Atlas heard him, every single word he spoke. But he felt him as well. His emotions not reciprocating with his loud demeanor. Something inside him, not clicking with his speech at all. But whatever it may be. In the end. Atlas finally pieced it together.
'This old man.....so my suspensions were right. He did send me with the intention for my eventual death. Everything. Every motherfucking thing was calculated.'
'Damn. Talk about....fuck. Who am I to complain. I was the naive one who believed him....'
'Deactivate...' he voiced, again coming back to his perpetual darkness.
His former mood which was of a bit delight from his sister's care now soldered from his so-called father's festering comments. He didn't want to let it affect him as in his heart a part of him knew he was being manipulated. But in the end, it was his own fault. Fault of his craving, fault of his trauma perhaps.
