Morning light filtered through the dense canopy, scattering across the forest floor. Amidst the interplay of light and shadow, a figure darted swiftly through the trees, stirring the wind in his wake, which in turn shook loose the leaves.
With a sharp whistling sound, an arrow pierced through the veins of the foliage, its cold gleam undiminished as it chased the fleeing figure. The sunlight streaming through the gaps in the branches imbued the arrow with magic, and as it re-entered the shadows, golden sparks scattered, illuminating the young man's tousled hair. A surge of danger prickled his senses—he twisted sharply to the side. Time seemed to slow as he locked onto the feathered arrow mere inches from his face, catching a glimpse of blood droplets reflected on its shaft and the sudden constriction of his own sapphire-blue pupils.
The arrow grazed past him, and time resumed its flow. The young man landed and continued his desperate sprint.
Behind him, the emerald-clad huntress gripped her Bow of Heaven tightly, relentless in pursuit. Her lips were nearly bitten bloody, yet her movements remained graceful. Leaves and dappled sunlight dyed her hair with nature's hues—only her left arm, corroded by resentment, marred the maiden's beauty.
"You won't escape! An offering to the twin deities… Phoebus Catastrophe!"
She allowed no respite for her prey. Atalanta loosed an arrow toward the nonexistent moon in the sky, summoning a rain of meteors in broad daylight. As they fell, Apollo's blessing clung to them, igniting illusory flames that magnified their might.
Golden lightning erupted, splitting the towering trees as it surged skyward. The young man's figure was engulfed in crackling arcs. Bioelectricity stimulated his cells, his heart roaring like an engine. Veins bulged, steam rising from his body as if clad in golden exoskeleton armor. With a single step, he transformed into a streak of light, evading the meteor shower in an instant.
Faced with Sakatsuki's refusal to fight, Atalanta's hunter instincts flared. Her competitive spirit discarded reason, surrendering to the honed intuition of her long career. She lost herself in the thrill of the chase—running, chasing, surpassing even Arcadia itself without pause.
For once, she abandoned herself to the hunt, relishing it as she hadn't in years.
"O fairy Callisto, unleash divine punishment!"
The Great Bear in the constellation roared. The seven stars aligned into a single arrow, only to split apart again as they closed in on Sakatsuki. The drifting starlight seemed to tear down the Milky Way, encircling the young man and striking at every part of his body. The golden lightning thrashed wildly, hammering against the starlight, but the Seven Arrows of the Big Dipper—recreating the wrath of the gods—shattered the electric armor effortlessly, piercing through it.
The storm of lightning dissipated, and a black-robed figure plummeted from the sky. Under the gaze of Apollo, the sun god, that body seemed so insignificant—capable of consuming another's heart and mind, yet no more than a speck in the vastness of the world.
—A direct hit!
After chasing each other through most of the forest and finally bringing down the 'prey,' Atalanta was overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of accomplishment. But as her primal instincts faded and reason returned, the huntress froze for a moment before suddenly letting out a scream and dashing toward the direction of the fall.
Pushing aside the obstructing bushes and trees, the scene before her opened up just as the scent of blood reached Atalanta's nose.
A bloodstained young man lay at the edge of the slope, atop a steep cliff. Above the precipice stretched the boundless sky, a clear azure expanse; below it, waves crashed against the shore, their echoes reverberating through the empty valley.
In the face of such grandeur, all grudges, hatred, wounds, and sorrows seemed to pale into insignificance.
But Sakatsuki was bleeding. Seven arrows had mercilessly pierced his limbs and torso. He struggled to breathe, even the act of propping himself up requiring immense effort.
Seeing the assassin in such a weakened state, Atalanta laughed—but there was little joy in her smile. Instead, it carried a hint of complexity. "Why didn't you dodge? Did you think this would earn my forgiveness? That your injuries and blood alone could make up for the sacrifices of so many children?"
Even bathed in sunlight, the dark miasma clinging to the girl's arm refused to dissipate. Compared to the crimson blood flowing from the young man's wounds, it stood out starkly—as if the grief from her trampled dreams far outweighed the pain of his flesh wounds.
"No, Atalanta..." A low voice spoke up, its vibrations through the air leaving Atalanta slightly dizzy. She had never heard Sakatsuki sound so fragile before.
"You are nature's favored child, a devotee of the Goddess of Hunt. That's why you wouldn't understand."
"What don't I understand?"
"You don't understand what it means to be human."
Sakatsuki lifted his gaze, and only now did Atalanta belatedly realize that the look in his eyes had never held the resonance of one human to another from the very beginning.
There was only admiration and pity for a beautiful beast.
How ironic that someone who dreamed of saving humans and children was a huntress raised in nature's embrace. If she couldn't even comprehend humanity, how could she presume to save them?
"The Industrial Revolution, the fog-bound London—here, everyone is a villain, yet no one is a villain."
"Among these walking corpses, you won't find a single person who deserves salvation, nor one who is inherently meant to be eradicated."
"There is no mastermind here—everyone is the mastermind. It's not as simple as identifying the tumors poisoning this city, hanging them from lampposts, and expecting things to improve. This city is an abyss, a bottomless pit. Remove one group of evildoers, and another will take their place. Punish one mastermind, and another will always emerge."
Whether she admitted it or not, the half-morning hunt had indeed allowed Atalanta to vent her emotions. Faced with Sakatsuki's weakened state, she unusually refrained from interrupting, pressing her lips together as she quietly listened to the words he hadn't had the chance to say.
"No one can endure such consumption, Atalanta. I'm not speaking of wealth or the body, nor is it about those who reach the end being the victors. Some things don't even have an end to begin with."
Blood dripped to the ground, blooming into tiny flowers. Shakily, Sakatsuki rose to his feet and spoke to the dazed Atalanta:
"Saving children is a lifelong endeavor, not something achieved by clinging to regrets... Resentment is just resentment. Though children have suffered endless evils, those are all in the past. The old order has been shattered, and the nightmares of those days have long since faded."
By the time Atalanta realized what was happening, her arm had already been seized. Startled, she looked up into those iridescent blue eyes that swirled like whirlpools, drawing in all her attention.
"So let them go, Atalanta. This is also about letting yourself go."
"No... No, I refuse!"
Gritting her teeth fiercely—because without this, she couldn't feel the hatred—Atalanta shook off Sakatsuki's grip. The hand tainted with resentment condensed something even darker.
It was the pelt of a beast, its original color obscured by an overwhelming aura of ill omen. All that met the eye was an impenetrable darkness.
Faced with that pelt adorned with countless hatreds and delusions, even Sakatsuki couldn't help but grow solemn, rendered speechless:
"You've gone mad, Atalanta!"
He recognized it—this pelt was Atalanta's second Noble Phantasm: Agrius Metamorphose, the Boar of Divine Punishment!