The Ambush
The battlefield was eerily quiet, the thick fog curling around the remnants of the Fleur Empire's defeated soldiers. Atlas stood in the center, his sword dripping with ichor as his soldiers surveyed the destruction. The battle had been won, but it didn't feel like a victory.
"Clear the area," he commanded sharply. "Search for survivors."
Captain Darian stepped forward, his face grim. "We've secured most of the prisoners, Your Highness. But their commander remains unaccounted for."
Atlas's jaw tightened. "Then we're not finished here."
As he moved to join the search, a sudden surge of energy ripped through the air, blinding in its intensity. Atlas raised his sword instinctively, but the blast struck him before he could react, sending him sprawling to the ground. The magic wrapped around him like chains, pulling at his mind with unbearable force.
"Your Highness!" Darian shouted, but an invisible barrier prevented him from reaching Atlas.
Memories flashed through Atlas's mind—his family, his duties, and... something else. Someone. A face he couldn't quite place, a voice calling his name. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the visions shattered, leaving a void in their place.
When the light faded, Atlas lay motionless, his breaths shallow. Darian knelt beside him, shaking him gently. "Your Highness, speak to me."
Atlas's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and clouded. "Darian," he rasped. "What... happened?"
"We were ambushed," Darian said quickly. "Do you remember anything?"
Atlas frowned, his head pounding. "I remember... the battle. The palace. But..." He paused, confusion flickering in his eyes. "There's something missing."
Darian stiffened. "Should I inform—"
"No," Atlas interrupted, his voice cold and firm. "No one can know about this. If word spreads that I've been compromised..."
Darian hesitated, but he nodded. "Understood."
Atlas pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the tremor in his hands. "I'll stay here," he said. "The warzone needs me. That's all anyone needs to know."