Dinner involved the whole family, along with the three stars.
They were all seated at a long, gleaming table with Avalon at the head. The clatter of utensils filled the room as everyone ate, and though no one spoke, many struggled to stifle their laughter as they watched Atticus and Sirius locked in an intense stare.
Unlike previous dinners, the atmosphere was more relaxed, mostly because Magnus wasn't present during this one. The other tier one paragons were in Sector 3, and he was expected to host them.
Atticus wore a small smile while Sirius maintained a serious expression. They both continued eating, but they never broke eye contact with one another.
"Are you ready for the day after tomorrow, At?" Anastasia finally broke the silence after everyone had finished eating.
"The day after tomorrow?" Atticus looked away from Sirius, turning his attention to Anastasia before asking. His confusion was evident.
Sirius scoffed. "Of course, the training maniac would forget."
Atticus glanced around the table, noticing that everyone was looking at him with a smile. 'Even Dad knows what's going on?'
He was surprised to see Avalon giving him a small smile as well. 'Did I miss something?' Atticus' mind raced as he tried to figure out what he could have possibly overlooked.
He was certain he hadn't forgotten anything important, he'd spent hours planning his next steps today, they was no way he had overlooked anything.
'Are they messing with me?' he wondered, finding it odd that everyone at the table, even the maids standing nearby, seemed to be in on something except him.
But he got his answer in the next instant.
"Your birthday."
Atticus' eyes widened, then he chuckled. Out of everything that had crossed his mind, his birthday hadn't even been a consideration. He had never seen any need to be excited for his birthday.
"Right, it's the day after tomorrow. I'll be 17…" he murmured, and several people at the table shook their heads with amused smiles at his lack of enthusiasm.
"You don't seem happy. What's wrong?" Anastasia asked with a touch of concern.
Atticus forced a smile. "It's nothing, Mom. It just slipped my mind. I'm just surprised it's been 17 years already…"
A flicker of surprise passed over everyone's faces. Already?
But Atticus quickly shook his head, changing the topic. "So what about it? It's going to be the same as usual, right, Mom?"
Anastasia scrutinized him. She and the others had sensed his shift in mood when his birthday was mentioned; it was clear that there was something there that he wasn't saying. But she didn't press him. It was obviously something he wasn't ready to discuss.
She shook her head in response but said nothing. Atticus didn't like that.
"Don't worry, my boy! You're going to love it! I've got everything perfectly planned…"
Atticus turned toward Nathan, who began excitedly listing everything he'd arranged for his birthday. With each word, Atticus' sense of dread only deepened. This wasn't what he wanted.
"A celebration?" he asked.
"A ball, to be precise," Avalon responded.
"Why? You don't like balls?"
Sirius had regained his smile and was thoroughly enjoying the look of distress on Atticus' face.
Atticus frowned. "Can I skip it?"
"You're acting like you're marching into battle. Are you really that scared of balls?" Sirius remarked, clearly entertained by Atticus' discomfort.
But Atticus wasn't smiling. After the experience he'd endured at the Dimensari domain, the last thing he wanted was another ball.
To him, it felt like a waste of time and resources. Yet, seeing the look on Anastasia's face, he knew he didn't have a choice.
Dinner wrapped up with the agreement that there would indeed be a celebration on the day after tomorrow, marking his birthday. Atticus walked alone to his room, deep in thought.
Even as he passed guards and maids who flinched in surprise before bowing in deep respect, Atticus' focus remained elsewhere.
'Seventeen years.'
Those words echoed in his mind as he walked. To most, they might sound normal, but to him, they carried weight.
Seventeen years since he had been killed and reincarnated into this world.
'Mom.'
The mother he'd left behind on Earth was all he could think about. It had been seventeen years since he left her all alone.
She'd been as reclusive as he was, and they'd only ever had each other. Atticus found it painful to imagine how her life might have turned out without him.
In this world, he'd found new people who loved him, a family he cherished. But what about her?
Seventeen whole years. Was she alive? Was she okay? Or had her life been filled with loneliness and misery without him? Atticus was desperate to know the answer to even one of those questions, but at the same time, he was terrified of what he might find.
What if it was bad? What if she had lived in utter despair, while he was here in a new life, with a new family? Could he bear that?
His fists clenched as an icy aura radiated from him. Each thought was maddening, tearing at him. Why had this happened? He loved his family here, yet the thought of his mother suffering made his heart ache.
He despised it.
Reaching his door, he met Yotad and Dario, giving them only a curt nod before entering his room. The reminder of seventeen years weighed heavily on him, souring his mood for the entire night. Restless thoughts filled his mind, and, as he suspected, he couldn't sleep.
Rising from his bed, he dressed in a training suit and left his room, heading for an advanced training field.
Fortunately, he didn't encounter Anastasia on the way. After a few minutes, Atticus found himself standing in the middle of a grassland, his eyes closed.
The air around him was calm, as was the mana as he tuned out every other thought.
He was about to practice the new paragon art he'd earned from winning the Leader's Summit.