CHAPTER 282: CHAPTER 281: DISCOVERY

Atlas started biting his nails, the faint crunch echoing through the broken hall. Dust clung to his fingertips, iron tang still staining his teeth from earlier battles. His gaze locked on the blue glow hovering before him:

[Upgrading: 81%]

The numbers pulsed, slow, mocking, like a heartbeat that refused to quicken.

He sat on the shattered throne, the once-grand seat of demon king Orcus reduced to jagged stone and ash. Shadows crawled up the walls where torches had long died out. The broken throne of the broken castle—it suited him almost too well. His back pressed into its cracked spine as his eyes narrowed on the cursed system screen.

The bloody system only spat out notifications. No commands worked, no options lit. No skill windows opened. It was as if someone had nailed his arms behind his back and whispered: Wait.

Oh, how he hated waiting.

How he wanted—no, needed—to use the skills trapped inside that digital coffin. The POV skill, for instance. His one key to pierce distance and walls, to peek into the paths of those he loved, those who were scattered across realms. If it weren’t for the damn upgrade, he could check on Lara right now, see her steps as she walked down her route to Hell. Maybe—just maybe—stop her before she crossed the line he feared most.

His mind stung as her name rose. Lara—his little tragedy wrapped in obsession. Too young, too scarred. He clenched his fists.

And Eli... his heart stuttered. Pregnant. Pregnant with his child. The thought wasn’t clean joy; it was fire, unsteady and consuming. He wanted to check her body, see if she was safe, if the child inside her burned with his Genesis blood or warped into something monstrous.

And Claire—unstable Claire. The gift—or curse—his so-called mother had left her with. She bore it like cracked porcelain barely holding together, light leaking through the seams. What if she shattered?

And Isabella. The stepmother whose body carried a seed he had planted without knowing its true nature. His lips pressed thin. He didn’t want to imagine what that seed would grow into.

The glowing screen ticked higher:

[Status: Life Seed Processing: 100%]

[Isabella life seed completion.]

Atlas leaned forward, pulse hammering.

"...then? Show me something. Anything." His voice bled frustration, echoing through the ruin.

Nothing.

No skills, no messages, no paths. Just static silence.

" it’s not showing anything else... fuck you, system. Give me something—anything. That’s why I hated system tropes in all those shitty novels and games..." His voice cracked into the cold.

Lidia stirred below the stairs. She had been sprawled like a discarded ribbon, half-conscious, half-basking in his presence. She blinked at his sudden snarl, confusion blooming across her delicate face.

"What happened, dear?" she asked softly.

Her voice was warm, careful, a melody trying to soothe the storm.

Atlas exhaled sharp through his nose, leaning back into the ruined throne until the stone dug into his spine. "Nothing... just human stuff."

Lidia pushed herself up, her gown dragging along the dusty steps. Slowly, deliberately, she climbed and perched herself onto his lap. She curled like she belonged there, her cheek pressed against his chest. The heat of her body seeped through his shirt, grounding him, whether he liked it or not.

"I don’t know you fully, Atlas," she whispered, her breath brushing against his collarbone, "but even I’m not dumb enough to think it’s nothing."

Her weight settled. Her heartbeat was steady. Atlas didn’t push her away. He didn’t have the energy, nor the will. Let her be. Let her indulge. He could pretend her comfort patched something in him. Or maybe it did.

"It’s just..." He hesitated, his throat locking. "...I have people who love me. And I love them back. But sometimes, I don’t know... haaa....how should I even say it..."

Lidia’s hand slid across his chest, slow, soothing, like a mother calming a fever. "Come on. I know you’re talking about your other women. Say it." Her tone was soft, but the edge of irritation laced through. Acceptance and jealousy braided together.

"I will just say it .....one of them is pregnant," Atlas muttered. The words landed heavy, as if dragged out with chains.

Lidia stiffened. Her eyes flew open, surprise flashing sharp before settling into something unreadable. She hadn’t expected that weight.

But before she could voice her reaction, a sharper voice cut in.

"Whatttttt!!!??"

Aurora.

The air cracked from her sudden shout. She descended like lightning, fury lacing her tone. "Someone is pregnant!? ...It better not be Lara, you piece of shit. She is too young. Too young!"

Her panic sliced the hall sharper than any blade.

Atlas jerked, hand smacking against Lidia’s head as he startled. He hadn’t even sensed Aurora’s approach—his mind had been too wrapped in knots of worry. The fact that she had crept so close without him noticing told him just how far his stress had eaten away his instincts.

"...Atlas. Answer me!" she barked, her voice cracking from both rage and fear.

"Don’t worry. Damn it, I’m not that much of a horny dog. It’s not her..." He snapped back, his voice tight.

Aurora froze, breath catching, relief leaking from her shoulders. "...then who? Claire? ...If it’s her, it’s acceptable. She’s mature enough."

"...no. Not her either."

Aurora’s heart thudded once. That left only two names. Her throat dried.

Isabella. His stepmother. Gods help them all if the queen bore the prince’s child. Berminhum would not just collapse under scandal—it would rot from within, known forever as the kingdom of incest.

Or Elizabeth. The Empress. Dangerous in her own way, unreadable as the night sky. Aurora’s stomach knotted at the thought. Elizabeth loved him, yes, but she was a riddle, a storm in calm skin. If things turned political, though... if they played it right, Elizabeth’s pregnancy could be an empire’s bridge, Atlas rising as emperor consort.

But Lara. Lara would never allow it. Aurora had seen the blue flames in her eyes, the obsession rooted since childhood, twisted from tragedy into chains. If Elizabeth carried his child, Lara’s fury would burn the world.

She turned her glare back to Atlas.

"Come on. Say it." No patience remained in her voice.

Atlas’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t wanted this. Not here. Not now. Confession had slipped from him like a crack in armor, meant only for Lidia’s ears.

"...it’s Eli." His voice dropped. Almost ashamed. Almost relieved.

Aurora exhaled, a long, heavy sigh. She let her body drop from above, collapsing onto Lidia’s lap, piling onto Atlas’s thighs with careless weight.

"...thank God it’s not your stepmother."

"Step... mother?" Lidia whispered, blinking at the revelation.

"Aurora—"

"Sorry, slipped out. Heehee." She giggled, shameless.

Atlas groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "...haa..."

"Come on. I know you felt relief when you said it." Aurora smirked up at him.

He didn’t answer, but she was right. The confession had been a strange balm. Yet deep in his chest, heavier secrets still smoldered. Isabella. His stepmother. Pregnant—or something close to it. His Genesis seed twisting within her, reshaping her womb into something unknown. He couldn’t share that. Wouldn’t.

Some truths were too heavy. Some burdens should stay locked inside, like the cursed system.

Aurora shifted, sliding off Lidia’s lap. Her lazy eyes sharpened suddenly, her grin slipping away. She stood straight.

"...interesting."

The word froze the air.

Atlas lifted his head. "Interesting? From your lips, that doesn’t sound good."

Aurora’s gaze gleamed. "I think I found something interesting. Orcus. That dirty, dirty man."

Atlas straightened in his seat. His eyes narrowed. "...what?"

Her magic threads—woven across the ruined castle, feeding her glimpses of every shadow and stone—had stumbled onto something.

"...what did you find? Treasure?" His voice edged with impatience.

"No. Something more precious."

"Then just tell me, for gods’ sake."

"A key."

Atlas’s pulse spiked. "The Key of Three Hells? The one we’ve been looking for?"

Aurora smirked. "You wish. No. The key to one of the Heavens."

Atlas’s breath caught. "...the key to heaven? Is that even possible?"

"It’s a one-time item," she explained, almost giddy. "It can only be used by demi-gods. Usually gifted by their divine parents once they’ve proven themselves worthy."

"...then what good is it for us?"

Aurora’s smirk widened, shadowed by memory. "Master used one once. To reach Heaven itself. I need to ask him later—"

Her words cut off as her eyes flared. She burst upward in excitement, voice ringing through the broken castle.

"Ohhhhhh... Orcus. This..." She laughed breathlessly. "This changes everything!"

She flew off, her silhouette vanishing into the dark rafters.

Atlas saw her, her discovery lamenting his curiosity.

So he also stood up from the throne, jaw set, eyes chasing her shadow. Lidia slipped from his lap, tumbling down the stairs with a surprised yelp. He didn’t move to catch her. His mind was elsewhere.

"For fucks sake...wait." he beloud, floating after her. While Lidia again laid on the stairs, her palm on her stomach, weeping and wishing she would get pregnant as well.