{{{{{{{{{HHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!}}}}}}}}}}}}
The roar was not sound. It was meaning made too large for any throat to contain.
It rolled across the world like a pressure wave older than language, vibrating the roots of mountains until stone sang in frequencies only glaciers could hear.
Oceans pulled inward in perfect hemispheric tides, exposing seabeds that had never seen daylight. The sky fractured into concentric ripples of pale green and violet, as if reality itself had been struck and was ringing.
Atlas felt the fragments slam into him—not as words, but as concepts too vast for translation.
'Blood....?Lineage..Continuance. Family....? What the freak is she saying?"
They lodged in his chest like shrapnel. His demon-god heart stuttered once, then pounded in answer. Something deep and draconic uncoiled inside him, recognizing the call before his mind could.
He did not think. He answered.
"Haaa..."
