A heavy silence filled the room for a long time.
Atlas's eyes stayed on the floor, mind scattered, breathing uneven.
Alice broke the silence.
"You want something to eat?"
Atlas shook his head slightly. "No."
The door opened then—Evelyn and Charles walked in.
"Atlas," Evelyn said softly.
She came closer, hugged him—brief but tight. "I'm glad you're okay."
Atlas just nodded.
Evelyn moved to the chair beside Alice.
Charles looked Atlas over, head to toe. Not showing his worry:
"We'll handle everything."
Atlas lifted his eyes, looked at Charles, gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
Evelyn studied Atlas's face, asked:
"Is there anything you need from us?"
Atlas's answer came fast and clear:
"No."
The door opened once more. This time Helen's assistant came in.
Voice low but serious:
"The nurse said... Noah's awake. Wants to see Atlas."
Atlas's head snapped toward the door. As he stood, the world went dark for a moment—he had to grab the edge of the bed.
Charles immediately pulled the wheelchair over.
"It'd be better if—"
"I'll walk," Atlas said. Not arguing in his tone, just決心.
Alice and Sienna moved reflexively—Sienna walked beside Atlas without touching him, just ready to catch him if needed.
Atlas walked on his own steps, even if he swayed slightly.
The hallway was heavy with silence. Just the soft sound of their shoes hitting the floor.
When they reached Noah's door, Helen was there to meet them.
She'd tried to hide the exhaustion in her eyes.
She approached Atlas, hugged him briefly.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Atlas put one hand on Helen's back. A short, controlled touch.
Then stepped back.
Stood in front of the door.
Froze for a moment—ran his hands through his hair, tugged at his collar, tried to take a deep breath but it didn't quite settle in his chest.
Still, he reached for the handle.
The door opened slowly.
Noah turned his head.
Their eyes met.
Noah tried for the small smile forming on his lips, but the exhaustion on his face cut it short.
Atlas stayed at the threshold—like he couldn't bring himself to step forward.
Then slow, controlled steps toward Noah.
Noah never looked away from him.
When Atlas reached him, he stopped for a moment.
They both looked at each other without moving.
Atlas's voice came out hoarse, his breath unsteady:
"Can I hug you?"
A small, fragile smile appeared on Noah's tired face.
"Yeah," he whispered.
Atlas slowly sat on the edge of the bed.
His movements were careful.
Then he opened his arms to Noah.
Noah leaned toward him without hesitation.
When Atlas pulled him to his chest, he took a deep breath.
Noah rested his head on Atlas's shoulder—a soft, trusting contact.
Atlas's fingers settled on Noah's back, didn't squeeze, just held...
Atlas closed his eyes.
For a moment it looked like he'd cry but he held himself back—jaw locked, shoulders trembling slightly.
Noah tilted slightly toward Atlas's neck.
Left a soft, very light kiss—like saying thank you, like saying I'm here.
Atlas's breath caught in that moment. His hold didn't change.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Atlas kissed his cheek lightly and said, "I love you." Noah managed to say, "Me too."
They stayed wrapped together a while longer.
The second Atlas sat in the chair, he cupped Noah's hand in his.
His hands were still cold, but alive.
"I missed you," Atlas said, voice hoarse—more like breath.
Noah turned his eyes to him. Tired, heavy, but familiar.
"I... missed you too," he said. Words slow, almost a whisper.
Atlas couldn't stop looking at him. He studied the redness around his eyes, the faint frost marks on his lashes, the pallor in his cheeks—every detail.
"Your eyes..." he said, smiling slightly without meaning to.
"Right now... they're weirdly between green and blue."
Noah's lips curved up this time. That small smile pushed all the weight off Atlas's shoulders, even if just for a moment.
Atlas smiled back without thinking.
They just looked at each other for a while.
Didn't need words.
The silence itself was saying something—you're here, you're alive, it's over.
A soft knock. A nurse came in, set the medication tray on the table.
"I'm gonna give him a mild sedative," she said gently.
"He'll get sleepy soon."
Atlas nodded his thanks.
Noah was watching Atlas's face more than the nurse.
As the medication moved through his IV, his eyelids grew heavy but his gaze stayed on Atlas.
Atlas quietly squeezed his hand tighter.
Noah's eyes slowly closed.
He drifted off to sleep looking at Atlas.
Atlas sat there without moving for a while longer, watching Noah breathe, watching his chest rise and fall.
Then slowly let go of his hand, stood up.
Crossed the room quietly. When he opened the door, Alice and Sienna were waiting.
"How is he?" Alice asked.
Atlas took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly.
"He'll be better." This time his voice was steady.
Helen came right over.
"I talked to the doctor earlier," she said. "He needs to stay five days. If there's no complications, they'll move him to a regular room tomorrow."
Atlas nodded. The news was both good and heavy, but the kind you accept.
"Atlas," Alice said, "you need to eat something."
Atlas looked like he'd refuse but didn't argue. Went with them back to the room.
Alice pointed to the food on the table.
"Eat a little, at least." Her tone was soft but firm.
Atlas sat down without answering.
Sienna handed him water.
Atlas took a few bites. Alice's gaze—not pushing, just there—was enough.
Soon after, the nurse came back, gave Atlas a light injection in his arm.
"Rest would be good for you," she said politely.
Atlas lay down on the bed. As his eyes closed, one image stayed in his mind:
Noah's tired smile before his eyes shut.
Sleep finally settled over him too.
---
Atlas woke to the nurse's voice—sounded far away at first, then getting closer. When he opened his eyes, the white ceiling light burned. A few seconds later the silhouette sharpened—Evelyn. Sitting in the chair, ankles crossed, hands clasped together. She'd been in the same position so long her knuckles had gone white.
As the nurse reached for his arm, Atlas tensed reflexively, then realized and relaxed. Blood drawn, nurse left without a word.
Atlas turned his head to the side. Evelyn was looking at him, a controlled tension in her face.
"How long was I out?" Atlas asked. His voice hoarse, hadn't quite come back yet.
"Over eight hours," Evelyn said.
Like she wanted to add finally.
As Atlas sat up in bed, his back muscles tightened. First time in a long time his body felt like it belonged to him.
"Noah?" he asked immediately. The question squeezed between breaths.
"He was sleeping. Just now." Evelyn's voice was soft but her eyes were red—a woman who'd been awake too long without saying it.
Atlas reached for the water on the table, his grip on the bottle almost rushed. After a few gulps:
"Who's with him?"
"Helen."
Atlas stood up. Swayed for a moment, pulled himself together. "I need to shower. Did they bring my stuff?"
"Yes," Evelyn said, but then paused. "It'd be better if you ate something before you shower."
Atlas nodded but it was obvious he wouldn't listen.
"Let them know when Noah wakes up."
"Okay."
As Atlas headed toward the shower, Evelyn watched him—with that maternal reflex, alert even to the footsteps behind him.
---
As hot water hit his shoulders, the last four days flooded into his mind.
Noah's unconscious face.
The stretcher.
Running footsteps.
Blood.
The moment Atlas lost control.
He closed his eyes. Clenched his jaw under the water.
Noah's look at him yesterday stuck in his mind—that small, tired but aware smile.
"He'll be okay," he told himself.
While the sound of water swallowed him.
He got out of the shower, got ready, looked in the mirror and noticed his slightly swollen eyes.
Get it together. The real fight's just starting.
---
When Atlas came out, Alice and Charles were in the room. Even the sound of Alice's bracelet seemed harsher than usual—the only detail betraying her tension.
"Back to life," Alice said.
Atlas responded with a slight smile—the corner of his mouth moved for a second.
"Get them to arrange the best room for Noah," Atlas said.
"I'm staying with him too."
Charles nodded—the lines in his face deepened. "Alright."
"Any word from Richard?" Atlas added, his tone sharper.
"Nothing yet."
Charles took a breath.
"Thomas is looking for Noah everywhere."
Atlas's gaze sharpened instantly—shoulder muscles tightened. The vein in his throat showed.
"Would Richard help him?"
Alice pressed her lips together. "Right now you've got both Richard and Thomas against you."
Atlas, low voice: "Fuck."
Charles continued: "He could remove you from the board."
Atlas looked at him, eyes darkening. "He'd lose too."
Alice tilted her head. "Richard does unexpectedly clever things, Atlas."
The room's silence grew heavier.
Then Charles: "You need to make sure you're not being followed anymore."
Atlas let out a short breath. "Haven't completely solved that problem yet."
Alice, narrowing her eyes: "We need to work with a good team on this."
Charles: "We'll look into it and let you know today."
Atlas: "Thanks."
Alice watched Atlas for a moment. "When Noah's discharged, stay at mine."
Atlas shook his head. "We'll go home."
Alice raised her eyebrows. "You need a new place. Stay with me till we arrange it."
Atlas lightly touched Alice's arm. For him, this was the most emotional version of okay.
---
Evelyn appeared at the door. "Noah woke up. A bit ago."
Atlas's face changed instantly—all the conversation, dangers, threats in the room got shoved to the background.
"I'm going to him."
He grabbed his phone from the table.
Screen lit up—hundreds of calls, messages, emails.
He glanced quickly at the headers while walking.
Answered only the most important ones with two-word replies.
Closed the rest.
Put the phone in his pocket.
Stopped at the door for a moment.
Took a breath.
Held his hand on the handle.
His fingers trembled—very slightly.
Opened the door.
---
Noah turned his head slightly, noticed Atlas.
Atlas stood at the threshold for a moment—with an expression that didn't want to miss anything, he looked Noah over from head to toe—the color in his neck, the exhaustion in his eyes, the rhythm of his breathing.
"Hey," Atlas said.
His voice soft. Dangerously emotional.
"Hey," Noah said. With a faint, fragile smile.
Atlas walked to Noah with quick steps, dropping all the patience he'd been holding. Noah reflexively sat up straighter in bed.
The second Atlas sat down, he wrapped his arm around Noah—not a controlled movement, instinctive.
Noah hugged him back too, weak but real.
"How are you?" Atlas whispered, a slight tremor in his voice.
"I'm okay," Noah said.
But his voice was tired, thin, carrying a gentle fragility.
Atlas bent his head, left a light kiss on Noah's neck.
"You'll be better," he said, and started running his hand gently through Noah's hair. Then, "I'm here."
Noah's eyes filled—no trigger, no dramatic build—
just tears flowing. Silent. Disobedient.
Atlas saw it but acted like he hadn't.
Just moved his hand over Noah's back—his fingers moving in the unconscious rhythm of someone trying to regulate breathing.
They stayed like that for a while.
Their chests touching, breaths mismatched at first, then slowly falling into the same tempo.
Noah's heartbeat was fast at first—then blended with Atlas's pace.
Atlas physically felt the moment Noah's breathing returned to normal.
He pulled back. Sat in the chair by the bed.
His eyes still bright—the edges red.
"Did you eat anything?" he asked.
The controlled softness in his voice—the tone of a man forcing himself to believe the storm was over.
Noah shook his head. "No."
"Let's eat together."
Atlas gave a short, almost military signal to the door.
Soon food arrived: soup, puree, fruit.
Noah held the spoon with trembling fingers. As Atlas watched, the corner of his mouth curved involuntarily—those stupid cooking moments came to mind, the ceiling collapse, the way Noah's eyes disappeared when he laughed.
Noah noticed.
Gave back the same small smile.
Atlas immediately looked away—like a caught secret.
When the meal was done, Noah lay back on the bed. His eyelids opening and closing while he kept watching Atlas.
"You staying at the hospital?" Voice slow, thin.
Atlas shrugged slightly. "Where else would I stay?"
Noah tried to find Atlas's hand.
His fingers touched his fingers. A weak squeeze.
"Thank you," he said.
This word normally came out quick. This time... it broke into syllables.
Atlas's face softened. "I'm here."
Noah smiled faintly—a few seconds later his eyes closed. Surrendered to sleep.
Atlas leaned forward slowly.
With his fingertips, he pushed back the strand of hair that had fallen in his eyes—that touch held both control and surrender.
Then left a kiss on his forehead—too light, too cautious.
Holding himself back.
He left the room.
Helen's assistant was in the hallway.
Atlas gave him a quick look—cold, clear, executive gaze.
"Let me know if anything happens."
The assistant nodded.
As Atlas stepped into the hallway, he looked at his phone. Several calls from his mother.
Called back. Told her what happened.
"Be careful," his mother said.
When the call ended, Atlas stood still for a second.
Most-heard sentence of his life.
Be careful.
Always. Everywhere. Every situation.
When he returned to his room, Evelyn and Alice were waiting.
Evelyn was looking at files. "Your tests are clean," she said.
Atlas nodded. "I'm staying with Noah."
Alice was ready: "Your room's being prepared."
Atlas walked to the window.
Leaned his back against the glass—shoulders low, the area around his jaw tense.
"Helen's not at the hospital, is she?"
Evelyn sat on the bed. "No."
Alice cut through the silence.
"You know... Thomas."
Atlas turned his head. Their eyes met.
"Not human..."
A breath's pause.
"...his bloodline's protocol."
That sentence dropped the room's temperature a few degrees.
Evelyn looked back at the papers. "There's a board meeting next week. You should meet with Richard before."
Atlas's voice sharpened. "I know."
Alice clasped her hands. "Be ready for anything in that meeting."
Atlas took a deep breath. His chest expanded, then fell.
"Fuck."
Evelyn added: "Charles is doing research on Richard."
Atlas pressed his fingers against the window's metal frame—
his knuckles went white.
"Nobody knows what Richard's planning."
Silence fell over the room.
"He'll force me into one of the options where he wins."
His voice low, an exhausted man's voice.
Evelyn bowed her head.
Alice sat straighter—more composed.
"Then you'll come at him with an option where you win."
Atlas looked at her.
A slow nod—acceptance, preparation, war.
"I've got things I need to handle. Won't be at the hospital for a few hours."
Evelyn and Alice exchanged a brief, meaningful look.
"Security's here," Alice said. "Let's leave together."
Evelyn stood up too. "I'll be home tonight. Call if anything happens."
Atlas headed for the door.
His steps were quiet but his intentions weren't.
Everything was just beginning.
And they both knew it.