And then he found himself in his old body.
He could feel the pain.
He could recognise his appearance, which had lost its meaning, and had become an embarrassment for a sorcerer.
He could feel the wounds aching all over his body and the hot blood flowing from his chest, legs and eyes.
In contrast to the sadness and frantic anger he had felt in his earlier memories, he was hurting badly now. He could feel that his soul was full of cracks.
Ready to crumble at any moment, close to annihilation.
"Don't you understand? You are the only person who has made perhaps the stupidest choices a human being can make. Every single mistake you've made has led to the deaths of thousands. Tens of thousands in misery."
The dark figure came to the tip of Atlas' head looked him straight in the eye and uttered these words.
"Still, I saved a lot, didn't I?" questioned Atlas, focusing on the dark figure as if ignoring the raindrops still falling towards him.
