In the middle of the home stood a tall silhouette clad in darkness and long hair; holding a black sword with the tip drenched in red. Atlas put a finger to his lips.
"It's so nice to finally meet you… Apollo Moloch."
No words reached the boy's ears. Atlas spoke regardless.
"I'm sure you have many questions, my child. Don't be afraid. It will all be over—"
Apollo stopped. Below the murderer's foot was his bloody mother's corpse. Collapsing to his knees, Atlas withdrew his leg, while he leaned over to pull the woman closer.
"M-mom?" He shook his head, stifling laughter. "This isn't funny! Come on… WAKE UP!"
Though he pleaded with Fate for another chance, he knew it was meaningless. He kept trying despite that. Atlas smirked. Only after the sound of male groaning leaked from the kitchen did his head raise and grip loosen.
"Dad..?" He stood. "He's… he's still alive!" He ran toward the dining room. Then something stopped him.
"Stop."
Atlas grabbed Apollo's head with his hand, letting the shadows of the home peel over their eyes. Without the sunlight's guide, their irises adjusted to the dark—granting Moloch access to peer his father's form. A dash of blood streamed down the fridge to the man's wounded shape, holding his chest, leaking gore from the cut. He looked up, eyes widening.
"A-Apollo? A-are you—" He coughed up blood, letting his head fall over.
Moloch's pupils shrunk. As the veins through his skin threatened to unleash, Atlas tightened his grip, sinking his fingertips into the boy's skull.
"It's futile. No amateur, no matter how hard they try, can ever escape my hold. But I digress. Last night, you awakened to Fate through exposure to your older brother's signature. I'd expected something like that would occur. But you see, being related to someone, and being awakened through their aura, doesn't mean you have to be bound to them eternally. Your older brother, Samael Andras II, has his own Predestined Power. The same is true for Aella, as for you. But yours is different."
He bent down to the boy's ear and smirked. "Every single individual fitted with their personality has a distinct aura shape. Sometimes it's like yours. Other times it's not. After being alive for 900 years, you learn a thing or two about how to read peoples' destinies. Yours… is to be with me. Eternally. The first step you must take is discarding your home."
Only after Atlas started monologuing did Apollo finally listen. Still, he was puzzled.
"W-what? W-what the hell are you—WHO THE HELL EVEN—?" He didn't glance back at Amit.
Atlas tightened his grip. Moloch spat out a groan, wincing at the pressure squeezing his skull. Just a little bit more and his brain would be crushed.
The Progenitor's grip released. "I've been watching you since birth." He looked down. "You and Aella aren't siblings, you just grew up together in an orphanage but somehow got sent to the same foster home. Don't you find that so oddly convenient?"
'How does any of this make sense? I've been stalked and controlled my whole life. But for the sake of what? The weird Fate technique etched into my aura? I don't even care about shit like that! I never asked to be born with this power… why do I have to suffer?'
"You don't have to."
Apollo gasped.
"Despairing for the sake of nothing is pointless. Did you think my antagonizing you at school was an accident? No. I don't wish to torment you, Apollo. I wish to enlighten you. After all, don't you know what 'discarding your home truly means?"
The boy shook his head. "No… I'd never do something so terrible. I CAN'T!"
"Why? Are you afraid?"
Apollo's breath hitched. The emerald in his eyes and coloring his tranquil Fate enhanced. The shock he previously felt was gradually subsiding, replaced by something anew. At the scent of that feeling, Atlas only smirked; removing the hand entrapping his head.
"They feed you every day but scream at you when they're angry. Why? It isn't even usually your guys' fault. Tell me. Is getting to eat a proper meal worth the abuse they relentlessly dish out? Or is it simply a matter of course?" Atlas stepped back. "Discard your home. Erase it… from the face of this world."
Apollo stepped forward. His father leaking blood from the gut looked up at his son, gasping at the sight of his green eyes. There was something he never thought he'd see across the dear child's face.
Excitement.
Samael ran up to his parent's front porch and grabbed the door knob. About to open the door, an unrivaled signature emerged from the center, mimicking an explosion that sent the older brother flying. Despite only landing a few feet away, the implosion was unexpected; he couldn't react in time to protect himself with Fate. The man rubbed his head, staring up at the house undamaged by the blast.
The aura was familiar. Exiting their slaughtered parents' home from the front door with Fate flowing through him, Apollo sighed lowly, glaring through his swaying curly strands at the older brother before him.
"Apollo, you…"
"Don't try it!" Atlas waved from atop the house, cheerfully grinning. "He can't hear you. That boy is currently in the process… of liberation."
"What?"
Samael looked at him. Only then did his eyes widen, grabbing the side of his head, both teeth clenched. "Atlas Amit! What the hell are you doing here?! No, better yet, how are you even alive?!"
The Progenitor shrugged. "Who knows?" He chuckled. "I can't say I'm not surprised though. How do you even know about me?"
"I'll answer that if you can beat me with Apollo," Sam said, clenching his fists and raising both arms.
Atlas smirked. "Deal."
…
City of the Gate, Present Day.
Luna crashed into the side of a building. The hole she formed in the structure's side formed a circle–one that resonated through the scraper to bury the Apex in the rubble. Atlas hovered over his foe, letting his long hair flow in tandem with his black coat.
"Is that all you got? If you're the Head of Apex Predator and wield a technique capable of giving others varying abilities, you should be much stronger than how you are now. But you're not." He sighed. "Why're you so weak?"
She pounced from the crater in the building, simultaneously closing the distance between them and slashing at his eyes. Atlas didn't move. Instead, he closed them. In the few seconds she had left in mid-air, she used them to widen her eyes—reflecting her attacker's all-black attire as his left leg raised to kick her in the face. Atlas glared down, watching his foe descend toward the city and crash into the street.
'When Fate signatures suddenly appear, the police are directly notified and accompany Fatebreakers when evacuating the civilians. If she's hoping to fight me in public to thwart my public status through innocent deaths, her plan is fruitless. But if not then… what is she planning–?'
Just when he was about to deduce her scheme, four Apex members appeared, jumping at Atlas in an attempt to ambush him. But his eyes were still closed. In one clean move, the Progenitor's sword sliced—cutting the attacking quartet clean in half so their bloody remnants would fall to the ground.
"A useless effort."
Muhammad stared up at Atlas in the sky. Crossing both arms and summoning his Predator, the Apex expressed all of his aurae, intentionally exposing his location.
Amit instantly appeared before Muhammad, grinning. "So you're here too. Wait—" He rubbed his nape and sighed. "—don't tell me you're just as weak as the purple-haired wench. Ugh. You Apex Predators are such a disappointment."
Stepping forward, frowning, Muhammad cracked his knuckle with his thumb. "Don't underestimate us."
"Ho?" Atlas raised his hand. "That pressure's certainly commendable. You'll probably kill me if you win so… let's make a deal. If I beat you, I'll rid you of the control that wench has over you and make you my pawn instead."
Muhammad's eyebrow quirked. "What? Control..?"
Atlas pierced the air with his fist, hoping to engage in close-quarters combat. But Muhammad had other plans; retreating into the sky from the rooftop platform.
'A long-range type?'
His eyes widened. While Muhammad's signature appeared right behind him, the man was still flying back into the air. Atlas fell into reflex and looked over his shoulder, spotting an incoming fist identical to that of Muhammad's doppelgänger.
'I see!' Atlas stepped back just in the nick of time. Everything slowed around him, so the Progenitor could stand idle and feel the entire scenario. 'It's simple. He can probably make up to five doppelgängers and switch bodies, controlling them all from whichever's the main body at the time. Usually, copy-types have to produce bodies that mimic their entire inner structure, which consumes a lot of energy. It wouldn't be possible to switch bodies if they weren't identical bodies so my assumption holds up.'
Atlas smashed his fist into the doppelgänger's face. Then, another one spontaneously spawned from its back, missing a lower half and sinking into the copy's skin.
'That's kinda disgusting.' Atlas was knocked out of his super-speed by the third copy's punch, skidding to the rooftop edge and glancing at the ground below. 'By sacrificing complex structures like the inner body or lower half, you increase the speed of their creation. Smart.'
The Progenitor unsheathed his sword and slashed at Muhammad in the air, simultaneously jumping at him. Muhammad spawned another copy from his front that caught the sword's slash. The sword vibrated, shaking the two attacks before spikes blasted from the steel, cutting the copy and Muhammad through it. Or so it seemed.
As expected, Muhammad had vanished. Atlas looked up, spotting the attacker dive through the sky and stab at his skull with two feet. Amit blocked his head with the sword, feeling the pressure sink through his arms and crack his bones, launching him into the ground below.
Atlas quickly recovered on the street and jumped back, dodging Muhammad's following stomp with one foot. Amit advanced his speed, preparing to speed right down the street before Muhammad's technique activated.
'Predestined Power: Spawn of My Soul.'
Five doppelgängers instantly spawned from Muhammad's front, forming a line of copies, each with its aura. Their legs blurred with the environment around them following suit, enhancing all of their speed to rush Atlas at the street's end.
'Impressive!'
Amit ran, slashing at the first one's skull. The frontal vanguard split in half, allowing the second copy to throw a fist at his face, aura enveloping its whole arm. Atlas grabbed its wrist and tore it off by jumping back, throwing slashes from his sword at Muhammad below.
Muhammad conjoined back into his base body, throwing ahead both arms to deflect the flying projectiles. Atlas landed on the ground, throwing up the sword, and punching twice at Muhammad's face. Another copy emerged with an extended arm that caught the Progenitor's punch and leaned forward, slamming its skull against its foes'.
Reeling back, Amit's arms raised, reflexively defending against the blow. He steadily advanced with both fists raised, striking at Muhammad's face who swatted away his knuckles and spun around, kicking at Atlas's skull.
Ducking under the leg, the Progenitor uppercut his chin, watching Muhammad lean back into a backflip that spawned numerous copies in mid-air. Once he landed on the ground, his fist smashed the road, sending a wave of debris at Atlas down the street. The pebbles hissed once touching his aura; his arms raising to shield both eyes.
'A smokescreen.'
Atlas cut through the mist in one slash and unintentionally cleaved Muhammad in half, sending his mutilated body down the road. His eyes rolled. Just when a tan-skinned fist entered the air behind him, the Progenitor turned around, simultaneously stroking his sword.
Muhammad's arm fell off before Amit's feet, leaving him to glare down at the man crouched below him. He stood up and glanced at the wound, sighing.
"You're lucky it was a clean cut."
His eyes abruptly widened. Turning into his peripheral, Atlas felt an aluminum bat sink into his head, shattering his skull and launching him through the city. His crash sent him into multiple buildings with new holes in them now.
The Progenitor smirked. "Heh… not bad! Not bat at—"
Appearing before him in an instant, Muhammad spawned another copy, driving his fist engulfed in Fate into Atlas idle on the building floor. Though he rolled out of the way, the building started shaking, leading to the floor collapsing from under them. But that wasn't all.
As they continually fell through the building's many stories, the following levels crumbled below them, causing Muhammad and Atlas to fall while battling.
Piercing the air with his fist, Atlas grabbed his arm, chopping down on his forearm with one hand and uppercutting him with another fist. Muhammad reeled back, releasing his Fate, erratically blasting at the Progenitor with aura.
Gliding around in mid-air, Amit dodged the imminent bolts, advancing using the rubble to kick Muhammad in the chest. The attack sent the man from the building and into a lower rooftop. Atlas pointed his finger at the building. The poor Apex sunk into the platform sat up and groaned, rubbing the back of his bloody head. Then, with both eyes widening at the output's increase, he stared up at Atlas above him.
'Predestined Power: Maximum Aura.'
A straight laser beam blasted from his fingertip into the lower buildings, effectively detonating them and shading the sky with a nuclear palette.
Admiring the scenery of the mushroom cloud above, Atlas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "What a shame. And here I thought I was about to see something interesting—"
A sharpness stung his shoulder. Hitching his breath, Atlas hacked up blood, falling to the ground and covering his mouth. Muhammad released the conjured dagger of Fate in his hand, crouching beside the Progenitor.
"And here I thought you'd have more to show me. That's unfortunate… Atlas Amit."
"Oi." A monstrous signature spontaneously appeared. With long snowy hair that moved with the wind and eight eyes spread across his body, the Disastrous looked down at his prey with a smirk. "Are you the boss of those losers?"