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Those were the last things Atticus wanted to happen. In fact, it wasn't even on the list; he didn't want it to ever happen.

'It must be my body's way of warning me about the consequences of overusing my will,' Atticus surmised. He would be a fool not to understand what was happening. And it went without saying that Atticus wanted none of those scenes to happen, not in a million years.

'Message gotten loud and clear.'

Atticus focused on calming his state of mind, repeating those words constantly, and after a few moments that seemed like a decade to him, Atticus's real eyes flickered open, his form stirring slightly.

His gaze was instantly met with a multitude of Stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

'Where am I?'

Atticus's body stirred, using his hand as support to sit up straight.

"Fuck."

Atticus placed his palm on the side of his head, his face wincing in pain. The intensity of the pain that just racked his head had been staggering.

Atticus could feel an intense headache hammering his head. After taking a moment to get used to the pain, Atticus opened his eyes and turned to look at his surroundings.

He could feel that he was currently lying down on something soft; turning, he saw it was a bundle of different clothes.

He turned and saw a pitch-black space behind him and an open space on the other side surrounded by trees.

Atticus was still trying to regain his bearings. The headache racking his head seemed to stop every attempt at formulating a thought.

'A cave?'

It was as though that realization was what he needed as a flood of memories suddenly streamed into his mind.

window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})'I see.'

Atticus raised his palms, seeing as they were already completely healed, leaving no scar. Apart from that, there were no other injuries on him, only the headache racking his head.

Atticus rested his back on the wall of the cave, taking in deep breaths, trying to steady his mind.

"You're awake!"

His gaze snapped open to see Aurora's excited form approaching him quickly. Atticus's eyes instantly landed on her red, puffy eyes as she neared him.

"You're finally awake!"

Just as Aurora was about to rush in and hug Atticus, she abruptly stopped, her cautious and worried gaze scanning Atticus's body.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly.

Atticus smiled warmly before chuckling slightly, an action that made his head pound hard, making him wince.

"A-are you okay!?" Aurora rushed to his side while gazing at Atticus intently, scrutinizing him and trying to see if there was anything wrong with him.

Atticus couldn't help himself; seeing the hot-blooded Aurora act like this was fun. He chuckled again and suddenly remarked with a smile, "You've always been a crybaby."

Hearing Atticus's remark, Aurora's beating heart seemed to calm down a bit as she stared at Atticus with a serious gaze.

'Hm?' Atticus stared back, a little confused.

Usually, Aurora would have blushed or pretended not to care hearing his remark. He was a little shocked she was looking at him this way.

"What's wrong?" Atticus asked.

window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})Aurora stared at him for a few seconds without saying anything and then said, "Nothing," before suddenly standing up and walking away to the side.

"You must be hungry," she added.

It was then that Atticus noticed that Aurora had been holding a small dead beast, hanging on her back.

She walked to the middle where a small campfire made of wood and stone was. Aurora brought out a dagger and started skillfully skinning the beast.

"I took a survival course and attend during the weekends," Feeling Atticus's stare, Aurora explained.

Atticus made an 'oh' sound before responding,

"You didn't mention anything."

"No, I didn't," Aurora replied succinctly, not stopping her actions or even turning to look at him.

Atticus stared at her for a few seconds. He didn't have to be a genius to figure out that something was wrong.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? Say what's on your mind," he encouraged her.

Aurora paused, not saying anything for a few seconds, the area descending into silence. Atticus also kept quiet, giving her time to speak.

"Am I… am I a burden to you?" Aurora suddenly asked.

Hearing her, Atticus smiled. He finally understood what was happening.

"No," he reassured her.

Aurora raised her head, turning to face Atticus. "Then why—"

window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})"Aurora," Atticus suddenly called out her name, interrupting her "No," he reassured her.

Aurora raised her head, turning to face Atticus. "Then why—"

words.

He continued, "If I had been the one that was captured, what would you have done?"

"I would have tried my best to rescue you," she instantly replied.

"Good," Atticus nodded with a smile, "That's exactly what family means. We'll always be there for each other during our times of need, so don't feel bad about the fact that I had to rescue you, especially when you would do the same for me."

Aurora clenched her fist hard, tears welling up in her eyes as she turned her gaze downwards, muttering softly under her breath.

"But why are you always the one saving me?"

It had been a mutter, but Atticus had heard it clearly. Just as he was about to speak, Aurora suddenly wiped away her tears with her sleeves before turning back, "Don't mind me, it's probably because I'm hungry," she chuckled slightly, continuing her actions and draining the blood out of the beast.

"Oh yeah! You should check your artifact. The rules of the summit are explained there. You'll understand everything after that," Aurora added.

Atticus, who had still wanted to speak, paused as he heard that.

'Oh yeah, this was supposed to be a game,' he thought.

With everything that had happened, Atticus had completely forgotten that they were in a competition.

He had killed not just one, but multiple people. No one could say they were a simulation. No simulations could be that real.

The blood had been real, the feeling of necks being broken had been real, the feeling of his weapon piercing and slashing flesh had been completely real. It didn't matter if they were another race of people; at the end of the day, they were living beings.

Was this truly the leader's summit? If yes, then it was far too brutal.

Atticus took in a deep breath, steadying his heart. Then he clicked on his device, and the rules of the summit appeared in front of his face.