Atticus’s Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground - Chapter 1140

Chapter 1140: Waking Up
Darkness.

It felt as though he were floating in an endless void.

Atticus had been through this situation far too many times to not recognize it instantly, his mindscape.

‘I fainted… again.’

At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. Gain a sudden, overwhelming power-up, then black out right after.

‘I wonder how long I’ll be unconscious this time.’

If he remembered correctly, the last time he had been out for a month. It was a single blip to him, but an eternity in the real world.

But as the memories of the past surged into his mind, his thoughts froze.

He remembered everything.

The battle with Elderish.

The battle with the Gardener.

Killing the Gardener.

‘Shit.’

There was never a worse time to faint than now, or ever, really.

‘Please tell me it’s not going to be long this time…’

The usual calm he wore like armor cracked, giving way to panic.

Even though he and Whisker had dealt with the Gardener, though the latter still couldn’t be fully trusted, especially with his family involved, the planet’s situation was far from resolved.

‘The Zorvans…’

Jenera had filled him in on the 15 days of the Hollow Sun. If there was ever a perfect time for the Zorvans to launch a full assault, it was now.

‘I have to wake up.’

Atticus strained his mind, roared at the top of his lungs, tried everything he could think of, but the darkness remained unchanged.

‘This doesn’t make any sense.’

He was clearly conscious within his mind, so why hadn’t he woken up? Why was he still trapped here?

‘Was I captured?’

The thought hit like ice. It made sense. He could be in some kind of mental stasis or illusion, unable to awaken.

Which meant… things had gone horribly wrong on Eldoralth.

His mind turned cold. He needed to escape, fast. The longer he stayed, the more dreadful the possibilities became.

‘My will.’

His will had always been his greatest weapon, especially here, in his mind. If anything could get him out of this, it would be that.

Atticus shut everything out. He focused deeply, diving inward, toward the burning crimson at the core of his soul.

Instantly, a faint flicker of light sparked in his mind. Just as he began to make it grow, distant sounds brushed past him, almost imperceptible.

“…bond…”

“…dada…”

The voices were faint, like whispers carried by the wind. But they were growing clearer.

Atticus’s eyes shot open.

“Ozeroth? The Soulkin…?”

He turned, scanning the void for the source, but his eyes narrowed. The voice was coming from everywhere.

“OZEROTH!” he bellowed.

If he couldn’t find them, he would make them come to him.

He kept shouting, louder and louder, Ozeroth’s name echoing through the dark. And it worked. The voices grew stronger, closer.

Then, just as they felt almost within reach, Atticus’s eyes widened.

He felt it. A pull.

It seized him before he could react, yanking his consciousness forward.

And then, he vanished into the darkness.

…

An intense light suddenly flooded Atticus’s vision as his eyes flickered open.

‘Shit.’ Atticus winced.

But before his sight could fully adjust, his hand moved instinctively to his left waist, only to realize two things. First, his katana wasn’t there. And second, he was slow. Insanely slow.

‘Of course. What was I expecting?’ he cursed inwardly. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

He was all too familiar with the brutal drain that followed after overexerting his power and blacking out.

‘Looks like I was out for a long time, huh.’

So much for hoping he’d only been gone a few days. That hope was shattered in an instant.

“Dada!”

The sudden, adorable voice echoed in his mind, startling him.

‘That voice… the Soulkin?’

His vision finally cleared, and when it did, Atticus found himself staring at a figure perched calmly on his chest.

Spiked white fur, fluffy mane, and wide, gleaming eyes.

A puppy.

The Soulkin.

It sat upright, staring directly at him, unmoving. But the moment their gazes locked, its eyes lit up like twin suns.

“Dada! Dada!”

It lunged forward, immediately smothering Atticus’s face with frantic licks and wet swabs of its tongue.

“Ark—” Atticus groaned, instinctively sitting up and wiping at his face, only to groan louder.

The spit was thick. And annoyingly sticky.

But even upright, the Soulkin didn’t stop. Its tail wagged furiously, its tongue relentless.

“Alright, alright! Stop, stop!” Atticus finally said, waving a hand.

The Soulkin froze, made a small pitiful sound, and its ears drooped low, like it had just been scolded.

Atticus barely had time to wipe the mess off his face before sighing again. “Don’t look at me like that. You were about to drown me in your spit.”

But the Soulkin whimpered, his ears folding lower, and the light in its eyes dimmed. It looked so dejected it was almost comical.

Atticus exhaled heavily. “…Fine. Just a little.”

Instantly, the Soulkin’s eyes sparkled again, and before Atticus could react, it vanished, only to reappear right in front of his face, licking once more with glee.

Atticus groaned, clearly defeated.

Just then, a voice echoed inside his mind.

‘Hmph. Tricked by a child. Fainting really did a number on you.’

‘Ozeroth,’ Atticus said, smiling. ‘Glad to hear your voice too. Are we safe?’

While Atticus had been unconscious, Ozeroth was a different case entirely. He would have sensed everything happening outside.

‘Look around you.’

Atticus’s eyes sharpened. He glanced around.

“…Wood?”

That word didn’t even begin to cover it.

He was inside what looked like a living tree, massive and hollowed out. The walls were smooth and curved, bark-like but warm.

Gentle green vines curled near the corners, and golden sunlight streamed through an open window carved into the wood, casting soft rays across the floor.

The air smelled faintly of flowers and fresh earth. The entire room was like a natural sanctuary, but with upper class furnishings.

The clink of metal hitting wood snapped Atticus out of his reverie. He gently lifted the Soulkin, who was still enthusiastically licking him, and turned to see two figures standing just before his bed. Their gazes trembled, eyes wide.

Atticus smiled.

“Mom… Aurora.”

Both women instinctively placed their hands over their mouths. Tears streamed down their faces.

Anastasia was the first to move, rushing to his side and taking in the sight of her boy whole. She pulled him into a hug, careful not to apply too much pressure.

Not that it could hurt the current Atticus anyway. Though he kept that particular thought to himself.

As Anastasia held him, Aurora stood frozen, until Atticus opened an arm with a warm smile. She couldn’t hold herself back after that, diving into the hug.

“I’m glad to see you’re safe,” Atticus murmured, and Aurora only hugged him tighter, leaving wet streaks on his shoulder.

After a few seconds, she slowly pulled back, quickly wiping her tears away.