CHAPTER 208: CHAPTER 209: LET GO

Atlas gazed at his side. Claire and Lara—still frozen in place. Not breathing. Not blinking. Their hair fluttered gently in the mana-stilled air like underwater reeds suspended in motion.

He extended a hand. Tapped Claire’s shoulder.

Nothing.

Not a twitch. Not a recoil. Her skin warm, yet caught in a moment she could no longer feel.

"Hmm..." Atlas tilted his head slightly, his voice soft and curious. "It’s more powerful than before."

This wasn’t the time-slow he had once witnessed. This wasn’t just a Law. It was the silence of creation being re-written. A pause not just in time, but in recognition—the world halting because it no longer knew what to do with him?

He took another breath. It felt... meaningless.

Air passed through his lungs as if he were pretending to be alive.

A flicker of unease crawled along his spine.

Light.

That was what he felt like now. Not strong. Not fast. Not superior.

Just—light. As if mass had loosened its grip. As if the cords that bound man to soil, to identity, to death... had frayed.

Like the world no longer saw him.

Like the universe had removed him from its list.

He stepped forward. A feathered motion.

Each step less grounded. Each motion rejected by gravity, not out of rebellion—but unfamiliarity. The very field of existence no longer recognized him as a participant in its rules.

A breeze passed by. Or perhaps it didn’t. The wind too, forgot to brush his skin.

What am I becoming...?

His mind flashed back to the moment he’d awakened. The system refusing him. His name erased. Even now, his own soul felt like it hovered just slightly outside his body—watching from an inch behind his skull.

Another step forward. The battlefield lay frozen, drenched in golden stasis. Sparks mid-air. Swords half-swing. Mages locked mid-incantation. All paused.

He could hear the silence between atoms.

The world... waiting.

And something deeper inside him stirred.

Not hunger. Not rage.

Instinct.

A voice without words, rooted in his new marrow, urging him to rise. To leave.

To go beyond.

And so he did.

He bent his knees, not even halfway—and launched upward.

No pull.

No descent.

He rose like a wisp of dark matter, untouched by drag, unhindered by inertia. The air shimmered around his skin as he passed through the layers of atmosphere like parchment pages.

Below him, the war stilled in fractal precision.

Above him—the sky opened.

He should’ve feared it. The height. The fall.

But he wasn’t falling.

He wasn’t even flying.

He was... exempt.

Gravity was no longer a command. Just a suggestion.

"...I’m floating," he whispered. But even that didn’t feel accurate.

"No... I’m actually flying," he realized.

And just ahead—he saw her.

Aurora.

Suspended mid-air near a burning crescent of blue mana, her robes half-torn, her hair matted with sweat. Her fingers trembled, barely holding together the arcane structure collapsing between her hands.

She was chanting.

Her voice cracked with strain. Her eyes bloodshot. A circle of ancient sigils spun behind her head, fracturing in places, struggling to keep form.

Atlas heard her clearly now.

"I, Aurora... use the relic of the Council... call upon the Seven Demon Kings for a seeking—"

"Stop," Atlas called out, voice sharper than wind.

The spell hiccupped.

Aurora turned.

Her lips parted. Her jaw unhinged in disbelief.

"...Atlas?" she whispered.

He nodded once.

The strands of his obsidian-black hair floated with him, almost forming constellations in the air. His aura wasn’t just magic anymore—it was rejection. The world bending away from him, not toward.

Aurora stared, sweat trailing down her temple, breath shallow.

"How...?" she asked.

Atlas glanced downward at the flickering runes encircling her chest.

"...Long story," he replied. "But right now... what the hell is happening? Who’s that old bastard? Why does it feel like he’s trying to evaporate everything?"

Aurora grit her teeth, her hands convulsing as she held the Law from breaking.

"...He’s my master. One of the few who understood the language of Laws. But now..." Her voice cracked. "He’s trying to use it to... change matter. He kept muttering... ’Hydro... Helio... something...’"

Atlas’s eyes narrowed. His Truth Vision ignited, casting golden fractals over the visible world.

And then he saw it.

The particles shifting. Rearranging. Warping from hydrogen to helium. Atomic collapse.

His mouth tightened.

Hydrogen... helium... oh no. No, no, no...

"...Is this idiot trying to ignite fusion on this planet?"

He stepped forward—still hovering in place. A disgusted breath left him.

"Haaa... heard half-knowledge is dangerous. Guess it’s true."

Then, his eyes locked onto it.

The book.

Suspended just beyond the Aurora.

The same book.

The one from the dreaming. From the in-between realm. The one Guide had shown him.

Its pages fluttered unnaturally in zero-wind. Calling.

"Wait... is that—?"

"That’s..." Aurora struggled. "You won’t understand. That’s the Codex. The original one. A copy of the Pre-Law. It should be impossible to—"

But she stopped speaking.

The book began floating—toward Atlas.

"Wait. Wait! Where are you going?!" Aurora snapped, watching helplessly.

He didn’t answer.

The book stopped an inch before him, and opened.

Its pages fluttered violently.

Then still.

A sentence glowed gold:

LAW 37: Nature is not an obligation. It is a tradition.

Another turned.

LAW 40: Fusion requires permission. Denied.

Atlas smiled faintly. His thumb brushed the page. He felt recognized.

Not by the world.

But by this.

"...Drop your Law, Aurora," he said calmly.

She flinched.

"Huh?!"

"Drop it."

"But... are you sure?" Her eyes darted to the book now comfortably resting in Atlas’s hands. The scriptures meant nothing to her. But his eyes moved across them like someone reading a lullaby.

His voice came low. Certain. Confident.

"Yes."

Aurora hesitated. Her mana was at its end. Her bones rattled. But his voice—it didn’t waver. And something about the way the Codex obeyed him...

She let go.

The Law unraveled.

And the sun came to be.

BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!

A white blast expanded across the sky. A shockwave tore apart clouds. A ripple of heat, like the birthing of a star, spread in every direction. The old man at the center of the fusion attempt was consumed in blinding golden fire.