Zoey tried wiping them away, but more tears kept coming.
She couldn't face him.
She couldn't bear to see his expression.
Her overwhelming shame crushed her.
She hated this feeling.
She hated it so much.
…
A distance away, Ozeroth and Lumindra had momentarily stopped fighting.
Their attention was now on Zoey.
Lumindra crossed her arms, her face somber.
She didn't like seeing Zoey like this.
"Zoey," she muttered, her voice pained.
Behind her, Ozeroth snorted.
"Hmph. He better not accept that half-baked apology."
His arms crossed as he watched, his expression unimpressed.
"She still needs to grovel and lick his feet. And mine, too!"
His tone turned dramatic.
"It was a very tough task stopping that idiot from making a complete fool of himself."
"I molded him. I shaped him into the cool man he is now!"
"Without me, he would've still been a pathetic mess."
A vein throbbed in Lumindra's forehead.
She clenched her fists, barely holding herself back from punching this prideful bastard.
But Ozeroth soon fell silent.
Because now, even he was curious.
What would Atticus do?
The entire focus was on this freakishly tall 18-year-old boy. However, to the boy, the world had turned into a blurry mass of darkness.
He saw nothing. He didn't move a single inch, yet his mind spun, faster than it ever had before.
Thoughts collided, clashing, racing through his head at a speed that even he struggled to process.
'What should I say?'
'How should I handle this?'
'What's the best way to approach it?'
The words of everyone close to him echoed in his mind, like whispers passing through a storm.
"Don't be a fool."
"Forget about it. Move on."
"Then nothing. You move on."
They had all told him the same thing when Zoey rejected him.
And truthfully, he was starting to move on.
Years had passed.
He had grown. Changed.
He had gone through so many life-and-death experiences that this situation should be a joke compared to them.
However, it didn't feel like a joke.
Because as he stood there, watching her break down in front of him—
As he listened to every broken word, every painful sob—
As he felt her emotions as though they were his own—
A strange ache settled in his chest.
Her distress was genuine.
Raw.
And for that reason, Atticus decided.
He would meet genuine with genuine.
He would speak his mind.
Zoey's sobs echoed through the quiet night.
The blurry darkness around Atticus receded, his mismatched eyes locking onto her.
Then—
"Jealousy, huh…"
His deep, calm voice echoed through the night, interrupting her sobs.
"Honestly, I can't blame you for feeling that way."
"But I can't understand it, either."
Zoey's tear-filled eyes lifted toward him.
She couldn't see him clearly. Her vision was too blurry, but she was glad. She didn't want to see his face right now.
She was a mess.
Atticus continued.
"I've asked myself countless times… why am I so attracted to you?"
"I've thought of different reasons… but I finally settled on one."
"I admired you."
Zoey's breathing slowed, her sobs quieting slightly.
Atticus's voice remained calm, steady.
"When I first saw you, you were beautiful, without a doubt."
"But that wasn't what drew me to you."
"You were… different."
"Your eyes were clear. Focused. You weren't after anything. You weren't seeking recognition, admiration, or validation."
"You had a goal, and you were focused on it."
"I admired that. Because I'm the same way."
Zoey sniffled, her shoulders still shaking as fresh tears streamed down her face.
"That's why this… shocks me."
"Jealousy is a feeling I will never understand."
"You look at someone else and envy them? You wish to be in their place?"
Atticus shook his head.
"Why? It sounds like a waste of time."
"Time that should be spent chasing your own goal. But that's just what I believe. I can't speak for you."
"You're your own person. You have your own mind. Your own feelings."
"I'll respect that."
Zoey's fingers clenched tightly.
"But you see, Zoey…"
"I'll tell you my goal."
"The reason I work hard. The reason I push myself to grow stronger."
"It's to protect the people I hold dear. And this is where we're different."
Atticus's next words were blunt, cutting straight through her.
"If it makes you feel better, I don't give a crap about Eldoralth."
"I don't care about its billions of people."
"I care about my loved ones. That's all."
A silence followed.
Zoey's chest tightened. Her eyes widened. It was a shocking revelation. Atticus' importance to the human race could not be measured. He was their blade. Their protector.
And now he was saying he didn't give a crap about them?
But she wasn't given any chance to ponder this revelation.
"So let me ask you one question."
Zoey rubbed her tears away, her voice still shaky as she asked—
"What do you mean?"
Atticus's mismatched eyes remained unreadable.
"You're jealous of me. But my goal is too important to slow myself down for you."
"I will keep soaring higher. No matter what."
"So what will you do?"
Zoey froze.
An internal battle waged within her.
What would she do?
Could she keep living like this?
Could she keep watching him grow stronger while she stood still?
Her voice came out small. Weak.
"I-I don't know."
"I just… I just don't want to feel like this anymore."
Atticus's response was sharp. Direct. Uncompromising.
"Then do something about it."
Zoey snapped her head up.
Her eyes searched his face.
And then, her voice quivered with hesitation.
"D-Does that mean that we can still…?"
She didn't dare finish the sentence. But her hopeful gaze was clear.
Atticus didn't finish it for her, either.
He just stared.
His expression was placid. Unreadable.
Then, he turned away and began walking.
He walked past her without another word.
His voice was calm.
"If you do nothing… you'll be left behind forever."
Zoey's eyes widened.
Her throat tightened.
Tears poured down her face once more.
And as Atticus's figure disappeared into the forest—
Zoey cried.