[Present time]
Lola.
Chacha.
Second.
The Bennets.
Everyone.
There were just so many people on the line, so many things to lose. Atlas could not afford to die in here. He just couldn't.
BANG!
Atlas clenched his teeth as his shoulder was tossed back, blood leaking from it. But that didn't stop him from raising his rifle and firing at the one who shot him.
"Atlas!" Marceline shouted, firing back at those behind them. When she whipped her head, all she saw was blood trickling down Atlas's fingertips. "You're shot."
But Atlas just clutched his shoulder and glanced at them.
"We don't have time!" he shouted, shifting his eyes to Draken.
Unlike earlier, Draken was no longer drenched in the blood of others. He was bleeding himself now, having shielded their group with his own body, and still carrying the elders until they insisted on going on foot.
Draken panted heavily as he stepped forward. "Let's go," he breathed out, fighting his own consciousness and body from collapsing.
