After a few annoyingly painful minutes, Atticus struggled to get up. He truly hated getting hit by that lightning.
Atticus quickly figured out why he had missed the sound of the second bolt of lightning. It was simple, really.
He had lost concentration because of the noise his body made when he had dodged the first lightning bolt, making him miss the almost imperceptible noise of the lightning.
After figuring this out, Atticus inhaled deeply, immediately focusing on his ears. He entered the earlier state of absolute concentration far more quickly this time than the last time.
As soon as he entered this state, he swiftly darted to the right, evading a bolt of lightning.
Learning from his earlier mistake, this time Atticus maintained his absolute focus, listening intently to every sound. He tuned out all the sounds he made, even the sound of his heartbeat.
And just as swiftly as he moved the first time, he darted to the left, evading another bolt of lightning, then to the left again, and right and left. He kept darting left and right, evading the bolts of lightning Magnus kept sending toward him.
Atticus’s complete concentration was on his ears, listening to any and every sound he picked up coming from the area. As soon as he picked up anything, he would move without any hesitation.
Magnus simply watched Atticus evade the bolts without saying anything, his expression unreadable. His hands were clasped behind his back, with bolts of lightning forming in each second and sent toward Atticus the next. 𝑖𝘳𝑎.𝒸ℴ𝘮
Atticus was already getting used to the feeling of relying on his ears and sound for reaction. Although it wasn’t as good as his vision, he still felt his ears getting better.
Just as Atticus darted to the side to avoid a lightning bolt he had heard, his form suddenly crashed into something hard, hitting the side of his head.
It took a second for Atticus to figure out what just happened—he had crashed into a wall.
But, of course, regardless of how hard and sturdy the walls of the advanced training room were, this small crash was unable to hurt him, an advanced- rank.
But it was enough for Atticus to get distracted and lose focus, missing the usual sound of the bolt of lightning that whizzed through the air.
Suddenly, the lightning bolt struck him square on the back. A violent jerk shot through his frame, causing his body to convulse and vibrate uncontrollably.
With a muttered expletive, “Fuck,” he collapsed to the ground, the intensity of the shock leaving his body twitching and trembling from the residual effects of the lightning.
Every time Atticus got hit by lightning, it usually took about two minutes for him to be able to move easily. He lay down on the floor, intending to use this time as a brief respite. He allowed his thoughts to drift.
Atticus had always been the type of person who notices even the slightest details of things and would immediately be able to tell if something about a situation was odd.
This was how he had always been. Since he had started this training session with Magnus, Atticus had noticed something odd: he was getting hit by lightning. A lot.
Granted, all of this he was going through was for training, but initially, Magnus hadn’t even given him a chance to get used to using his other senses or even to focus on listening to sound!
It was as if Magnus wanted him to get hit by lightning. ‘He’s trying to see if my bloodline would react to the lightning element too,’ Atticus surmised. Given all the information he had, coming to this conclusion wasn’t hard.
Atticus couldn’t say he felt any displeasure from being used as a test subject without his permission—he honestly didn’t mind.
It was completely to his benefit, so why should he throw a fit because he wasn’t informed about it? Although there were certain cases where this mindset shouldn’t be followed, this case wasn’t one of them.
After about two minutes, Atticus stood up; his twitching muscles had also subsided, making him able to move freely.
Then entering his meditative state once more, Atticus started another round of listening and dodging.
After a few hours of hardcore training, Atticus could feel himself becoming more and more adept at listening to imperceptible sounds and reacting fast.
It was already after 11 pm, and Magnus decided to call it a day. Atticus sat down on the training room floor, panting hard and trying to catch his breath.
Out of nowhere, a lightning bolt struck him on the head, sending a jolt through his system and inducing the familiar disorienting sensation.
Atticus shook his head vigorously, hoping to dispel the lingering effects. After a few seconds, with his eyelids closed shut, he cautiously opened his eyes.
His vision was blurry at first, but after a few rapid blinks, it became clearer. Atticus immediately experienced a feeling of profound happiness as he saw he could see again.
He didn’t know why he was feeling this way; it was a little odd because he had already known that Magnus would restore his sight after training. However, he felt so happy, happy that he could see again.
He raised his arms and brought them close to his face. Being able to see the color of his hands brought a smile to his face. ‘I feel sorry for all the blind people out there,’ Atticus thought. He truly couldn’t imagine how people could live without their sight.
But then he suddenly remembered he wasn’t alone in the room. He swiftly turned his gaze towards Magnus, who stood not far away, watching him without saying anything.
Atticus audibly cleared his throat, feeling a pang of embarrassment. He stood up and bowed to Magnus, “Thank you for the training, grandfather.”
Magnus acknowledged with a nod, “Meet me here in this training room every night by 8. Don’t be late.” With those words, Magnus vanished.
Atticus released a deep exhale as he saw Magnus had left. He sprawled and laid on the floor, gazing upwards at the ceiling, aloowing his thoughts drift.
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