Online In Another World

As he opened the book, he found that it was more of a journal, rather than an actual book; the ink that was used to inscribe words onto the pages was messy and hard to read, though he managed.

[Journal of Retrain Idamus, Record Keeper |"...Dreadful. After the attack of that monstrosity, the city has been all but wiped out. Our army was mostly depleted, and many civilians are still injured. Every night. Every night I listen to the cries of children who lost their parents in the attack. I listen to their whimpers from their wounds suffered from that evil force–I've heard some call it the "Slumbering One", some even seemed to worship it as the "Old One"...they, too, were killed by it."]

Finally, it seemed he had found something of substance that began to inform him of what happened to Atlan, but even then, many pages of the journal seemed to be bleached.

'It sounds awful. This creature it mentions–"Slumbering One", "Old One"--didn't Bastian mention something about Primordials being responsible for what Atlan is now? So, this "Old One" is a Primordial, then,' he thought.

Sitting with his back to the bookshelf, he flipped through the pages before finding one that wasn't washed away, though something was off: it was messily written, completely so.

["This is the will of the King. It's his decision, but…is this for the best? The warriors. The oracle. The royals. Even the children. The "Cerulean Bond"--a sacred magecraft known by the King. All of us will become one. We will immortalize ourselves into one entity, becoming the embodiment of Atlan itself–that's what this is for. I can't help but feel part of this is just to strike back at the one that ravaged our land. But, if this is the only one, then I will…I will do it. This way, we will continue on forever, living through him, living to one day bring Atlan back to what it once was–no, greater."]

Reading the words that were hastily written on the page, with water stains that seemed to fall from droplets of tears, the black-and-blonde haired man found himself devoid of breath for a moment at the revelation.

'All of the people of Atlan…merged into one? That's the Atlan King that I met? That's…I don't know what to think of that,' he thought.

Just as he finished the book, the sound of footsteps coming down the staircase leading to the library were heard.

Slop. Slop. Slop.

By the wet, slapping wound that echoed with each descent down the stairs, it was clear that they didn't belong to Bastian.

'Crap–Bastian said it'd be bad if I was caught down here. Where is he?' He questioned.

As the wet steps continued drawing closer-and-closer, he found himself wanting to keep the book on him but decided to return it to its place on the shelf before silently crouching, moving behind the shelves to hide.

Using wind, he muffled his own footsteps and breaths, almost subconsciously performing this spell through his own mastery of the element.

Slop. Slop. Slop.

The footsteps were close, seconds away from the door as he continued moving through the library to find a good spot to stay hidden. Fortunately, the abandoned room was messy and filled with scattered objects, devoid of light except for the glowing coral beyond the window, making it an easy place to stay low.

Just as the door swung open, he laid down under a low table, which was shrouded in a dark corner of the library with a tattered curtain further hiding the spot.

"—"

As he watched through a small gap between the curtain and the bottom of the table, he found himself staring at a being that confused his eyes in the dimly-lit room: it walked in with eight, slimy legs of a dark-red complexion, possessing a large, bulbous head.

'An…octopus?' He realized.

The eight-legged creature wore a grayish-silver cloak around its odd body, walking through the library with suction noises "popping" with every movement it made. It was massive; the tentacles of the Atlan inhabitant pushed aside the crumbled furniture out of its way as it moved across the room.

Curiously, he watched from his tucked-away spot as the peculiar creature moved through the salt-infested library before stopping in front of the glass. As it stood there, its legs never stopped moving, continuously wriggling and moving about as if constantly sensing the area around it; its large head, being most of its body, seemed to pulsate.

'What's it doing?' He questioned.

He watched as the eight-limbed creature pressed one of its slimy limbs against the glass, caressing it slowly as if longing for something beyond. It was a surreal sight, though confusing as he laid there under the table.

"--!"

A book from above the table he hid under suddenly flipped over, plummeting down before–it stopped in mid-air, suspended by an unseen force.

'Safe!' He thought.

Fortunately, he managed to act quickly, using a silent wind to envelop the falling book and catch it before quietly allowing it to land on the ground. As he set it down, he watched as the standing octopus turned away from the window, beginning to take its leave from the library with its slimy tentacles trailing over the furniture.

Even after it went out through the door, with its wet, "slopping" steps getting further and further, he waited a minute before finally crawling out from under the table. A small breath of relief was exhaled from his lips as he picked himself up.

Experiencing the oddities of the deep sea land, he found himself questioning if it was really worth sticking around in such a perplexing environment.

'Is this really supposed to be our "base of operations" against the Children of Chaos? I need to know…what do the Atlans have to offer in this mission? Bastian talks about the isolated nature of Atlan like it's an amazing thing, but is that it?' He questioned.

As he left the salt-encrusted library, he went back up the marble stairs, though quickly finding that they were left slick with the slimy substance of the Atlan Octopus.

"Uugh…" Emilio quietly let out in disgust.

Continuing on his way, he reached the top, returning to the hallway as he sought out the man who initially led him to the library.

"Hey."

As he walked down one of the cerulean halls, the familiar voice caught him first as he looked over, finding the bearded man leaning against one of the walls.

"Nice warning," Emilio said.

"Seems like you didn't need it," Bastian responded.

He didn't reply to that remark, instead looking towards the walls of the underwater keep, "Why're we here, Bastian? I don't mean for the oracle's glimpse or to hide–what does Atlan have to offer in this fight?"

| сom The question brought a look from Bastian that was followed by silence for a few moments before the man began walking, gesturing for him to follow.

"You found the books you needed to find, I'm guessing?" Bastian asked.

"I did. This kingdom is…if you can even call it that anymore–it's not a fighting force. Other than that, something is off about it. The way you warned me about that room, the few occupants of Atlan, and that "oracle"..." Emilio listed his reasons.

Before he could get an answer, the two arrived in a secluded area of the Atlan temple: a courtyard with dark-blue grass and a coral tree that sprouted seaweed along its crooked limbs. The ceiling was tall and see-through, having a glimpse of the sea beyond that was flourishing with life.

Bastian stopped in front of the large, coral tree, "You've encountered the Primordials and their aspects already. You know that they're completely different from anything else in Arcadius–more sinister than beasts and deadlier than monsters."

"Yeah, I have," he confirmed.

"It seems Primordials and their lesser forms are drawn to us, like magnets–allured by our otherworldly existence. That's what I've discovered, anyway," Bastian said, "Atlan has developed the only barrier in the entire world that is capable of both keeping everything within it hidden from Primordials, but also preventing them from entering."

What was revealed to him seemed far-fetched, considering the unequivocal power that Primordials wielded, though it didn't seem like there would be any reason for the Seraphheart to lie.

"A barrier like that exists? What kind of magecraft could combat Primordials?" Emilio asked.

"Sorry, but it's not something exactly 'teachable'--if you read about who or what the Atlan King really is, you should know that he's a unique existence," Bastian said, "A weapon to stand against the Primordials."

"It is a safe haven, then," Emilio muttered, recognizing the benefits of the place, though still not sure if it was somewhere he really felt like being for very long.

Bastian walked over the cerulean tiles of the courtyard, which were placed over a section of water which caught a glimpse of swimming fish below.

"What'd you see back there? When you met the Atlan Oracle," Bastian asked.

Rubbing his head, he walked over, standing near the coral tree as he looked up at it, "To be honest, it's hard to say, really. Though one part of it stuck out to me most…I was at the summit of some sort of storming mountain and met this cocky bastard who wielded lightning. I remember–it was purple lightning. Really distinct."

The truthful relay of what he experienced given to Bastian was taken in as the bearded man went quiet for a few moments, rubbing his own beard.

"Hmm…" Bastian grumbled in thought.

"What?"

"Purple lightning, you said? I've heard of somebody like that, actually," Bastian told him, 'I'm surprised you didn't recognize them."

"Huh? Who is it?" Emilio asked.

Bastian looked at him, "Sirius. That's the only name he's known by, besides "The Strongest Adventurer"–he's a legend among adventurers, but not much is known about him–a real arrogant fellow who thinks he's higher than everybody else."

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