A/N:
As Atticus saw the imposing figures of the individuals clad in sleek purple futuristic combat suits, the world seemed to slow as Atticus rapped up his perception to the highest level it could reach in his current weakened form.
No words were spoken; they had each already tried to kill Atticus, and that was all that mattered.
Atticus watched as each of them slowly pulled the trigger of their respective guns, the nozzles lighting up in a crimson glow, four distinct laser beams shooting towards Atticus's figure.
Atticus's mind spun, his gaze moving at fast speed as he mapped out the exact trajectory of each shot.
With lightning fast movements, Atticus's hands on the floor suddenly clenched, his legs tensing as he shot forward, his form suddenly adjusting in an awkward position in the air.
The next event was insanely baffling to the four men, as each of their precise shots, each targeting weak points, missed as though they didn't dare touch a single inch of Atticus's body.
The men weren't novices; seeing their shots had missed, they each unleashed rapid, precise shots at Atticus, each one threatening to turn him into swiss cheese.
But Atticus's movements were short and deliberate, too elite and well coordinated, dodging each of the shots before they had even left the gun.
Atticus's retaliation was swift, his right hand flickering to the side, four hard stones appearing between each finger.
Atticus's eyes narrowed, his gaze landing on his targets.
Without hesitation, he channeled mana into each stone, his hand flexing as their forms cut through the air at supersonic speeds, instantaneously appearing inches away from each of the assailants' crotches.
No matter how well covered or armored an individual, particularly a man, was, there was always one point on their body that 99% of men would try to defend when threatened: their crotch.
Despite the fact that mana infused stones, especially weak ones such as the ones about to hit them, weren't powerful enough to inflict any damage or harm on their targets, their minds didn't even think of this fact as they each removed their hands from their triggers, swiftly covering their crotches as though their lives depended on it.
It was completely and utterly instinctual, an action that Atticus had thoroughly been expecting from the very beginning.
It had been a very brief opening, an opportunity that Atticus took without any hesitation.
Atticus's leg tensed, mana coalescing in their forms. His whole form vibrated with power before he crouched and shot forward.
Atticus's movements were quick and swift; his body appeared almost weightless, his rapid footsteps leaving no indication that he had stepped on the earth.
His form instantly appeared, suspended in the air above the assailant on the far right, a mana infused round kick inches away from the assailant's neck.
The impact was decisive and unforgiving. Despite the full combat suit he was wearing, his neck was always going to be one of his many weaknesses in his body.
With a sharp snap, the force of the kick bent his neck at an unnatural angle, before getting propelled sideways, hurtling through the air like a rag doll and crashing through the nearby trees in a series of bone jarring impacts before simply crumpling to the ground, lifeless and motionless.
Atticus didn't let his momentum slip away for even a single second; with a sharp mid air spin, Atticus grabbed the gun of the enemy he had just killed, his form instantly mirroring the exact same stance he had seen them use earlier.
Before each of them could react, Atticus fired exactly three shots, three audible brutal thuds resounding across the area in the next second.
Each of the assailants had holes pierced through a small gap in their necks, a gap so small even the most skilled marksman would have to be incredibly lucky to land three shots consecutively as Atticus had just done.
However, despite this incredible achievement, Atticus showed absolutely no elation. Throughout this battle, his gaze had been completely cold.
Atticus landed gently and instantly pivoted, raising his gun and targeting the first assailant he had taken out with a kick to his neck earlier.
He remained unmoving, lifeless even, but Atticus wasn't taking any chances, especially not now.
The sounds of two shots being fired permeated the space, each of them piercing the neck of the unmoving assailant.
Atticus did the same thing for the other men he had shot initially, shooting each of them to make sure they were indeed dead.
After which he rested his back on a tree, taking in a deep breath as he tried to process all that had just happened.
'Is this still the leader's summit or did something happen?'
Everything that had happened so far had been so baffling that Atticus was forced to believe that there was something wrong somewhere.
If not for the fact that it was him, Atticus doubted that anyone amongst the other students would have survived this situation. He wasn't trying to brag; it was a simple fact.
Apart from this, there was one other feeling that kept nagging at his mind, but Atticus had been shoving it deep inside of him. Now wasn't the time for any distractions.
'Aurora.'
Atticus released a deep exhale. But before he could go to Aurora, he wanted to check the identity of the attackers and hopefully utilize their suits.
"You're strong."
Just as he was about to move, Atticus's form abruptly froze as he suddenly heard a voice coming from the top of the tree he had been resting on.
It sounded robotic, as though it had been a machine that had just spoken.
Without even turning to look, Atticus dashed forward at fast speed, putting enough distance between himself and the tree.
After he was at a safe distance, Atticus swiftly turned backwards to look at who or what had just spoken, leaning in on the latter.
In the next second, Atticus's gaze shook as he saw the figure.