Chapter 372: Truly Want

Atlas’s eyes snapped open once again, but this time, he found himself in an unfamiliar infirmary. Various mechanisms hovered above him, connected to his body as they continued monitoring his condition. His hands twitched slightly at his sides before he felt someone else’s hand resting over his right hand.

The familiar sensation made his attention shift toward the figure sitting beside him, her head resting against the edge of the bed. ’Sera...’ His mind immediately drifted back to what his second self had told him about his condition.

"After you collapsed, ten whole days passed. During those ten days, your body continued recovering, yet even now, you haven’t fully healed." He also remembered the warning that followed those words:

"What you saw back then was something beyond our current existence. That information entered your consciousness and almost shattered your mind, so it’s best not to think about it right now." Remembering those words, Atlas tried to sit up, but the moment he moved, a sharp sting shot through his head.

"Khuk!" He immediately fell back against the pillow, unable to suppress the sound of pain that escaped his throat, ’Even after I’ve become this strong...’

His eyes drifted toward Seraphiel again, and the sight of her peaceful yet tear-stained expression struck him deeply. He felt as though something had tightened around his heart, squeezing it with an unfamiliar intensity.

Gritting his teeth, he recalled the remaining words his second self had spoken about her, "For now, you should worry about Sera once you’re back in your body. She stayed beside you for ten days straight, she cried and cried when you wouldn’t wake up, and she only fell asleep today."

Atlas remained silent as those words echoed in his mind, his gaze lingering on Seraphiel’s sleeping figure. After a moment, his thoughts shifted toward the other advice his second self had given him, particularly the part where the other him had insisted that he look deeper into himself.

The memory of that conversation returned with surprising clarity, including the punches that had accompanied his second self’s blunt words, "Now, about yourself. As I was saying, you should look deep inside and find out what you truly want. Until you understand that, you’ll always be this moron!"

Another punch had landed on Atlas’s face at that point, but his second self hadn’t stopped there. "Until you find that, you’ll always be hiding behind that facade. I’m not saying you need to, or will suddenly, become like a normal human being."

The other him had then continued, making his point clear despite his impatient manner, "I’m telling you to remove that invisible mask. Even if the person beneath it is colder and more ruthless... then so be it! You understand? That way, you won’t have this issue with trusting yourself, damnit!"

Another punch landed on Atlas’s face, making him remain still in that memory, ’What I... truly want.’ His thoughts gradually drifted toward the voice of his so-called mother and the words she had spoken to him.

’Perhaps my mind was swayed by her words? She said... I’m not yet at the stage where I can receive my memories back. Maybe, after hearing that, I subconsciously began wanting to reach that stage?’ His eyes shifted toward Seraphiel once again, and another thought slowly emerged within his mind.

’Perhaps I pushed the promise I made to her into the back of my mind and made that former objective my highest priority instead?’ Each question brought him a little closer to something he had never acknowledged before.

As he examined the thoughts he had kept buried within himself, one possibility gradually began to take shape, ’Perhaps... I wish to meet her?’

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye without him even realizing it.

For all his life, Atlas had never known what it felt like to have parents who cared for him. Even in the commoner village, he had seen parents showing their children warmth and affection, treating them with a tenderness that seemed entirely different from how they treated everyone else.

Despite the cruel world shaping them into ruthless people, many still showed their children a softer side that Atlas had never believed he could experience himself.

Back then, he had always turned away from such sights, convinced that such a life was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like him. After all, nobles could appear at any moment, take children away, and ruthlessly kill any parents who dared to resist.

Even if a family survived another day, there was no guarantee they would remain together, and Atlas had understood that reality from a young age.

He had never allowed himself to dwell on what it might feel like to have someone who cared for him in that way, choosing instead to focus on surviving in the world he had been born into. But now... after all those years, the possibility of meeting his own mother had stirred something within him that he couldn’t dismiss.

’I... I don’t understand. Why are tears coming to my eyes? Why?’ Atlas couldn’t comprehend the emotions rising within him, much less explain why the thought of meeting his mother affected him so deeply.

For a long moment, he remained motionless on the bed, staring at the ceiling as tears continued to roll silently down his cheeks.

’Is this really because of what she said? Is... she truly my mother?’ His thoughts continued circling around those questions, but no matter how much he considered them, he couldn’t find an answer that satisfied him.

Just as another tear slipped down his cheek, he felt a finger gently wipe it away, followed by another careful touch near the corner of his eye. His gaze slowly shifted toward Seraphiel, whose hand rested against his cheek as she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite understand.

The dark circles beneath her eyes and the marks left by dried tears made it clear how exhausted she was. Yet despite her exhaustion, she had remained beside him, and even now, her attention was entirely focused on him. "Sera..."

Atlas tried to call out to her, but his voice failed him, leaving only a faint sound escaping his throat. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t figure out what words would be appropriate when he didn’t even understand what was happening inside himself.

Seraphiel continued looking at his dazed expression, unsure of what had caused him to become like this. ’I’ve never seen him like this before...’ she thought, her concern growing as she moved closer to him.

"I’m glad you woke up, Atlas," she whispered before gently leaning her forehead against his. She remained in that position for a moment before continuing, "I don’t know what’s causing you to shed tears like this, and maybe you wouldn’t want to share what’s troubling you with me... but I still want to know."

"After all, your life is mine as well. Its burdens, joys, and everything else are mine too, aren’t they?" Her words caused Atlas’s dazed eyes to widen slightly, and he stared at her as though he were struggling to understand what she meant.

Gradually, his expression changed, becoming painful yet strangely calm, as if he were trying to suppress the emotions rising within him. He had spent so long keeping his thoughts to himself that opening up to someone else felt unfamiliar, even when that person was Seraphiel.

Nevertheless, his broken voice finally emerged from his throat, "I... I don’t understand, Sera. Th-there is this voice in my soul..." He hesitated briefly before continuing, explaining what the voice had told him and how it had claimed to be his mother. He didn’t leave anything out, allowing himself to speak without trying to organize every thought or find an explanation for each feeling.

Before beginning his explanation, Atlas had already altered the spatial logic of the infirmary, ensuring that their conversation would remain private between the two of them. Once he finished speaking, the room fell silent, with Seraphiel continuing to look at him as she considered everything he had shared.

’...He’s unable to understand his own feelings, and he’s also struggling to trust the mother whose voice he hears within his soul because two contradictory implications exist within him.’ She could understand why he was confused, especially when he didn’t even know whether the voice truly belonged to his mother.

Seraphiel remained silent for a long moment before gently tightening her grip on his hand, "Atlas, you don’t have to figure out everything right now," she said softly, giving him time to process her words before continuing.

"You don’t know whether that voice is truly your mother’s, and you don’t understand why you want to meet her then that’s fine. But..." She paused, her thumb gently brushing against the back of his hand, before asking, "Even if you don’t understand those feelings, does that mean they aren’t yours?"

Atlas’s eyes remained fixed on her as he tried to process the question.

Seraphiel held his hand without looking away, her expression remaining gentle as she continued, "Wasn’t it the same with us? We didn’t fully understand how deeply we loved each other back then, did we? Yet we accepted those feelings as our own, didn’t we, Atlas?"