CHAPTER 213: CHAPTER 214:LET THERE BE THUNDER

"...Let’s say my family," Loki, the demigod, voiced.

The fire dimmed inside the tent. Not the real fire—just the sense of warmth it gave. The moment that word left Loki’s mouth, the atmosphere shifted. Something ancient turned its head.

Atlas stood up right away. Not slowly, not dramatically—he just rose. Instinct. The mention of Loki’s family wasn’t idle. Not in a world like theirs. And definitely not after everything that had happened.

Aurora stopped mid-breath. Her eyes went to Atlas, then back to Loki.

Atlas’s voice was low, clenched. "Aurora... is it because of..."

She bit her lip. A hesitation. A fracture.

"...I know.. my master... but..."

But that wasn’t the point, was it? The words came like splinters, failing to cover a deeper fear. A fear she couldn’t yet name.

Atlas paced out of the tent, the flap slapping against the wind. Rain met him like a slap—cold, thin, invasive. His breath fogged the air. Each drop pierced his skin, but he didn’t flinch. He wanted to feel it. To feel something. Maybe the rain could numb the war blooming inside his chest.

Others followed. Quietly. One by one. None dared speak. The rain soaked their cloaks, their armor, their skin—until they were all shadowed silhouettes in the dark. Standing. Waiting.

Then thunder rolled.

But not the normal kind. No rumble. No gentle warning.

It screamed.

A roar. A tear through the heavens. So sharp it cracked a nearby boulder, split a tree in half, sent birds scattering like ash in a storm.

Atlas narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t rain-thunder. That was...something else.

His skin itched. His heartbeat shifted. Like a distant drum aligning to a divine rhythm. Something was here. Watching.

Maybe it was because of his transformation. Maybe it was his heritage. But he smelled it now. That sharp, ion-like scent of divine power. Like metal and heaven’s breath.

He turned to the side—Merlin was already stepping forward.

No fear. No cloak. The old man walked through the storm as if it were sun.

And still, the thunder grew.

’It’s not just thunder,’ Atlas thought. ’It’s speech. It’s judgment.’

Then, a voice came. No, it was thunder. The thunder was the voice.

.....Who hath committed heresy?!.....

THUUUNNNDDDERRRR!!!

The air vibrated at a frequency only gods understood. It wasn’t spoken—it was declared. A vibration carved into the bones of the world.

Atlas clenched his jaw. Even Claire, who rarely showed much reverence, took a step back. The trees bowed. The clouds gathered like a crown.

But not Merlin.

The old man was still.

Atlas had always viewed him as a relic—one of many decaying minds desperate for knowledge. But this was different. Merlin’s posture was... angry.

No, deeper. Ancient.

Before, he had been afraid—of power, of failure, of reaching the ceiling of knowledge. While Aurora had dived downward, clawing into hell for forbidden wisdom, Merlin had looked up instead.

He went high. Too high.

And came back shattered.

Now that fear was gone. Burned away. And what remained was something even more dangerous—regret wrapped in rage.

A rage that could challenge thunder.

Merlin raised his head.

".....It’s me," he said plainly. "...I was the one."

Silence fell before the next roar and then recognition. As old as Merlin was. Even the gods recognized him. But....

...Merlin... the godly voice thundered. ...you... you never learn, do you?

"Haha.....Never have," Merlin said, eyes locked on the clouds. "And ....never will."

THUNDER!!!!!

It felt like the sky cracked open. Raw light poured across the land. Several soldiers fell to their knees, covering their ears.

Aurora’s hands clenched.

She took a step forward, mouth tight. Her trauma swelled like a wave inside her.

"Fucking old man... just apologize!" she snapped.

Atlas watched. Torn. Part of him wanted to intervene. But who was Merlin to him? An old fool with too much power and no restraint. Another time bomb in a world full of monsters.

If the gods took him—let them.

’He’s too dangerous anyway,’ Atlas thought. ’Give him another thousand years, and he might become something worse than a god. Maybe even... the next High Human.’

And yet—

Aurora turned to him. Her eyes. That look. That silent plea.

He knew those eyes. Had seen them when they were kids. When she stitched up his wounds in silence. When she held Lara’s hand after a fever. She’d never begged—not with words. Just with those eyes.

Atlas sighed. "....No," he muttered.

"I literally raised you and Lara, you dick," Aurora said bitterly.

’This old hag...’ Atlas grumbled inside.

"He can manage, I think. He... he looks confident. He can toootallyyy manage," Atlas said, half-hoping the storm would believe it.

THUNDER!

And then the sky answered him with mockery.

Merlin collapsed.

Right at Atlas’s feet.

His body was scorched, smoke curling from his robes. His skin looked like charcoal. But he was breathing. Barely. Each breath a wheeze.

The air around him shimmered with residual electricity. Sparks danced across the wet ground like spirits returning to the sky.

.....As punishment... for this ....heresy 946. the rain will never stop.... Flood shall arch across all farmlands....and My thunder shall lay wrath on every land beyond Merlin’s carcass...

"Who the fuck...?" Atlas whispered, then caught himself.

He turned to Loki. "You lot are family, right? Can’t we fix the issue here?"

"...Me?" Loki asked, surprised.

"...Yes, you dumb shit!" Veil’s voice rang out as he slid out from Atlas’s shadow, flickering like a smear of oil and smoke.

Loki rubbed the back of his neck. "I’m what you’d call a bastard. That guy? That’s the real son of Thor—the God of Thunder himself. Ouserus. Pureblood. Not half-blood. So fuck me if I say... I can’t deal with this shit."

Aurora knelt beside Merlin. Her hands glowing, her brow furrowed in concentration. She muttered a dozen words beneath her breath, strings of incantation interlaced with pleas. The glow pulsed weakly across Merlin’s chest.

But it wasn’t enough.

...He’s still not dead?... Ouserus’s voice rang out again. Less thunderous now—more curious.

Merlin opened his eyes. Red. Flickering. Buzzing with divine voltage.

"...haaaaa...Fucking retard..." he rasped. "Can’t even kill me right... If you’ve got the gall, show yourself. Kill me with your bare hands... How long you gonna hide behind your father’s thunder...?"

Slap!

Aurora’s hand lashed across his cheek, her magic faltering for a split second.

Her voice shook with more than anger. "Why the fuck did I even heal you, old man?"

THUNNNNNDDDERRRR!!!

The sky lit up in a geometry of lightning.

Not wild, but structured. A perfect pentagram of fury across the heavens.

Even the gods were angry.

A crack opened in the clouds.

.....Interesting point...