{{{{{ Your choice... and I said…this may go down in history, and change the future in more ways than one. }}}}}
The whisper was a weight against Atlas' skull, neither voice nor breath but something colder—like a vibration that rang behind his teeth.
"...I prefer it to be so," Atlas muttered aloud, though no one stood close enough to hear.
{{{{{ ...I kind of had a feeling. }}}}}
Atlas frowned, his golden eyes narrowing. About what?
{{{{{ I told you before, child of dust, you will reign ten times—no, a thousand times—more chaos than I, the first prophet, ever did. }}}}}
A bitter laugh rose in his throat, one he smothered before it reached his lips. Chaos, huh? That's all I am to you?
Silence answered. The guide had withdrawn. Its absence was heavier than its presence, a hush that pressed on his lungs.
Atlas turned slowly, and Ureil's gaze caught him. Her golden eyes glowed brighter than usual, like molten metal beneath hammer strikes.
"...He speaks to me," Atlas said at last.
