Done

"Die, you scum!"

Atticus turned his eyes toward a small boy, no older than eight, charging at him with a wooden sword. His eyes were firm, even as his hands trembled.

"Baby!" his mother shouted, rushing toward him.

But he had already reached Atticus and raised the sword. Just before he swung, he met Atticus' gaze.

And froze.

The sharp splash of liquid hitting the polished floor echoed across the room as the boy peed himself, shaking uncontrollably.

"Baby!"

His mother scooped him up, but Atticus had already vanished, appearing in front of the throne.

He probed the core for any signs of traps. There were none.

'Looks like I just have to touch it.'

He stretched out his hand. The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the core ignited with a blinding surge of light. The women and children shielded their eyes.

A second later, the light faded. And when they looked again, the core was gone.