CHAPTER 373: CHAPTER 362: I’M HERE

Atlas dropped.

No, he fell—not merely through air or battle, but through something deeper. Reality itself shuddered around him as though trying to hold onto his existence, to keep him from dissolving into the abyss that howled beneath.

The force of his strike had been meant to unmake Asmodeus, to sever the demon king’s name from history. It was more than power—it was law given motion, command given flesh. But as his knuckle collided with the shimmering veil of Asmodeus’s defense, the world cracked, and Atlas felt something wrong.

The law hesitated.

His body trembled mid-strike, the pulse of reality faltering. For the first time since he had touched the mantle of the Guide, his will hitched. But it was his will, but of Atlas.

The shock echoed through every thread of his being, from the marrow of his bones to the glyphs that burned along his skin. His heart thudded faster, too fast, and each beat carried a whisper not of triumph—but of panic.

"Hey—what’s happening?" the Guide asked inside him, voice sharp, threaded with alarm. The echo of an ancient intelligence, one older than any god, stirred uneasily.

Atlas gritted his teeth.

’Shut up and focus on the enemy’... he told the Guide. But even as he said it, his vision blurred. Shadows thickened, memories swam up—Lara’s smile, Eli’s laughter, Claire’s mocking smirk.

He was losing tether.

"I need to go back," he whispered, barely audible even to himself. "Back to Lara... back to everyone..."

But his body wasn’t listening. His connection to the others was fraying like an old rope snapping one strand at a time.

He tried to grasp the link—the silver thread that bound his mind to theirs, the network of souls he had forged.

[POV changing to Lara]

[Failed]

[Link unstable. Host is too powerful for Lara. Her mind may be tarnished.]

"Fuck," Atlas hissed through clenched teeth. Sweat—or was it blood?—ran down his cheek, warm against his trembling jaw.

"Maybe... Eli," he muttered, his thoughts flickering.

[POV changing to Eli]

[Failed]

"Shit, shit, shit—Claire then—"

[POV changing to Claire]

[Failed]

"..."

His mind fell silent. Not the silence of calm—but of collapse. The silence before a scream. Panic surged through him, raw and unfiltered. The Guide’s presence flared in warning.

Then—

[Link to SEED available]

The words burned across his consciousness like light through smoke.

"What—?"

The world around him warped. The crimson landscape of Asmodeus’s realm bled away into mist, as if refusing to exist under the weight of what he was about to do.

[Host weakening. Dimensional integrity unstable.]

Atlas felt his strength ebbing, his divine circuits dimming, his pulse unraveling into light.

Then came the whisper.

A soft, familiar voice.

[Seed asking for link]

"...huh?"

[Seed: Father... I can help. Link with me.]

Atlas’s breath hitched. His mind reeled. Father?

He remembered the cat. The creature that the system had showed him —the Seed of Isabella. Once a mere construct, a fragment of an experiment, a thing that should never have had a soul.

But the voice was clear, tender, almost human.

He didn’t hesitate. "Link... link with Seed."

[POV changing to Seed]

Light tore through him. His vision splintered into a thousand fragments—and then reformed.

Snow. Endless, whispering snow.

He blinked, confusion cutting through the haze. His body was small—furred, light, alive. His paws sank into the cold white of the Second Layer. The wind carried the scent of blood and frost.

He turned. And froze.

He saw them.

Eli, sword drawn and face bloodied.

Lara, her eyes fierce with defiance.

Claire, her wings out, her succubus horns gleaming like black glass beneath the crimson light.

And Merlin, barely standing, his body stitched together by raw will and unstable mana.

All of them surrounded by the fallens.

Above, wings spread wide, hovered Michael. His form radiated divinity so intense it burned the air, feathers shedding gold dust that seared the snow beneath.

Atlas’s—no, Seed’s—heart thumped fast, animal-fast. Fear pulsed through his veins.

He watched as Michael raised his sword, its edge alive with holy fire.

"Mortals," Michael intoned, his voice layered, each syllable vibrating through the bones of the world. "You have freed me. Weakened your protector in the process. For that, I offer mercy. Leave now, and your deaths will be swift."

But his gaze turned toward Claire, and his tone hardened.

"But her—"

He pointed. The gesture alone distorted the air.

"She is an abomination. The spawn of Lilith runs through her veins. One among the Genesis. I will not suffer her existence." he beloud, sparking hate from his deep, deep core. His anguished burning eyes telling it all.

Claire’s breath trembled, but she didn’t move. She merely met the archangel’s gaze and whispered, "Then come and try...."

Eli stepped in front of her, blades crossing. "You’ll have to kill me first."

"....then so be it," Michael replied, almost gently.

Merlin staggered forward, his robes in tatters, one eye dark with decay. "Atlas was meant to stop this..." he rasped. "He was supposed to—"

Lara cut him off. "He will." Her voice carried across the battlefield, echoing against the snow cliffs. "He’s alive. I feel him."

Michael sighed, and for an instant, sadness flickered across his face. "You should not make me weep for what I must do."

He raised his hand. Light coiled around it, forming patterns older than stars.

"The blood of Lilith, the creator of the fairy virus, shall not stain Heaven or Hell once more."

He opened his palm. The cold wind screamed.

And then—

The whisper of steel cutting air.

A sword—no, the sword—Uriel’s flaming blade—came spinning through the blizzard.

It landed on Michael’s arm, sinking into his grip. The light dimmed for a heartbeat.

"Die," a voice echoed— Michael’s.

The flame flared white-hot, the purest fire of all, consuming even the air around it.

The cat recoiled, Atlas’s control lasing lose, snow spraying as he stumbled back. The holy fire reflected in his feline eyes, mirrored in a thousand shards of ice.

He could feel Atlas—somewhere distant, bleeding into his consciousness.

Hold... it together, Atlas’s voice whispered faintly. See everything... remember it all.

The Seed trembled, claws digging into the frost.

He saw Claire fall to her knees, wings shielding Lara and Eli from the blinding light. Her scream tore through the storm, not of pain—but defiance.

Flames licked at her wings. The black veins of Lilith’s power pulsed across her skin, consuming and rebirthing her all at once. Her eyes turned violet, glowing with the same hue that once illuminated the night Lilith defied God.

The Seed felt the world crack open around her.

Eli lunged, screaming something lost in the roar of the fire. His blade struck against divine radiance, sparks scattering like stars. He was fast—too fast for a human—but Michael barely moved. Each motion of the archangel carried the weight of an era.

With a single sweep, Michael’s wings flared. The snow melted in a ring around him. Eli was thrown back, colliding with a shattered pillar of ice.

Merlin’s voice rose, incantations spilling from his lips. His remaining eye glowed white. Runes carved themselves into the ground, drawing circles of forbidden magic.

"Gods damn you all!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "come on moooovvveeee!"

[Skill holy fire Used]

The earth responded.

Flames erupted. Not holy, not infernal—but something older. A fire of creation itself, stolen from the first forge of existence.

It wrapped around Michael, forcing him to halt. The angel’s expression darkened. "what!!...whoo!!??..You wield what you cannot comprehend....this is my ...our Fire..."

"Then enlighten me," a voice spat, dripping from the corner.

Michael turned his neck, as he rose raised his sword again. The flaming blade shimmered—the Sword of Uriel, sanctified by divine wrath.

"...a cat?...you Insect!!!."

He swung.

The blow cleaved through the air. Runes shattered. Merlin’s body was thrown into the snow, lifeless before he hit the ground.

Lara screamed.

The cat, flinched, the sound cutting through him like lightning. Something in his small chest ached—a memory not his own. Atlas’s grief, raw and suffocating, rippled through the link.

No more... Atlas’s voice echoed, faint and broken. Don’t let it end here.

The Seed lifted his head. His fur bristled. The link flared.

[Emergency Protocol Engaged: Link Stabilization Active]

The snow around him began to hum. His shadow stretched, long and strange, twisting into something almost human.

Light poured from his eyes—a small spark, ancient and divine. The cat roared, and the sound was not feline.

The air rippled.

Michael turned. His gaze fell upon the creature—a cat wreathed in light and darkness both.

"What...what are you?"

The Seed’s voice—Atlas’s voice—answered through him. "Something you should not have pissed off..."

The explosion that followed was silent. The snow evaporated. As he flared the holy fire within his body. Not even burning a single hair on him. The holy fire resistance he had acquired before, now finally came in clutch. Not in the way he wanted. But it became useful indeed.

As the holy fire burmed everything, everything, even the fallen angels, but the ever so powerful fire lay blooming on the animal. But was not harmed. And the cat looked at Lara and everyone, its golden eyes burning bright.

"...I’m here."