The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss-Chapter 35: The Weight of Apologies

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Atlas's mind buzzed with the sudden influx of information, each notification vibrating through his consciousness like a gong struck in an empty cathedral. He absorbed it all—the truth of their revival, the cost paid by Eli, and the lingering presence of Jörmungandr hovering above them like a judgment waiting to be passed.

He glanced at the dark Veil, its childlike form now tinged with something new: uncertainty. The entity that had once sought their destruction stood before him, trembling slightly under the weight of its own existence. Its single eye darted between Atlas and Eli, who was still clinging to him as though afraid letting go would unravel reality itself.

Eli's tears soaked into his shirt, her breath hitching against his chest. Her snot smeared across his skin—a grotesque yet strangely intimate detail that grounded him in this surreal moment. Despite everything, she was alive. Breathing. Real. And for now, that was enough.

Atlas turned his gaze upward toward Jörmungandr, whose three glowing eyes pierced through the eternal night. The serpent tilted its massive head, studying him with what felt like curiosity—or perhaps satisfaction. Whatever it was, Atlas couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched not just as survivors but as variables in some grand equation only the titan understood.

HUUUUUUUAAAAAAAA!!!!

Another roar tore through the air, numbing their ears and rattling their bones. It was a sound meant to remind them of their insignificance, yet Atlas found himself oddly unaffected. Perhaps because he already knew how small they were compared to the forces around them—or perhaps because he no longer cared.

{....I get it, I get it...} The Veil finally spoke, its voice laced with nervousness despite its attempt at arrogance. {Human!?} it called out, pacing closer.

Atlas raised an eyebrow, watching as the shadowy figure hesitated mid-step. This wasn't the same monster that had tried to kill them moments—or lifetimes—ago. Something fundamental had shifted within it, and Atlas suspected it had less to do with regret and more to do with fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of irrelevance. Fear of stagnation.

{.....My greed has troubled you, Human.} The Veil continued, its tone faltering slightly. {Her too... I want to make an apology...}

Atlas sighed, gently prying Eli off his chest. She resisted, her grip tightening like iron chains, but he managed to stand without fully detaching her. Her body clung to his side, refusing to let even an inch of space separate them. He didn't blame her. If roles were reversed, he doubted he'd have been able to let go either.

"Void Veil," Atlas began, his voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside him. "You ask for apology. Are you familiar with the concept?"

The entity froze, its one eye widening in confusion. Clearly, these words weren't its own—they were borrowed advice from its mother. Anxiety rippled through its shadowy frame, a foreign sensation that made it twitch involuntarily.

Atlas stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them until he could practically feel the cold void emanating from the creature. His lips curled into a smirk, sharp and knowing.

"Apology isn't just words, Void Veil," he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "It's repentance. A recognition of harm done. My forgiveness is a gift—one you haven't earned yet."

The Veil recoiled, visibly shaken by his response. For centuries, it had operated on instinct and pride, never considering the consequences of its actions beyond immediate survival or dominance. Now, faced with accountability, it floundered like a fish out of water.

"But," Atlas added, softening his tone ever so slightly, "it doesn't mean I'll never forgive you. Growth requires effort—not just yours, but mine as well. If you understand that, then we're good."

His words hung heavy in the air, reverberating through the darkness like a challenge. The Veil stared at him, its singular eye flickering uncertainly. Then, slowly, it nodded—a gesture so human it almost hurt to witness.

Atlas turned his attention back to Jörmungandr, raising his voice to shout into the abyss. "Don't you agree?!!!" he demanded, his tone defiant and unyielding.

HUUUUUUUUAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

The serpent roared again, louder this time, shaking the very fabric of the realm. But beneath the thunderous noise, Atlas detected something else: approval. Satisfaction. Maybe even relief.

The Void Veil unconsciously circumscribed itself, Atlas's words embedding deeper than even it had anticipated. Repentance—a concept so foreign yet intoxicatingly human—had taken root within its shadowy essence.

{.....So this is what you...call being....human...." The Veil murmured, its voice softer now, stripped of the abrasive vibrations that once defined it.

"Repentance...." It repeated, tasting the word like a bitter herb laced with honey. "Huma...Atlas. Okay. I will repent. I will repent...like you said." Its tone carried awe, as though discovering fire for the first time.

The world was vast, teeming with countless philosophies and interpretations of existence. And here stood Atlas, offering clarity amidst chaos.

"....repentance....I like that," the Veil whispered again, dissolving into a wisp within Atlas's shadow, almost smiling—an expression absurdly out of place on such an entity.

"...what are you doing..?" Atlas asked, his voice tinged with unease. This wasn't what he intended. He wanted these godlike beings to evolve, shed their egos, and leave him be—not cling closer under the guise of redemption.

"Like you said—repentance." Void's voice echoed from the shadows. "I will wait and repent... until you forgive me, Atlas."

HAAAUU!!! HAAAUUU!!! HAAAAAUUU!!

Jörmungandr bellowed one final time, her colossal form shifting slightly. A smirk—or something akin to satisfaction—etched at the edge of her abyssal mouth.

HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

With a thunderous farewell roar, the serpent ascended, her departure stirring winds fierce enough to extinguish the fires she'd ignited. Darkness swallowed everything once more, leaving only silence behind.

"..what now?" Eli asked, her voice barely audible over the lingering echoes.

Atlas turned toward the faint glow of eyes piercing through the void. "...it's time to repent, buddy. Lead us to the Sixth Realm."

The Veil smirked, sensing opportunity where others might see despair. But just as it detected Jörmungandr's exit, another presence entered the realm. Something—or someone—was coming.

"...I think we have some company," Veil voiced, its single eye narrowing.

Atlas activated his "Eyes of Eternal Truth," momentarily forgetting where they were. They weren't safe; they were still in the Dark Continent—the most treacherous expanse known to man and monster alike.

"Eli, stay at my back..." he commanded, preparing for whatever horror awaited them.

"No..." she replied firmly, finally releasing her grip on him. Her body began to glow golden, mimicking the radiance Atlas emitted when he consumed the fruit of Yggdrasil.

"...I have evolved, Atlas. I won't just be a burden anymore," she declared, her voice steady and resolute.

Atlas simply nodded, pride swelling despite the tension. His own aura flared brighter, his skin glowing red-hot beneath the surface. Together, they burned like twin stars against the encroaching darkness.

"Don't forget about me..." Veil chimed in, encompassing the shadows born from their light. Its many teeth and eyes became visible once more, a predator cloaked in night.

"...let's not die this time around," Atlas muttered, his voice cutting through the oppressive gloom like a blade.

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[ System

Name: Atlas Von roxweld

Age: 14 (32)

Body: C => A+ grade.

BODY

Bone: 10 > 60

Muscles: 19 > 69

Organs:8 > 108

Brain: 15 > 60 (locked)

Heart: ....( error)

Mana nerves: ...(error)

Skills:

Voice control (C++ grade)

Prince's Aura( A grade)

Truth eyes. (B grade)

Death Decay ( B grade)

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Points: 64 > 678]