That night, Ozeroth and Whisker made Atticus realize something truly important.
'True strength is what matters.'
He remembered the conversation he had with his mother during his childhood. Back then, he'd wanted to train, but Anastasia being Anastasia wouldn't accept that, instead promising to protect him.
Atticus had won that argument with one fact, the best protection she could possibly give him was his strength.
'I should have thought of this sooner.'
Atticus held back the feeling of regret taking root. Ozeroth and Whisker had left him to his thoughts, and he stared at the night sky with a clenched fist.
An unseen force had declared war on him. According to Whisker, considering the situation, he was currently at its mercy.
'Their strength is the best protection.'
Whisker had asked him a single question earlier:
"If this attack had been directed at you, or let's even say me, Ozeroth, or the furry little guy, what would've happened?"
"…It'll fail."
"Why?"
