Atlas sat down beside the lone head, crossing his legs and assuming a meditative position.
He closed his eyes and focused inward, letting his chaotic energy settle. Time slipped away unnoticed —an hour passed like a single fleeting second.
When his eyes opened again, they no longer blazed with unrestrained ferocity. Instead, they had returned to their usual calm, calculating state —the same subtly intimidating crimson hue that carried both dominance and composure.
He turned his gaze toward the severed head beside him and smiled faintly. The hunger flickered behind his eyes once more, primal and insistent —but this time, it was controlled.
In just an hour, he had done what most could not in centuries —he mastered his hunger. Such was the terrifying extent of his will. No one could conquer him —not even himself.
"So, you were a Spirit Guardian," Atlas muttered, his tone carrying equal parts curiosity and amusement as his eyes caught the faint gleam of the white core beside the black bracelet.
Without hesitation, he reached out and picked up the glowing core. He studied it briefly, feeling the hum of divine essence within —then, with a predatory smirk, he tossed it into his mouth and swallowed it whole.
Instantly, a surge of divine energy rippled through his being. His veins ignited with radiant light as his divinity evolved, stabilizing into the form of a High-ranked Constellation. His aura grew sharper, denser —refined into something far beyond what he had possessed before.
Once the transformation subsided, Atlas picked up the black bracelet, examining its sinister design and the pulsing gem embedded within. He glanced at himself —his upper body was bare, his skin marred with faint traces of dried blood and battle scorch, only his pants remaining intact.
"Not quite fitting for a Constellation," he mused.
Summoning his divine power, he manipulated it into a set of clothes —a dark suit, regal, and lined with faint crimson threads that pulsed in harmony with his aura. Once dressed, he slipped the black bracelet into his pocket, concealing its dark energy from immediate reach.
Then, he lifted his gaze toward the distant horizon. The air shimmered faintly —a reminder that this was still a fractured dimension.
"How am I going to leave this place?" he muttered to himself.
He pondered for a while, his mind sifting through possibilities. Then, a dangerous yet brilliant idea formed.
"What if I overwhelm this dimension with my divinity? It's unstable already… If it collapses under pressure, it might eject me —maybe even back to Earth," he thought aloud, eyes narrowing in resolve.
Without hesitation, Atlas unleashed his divinity.
The air trembled. The ground cracked. Space itself distorted under the immense pressure of his presence. His divine power expanded outward like a storm, pressing against the fragile boundaries of the dimension until the reality around him began to shatter.
Then, with a deafening snap, the dimension collapsed —and Atlas was expelled.
When he opened his eyes again, he was adrift in space.
At first, he thought he had returned to Earth, but as he looked around, he realized the truth. There were no planets, no moon, no sun —only asteroids and fragments of worlds, drifting endlessly in the void.
And at the center of that cosmic wreckage, he saw her.
Lilim.
Her unconscious body floated weightlessly amid the debris, her black hair flowing like ink across the starlit emptiness.
Atlas vanished from where he floated, reappearing before her in an instant. He didn't even understand how he had done it —his movement was instantaneous, as though space itself obeyed him.
He caught her gently, his hands brushing against her cold skin. Her body wasn't frozen, but faint trails of dried blood marked her cheeks.
A cold fury ignited in his chest.
Who could have hurt her? he thought. But almost immediately, he corrected himself.
No one can hurt Lilim… so not who —but what hurt her?
He shook her gently, attempting to wake her, but she remained unresponsive. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp.
Then, deciding to use the only method that ever worked with her, Atlas pressed his lips against hers.
It worked instantly.
Lilim gasped softly as her eyes fluttered open, glowing faintly with divine darkness. "Master!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.
Her embrace was fierce, almost crushing, but Atlas didn't resist. For a brief, quiet moment, he allowed her warmth to anchor him.
When she finally released him —after what felt like an eternity —Atlas looked into her eyes.
"What happened? What hurt you?" he asked, his tone calm but edged with concern.
Lilim smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Nothing hurt me," she said gently. "I was just… caught off guard by your summons."
Atlas frowned. "My summons?" he echoed, confused.
Then, a flicker of realization crossed his face as he recalled the thousand voices he had heard in his blood —the desperate plea that bound everything together.
"Oh," he muttered quietly.
Lilim's lips curved into a knowing smile, her obsidian eyes shimmering as she studied him. "Oh, Master… you've ascended to a High-tier Constellation —and even acquired your Conceptual Divinity?" she said, her tone filled with admiration and pride.
"My… conceptual divinity?" Atlas asked, slightly taken aback.
"Yes," Lilim said, nodding. "I can sense it —a new divinity within you. Unlike your the other two —Life and Death—which you've acquired through domination, this one is far more dominant. It's the divinity of Blood. That's your Conceptual Divinity —the core that defines your existence and worship."
She drifted closer to him, her tone growing reverent. "Conceptual Divinity is the divine law that determines a god's growth. It's the foundation of their worship and the essence of their domain. Usually, one only acquires it after ascending into full Godhood… yet you've manifested it while still among the Constellations. That's… unprecedented."
Atlas listened intently, his expression calm but thoughtful. "And yours?" he asked curiously. "What's your Conceptual Divinity?"
Lilim's smile deepened, though a faint, dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. "Mine is Death," she replied softly. "Every death I cause with my own hands feeds my divinity —it grows stronger with each soul I personally deliver to oblivion."
Atlas's eyes widened slightly, intrigued —and inwardly, thrilled.
That's too powerful, he thought, his lips curling into a faint, approving smile. To command such a woman… to hold the leash of a being who embodied death itself —was nothing short of exhilarating.