Some time later, he stepped out of the building. The hot afternoon sun bathed his figure, but he felt no heat.
'I've spoken to all of them.'
Atticus had made sure to speak to everyone close to him. He had told Anastasia, and the others, about the scale of the battle ahead. About the threat. He needed them to understand what they were up against.
Now, his conscience was clear. He was ready for the next step.
Reaching the highest point on the hill, he looked down at the sprawling metropolis they had built.
It had only been a year, yet it was awe inspiring in every sense.
Atticus couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride at what they had accomplished.
'Let's see what the people think.'
He vanished from the hilltop and appeared in the middle of a bustling bar.
The room was warm, filled with noise and the scent of alcohol and roasted meat. Music played faintly in the background. The bar was packed, filled with people of different races, laughing, drinking, and sharing stories.
