Disclaimer: Don't own Trollhunters or any of its characters.

Hey! Back with a new chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Big thanks to Charlie for beta reading my stuff. I really appreciate it. Check out their Trollhunter fanfic "Labyrinth" if you can. It's really good.


Wherefore Art Thou Trollhunter (III)

He exhaled, tightening his grip on the Sword of Daylight. Before this, he spent his evenings cooking dinner for Stricklander or patrolling Arcadia. Now, as newly designated Trollhunter, he had other duties. However, instead of getting to fight bad trolls like Blinky spoke of earlier, he was doing the one thing he hated most.

Training.

"Widen your stance." Binky said.

AAARRRGGHH! and Toby conversed excitedly as Blinky circled around Atlas. They appeared to be growing closer, Toby handing a bag of cat hair to the other as a gesture of good will. Good. His friend needed more friends. Toby was nice, too nice really, and he would need all the allies he could get if he was going to be among trolls.

Sooner or later, Atlas thought, we'll need to figure out a training regime for him. Toby would be deadweight in a fight as of now. They needed to work on his dexterity and strength. Perhaps he could ask Blinky if they had any small weights for Toby to try after the lesson.

"Wider."

"Why?" Atlas said.

The blue troll threw him a look.

He flicked the tip of his tongue against the back of his front two teeth. "Okay, fine. We'll do it your way."

Begrudgingly, Atlas followed Blinky's instructions, moving his legs further apart. He knew how to fight, so why was he even doing this? It felt like his early days at the Order, except no one was trying to kill him. Yet.

"Good, good. Keep your frame," Blinky gestured at his torso. "Much better."

He replied, "You're welcome."

Blinky rolled three of his eyes then motioned upwards. "Raise your sword, Master Atlas."

"Can't I just do this in my other form?" Asked Atlas.

"No, you must learn how to fight in this form. It is your human half that is the Trollhunter after all." He continued to make adjustments on Atlas' form. "Head up, chin out, stomach in."

The teen grumbled, "You don't have to correct me. I know how to do this."

"Apparently I do if you're not doing it correctly. Whoever taught you to fight was either horribly inept or terribly negligent. Proper form is important." The scholar frowned, eyes downcast. "Please do not take any offense, Master Atlas. I'm just trying to help. Whether you believe it or not, I want you to survive."

"I-It's…" Atlas bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Blinky."

Atlas knew snapping at Blinky was wrong, but it was just so hard to accept the truth. For so long he'd considered himself a decent fighter, able to hold his own against Nomura and the other changelings to an extent. Now, he needed to be even better than that, and he wasn't sure he had the capacity to do it.

"Apology accepted." Blinky put up three fingers. "Now then, the Trollhunter lives and dies by three rules."

"Oh dear Pale Lady, I'm getting flashbacks." Atlas muttered, thinking back to his first training session with Nomura.

The troll blinked, taken back. "You're heard of these rules, Master Atlas?"

"No, no, go on. It just reminded me of something." He said, waving his sword for Blinky to continue.

"Posture, Master Atlas."

"Oh, right, sorry." He straightened out his back, legs once again in line with his shoulders.

Blinky threw up a single digit. "Rule number one: always be afraid."

"Yeah, that's not gonna be a problem." Atlas said, eyes suddenly widening as a stone flew directly at his head. He ducked. "Whoa! What the hell, Blinky!"

Behind him, AAARRRGGHH! caught the stone, munching it down not a second later.

Blinky smiled wide, delight in his gaze. "See? Fear is good. Keeps us alert, on guard, makes us vigilant as they say. Your reflexes are quite good, Master Atlas, but you are still unused to your human body and its limitations."

"Then how do I," he began, hitting back another stone with the wide edge of his sword, "get used to it? It's not like I have access to it outside the armor."

"Did you not keep your human form in the woods? Surely you could do so again."

He sighed. "That was a fluke. I'm not sure I can do that again, especially since, you know…the side effects."

Blinky cringed, his blue face a shade lighter. "Ah, yes. That. Well, allow me to do some research. I've some shopping at Rot-Guts later this week. Perhaps they'll have something there. Now then! Put up your guard, Master Atlas!"

He threw two more stones. Atlas reacted accordingly, the last nearly clipping him on the leg.

"A hero is not he who is fearless, but he who is not stopped by it."

Atlas cocked his head to the side. "You know, with the amount of Trollhunters you trolls have gone through, perhaps it might be time to reword or completely change that first rule—Hey! Woah! Not the face!"

"Two: always finish the fight." Blinky recited. "An opponent must be given no mercy."

"That," Atlas hit back one of the rocks, "is not an issue for me."

Changelings were a vicious sort, something Atlas had learned since he first started at the Order. If you lost, they gloated about it, if you won, they would shut up, but if you made it a draw? Well, good luck walking down the hallways at night.

"Good answer. As the Trollhunter, every fight you are a part of may very well be your last. That is why you must always give it your all, no matter the cost." Blinky instructed sternly, then grinned maniacally. He tossed the rest of his rocks at Atlas, laughing like some cartoonish villain.

Atlas blocked most of them, yelling, "Oh, come on!"

"No one will give you mercy, Trollhunter!" Blinky exclaimed. "Least of all, your trainer!"

"You just want to throw crap at me!"

"Widen your stance, Master Atlas!"

The teen finally smacked the last rock away with his blade, breathing heavily. "You mean I have to kill them."

Of course. Just like changelings, trolls were an unforgiving bunch. Mercy was for the weak after all.

Atlas gazed down at his blade. Could he really do it? Could he really kill someone?

"Indeed. It is the job of the Trollhunter to vanquish his opponent through death." Blinky remarked, turning to look at AAARRRGGHH! and Toby for additional rapport.

"Sad but true." AAARRRGGHH! said.

Toby stood, scratching the back of his head, a look of unease on his face. "Dude, that sounds kinda harsh. You're asking Atlas to kill people."

"Ours is an unforgiving world, Tobias." Blinky swerved back to Atlas, an unusual softness in his gaze. "Some of us understand that more than most."

Atlas lifted the weapon above his head, staring at his reflection in its side. Blinky was right. His choice to lie to his dad could kill him if he wasn't careful. His mouth twisted. He was walking on a double-edged sword. If he continues to play Trollhunter, then he would get his identity back (and presumably his mother as well), but if he gets found out by the changelings, they would feed him to Bular.

Oh goody. His future prospects were looking better and better, weren't they?

Blinky put up a final finger. "Hence, the third rule: when in doubt, always kick them in the gronk-nuks."

Atlas choked, trying not to laugh. "Seriously? What if it's a girl-troll, Blinky?"

The troll paused. "You know, I'm not actually certain. Should surprise them at least."

The idea of kicking Nomura between the legs, while humorous, would probably lead him to getting his head removed from his person.

He lowered the sword, arms burning with exhaustion. Damn, he only started an hour ago and he was already this tired? Sweat dripped down his temples. His energy levels were shit compared to his normal form. This was not going to be easy. "So, what's next?"

He shouldn't have asked.

"Ah! So, the Trollhunter's training begins." Draal said, or rather yelled, considering the volume of his voice.

Oh crap.

The troll's face dropped at Atlas' appearance. "Wait a moment. Who the hell are you? Where's the half-breed? I thought he was the Trollhunter."

The group looked at each other. Blinky rubbed his chin, forehead creased in thought. Toby and AAARRRGGHH! shrugged.

What should they say?

Atlas twirled the sword around—ignoring the fiery ache in his arms—as he tried to think on his feet. "Oh, he's around. See, apparently…more than one person can be worthy of being the Trollhunter. He was…filling in for me yesterday. He's my substitute."

"What?" Draal's face dropped, dismayed. "Two Trollhunters? And one's a human Trollhunter? That's impossible!"

"So is a half-troll Trollhunter." Atlas said. "Don't worry. I'm sure if we need a third sub, we'll write you in at the top of the list of recommendations."

Blinky reached out. "Wait, Master At—"

"Jim!" Toby covered Blinky's mouth just in time. "Master Jim, right Blinky? Our resident human Trollhunter."

The scholar frowned at Toby, removing the boy's hand and hurrying over to Atlas' side. "This is going to blow up in our faces if he finds out," Blinky said in Atlas' ear.

"He's not going to find out unless you squeal." Atlas whispered back.

"You're expecting me to lie to my deceased friend's son?"

Atlas nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that would be great actually."

Blinky smacked his face with three hands, two on each side and one to the top of his head. Finally, he turned back to Draal. "This is Jim. He is to be our new Trollhunter."

"Well," Draal began, recovering from his earlier shock. "I thought the new Trollhunter might accept my services as a sparring partner today. Part of your training regiment, isn't it? Surely the amulet would choose a competent fighter."

Blinky laughed nervously "In due time, perhaps. Another decade or two should do. At—Jim is still young, he is not even a fully grown human."

"Why wait? I'm rather eager to see your new charge demonstrate his mettle." Vendel said, his words creating a slight echo through the arena.

Atlas searched around, finally spotting the old troll in the upper seating area. He tapped on his amulet, smirking. "It would be a shame if Atlas showed up right about now, hmm. Might really change things up."

Even from far away, Atlas could see Vendel narrowing his eyes. "Yes, it would. It would also be a shame if I forbade the Trollhunter's human companion from entering Trollmarket, hmm."

Damn. Atlas had to hand it to him; that was a good call on his bluff.

"Touché, old goat." Atlas admitted.

"Call me that again and I'll hang you up by your ears."

Atlas gave him a toothy grin, pointing his sword at Vendel. "You're beginning to grow on me, Vendel."

"And you are beginning to try my patience." Vendel signaled with his hand. "Why don't you show us what you're made of, Trollhunter? Let them spar."

Atlas' face went white. Oh crap, he shouldn't have egged the old goat on.

"Blinky, I don't think I can do this." Atlas said, watching as Draal moved into position on the opposite end of the ring. "Actually, scratch that, I know I can't do this. I'm not used to this body yet. He's going to kill me."

"Hit him as hard as you can." Blinky supplied.

"I'm not sure you've noticed, but this body cannot hit very well. At all. I mean, have you seen my legs? Very skinny. My arms are practically noodles. I have no muscle definition in this form."

"Surely it's not that bad. You fought Bular, and, though it was brief, you did so quite gloriously. Your blade-work was especially impressive."

"That was luck and adrenaline."

Blinky encouraged him. "You can still do this."

"He's going to beat the stuffing out of me, and I don't have a lot of stuffing to lose!" His shoulders tightened. "I'm not good enough, Blinky."

"At—Jim. It's okay. You are much stronger than you think. Trust yourself."

"Easy for you to say," Atlas muttered bitterly as Blinky wandered off towards where AAARRRGGHH! and Toby were situated.

How could he trust himself when he didn't even know his own human half?

It had only been two days since he got the amulet and he'd only spent a fraction of that time in his human form.

Think, Atlas told himself, what can I use to take down Draal?

"Begin!" Vendel yelled.

Draal cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders, a big smirk on his face, clearly not viewing Atlas as a threat.

Good. Atlas adjusted his grip, forefinger on the hilt. He breathed in and out, trying to calm his raging heart. Let Draal underestimate him. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

Atlas rushed at Draal, catching the other off-guard. He dipped as Draal swiped sideways with his fist. Atlas weaved left then slashed downwards.

His blade scraped against the floor as Draal jumped to avoid his blow. Atlas arm shook at the vibrations that went up his arm from the impact. Stupid body.

The troll grinned, smashing his fist into his other open hand. "Is that all you got, Trollhunter?"

Breathing heavily, Atlas scanned the arena then ran towards one of the walls.

"Oh, are you running away now?" Draal began running on four legs, soon catching up with him.

He swung, but Atlas dodged, then, using the sword like a discus, threw it at the troll. Draal's mouth dropped in surprise, but he blocked the attack with his arms, only slightly wincing. Atlas watched Draal's face flash with a look of wonder as he picked up the sword, only for the weapon to vanish into smoke, right back in Atlas' right hand. Draal frowned, then bared his fangs.

Draal ran toward him, quickly gaining momentum, then suddenly pulled into a roll that ricocheted up the wall and to the ceiling.

Oh dear Pale Lady.

Atlas' throat tightened, his legs shaking. He couldn't keep up in this body. He barely moved out of the way before Draal hit the ground, causing an eruption of sand to cloud the area.

Thinking fast, he used the cover of the dispersed sand to bend low to the ground, barely avoiding Draal's fist, using the low visibility to snatch up some of the material in his free hand. It wasn't a second too soon, as suddenly he was flung back by the troll's powerful roar, straight into the wall. He groaned as his back hit the rock, the area Bular damaged earlier flaring up in pain.

Draal punched into the stone a mere inch away from his face. He drew in close, blocking any chance for escape. "I've waited my entire life to inherit the amulet."

Atlas looked up, sneering, "Looks like you'll have to wait awhile then."

He threw the sand into Draal's eyes, who reared back, scratching at his face. Atlas, remembering how the sword previously returned to his hand, threw it again in the other's direction. Draal swung sideways to block it, knocking Atlas along with it, right near to the edge of the platform.

Ah oh.

Draal roared, glaring at Atlas. Before Atlas could get up, the troll rolled again, landing in front of him. Atlas tried to crawl away but Draal grabbed him by the chest. He picked Atlas up and held him over the crevasse below.

"Do you think this is funny? The amulet isn't some child's toy to do with as one wishes." Draal sneered.

Atlas struggled to breath. His vision flashed; suddenly, he was ten again and fighting Bular. The feel of Bular slowly crushing his skull made his lungs constrict. He was going to die. No, no, no. Not now. He blinked several times, pushing the memory back to the back of his mind. His left hand smashed down, over and over, against the troll's flesh, his right focusing energy. Just a bit more.

"How could you be a Trollhunter? You're just a," he snarled the last word, "human."

Atlas growled. "I didn't plan on becoming the Trollhunter, Draal. The amulet chose, and clearly it decided you were the inferior candidate."

He roared again, hand constricting further around his middle. Atlas coughed, then gathered as much spit as possible before hocking the biggest loogie into Draal's open mouth.

Draal froze, so taken back that he stopped yelling. His pupils shrank, the corners of his mouth lowering. "You little…"

Draal brought him closer, only to be stopped the Sword of Daylight, now resting in Atlas' hand. The teen held the blade an inch away from the troll's elbow.

"If you cut my arm off, you'll fall to your death." Draal said. "This is my win."

"Over my dead body," Atlas growled, dragging the pointed end even closer to Draal's arm. "Let's see you be Trollhunter with one arm, asshole."

"Time! Time, please!" Blinky called, hurrying over to the two.

Vendel nodded, quietly walking away.

"Excellent spar, Draal, but I think that's enough for now, ha, ha." Blinky said, hands moving around each other nervously.

Draal squeezed Atlas' chest, so tight the teen almost blacked out from the pain. Then, he dropped the boy onto the floor, spitting on the ground next to him. "You've got guts. But cheap tricks don't win battles. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay down and keep your mouth shut, worm. I suspect I won't have to wait long for the mantel to pass on from you and Atlas."

Shame flooded Atlas' face.

He lost. This was supposed to be his defining moment, and he lost. Ignoring the needle-like stabs of pain in his side, he got up, using the sword like a walking stick.

"Master Jim, are you alright?" Blinky rushed over. "The sand trick was quite impressive. You're very quick on your feet, but," he frowned. " I would discourage you from trying to kill yourself to prove a point."

"Don't. Just…don't, Blinky." Atlas groaned, glaring at Draal's receding back. "He beat me. How can I ever hope to defeat Bular if Draal is able to completely destroy me?"

"You surprised him many a time, Jim. I suspect, with time and more confidence, you will be able to defeat both of them." Blinky said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Atlas shrugged him off, limping over to the rest of the group. "What if I'm not cut out for this, Blinky? Fighting isn't a changeling's specialty, you know."

"You don't know that until you try. You're more than your parentage. Merlin chose you for a reason." Blinky told him.

Well," he started, hand shifting to the amulet in his chest plate, "maybe Merlin chose wrong."


He only just made it to practice, and even then, he struggled to keep up with everyone. By the end of it, all he wanted to do was soak his body in a tub of ice. He hadn't been this sore since the Order's last spring cleaning.

The gym's makeshift stage lights bore down on his back, making him even more uncomfortable than he already was. Atlas rubbed his face. The shine of his armor hit his eye; he blinked rapidly in response, still unused to its supernatural glow.

Sitting cross-legged on the raised platform, he flipped through the script, head already dizzy by the amount of words before him. This acting thing was much harder than is appeared. Not only were there lines to memorize, but he had to know which stage to enter and leave from, where to stand, and a multitude of other little details that made his head spin.

Looking human was easy; it was the being part Atlas had yet to get a handle of yet. This past week was the most he'd ever interacted with the species. People would wave hello to him. Him. And all of them were so talkative, wanting to know about his life in Canada and did he really ride a moose to school?

A feminine cough broke his line of thought.

"Is everything okay? You didn't seem very into the play today. You kept missing your cue."

He looked up from the script, startled. His shoulders tightened, face burning. "H-hey, Claire."

"You're still in your costume?" She asked.

"I, ah, thought it would be better to wear it to get in the mood?"

"Oh, so you're a method actor," she smiled. "That's so cool."

"Ah," he slowly bobbed his head, completely confused but wanting to impress her. "Yes, that's exactly it. I'm a method actor. I'm a very method person. Totally method. You're exactly right."

Oh sweet Pale Lady. He was talking to Claire. Claire. Outside of the play. Here. Now. His pupils dilated. He brushed down his bangs. Did he look okay? Was his fleshbag appearance pleasing enough? Did his breath smell?

"I know we don't know each other very well, but we're going to spending a lot of time together," She said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "If you need some help memorizing your lines—"

"That would be amazing, actually." Atlas said, brightening up. He scratched the back of his neck, hoping his face didn't match the giddy glee erupting within him. "I've never been in a play before. There's so many lines."

"Well, I find writing mine down in numerical order helps. Sometimes I even make a mnemonic device to remember them."

"Mnemonic?"

"It's a memory game. You make a song, a rhyme, or even a small phrase to help you remember something." Claire said.

"And this technique, can it help you recall everything?"

She shrugged, "Pretty much, yeah. I use it for my classes too."

Atlas nodded, writing down her suggestion onto the top of the script. "Oh, ah, sorry for coming in late today. Things at home are hectic right now."

She sat down next to him, crossing her legs. "Oh? The move?"

"Something like that." He brought up his knee to his torso, resting his chin on it. "I haven't told my dad…about the play yet. I lied that I was doing something else. He seemed really excited for me, but I'm afraid, if he finds out the truth, that—"

"That he'll make you quit." Claire finished, resting a hand on his shoulder. "That sucks."

He sighed deeply, "Yeah."

"What about your mom?"

"She's…" He thought back to what Toby said. His mom was alive somewhere in Arcadia. The urge to see her was growing stronger by the day, but so too was the fear of exposing her to his world. What if she saw him in his regular form? Would she reject him? "…She's busy at work. I don't want to bother her yet."

"Why not?"

"My family is…really complicated."

She let out a deep sigh. "You and me both."

Atlas struggled not to stare at her. She was gorgeous. Way too gorgeous. What made it worse was that she appeared rather caring too, which made everything all the more difficult.

The longer he carried on with this act, the larger his punishment would be if he was found out.

Atlas looked down at his hands, his small human hands. Was this attraction because he was in human form?

No, not if last night's dream and embarrassing morning had anything to say about it.

Every time his mind drifted to her face, he felt weird, his mouth fuzzy and his stomach at the precipice of emptying itself all over the floor. It was as if he were walking on clouds whenever she came near. No changeling or human had ever made him feel this way before; it was driving him mad.

Where was Toby when Atlas needed him, damn it? How many times did that human need to get his teeth fixed in one week?

She tapped his shoulder again, concern in her gaze.

Atlas straightened his back, eyes alert. Damn it, he'd been silent for too long! What was she going to think of him now?

"Is everything okay, Jim?"

He gulped, "Uh…"

"Jim, Jim!" Ms. Janeth waved at him. "I'm so glad I caught you before you left. Could you come over here for a moment?"

"Sure, Ms. Janeth." Atlas spoke up, hoping he didn't sound as anxious as he felt.

Saved, Atlas thought, as Claire got up, leaving his side. Or not. She had a contemplative look in her eyes, as if she were trying to get a read on him. Something told him this conversation wasn't over by a long shot.

"Well, I'm going to go meet my friends. I guess I'll see you in class next Monday?" Claire asked, arms tightening around her script.

"Ah, yeah. Hopefully." Atlas said, suddenly remembering his words from the day before. He still had no idea how he was going to pull that one off. Could he keep the Trollhunter armor on long enough for that? It was possible; the amulet appeared to be becoming more and more attuned to him.

He watched as she left, her hips swinging back and forth in a memorizing way.

As Toby liked to say, he had it bad.

Ms. Janeth cleared her throat.

She pointed down at her clipboard, brows bent in confusion. "I noticed your name wasn't on the school roster. Do you know why that is?"

"It isn't? Oh, ah…," he tried to think quickly, "…maybe there's a problem with the school computers? I don't start until Monday. Apparently."

She bobbed her head, "Hmm. I'll talk with IT then. Make sure to go to the principal's office if the problem persists. Usually transfer students don't have this much trouble."

"Great idea, Ms. Janeth," he laughed nervously, "Oh! It's my dad calling. Gotta go!"

Atlas practically ran out of the gym, shutting the door right behind him. Afternoon sunshine met his eyes, making him squint.

He yawned; this was normally when he slept. All this Trollhunter business was really screwing with his sleep schedule.

Moving from beam to beam, he checked left and right, looking down the long line of lockers for any human presence. When he found none, he pulled out his phone.

Atlas speed-dialed the only person he knew who could help him.

"Tobes, we have a problem." Atlas' voice cracked. His fingers bit into the plastic of his screen.

"What's the four-one-one, dude?"

"I don't have any school records." He put his mouth closer to the cell, whispering, "I've never been to school. What are we going to do? They're going to figure out I'm not a student and then they'll find out I'm not fully human and then I'll be back in some secret science lab...What if they try to dissect me? Oh dear Pale Lady, I can't do this."

Atlas could hear the dentist's drill in the background. "Atlas, it's okay. Take a deep breath."

"I'm sorry," he struggled to restrain the nervousness of his voice. "I know I'm acting weird, it's just, I feel completely out of my element here. You're the only one I know who I can talk to about this."

"It's cool, it's cool. Everything is going to be okay." Toby assured him. "I can fake some stuff on my computer. It'll be easy."

"You can?"

"You may not know this, but I'm pretty much photoshop master," Toby bragged. "All we need to do is sneak into the school's admin system and put some docs into the principal's office to make it look believable."

"It's gotta be soon. The humans are already suspicious."

"H-h-hey Jim! What are you still doing here?" A shrill voice asked nervously.

He jumped, ending the call. Ahead, a familiar short human came running toward him. Eli adjusted his glasses, his fingers trembling.

"Oh, hey. Eli, right?" Atlas looked around to see if anyone else was around. "Why were you running?"

Eli laughed nervously. "Oh, it's Steve Palchuck. He's been looking for you all afternoon and then he saw me and…well, good thing I'm a good runner!"

"Why?"

"Remember when you hit him and saved me from the locker?"

"That's exaggerating it a lot, Eli." Atlas answered. "And all I did was push him back a little."

"Well," Eli put his hands together, rubbing them. "he just found out you and Mole-man are the same person and he's looking to kill you."

"Who told him that?"

Eli pulled at his collar, swallowing. "It may have come out during lunch. I wasn't trying to rat you out or anything! Honest! I was just telling someone how you helped me and—"

"Oh," Atlas began, eyes widening as Steve stalked over to them. "Crap."

In his human form Steve looked far bigger and menacing. If Atlas actually feared him, he would probably be quivering in his shoes. As it was, all he felt was a deep-seated annoyance.

"You! Mole-man! Where were you yesterday? I scheduled you in for a butt-whooping."

"I'm sorry?" Atlas said, backing away, his back hitting the locker. Teens began entering the area, gathering near with interested looks on their faces. To his left, he watched Claire and her friend approach.

Steve motioned the clock hand again with his fingers. "You were supposed to meet me at the back of the school for the fight, like, yesterday, jerk face."

"I don't have any interest in fighting you." He waved Steve away. "Now go. Shoo! Go away, fleshbag."

"What did you call me?"

Eli tried to interrupt. "Steve, hey maybe you can just—"

"Let's go, you and me. Right here." Steve sneered at Atlas, "Unless you're scared."

"Ah, yes. Totally scared. Look! I'm running in the opposite direction away from you." Atlas said in a monotone voice, walking towards the door to the school.

"You gonna run away, huh? Chicken!"

"Oh, are you running away now?"

Draal's words echoed through his mind.

Damn it. He stopped walking.

Why was it, wherever he went, someone wanted to push him down for simply existing? First, it was Bular, then Draal, and now this human?

Atlas was getting pretty tired of being shit on lately.

"What did you say?" Atlas turned around, flexing his fingers. He cracked his neck from side to side.

Steve brought his arms together, imitating a bird. "You going back to mama bird, baby chick? Gonna go whine you couldn't fight big bad Steve over here?"

Atlas looked the boy up and down. There was something in his eyes that didn't settle well with Atlas, the kind of look a hurt animal had when put in a corner. "Listen, whatever shit you have going in your life, human, you shouldn't take it out on me, or Eli, or anyone else. It's pathetic. You're pathetic. Go find a psychologist or something."

Steve's face turned red. "What'd you call me?" He stalked closer to Atlas.

"I called you pathetic." Atlas said.

"And you're dead meat!" Straightaway, Steve made a mad dash for him, fist at the ready. Atlas dodged, watching the other's body language. Unlike Draal or Bular, Steve telegraphed his moves, making it easy for Atlas to keep up.

"Go Jim!" Eli cheered.

Steve growled. "You want a piece of me too, dweb?"

Using the distraction, Atlas used his left foot to trip the other. Steve fell to the ground with a hard thump, producing laughter within the developing crowd.

"What are you assholes laughing at?" Steve yelled. "Shut up! I said shut up!"

"Go home," Atlas said. "You're making an embarrassment of yourself."

"I," Steve picked himself up off the ground, features the personification of rage, "Am. Not. An. Embarrassment!" With that last word, he ran forward, arms swinging.

"Leave him alone, Steve!" Claire said, trying to stand between them. "What did Jim ever do to you, huh?"

"Stay out of this, Claire." Steve pushed her away, eyes still on Atlas.

Atlas watched in slow-motion as she fell, caught in the arms of her friend. His stomach plummeted.

Steve cracked his knuckles. "Now, where was I?"

Ice bled through his veins. Claire was only trying to help. And now look at her. She held the arm Steve pushed, her pained expression bringing forth an anger Atlas had not experienced since Bular threatened to eat Toby.

Lightning fast, Atlas kicked the boy in the stomach. Steve hit the lockers. Before he could react, Atlas grabbed Steve's arm, and, using his hips and shoulders, flipped Steve face first onto the cement walkway. He twisted the arm further, feeling bone crack from the force of it.

Steve spat out a tooth, groaning.

Atlas released the arm and squatted down, mouth inches from Steve's left ear. "If you ever hurt Claire or any other person at this school again, I'm coming for you. You won't know when, you won't know how, but I will end your sorry existence at this school once and for all and feed you to my friends. Is that clear, meatbag?"

The injured boy looked up, blood draining from his face (or that could be from his broken tooth; it was hard to say).

"You…Y-y-your eyes," Steve stuttered. "What the hell are you?"

Atlas grinned. "A monster."