Tower of Heaven

And so, another 4 years passed.

The boy continued his routine without much change. He stole when he could steal, he ate from his food pile when he couldn't. He drank from his puddle and washed his clothes in the same place.

Even though the boy slowly grew, he didn't change much. After all, his body wasn't receiving the proper nutrition to promote growth.

It could be said that he was lucky for the spiritual energy that permeated the realm, as if it didn't exist, his lifestyle wouldn't have been sustainable.

Even for mortals who never even heard about the concept of cultivation, spiritual energy had its benefits. One of these was the eradication of mortal disease.

And so, even when eating mystery food from a massive trash pile and drinking water contaminated by germs, dirt, and even his own blood, the boy didn't get sick.

Spiritual energy also increased the healing factor of the average mortal, but this couldn't explain the boy's unnatural resilience.

With the time he had spent in the cruelty of his environment doubling, the number of times he was beaten near death naturally increased as well.

He had been stoned, nearly drowned, suffocated, and even stabbed, but his body that looked as if it would snap with a light breeze somehow held on.

His feet were bloody and callused with him never owning any shoes and the rags that covered his small body barely even fit him anymore. His white hair barely retained its original color anymore, being an ink-like mix of black and green.

His body was covered in scars, his chest and back being the most prominent. The ribs that stuck out of his small layer of skin no longer looked like a human rib cage. They were bent at odd angles, being broken too many times to heal back to their original shape.

If the boy was able to speak, perhaps his life would have been slightly easier. Although his vocabulary had increased during this time, he still wasn't able to form many coherent sentences.

This left the boy unable to beg and unable to barter. Without the ability to speak, there weren't many skills he could pick up to help him increase his quality of living.

However, even with his unnatural regeneration rate, there was another factor that remained the most shocking.

It was his tenacity.

The boy was only 10 years old, yet he withstood suffering that would have mentally scarred any other child his age.

Forget scars, their entire personalities would be twisted. It was a miracle that he was sane. He still yearned for love and he still yearned for sight.

Years upon years of suffering and torture didn't break the child's will in the slightest. His emotions hadn't died off and his outlook on life was still as positive as it could be considering his circumstances.

The boy continued his life without purpose. He was naturally intelligent, as could be seen by how he learned to live in such miserable conditions, but he had no outlet to showcase this trait.

Sometimes the boy would ask himself why he lived. He wanted to know the reason for his existence. His perception of himself followed that of those around him, so he considered himself nothing but useless crippled trash.

So why did he live? The boy didn't know. He just kept doing what he did every day. And while today seemed to be the same as every other day, something was different.

"Honey, look at that child!" A woman said. The emotions in her voice were some that he had never heard directed towards himself.

"I know, dear. I know." A man replied.

As the two continued their conversation, their voices slowly drew nearer to the boy's location.

When they finally arrived in front of him, the man spoke once again.

"Hey, kid. Take this."

The boy had no idea what was going on. He had never interacted with an adult who didn't plan to beat him. And so, he obediently put his hand out, grasping the item the man handed him.

Realizing its identity, the boy immediately brought it to his mouth and began eating it wildly. It had been many months since the last time he was able to steal something good.

The man watched the boy eat with a concerned expression on his face. One didn't need to look twice to understand how this child's life had gone so far.

Looking at his wife, he saw the same expression on her face. Yet, they couldn't simply take this boy off the streets.

And so, with one final look at the poor child, the couple left. The boy who had just tasted kindness for the first time in his life wanted them to stay, but he knew he was asking too much.

He understood that this would be their last interaction.

As trash, it was his fate to stay in the alleyway forever.

He only noted this experience as something he would cherish for life, but even as he slept that very night, he did not expect for it to happen a second time.

But he was wrong.

The couple came back the next day and the day after that. They came back every day of the week and brought him food and water.

The first time the boy tasted the water they gave him, he almost fainted from shock. It was cool and refreshing, it tasted like nothing yet contained a taste he could get addicted to. It was nothing like the water he kept in his stash.

"Hey kid," the man said as he watched the boy eat, "what's your name?"

But the boy didn't respond. Rather, he couldn't. He understood what names were at this point in his life and he understood their significance. It was just that he didn't have one.

He was simply a nameless child. A cripple that nobody cared enough about to name. And so, the boy could only shake his head at the question.

The couple had been interacting with this boy for some days now, so the level of attachment they had to him wasn't simple. Realizing what the child's denial meant, the woman was already holding back tears.

Hesitating slightly, the man looked at his wife, conveying something with his eyes. Noticing his intent, the woman nodded vigorously. She had the same thought even many days before.

The man reached down and put his hand on the boy's head. The boy flinched at the sudden sensation, but there was a sense of warmth in that hand that calmed him.

"Kid, why don't you come home with us? You'll have a nice place to sleep, good food every day, and you'll even be able to learn many new things."

The boy's body froze. He needed several seconds to comprehend the words that the man spoke. He recognized many pieces, but what confused him…

Were those things being offered to him?

He didn't question it any longer once he'd understood. He had yet to learn the meaning of wariness.

He immediately nodded his head. Over the past few days, the couple had shown him something he'd never felt before. He wanted to feel more of it, and he wanted to stay with them.

Smiling, the man picked the boy up. His body was similar to that of a 6-year-old still, so such an action was possible.

Feeling the warm embrace of the man, the boy cried. He cried to his heart's content, even slightly whimpering. It was the first time he'd ever made a sound while expressing himself.

"Then, would you like a name as well?" The man asked, eliciting another vigorous nod from the boy.

He was overwhelmed with emotion, and at this point, he was just caught up in the momentum of the conversation. Anything the couple said, the boy would likely agree to.

"Very well."

The man smiled warmly. This boy… He would no longer allow this boy to suffer. Now that they'd met, suffering could remain as nothing more than a memory.

He knew exactly what name he wanted to give this strong child.

"From this day forth, you shall be named Atlas. A name testament to your tenacity, proof that you survived the struggles this life brought upon you."

The boy, no, Atlas smiled.

A sense of identity, a sense of self, and a sense of security.

These were the things he received with his name.