Another minute passed.
The Dimensari delegate opened his mouth to speak again, but the door swung open before he could utter a word.
All heads turned toward the entrance.
A single figure stepped in.
The room froze.
It was him. Atticus Ravenstein. The apex of humanity.
The delegates' gazes sharpened instantly, like vultures circling prey. Their observational abilities were pushed to the limit as they scrutinized every detail of the young man who had caused such a stir.
Atticus's steps were measured, deliberate, each one echoing across the now silent hall. But it wasn't his movements that commanded their attention.
It was his aura.
Dominant. Overwhelming. Absolute.
He hid nothing. There was no restraint, no attempt to soften his presence. His aura blanketed the hall, pressing down on every individual like the weight of the world.
The delegates' expressions shifted.
Disbelief.
Shock.
Mouths parted slightly, their confidence shaken.
For over a month, they had debated the truth of the rumors. Could Atticus Ravenstein, a human, a member of a lower race, truly have faced a paragon? Could he have forced a paragon to retreat? None of them believed that.
They had come to confirm what they believed must be lies. It could only be a lie.
But now, as they faced him, those doubts began to crumble.
And now, they knew. They had been right.
Atticus wasn't a paragon.
But that wasn't the source of their shock.
The delegates were ancient beings, each over a century old, with lifetimes of experience and strength. Yet, as they sat there, under the weight of Atticus's aura, they felt small.
Insignificant.
Inadequate.
Even Avalon, Anastasia, and the Ravenstein elders were stunned. They had interacted with Atticus since his awakened some time ago. They knew he had grown stronger than before. But this? This was the first time they had felt the full force of his aura.
It was staggering.
In the control room, Lyanna, Sirius, and Nathan grinned widely. The cold, tense atmosphere had shifted, replaced by an intense pride. They loved that boy so much.
Atticus reached the circular table. Calmly, deliberately, he lowered himself into a seat.
Silence.
No words were spoken. None were needed. His presence alone had done more than any introduction ever could.
The room remained quiet, every delegate frozen under his gaze.
Although he was seated, Atticus didn't pull back his aura. Instead, it grew heavier, more overwhelming, pressing down on everyone in the room. The delegates felt it, they felt their pride and sense of superiority crushed under the weight of his presence.
He said nothing.
Atticus sat calmly, his eyes closed as though meditating, as if the powerful figures around him didn't exist. His only acknowledgment was a slight nod to his parents and the Ravenstein elders. He ignored the rest as though they didn't matter.
The superior races seethed. Their frowns deepened.
This was disrespect of the highest order. A human, a lowly human, daring to ignore them, daring to greet his family while disregarding their presence entirely.
But none of them spoke.
To be the first to break the silence would be an admission of weakness. A disgrace.
And so, the room waited.
Minutes passed. Atticus remained unmoved, his calm demeanor unshaken and palpable. The tension mounted, growing so thick it felt as if the table itself would crack under the strain.
But as the time passed, finally, someone spoke, breaking the tense silence.
"Apex Atticus," the dragon delegate began, his tone measured and formal. "We heard of the events in Sector 8 and your condition afterward. The dragon race extends its well wishes to the apex of humanity and hopes for your full recovery."
His words were polite, diplomatic.
Another delegate followed immediately. The Aeonian representative spoke, his voice smooth and practiced. "The Aeonians would also like to express their best wishes for your recovery. Furthermore, we extend an open hand to the human domain and would be happy to assist in any way should the need arise."
All eyes shifted to Atticus.
His eyes opened slowly, glowing faintly with power. He turned his head toward the dragon delegate, then the Aeonian. Both flinched slightly under his gaze, despite their best efforts to hold steady.
'Such power.'
That was the only thought in their minds.
Atticus felt like a living weapon, a being so far removed from their understanding that sharing the same space with him felt wrong.
Finally, he spoke.
"Thank you for your thoughts, consideration, and well wishes," Atticus said, his tone calm but firm. "As you can see, I've recovered fully."
He turned to the Aeonian delegate, his piercing gaze pinning them in place. "I appreciate your offer of assistance. If the human domain ever has need, I'll be sure to take you up on it."
The Aeonian delegate nodded, though their composure faltered slightly under his gaze.
The dragon delegate's lips curved into a polite smile as he spoke. "It's good to see that you're well, Apex Atticus. The dragon race values its relationship with humanity and hopes to strengthen it further. Speaking of which…"
His gaze sharpened, and his tone grew pointed. "We sent a token of goodwill to you after the Nexus event, a piece forged from the sturdiest grandmaster+ dragon scales. It was our hope that it would serve you well. However, I notice it isn't here. Did it not meet your expectations?"
Atticus's lips curved into a faint smile, his tone unreadable. "Not at all. It served me well."
The dragon delegate's expression relaxed slightly, but Atticus wasn't finished.
"But it was destroyed during the battle at Sector 8."
The room fell silent.
The shock that rippled through the hall was palpable.
"Destroyed?" one delegate muttered, their voice barely audible but filled with disbelief.
Dragon scales forged into a grandmaster+ artifact were renowned for their durability. They were considered almost indestructible by anyone below the paragon rank.
For it to be destroyed meant only one thing.
Only a paragon, or something equally powerful, could have achieved such a feat.
Were the rumors true?