Chapter 40: Old friend
The morning sun washed over the polished white stone of the medical wing, casting long shadows across the cobblestone pathway.
A full week had passed since Atlas had been rushed through the double doors, his body convulsing from the Grade-S Toxin riding Gregory’s hidden steel.
Throughout the week, the clinic’s chief physicians had practically made him a living specimen.
They ran countless diagnostic arrays, probed his soul anchor with restoration mana, and drew sample after sample of his blood, desperate to figure out how a mid-tier student had completely purged a necro-parasitic curse that should have dissolved his central nervous system.
But no matter how many glowing circles they projected over his chest, Skull’s Gluttony engine had digested every single trace of the poison, leaving behind nothing for them to analyze.
Defeated and thoroughly baffled, the medical board finally filed his discharge papers.
"And lastly, do not do anything foolish that might strain your recovery," the head physician said, his quill scratching hurriedly across a thick leather binder.
"Even though your vital signs are completely clear, we cannot be certain the curse is entirely gone. We don’t understand the exact mechanics of this toxin, so exercise extreme caution. Do not overexert yourself."
The physician wore a heavy, iridescent white lab coat that shimmered under the mana-lamps.
It was forged from high-density, anti-contagion silk — a specialized garb doctors donned only when dealing with unknown clinical anomalies or highly lethal biological curses to prevent cross-contamination.
"Thank you, Doctor," Atlas replied, offering a polite smile as he pulled his black uniform jacket over his shoulders. "I’ll be far more attentive to my surroundings from now on."
He was practically vibrating with impatience. The week had been an exercise in absolute boredom.
Beyond slipping out in the dead of night to the Soul Forge training section — doing a few quiet sparring rounds with Skull to test his suppressed form before sneaking back into his bed before morning check up rounds — his days had been an endless cycle of sterile walls and bland nutrient broths.
"I can see the restlessness burning in your eyes," the doctor warned, looking up over the rim of his spectacles. "I am repeating myself for a reason: do not do anything stupid. You were saved by a miracle. If you collapse again, we might not be able to pull you back. Do you understand me?"
"I hear you loud and clear, Doc," Atlas said, letting out a long, dramatic sigh.
"Fine. You’re dismissed." The physician stamped the bottom of the parchment with red wax and waved his hand toward the exit.
Atlas didn’t wait for a second invitation. He bolted out of the office, his boots clicking sharply against the marble floor as he sprinted down the wide corridor, weaving smoothly around startled nurses, floating gurneys, and patrolling guards.
Stepping out through the archway into the crisp morning air, he threw his arms wide and inhaled deeply. ’Finally. Freedom.’
He paused at the edge of the central plaza, looking around the unfamiliar stone buildings, towering spires, and paved paths.
’Wait... this isn’t the district where the tailor’s shop was,’ Atlas thought, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to orient himself. ’What was the name of the place seraphine took me the last time? How many medical wings does this academy even have?’
Just as he was about to wander toward a nearby area to ask for directions, a familiar voice drifted through the ambient chatter of the courtyard.
He turned his head and froze.
’Emma? What is she doing all the way out here?’
A short distance away across the carriage lane, Emma stood talking animatedly with another female student in light blue robes.
She hadn’t noticed him yet, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke. Atlas glanced around, looking for a departmental title sign on the surrounding archways, but found none.
Before he could decide whether to approach or slip away, a tall male student walked up behind the two girls and casually rested a hand on Emma’s shoulder.
Atlas paused, his dark green eyes narrowing slightly.
He shifted his footing, then took a decisive step forward.
"Hey, Emma!" he called out, his voice cutting through the clatter of passing carriages.
Emma turned instantly at the sound of her name.
Her neutral expression faltered for a fraction of a second, but the moment her eyes locked onto Atlas standing by the curb, her face lit up with unbridled joy.
Ignoring the guy standing beside her, she shoved past her companion and broke into a full sprint toward him.
"Atlas!" she cried out.
Atlas flinched, caught off guard by the sheer energy of her approach. He halted in his tracks as she closed the distance in a blur.
Without warning, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Taken aback, Atlas stood rigid for a moment before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her to return the hug.
But as her grip tightened with surprisingly high physical force, he gasped for air.
"Hey — not so hard — you’re going to break my ribs..." he wheezed, coughing heavily as he gently nudged her back by the shoulders.
"Oh! I’m so sorry!" Emma gasped, letting go immediately, her cheeks flushing pink. "I just... I missed you so much! Where have you been? Why do you look so pale? Are you sick?!"
Atlas blinked, staring at her deadpan. ’How in the world did she pick up on that so quickly? Is her perception trait leveling up?’
"I’m fine, nothing out of the ordinary," Atlas offered smoothly, giving a reassuring wave of his hand. "Just a bit of light fatigue. How have you been holding up?"
"Are you sure?" Emma asked, leaning in close and eyeing him suspiciously. "Your face looks like paper, and you look like you literally just fought your way out of a grave."
Atlas couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony, the tension leaving his shoulders. "Nothing that dramatic, I assure you."
"Well, if you say so," Emma said, folding her arms. "What are you even doing in this part of the campus anyway?"
"Honestly? I got completely lost," Atlas admitted with an awkward grin. "I’m trying to find the path back to the Class 5 dormitories, but I took a wrong turn at the main gates."
"Oh!" Emma’s eyes widened in understanding. "That makes sense. This is the secondary medical sector. It’s where the Support and Mage students work alongside the senior Healers to study soul energy applications. We learn how to stabilize combatants so we can act as field medics during high-tier engagements."
Atlas nodded, the pieces coming together. ’Ah, so that’s why. Does that mean Eric and his department have classes near here too?’
"To get back to our dorms," Emma continued, pointing down a broad, tree-lined avenue to the left, "you just follow that main road straight down. Don’t take any of the side branches — just keep going straight until you hit the iron gates."
"Got it. Thanks a lot, Emma," Atlas said, taking a step back to wrap up the conversation. "I really need to get back, wash off this hospital smell, and reset. Let’s catch up properly at the central cafeteria today around 3:00 PM, alright?"
Emma’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly, her shoulders drooping just a bit. "Oh... okay. I’ll see you there at three, then."
Atlas gave her a quick nod of appreciation and turned on his heel, picking up his pace as he headed down the tree-lined avenue.
As he walked, the fresh air cleared his head, his mind drifting to his roommates.
’I wonder how Derrick, Claus, and Eric have been holding up this past week. They probably think I was just stuck in mandatory isolation.’
After fifteen minutes of brisk walking, the familiar, imposing stone facade of the Class 5 dormitory complex rose into view.
Seeing the heavy iron gates and the ivy-covered walls brought a sudden, deep sense of relief washing over him.
After a week of sterile white rooms, pungent medicinal herbs, and endless blood draws, even the drafty dorms felt like paradise.
He passed through the archway, stepped into the quiet residential building, and navigated the familiar stone staircases until he reached his room.
Pulling out the brass spare key he had been issued when he signed up for the dormitory, he stepped up to the heavy wooden door.
But before he could insert the key into the lock, he noticed the latch was already disengaged. The door rested an inch open, a thin sliver of darkness showing from inside.
Atlas’s emerald eyes narrowed. He extended two fingers, cautiously pushing the door inward.
The hinges groaned softly. Inside, the room was in total, violent disarray — drawers yanked out and flipped, mattresses dragged off their frames, clothes scattered across the floor, and desk papers shredded into confetti.
Atlas froze in the doorway, his eyes sweeping over the destruction all over the place.
"What the hell happened in here? Was there a fight....?"