to accompany it. He had very short black hair, accompanied by a faint, yet briefly trimmed stubble across his mouth and chin.

Lee bowed in respect to his opponent, deciding that was enough for an introduction. "Deception." He said, firmly, and without hesitation.

A shallow burst of pressure ran through the hallway, and instantly, Atlas bent his knees and turned his torso to run, but Lee stopped him within a heartbeat. "Stop." Atlas stopped.

"Drop to your knees and turn around." Atlas followed his command, unable to control his actions.

"Now." Lee stretched his wrists, "Get on the ground and put your face to the stone." Atlas obeyed the command.

Lee walked over, made sure his shoes were fairly clean, and prepared to stomp on the boy's skull without mercy.

However, a dark, ominous figure emerged from the corner and swallowed up Lee like a mere insect, vanishing any trace of his existence.

Atlas remained on the ground as the black patch of shadows and corruption traveled over him, completely unaware of Atlas's vulnerability. Atlas could feel a tingling sensation travel over his body, prompting him to not only refrain from moving, but breathing as well.

The black patch of mass turned the corner, and Atlas released a large breath as air filled his lungs once more. His heart was pacing, his clothes were torn, his skin was scr.a.p.ed, his lungs were suffering, and his hopes of earning any points were diminishing with every breath he took.

Atlas got back up, waited for the walls to shift again, and turned on the next corner. A much larger opening presented itself towards the right, and Atlas slid in without a second thought.

He looked around for a single moment, seeing a large clearing in front of him. It was a simple square clearing, surrounded by stone and two other pathways that showed in the distance. However, there was one pathway that stood out from the rest. It was large, bordered by silver and aluminum, and showed the exit to the Labyrinth. At first glance, it had nothing more but the metal plating and a few hinges holding up a metal frame like an overhang, but Atlas was sure it was the exit.

Atlas's hopes were suddenly brought back as he made his way towards the door, but a faint scream bolstered his attention elsewhere. "ATLAS!" A scream was heard from the corner of the clearing.

Atlas was forced to stop only a few meters shy of the exit, and he whipped his head towards the direction of the scream. What he saw sent a nightmarish chill down his throat, making him pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

The same black matter of shadows and death was engulfing Hendrix into what seemed like the ground. Hendrix's face of horror was convincing enough to help, but with Atlas being so close to the exit, he didn't know what to choose.

He took a step towards the exit, shook his head out of frustration, and bolted in the opposite direction towards Hendrix. Atlas focused his essence to propel his steps with greater velocity, catching up to Hendrix quickly, and grabbing his arm in attempts of pulling him out of the depths of the black abyss.

Hendrix yelled and clinged on tight. Atlas pulled and used as much strength as possible to help, but in the end, the darkness consumed him, and his body was swallowed into the unknown.

"NOOOO!" Atlas yelled as he saw Hendrix's face become petrified, sinking into the darkness like nothing more but waste in an alley.

Atlas crawled backwards as he was whiplashed from Hendrix's grip, staring into pure nightmare fuel. He watched as the dark matter formed itself into a humanoid figure, followed by the formation of an actual man. It was the Reaper.

The reaper smiled at Atlas, forming his hand into the darkness from before and grabbing Atlas by the throat. The reaper stayed silent, slowly tugging away at Atlas's breath.

In the stands, Rina grabbed Laena's hand and squeezed it tightly for comfort. Everyone else was edging in their seats as well, watching as the final two competitors remaining were staring each other face to face.

Atlas gripped the dark miasma around his neck protruding from the Reaper's arm, trying his best to find even the slightest opening for an escape. However, as his breath diminished, his strength did as well.

Atlas struggled, coughing, "Y-You.. C-cow-ard."

The Reaper kept smiling, so Atlas aborted to his final option: saying something that might shift a gear in the Reaper's perfect concentration.

"C-Calvin Pride…" Atlas coughed, wiggling his legs as he was being lifted. "Flint Evermore.." His face began to suffocate in shades of blue and white, "Osiris… O-Oracle. C-Curse…" Only one breath remained, and only one name came up. "Alastor H-Hellsgate."

Fortunately, Atlas hit the jackpot. The Reaper's smile faded, and he released Atlas from his grip of death.

Atlas fell to the ground on all fours, wheezing and struggling for breath as the Reaper stared him down. "A name was given. A human present." The Reaper said in a hollow, lifeless voice. "Who are you, boy? How do you come by War?" He paused, realizing Atlas wasn't answeering. "Does Death await your company?"

Atlas got up, holding himself on his knees, and readjusting to a more balanced posture. "I don't know what you're saying." Atlas coughed once more, "But clearly Alastor means something to you."

The reaper remained silent, "You belong in the Abyss." The reaper stretched his hand out into a dark miasma again, but Atlas dodged backwards before the hand could even reach him.

"Not gonna work again.." Atlas muffled, ready for anything to be thrown his way. However, the hand kept reaching and stretching wherever he went, so Atlas's only option was to dive forward straight at the reaper.

Atlas could feel the darkness brush past his shoulders as he lowered himself closer to the ground, traversing through the endless shadows of darkness escaping the reaper's hand of death. With only a few meters between them, Atlas sidestepped to the right, caulked back his fist, and saw his opening as clear as day.

"Augment." Atlas whispered beneath his breath, sinking his fist straight into the Reaper's c.h.e.s.t. Instantly, a swirl of fierce winds spun around the clearing, cracking and breaking some of the walls that surrounded it. The darkness inside the Reaper burst open and hundreds of small black particles exploded into miniscule pieces all around. The pressure from the punch nearly erased the Reaper's whole existence, and the audience roared and howled in their seats.

However, the particles that spread into so many pieces stopped, almost seeming as if they were frozen in time. In just a few seconds, the particles came rushing back with the wind, and recreating the Reaper's body as if nothing happened.

The audience settled down, and Atlas backed up on the defensive. Alastor leaned over to Mooks in the stands, and whispered in a voice that only a few could hear, "The Lich cannot be killed. He isn't alive to begin with, so I'm honestly in a predicament of no chance of victory for your dear Atlas." Alastor chuckled, "Unless of course, Atlas doesn't hold back. Then perhaps we might see quite a show."

Mooks leaned over, "What do you mean by he doesn't hold back? It doesn't look like he's in any situation to hold back at all."

Alastor grinned, "If there's anything I learned from his father, it's that Atlas can only ever learn four spells. The first, Augment. The second, Fracture. The third, Break. However, I don't believe he's strong enough to cast the third, and even if he was, all these poor lives would be extinguished like nothing more but ash."

"What's the fourth?"

Alastor turned his head slowly, "My my, curious as always!"

"That doesn't answer my question." Mooks sighed.

"Don't ask questions you'll regret asking."

The Reaper formed a thin line across his mouth. Atlas could see that his attack angered him, and this time, the Reaper wouldn't give Atlas another chance.

The Reaper flung both his human hands in the air, forming a dark spherical shadow between them. "Gates of the Abyss." He said normally, plummeting the dark sphere into the ground and submerging the entire arena in darkness.

Everything, including Atlas's sight of the sky vanished into darkness. Even the projectors couldn't see a thing, leaving the audience on the tip of their seats with anticipation and excitement.

Atlas couldn't see a thing, as everything around him was pitch black, emotionless, and empty. He could feel his feet unable to move as something began to crawl onto him slowly. Atlas tried to focus some energy to the bottom of his feet to jump, but it was of no use.

Atlas grunted, thinking of a possible way to end this madness, but only clueless actions filled his brain. As the darkness began crawling up to his knees, Atlas snapped his hands back, and prepared to clap as loud as he could.

"Augment!" He yelled as he collided his hands together, breaking through not only the darkness below him, but erasing the shadows all around him. The wind and atmospheric pressure of the clap sent waves of energy and force around the clearing that some of the walls began crashing down onto the ground. However, the darkness above the walls remained, and the projectors were still blinded by the darkness.

Atlas could at least see the clearing now, but the Reaper was absent from the scene. The floor was darkened by corruption and miasma, so Atlas's only assumption of the Reaper's whereabouts was below him.

Atlas tried to punch the ground below with another spell, but was caught off guard as his fist sunk into the ground, and was unable to come back up. He pulled and tugged, but his body slowly followed into the depths of the darkness below. Slowly, with resistance and yells of denial, Atlas's body submerged into the darkness, and all the shadows of balck followed along with him.

The projectors cleared up as the darkness vanished, and the Reaper was the last one standing in the broken clearing. He folded his hands behind his back, and began his slow approach towards the exit.

At that moment, Rina let go of her necklace and Laena's hand, as well as the last piece of hope left in her heart and soul. She was motionless, watching as the Reaper made his way for the exit. Her heart was racing, her breathing seemed to vanish, and her eyes wanted to believe what she saw wasn't true.

"A..Atlas…" She whispered, unable to detect his presence even the slightest bit. Her c.h.e.s.t ached, feeling as if an anchor dropped her soul to the depths of darkness.

Laena looked over slowly, seeing the pain in Rina's eyes like a fallen star into unknown lands. "Rin.." Laena sniffled, feeling her pain just as much as her. Laena tried to grab Rina's hand, but she felt them, and was brought to despair. Rina's hands were cold. Not a cold on a snowy day or perhaps a sudden storm. A cold of treacherous despair and anguish. A cold you couldn't warm. A cold where she was trying to grab something she couldn't. A cold where feelings were the only fire in a blizzard, and that fire had just reached its final spark.