The Broken Paths

The weight in his chest lightened slightly. The shackles of the past, the voices that had haunted him, the scars that had once dictated his every move—

They weren't gone.

But they were no longer heavy chains.

Masked Atlas let out a breathy laugh, but it lacked its usual amusement. "So, what now? You think acceptance will make you whole? That knowing this changes everything?"

Atlas smirked, a mirror of his tormentor's own expression. "No. But it means I can finally wake up."

In the real world, Shen Xue sat beside Atlas' unconscious body, arms crossed, watching him carefully. The others had come and gone, but she remained, unwilling to leave even as the hours stretched into days.

Then, something shifted.

A twitch.

Shen Xue's eyes narrowed. "Physician Ming!"

The older man rushed in just as Atlas' fingers curled slightly, his breathing deepening. The faintest flicker of movement—his eyelashes twitching.

Shen Xue leaned closer, voice low. "Atlas… wake up."

And for the first time in weeks, his body obeyed.

Inside his mind, the void erupted into chaos. Atlas and Masked Atlas clashed, fists colliding with sickening force. Each blow sent them spiralling through memories, shifting the battlefield with every impact.

A punch from Atlas sent them hurtling into a dimly lit alleyway—his younger self, bloodied and bruised, stood over a merchant who had tried to cheat him. Another punch, and they were in a lavish dining hall, Atlas shaking hands with a noble while planning his inevitable downfall.

Masked Atlas laughed through the pain, wiping blood from his lip. "Ohhh, this is fun! I have to say, I never expected you to get this bold."

Masked Atlas snarled, swinging again. Their surroundings twisted—now a burning estate, smoke curling into the sky as screams echoed in the distance. A younger Atlas walked away from the flames without looking back.

"Still holding onto that one, huh?" Masked Atlas mocked, dodging a strike.

"I mean, come on, you barely even blinked back then. You sure you're not still that guy?"

Atlas gritted his teeth and lunged forward, tackling Masked Atlas into another memory. But Masked Atlas grinned with delight.

A cold cell. The iron bite of shackles. Gregor's laughter.

Atlas hesitated.

Masked Atlas pushing Atlas off his chest. "Ahhh, there it is. That moment. The one you never let yourself think about."

He leaned in, voice dripping with mockery. "Tell me, Atlas—if you tear the walls down, what happens when there's nothing left to hold you together?"

Atlas' fist tightened. His breath was ragged. But then—he laughed. A low, bitter chuckle.

"Then I build something new."

And with that, he swung again.

Masked Atlas let out a scream, not of pain, but of something raw and furious. He staggered back, then lunged forward with a strike that sent them both crashing into another memory—

Atlas stood over a grave, the cold wind biting through his coat. His father's grave. The earth was still fresh, the funeral incense still smoldering. The air smelled of loss, of betrayal. Atlas clenched his fists as people whispered behind him, their condolences empty, their eyes calculating.

"And what if it happens again?" Masked Atlas hissed, his voice filled with venom.

"What if the world betrays you just like this again!?"

Another punch sent them hurtling into a ruined home, the walls scorched, the remnants of his mother's belongings scattered. The last place she had been before she was taken.

"Your mother. Torn away. Used. Do you even remember her face anymore?"

Atlas gritted his teeth, shaking off the disorientation, but Masked Atlas was relentless. Another strike, and they tumbled through the past once more—

A burning village. The bodies of his siblings lying still among the rubble.

"Your siblings. Your blood. Dead before they ever had a chance to fight back. What did you do, Atlas? Nothing. You just survived. Like a fucking cockroach."

Atlas' breath came in ragged gasps, but he refused to fall. He charged forward, fist crashing into Masked Atlas' face, but the scene shifted again—

His second mother, the woman who had cared for him when no one else did, gasping for breath as life slipped from her fingers. His hands had been stained with her blood, powerless to stop it.

"Everyone you have ever loved has been taken from you. Every single one. And you think you've changed? You think the world won't do it again!?"

Atlas growled, his knuckles white as he grabbed Masked Atlas by the collar, slamming him into the endless void. But Masked Atlas only laughed—a harsh, mocking sound that cut deeper than any wound.

Then, the final blow. Punching Atlas chin and dazing him while asking the most painful question of all.

"What if Meyu dies?"

Atlas froze.

"What if she leaves you? What if she gets tired of your schemes, your walls, your lies? What if one day, she just vanishes—like everyone else did?"

Atlas' grip faltered. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

Masked Atlas leaned in, his painted smile stretching wide. "Tell me, Atlas—can you really handle losing her too?"

The void cracked. The battlefield of memories blurred at the edges, distorting like ink spilled over parchment. The weight of his past pressed down on him, suffocating, unrelenting.

But then—

A sound. Distant, but real. A whisper through the storm.

"Atlas... wake up."

The voice cut through the chaos. The shadows trembled.

Masked Atlas' grin faltered. "No, no, no—you don't get to run away from this! You haven't answered me! What if—"

Another voice. Stronger this time.

"Atlas!"

The void shattered.

His body lurched, a strangled gasp tearing from his throat as his consciousness slammed back into reality. His lungs burned, his muscles screamed in protest, and his vision swam with disorientation.

A month. It had been over a month.

A candle flickered nearby, the soft glow illuminating familiar faces.

Shen Xue was perched on the edge of her seat, eyes sharp but filled with relief.

"Finally."

Physician Ming exhaled, shaking his head. "A miracle. I was beginning to believe he would never wake."

Lianhua sat closest to him, small hands curled tightly around his blanket, her wide eyes glistening with something fragile.

Hope. Fear. A mix of both.

Atlas' throat was dry, his body sluggish, but he managed to rasp out a single word:

"...Water. I want water."

Shen Xue scoffed. "Figures that'd be the first thing you say."

But she still reached for a cup. Then, without taking her eyes off Atlas, she called out "Xian Yue!"

A graceful figure stepped into the room—Xian Yue, the leader of the servants. She bowed lightly, awaiting orders.

"Check if my father has returned" Shen Xue instructed. "If he has, tell him Atlas is awake."

Xian Yue nodded immediately and left without question.

Shen Xue turned her gaze back to Atlas, studying him carefully. After over a month in a coma, he looked like a shadow of his former self. His once sharp features were gaunt, cheekbones more pronounced, his skin pale from prolonged stillness. Even his hair, usually kept in controlled disarray, was tangled and unkempt. The easy going presence he always carried had dimmed, buried beneath the weight of survival.

Still, his eyes—the sharp, calculating gold—remained the same.

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You look like death warmed over."

Atlas, despite the weakness weighing him down, managed a smirk but his voice still hoarsed.

"Ah, but the important thing is—I'm still warm."

Shen Xue rolled her eyes. "Barely. You look like a half-rotten corpse who's pretending to be alive out of sheer spite."

Atlas let out a weak chuckle. "That is the only way to live."

A small, hesitant voice cut through the moment. "Atlas..."

Lianhua.

Her tiny hands clenched the blanket, her wide eyes filled with something different now—not just fear, but recognition, trust. A sign of healing.

Atlas turned his head toward her, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. "I'm back, kid. You didn't think I'd leave you hanging, did you?"

Lianhua hesitated for a moment, then, in a voice barely above a whisper, asked "Did you win?"

Atlas blinked, caught off guard by the weight in her question. She wasn't just asking about survival—she was asking if the fight, the pain, the suffering had meant something. If it had ended. If it ever would. 

His smirk faltered slightly, but he forced it back. "Yeah. I won."

Her small hands tightened around the blanket as if processing his words, then, with quiet resolve, she lifted her chin. 

"My name is Lianhua."

Something in Atlas' chest tightened—not in pain, but in something unfamiliar, something lighter. A name. Not 'child.' Not 'girl.' A name she had chosen to give him.

Before he could respond, the door slid open.

"Lianhua!" Ren's voice cut through the moment as he entered, eyes darting between her and Atlas.

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

Lianhua turned to Atlas, then back to Ren before offering a small, almost shy smile.

"Ren is like a brother to me."

Atlas arched a brow, glancing between them before sighing dramatically. "Ah, I see. So you're already replacing me? I wake up after a month, and you've already found a better, younger, less devastatingly handsome mentor? How cruel."

Shen Xue groaned. "He's still delirious. Knock him out again."

Atlas, still half-lucid, exhaled weakly. "Where is Meyu? And the Silver Lotus Sect?"

Shen Xue's expression sobered. "Meyu left weeks ago. No one could convince her to stay put. She said she had business to take care of and that you'd understand when you woke up."

Atlas frowned slightly but said nothing.

Ren crossed his arms. "As for the Silver Lotus Sect, they're still holding strong. Meyu has been dealing with the mess in your absence, but from what we've heard, they're managing."

Atlas hummed, absorbing the information. His usual smirk faltered, replaced by something quieter, something almost uncertain.

He had half expected Meyu to be here. She always was. Always lingering in the background, making a joke at his expense, keeping pace with him step for step. But now—she was gone.

Atlas exhaled, voice softer than usual. "Figures. She always was impatient."

Shen Xue, arms crossed, observed him for a moment before sighing. "Oh, don't get all tragic on me. She didn't abandon you, if that's what you're thinking. She left because she had to, not because she wanted to."

Atlas chuckled weakly. "Didn't know you were in the business of comforting people, Shen."

Shen Xue rolled her eyes. "I'm not. I'm in the business of preventing idiots from moping themselves into an early grave."

Ren smirked from the side. "Seems like a full-time job when it comes to you."

Atlas groaned, covering his face with one hand. "Maybe I should've stayed in the coma." 

Shen Xue rolled her eyes. "Maybe you should have. Now shut up and drink your water before you pass out again."

Physician Ming cleared his throat, stepping forward with a look of cautious intrigue. "Before you slip back into unconsciousness, Atlas, there is something you should know."

Atlas raised a brow, weakly taking a sip of water. "This better not be a lecture."

Ming ignored the quip. "Your body has undergone significant trauma—not just from the coma, but from something far more concerning. Your body has been absorbing Qi but the silver lining is it's miniscule."

Atlas scoffed. "Impossible. I don't have Qi."

Ming nodded. "Precisely. Which is why this is so troubling. Your body should not be able to interact with Qi at all, let alone absorb it. And yet, in your unconscious state, it has been reacting to the energy around you. Not in the way a Qi cultivator would, but in a way that is... different."

Atlas crossed his arms. "So I'm a leech now?"

Ming exhaled. "Not quite. More like... a vessel without a proper release. Your body takes in Qi, but it cannot channel it as others do. If this continues unchecked, the pressure could overwhelm your body entirely. Again the slightly good news is that because your body is constantly absorbing but at a miniscule rate, you shouldn't have to worry yet."

Atlas hummed thoughtfully, his usual humour momentarily replaced by calculation. "So, what's the solution?"

Ming stroked his beard. "That, I do not know yet. But if you do not learn to control this, the power you are unknowingly gathering may destroy you from the inside. We will need to study this carefully."

Atlas sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "Fantastic. I wake up, and now I'm a ticking time bomb. Just my luck."