To His Hell and Back-Chapter 520: A Chance Encounter-I

"I never thought I would be here again."

"And I never thought that I would live in a sewer again."

Circe slowly turned her head toward Atlas, one perfectly shaped brow lifting with mild disbelief. The dim torchlight caught the edge of her sharp features, shadows dancing along the damp stone walls around them.

"You lived in a sewer before?" she asked.

"Yes, I did," Atlas nodded eagerly, as if recalling a fond childhood memory rather than something most would rather forget. He cleared his throat and puffed his chest a little. "Remember the time before I lived in the castle? I was brought in during my teenage years, but before that... this was my home."

Circe stared at him.

"I lived down here," Atlas continued, gesturing around the narrow tunnel as water trickled past their boots. "I even made friends with the rats. Named them too."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You named the rats."

"Yes! One of them was called Mr. TinCan. Very polite fellow. Always shared his scraps."

"You have always had a... remarkable naming sense," Circe replied dryly.

Atlas beamed, entirely missing the sarcasm.

He glanced around again, his good mood faltering as unease crept back in. "Either way, what do we do now? I don’t see Cassius anymore. He said he would come back to fetch us, with Arabella— but..." His voice trailed off.

"Maybe he got himself caught," Circe said blandly.

Atlas froze.

"I felt his presence earlier," she continued calmly, as if discussing the weather. "But now? Nothing. It’s strange. For the first time, that little demon may have tangled himself in a mess he can’t wriggle out of."

"Oh, come on," Atlas protested, shooting to his feet. "Calling him a little demon is too much! I know you like Arabella a lot and see him as a— wait. You said he’s in trouble?"

Circe grabbed his arm and yanked him back down hard.

"Are you stupid?" she hissed. "We don’t even know the situation! Unlike Cassius, we can’t just change our faces whenever we please. I can alter mine if needed but you can’t. If we get caught now, forget about saving him. You’ll be dragged straight into Morpheus’s hands."

"Oh, come on," Atlas whispered urgently. "I know you’ll help—"

"What’s that noise?"

The sharp voice sliced clean through their argument.

Circe stiffened instantly.

Footsteps echoed above them, accompanied by the clink of armor. A guard approached the section of ground directly overhead, torchlight spilling through the narrow gaps in the iron bars embedded into the floor, grates meant for water drainage.

"I heard something down there," the first guard muttered, crouching slightly. "Lady Esme said she’s certain there’s a rat infestation in the castle."

The second guard snorted. "And she promised whoever finds it first a promotion."

The first guard’s eyes gleamed. "Then we better be quick. If we both find it—"

"Ahem."

The sound came deliberately this time.

Both guards stiffened.

One of them leaned closer to the iron bars, squinting into the darkness below. What he saw made him blink.

Golden hair caught faintly in the torchlight. Blue eyes reflected just enough glow to be seen, though shadows mercifully hid the sharper edges of Atlas’s features. To an untrained eye, he looked less like a fugitive prince and more like an unusually handsome man caught somewhere he shouldn’t be.

"I apologize for the disturbance," Atlas said smoothly, lowering his voice just enough to sound embarrassed rather than suspicious. "But it would be... troublesome for me if you were to summon the lady at this hour."

He offered a polite, almost sheepish smile.

"This was meant to be a rather... private outing in the depths of the night."

"What?" the guard snapped.

Before Circe could react, Atlas shifted slightly and pulled her closer, just enough for a spill of dark hair to catch the torchlight through the iron bars. Even housed within a boy’s body, the suggestion was unmistakable. In a castle crawling with secrets and strange tastes, it wasn’t the most shocking thing the guards could have stumbled upon.

The guard recoiled, face twisting in disgust. "What are you doing out here at this hour— you— you insolent freaks!"

"Come on," Atlas said quickly, lifting one hand in mock surrender while the other remained firmly around Circe’s shoulders. His tone was defensive, almost embarrassed. "Everyone wants a little fun once in a while."

He huffed and shook his head. "Either way, we have learned our lesson. We are leaving now. Just— please don’t call the lady. You know how she hates seeing things like this." His voice dipped slightly. "I don’t mind being fired, but... my partner doesn’t want anyone knowing he was here tonight."

"Argh, damn it!" the second guard cursed, already turning away. "I thought I finally had a chance at that promotion!"

He stomped off in frustration, boots echoing down the corridor.

The remaining guard lingered, squinting down at Atlas. His gaze dragged over his face again, brows knitting together. He frowned, clearly unsettled by the thought that someone this striking could exist in the castle without being memorable.

Atlas noticed and smiled.

"I wouldn’t mind company," he added lightly, tilting his head. "Well, if you don’t mind being under me—"

"Keep your twisted fantasies to yourself!" the guard barked, horror flooding his expression. He stumbled backward, spun on his heel, and bolted after his companion.

The footsteps faded.

The moment they were gone, Atlas released Circe and broke into laughter, shoulders shaking. "Did you see their faces?"

Circe did not laugh.

Instead, she slapped him hard across the crown of his head.

"You insane bastard!" she hissed. "What were you planning to do if they hadn’t believed you?"

Atlas rubbed his head, still grinning. "They were always going to."

"How could you possibly know that?" she snapped. "What if that woman did want to see this scene?"

"Well," Atlas shrugged easily, "most women don’t want to know what’s happening in someone else’s sex life."

She stared at him, incredulous.

"I’ve been caught on the spot during wars before," he continued, completely unfazed. "You learn the value of quick alibis. You would be surprised what you can say that will send even the most suspicious person running."

"By asking if they wanted to participate?" Circe shot back. "What if they agreed?"

Atlas paused, considering it far too seriously. "That... does sound fun."

"You freak!"

She stomped forward, boots splashing through the foul water, clearly beyond caring about the stench or the filth clinging to the stone. Without another word, she headed toward the narrow entrance of the waterway.

Atlas followed after her, hands folded behind his head, still wearing that infuriatingly pleased grin.

"You think that this is funny," she continued her nagging, "What if they came her and realize that something is amiss? We could have just went out quietly."

"And have them question everything? I’m confident that your magic could definitely erase all the traces of us being here but is it really going to be all? Using magic will leave trace and what we are against is a group of sorcerers who are more often to finding traces of magics." Atlas gently caressed her head, "I know you are worried and so am I. It’s especially more worrying that Cassius is no where to be found now."

"We should meet Arabella."

"Or maybe find Cassius first," Atlas hummed, "If Cassius is in trouble, I can only suspect that somehow one of those people had noticed something amiss in our plan, caught Cassius and separated him from Arabella. This would mean that there will be so many eyes around her and it would be walking to an open trap if we simply marched into her side. Seeing that even without Cassius’s presence, Arabella hadn’t found us either, I greatly doubt it would be the next best move to even try coming near her."

"But then..." Circe bit down hard on her thumb, nails pressing into skin as unease crawled up her spine. "We don’t have time."

Atlas followed her gaze toward the sewer’s narrow exit, his expression tightening as he weighed their options. "Then we find Cassius first," he said quietly. "Whatever trouble he’s in, we get him out. Somehow."

Circe let out a sharp breath. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? We can’t just walk back into the castle halls looking like this. Without a proper identity, we’d be dragged straight to Morpheus before we even reached the stairs."

Before Atlas could respond, the faint echo of footsteps reached them from above. Circe stilled at once and instinctively reached for Atlas’s sleeve, pulling him back into the shadows of the sewer wall. She leaned forward just enough to peer through the narrow opening between stone and iron grate.

A young girl slipped into view.

She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, her movements quiet, as if she were constantly bracing for someone to call her name. She darted toward a stack of crates and ducked behind them, pressing herself close as though she wished to disappear into the wood itself.

Moments later, another figure entered the corridor.

This one walked openly, her steps loud and in a hurry. In her right hand, she held a pair of scissors, ordinary in shape, but the way her fingers curled around the handle made it clear they were anything but harmless. The metal glinted faintly under the torchlight as she scanned the area, her eyes sharp and searching.

"I know you’re here, Ann," the girl with the scissors called out. The girl continued forward, boots clicking softly against stone. "Just come out and talk to me. You don’t need to hide." She paused, tilting her head as if listening for movement. "I know you love your brother. I really do."

Behind the crates, Ann didn’t move.

"But I love my family too," the girl went on, her grip tightening around the scissors. "And you and I both know this world doesn’t allow us to choose between them."

She stopped walking then, her gaze fixing on the crates where Ann was hidden.

"We would both do anything to protect our family," she said quietly. "Anything."

Her voice hardened, losing its earlier gentleness. "So don’t make this difficult. Just come out and tell me what your brother is planning to do."

A brief pause followed.

"...Or else," the girl added softly, "my father will be the next one to face Lady Esme’s anger."