Atomu struggled.

Thrashed to the ground, stepped on, skin being ripped off, new cuts forming themselves out of nowhere, blackeyes, crushed finger bones, claws ripping into flesh and hands pulling on his horns or hair.

He witnessed it all, to a greater extent, but he never seemed to give up. It was all in vain, wasn't it? His weapon wasn't going to save him, there was no Mariam to help him out of this cause either. If she was, this would've never happened in the first place.

The blade's usual, reddish shine gleamed sporadically purple, and the only time his eyes were open, they were, once again, glued to it.

Despite the fervour, Atomu crawled forward, a bloody, broken mess. "What do you want?!" he yelled to the blade, putting his hands on its sharp finish. The eye directly looked back. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" he raised his voice, just as another foot stepped on his head.

The demons weren't trying to rescue the blade from his hands. They wanted to kill Atomu.

He closed his eyes, coughing out. He thrashed the blade, inching closer towards the eye.

Its colour shifted, towards a crimson hue.

His hands were too weak to conjure demonic spells or whatnot. He got used to being a human. Knrhum seemed to be the opposite, in that case. He struck, violently, despite slumbering deep inside the blade.

Back then, though, in Magna, it saved him. It saved him from death, sending fear into the hearts of many, yet, singlehandedly sparing the town from its demise.

Whose power was it? Knrhum's will to live, or Atomu's thoughts to fight for what needed to be recovered? What was the right choice, back then?

Would death make up for it? Maybe, he'd apologize to Chyuuichi afterwards.

"I'm sorry." he thought, as his eyes focused only on the blade.

Would Elton be waiting there for him as well? How would he react to seeing Atomu fall to such an abysmal tragedy? In Orania, the place one would call heaven on Errarion grounds. Did his family believe in the same tale the Turons did?

Even though distant, they were all waiting in Prope Portam. Praying for the impossible to occur.

Why should he die? Why should he live?

"Do you understand, Atomu? Fight for them," she repeated, her words indefinitely echoing into Atomu's mind. "Even if it hurts, keep fighting."

Atomu clenched his fist, despite the simple pain of doing so.

Fight.

How was he to fight without a weapon? Back then, they were working together, to achieve something.

To make up for someone's mistakes, to erase what was wrong in this world.

Knrhum already saved Atomu.

Atomu had to save Knrhum.

***

In a flash, and much like on command, all the lights around Orania started lighting up, one by one. Oran Paladians peeked their heads out of their domes. Their eyes widened when brows were raised at the sight of Atomu, barely crawling out of the crowd.

Barely, but surely.

Atomu screamed, getting back on his feet and yelling into the air. Now, with the weapon in both arms, he looked directly into the thousands of eyes of the demonic army, ready to strike.

The weapon sparkled the same way his eyes shone, and seemed to reflect the fiery passion, lit up, much like every light above.

His questions were finally heard, and although unanswered, seemed to have a conclusion in his heart.

It was all his fault, this entire time. His wrongs, and rights, all stemmed from Atomu keeping it all to himself, and by chance, smashing them all into his Guardian Demon. It always listened, it always knew about his struggles.

It understood them and wanted to exploit them.

Atomu always witnessed it being someone else who was hurt. It was the Morians, who were sent off to Morta with his faux advice. It was the city of Magna, crushing down on itself because he wasn't strong enough to fight. It was Elton who died because he sacrificed himself so that the other Paladian wouldn't take a hit.

It was Bancho's body which was carried here, not his. It was Chyuuichi, actively losing bits and pieces of his life, in a place where he should've been cured. No matter how hard he thought about it, he was the only one who could ease his pain.

The more pain you receive, the harder it becomes to pierce through your shell, and the easier it is to take it in.

It came time that he was to finally receive some of these wounds.

He sure as hell deserved them.

Hastily breathing in, his hand reached into his pocket, digging out the Clavis Crystal. He looked at its sparkle, for a second, before directly staring forward.

He had something else in mind. Bearing the sword, he started a mad dash up the stairs of the tree, with the army following right after, screaming their souls out.

He ran as fast as he could, but there was no way to outspeed them. Nevertheless, it seemed his struggles weren't to stop him from treading a different path.

At first, it was a hunch, but Atomu soon realised he knew when threats were coming. With a swift jump, he avoided a spiky, iron ball strike and jumped off to the side, his sword sticking into the tree, slowly moving forward.

Atomu looked up. The eye looked back at him.

Sometimes, an arrow would pass through his arm, and a distant sword thrown in his way would cut off chunks of his hair, but it didn't seem like the pain could drag him down.

With a swift flight up the branch, Atomu's weak legs started shaking, before moving forward, only for the army to follow his step. His eyes were too weak to stay open, but even if they weren't, he sensed the incoming flunks of attacks, from left and right, with the ground twisting beneath him.

As if under some magic spell, his mind seemed to reach a place further down the branch, as if something was waiting on the other side of this massive bridge.

When his eyes were open, the branch didn't resemble the road it was beforehand. It was as if the tree itself was actively fighting against the horde, dropping some of them to the ground, making it harder for Atomu to focus.

His glance landed forward, and the tree shifted again to halt his progress.

"Chyuuichi's somewhere there," he muttered to himself, spitting to the side, before jumping up, right as a smaller twig was to swipe through his leg. Somehow, he could sense the impending danger. The eye on the blade was now half-open, and Atomu's fists were clenched.

He swiftly moved, avoiding each strike, twist and turn, kicking down the demons with his legs and finally making his way towards where he felt like his friend could've been.

Was it just a hunch, or was Atomu right all along? Was Knrhum helping him out of this kerfuffle? Did he believe hard enough to create something magical? He didn't understand, but questions were out of the water if he had an answer.

He always hesitated with his choices, backing down, afraid to take a wrong turn. With this magic, there was no opportunity for him to screw things up. Much like reflecting his soul, the magic always sought the answer, not the question.

With one slice across the wood, his legs landed under Chyuuichi's body. It was cold, contrasting the bloodied heat he became. The cocoon was gone, and Rowan was nowhere to be seen, but then again, it felt like everyone's eyes were watching him. He didn't seem to care if this was the right choice.

With a weak hand, he smashed the Clavis Crystal's top into the wood, unearthing the vial-like opening, where a certain liquid oozed a very light odour. The tree was still fighting, and the army grew closer, but Atomu had no time to waste. He opened Chyuuichi's hand, right as the liquid was poured over his open wound. "Please," he muttered, closing his palm around Chyuuichi's.

The liquid soon disappeared, and he only breathed out. Grinding his teeth, he slid Chyuuichi's body forward, and closed his eyes, standing up.

After all, he didn't need them to know that another storm of the same demons was coming. With a swift strike forward, he was ready to fight, for once in his life.

The blade stuck itself inside the twisting branches, sending a shockwave, which created a rift below the tree, sucking every demon in. Chyuuichi was left on the crashing branch, while Atomu tumbled to the ground.

Although, this time, he didn't scream. He knew pain was coming, but was ready to face it. Instead of holding onto some blind, strange hope, he fought.

Knrhum's Blade clashed with the various weapons, allowing him to bend forward and swipe through the bodies of the demons, one by one. It wasn't Knrhum who was working it all in, but Atomu, on the side of his efforts. The more he fought, the more pain he received, the stronger he became.

Each swipe seemed more detrimental than the last, and even if they headed towards the ground, this rush wasn't to be stopped.

The eye started closing, and Atomu sensed another demon striking from the side. He received a hit on the back, but it didn't hurt.

His face was punched in, but he didn't care.

Atomu fought back, despite how hard it was to stand, fly, or even move. He never complained but sought to make things right.

Right... what's right and what's wrong in this situation? What did he fight for, if hope was as bleak as earlier?

A smile appeared on his face.

"For Chyuuichi," he uttered, with half a breath.

For Chyuuichi. To fix a mistake meant going back to the time before there was no mishap, and Atomu, after all, wanted things to be the way they've always been.

The Mirillian was always there. If pain was a pathway to coming to a world without those troubles, it was all that mattered.

***

Rowan crawled around the mess, coughing out. "Wood-dust," they uttered, covering their mouth, and fixing their glasses, as more steps led towards the crashed branch on the grass, forming a massive hole in the ground.

Their hand was bleeding, and they pressured the wound at first, but quickly came to bear the bow to fight against a potential threat.

Various Oran Paladians gathered around the sight, curiously watching, observing, and keeping their eyes glued to the Tributal's weapon.

"Atomu?" they called. "Chyuuichi? Where on Errarion are you?" they raised their voice amongst various whispers. They squinted their eyes, coughing again, before jumping down the crashed branch, and moving towards where they swore the stairs began.

They kept following noises, which turned into heavy, sporadical breaths. Deep, foggy and full of exhausted worry.

Rowan raised their eyebrows, before letting go of the bow's string, putting the entire weapon down. "Atomu?!"

Atomu stood still, staring forward, and as the wood dust settled onto the ground, absorbed by the leaves and grass, the thousands of slaughtered demons revealed themselves, lying in the grass.

Atomu looked like a mess, to be frank. Thousands of smaller cuts, hundreds of bigger wounds, with some that would surely turn into scars. Bleeding coming from places it probably shouldn't, shaky arms, shaky legs. In general, Atomu barely resembled himself, and despite all that, his eyes shone.

"What's with all the wounds? The corpses?!" Rowan opened their mouth. "What the hell happened here, Atomu?!"

Atomu breathed out, quickly, swallowing saliva.

"Nothing, Rowan." he smiled. "Nothing happened. Nothing at all!"

The Paladian collapsed, fainting.

***

The sun cascaded over the Paladian's hand, as it was the first thing his eyes managed to focus on.

It looked a little different than before. Gone was the blood, but present were faded-out wounds or forming scars, a few wrapped with the same beige cloth all the Oran Paladians bore, only soaked in dried-out crimson liquid.

He looked up, seeing the wooden ceiling. He lay on warm, Gorro grass. It used to be cold, but everything was back to how it once was, in the span of... he really couldn't tell.

The paladian sat up, eventually, feeling slight pain in his back and abdomen, but he stared forward.

Orania didn't necessarily resemble the place it once was. The massive branch lay in big pieces on the ground, and the soil was reddish, although the demonic bodies seemed to have disappeared.

The tree looked different. What once could've been described as this stoic, massive oak, seemed to have shrunk in size, ever so slightly, but its crown bore new lime leaves. One fell on his head, even though he didn't leave the comfort of the destroyed cocoon.

He noticed the Oran Paladians, tending to the flowers which grew in various places, and a few pushing their hands on the tree, with water flowing down, creating a river around Bancho's grave.

Atomu huffed.

"Oh?!" A sound came from above, and when Atomu glanced, a head peeked out, diving into the cocoon. "You're awake!" Chyuuichi yelled, before jumping inside.

Without a second thought, the Mirilian hugged the Paladian tight with a big, happy smile. Atomu beamed, patting his back a few times, before letting go.

Chyuuichi's embrace was warm, and his eyes didn't seem tired. Hair which looked like straw a few days ago was once again, as unkempt and strange-looking as before. Most importantly, the only thing present on his palm was a scar.

"Don't ya dare scare me like that ever again!" he pointed.

"Scare you..?" Atomu asked, lifting himself.

"Rowan cried!"

"I DID NOT CRY!" Rowan yelled. "Dust got into my eyes."

"Ya cried!" Chyuuichi pointed.

"I-It's okay." Atomu chuckled. "I'm alive," he muttered. "Felt better, though."

"Feel better quicker! The witch lady, um." he pushed his hands together. "Marina! She wants something from us!" Chyuuichi stood up, running out of the cocoon and in the direction of the other Oran Paladians.

The Paladian watched as the other members of the Klakunhoi, despite their bickering, helped each other in tending to the other people of Orania. They didn't want to fix the branch, but rather, create a new harmony alongside it.

Atomu's gaze finally shifted towards a floating figure in the distance.

Mariam smiled.