"The road finally cleared." The congestion has begun moving smoothly, no honks or cussing from angry middle aged drivers. Atlas learnt many new cuss words from a traffic congestion, and he did not regret learning them.

"Look at that bag! It is so gorgeous!" Kristine entered another store, posing in the mirror. It has been the same routine for nearly 3 hours, and Atlas was covered in a mountain of shopping bags, his legs wobbling from exhaustion.

He glanced at Kristine, who was now wearing bright red high heels, adding zest to her white dress. [Is Vanellope a Warrior? How is she doing this? This is physically and mentally excruciating!]

"Atlas, try this out." Kristine handed out a set of suit to Atlas, who was panting on a sofa, his arms sore from carrying bags.

"What for?"

"An auction."

"Wait what? Why do I have to wear a suit? Unless... I'm the one being sold!"

"No! Just go in and change!" Kristine contained her laughter while she pushed him into one of the fitting rooms. But when she was going to leave the room, she slid on a hanger left on the floor by an irresponsible customer, tripping backwards. Atlas also 'toppled' backwards, cushioning her fall. The half opened door slammed shut, as if giving them privacy in this confined room.

Her faced veiled a pinkish hue. "Will you release your hands from my waist?"

"Oh sorry." Atlas moved his hand away reluctantly. [How is it so thin and smooth?]

"Honey, I've got 10 outfits for you to try on."

"Bro, this suit is cool man."

As if someone was playing a prank, the empty fitting area started to flood with customers.

"What am I gonna do now?" Kristine murmured as she got up from Altas the human cushion. "I can't leave now. It'll be so embarrassing..."

"No worries. We'll wait it out. What time is the auction though?"

"About thirty minutes from now..."

Atlas widened his eyes. "And you just told me about that?"

"I didn't really think that through..." Kristine played with her fingers.

"That's all right. With my godlike racing skills, we'll get there in no time. Let's just wait it out."

Customers left and came, showing no signs of number depleting.

"Atlas! 15 minutes have passed. We might be late for an important auction." Kristine spoke worriedly, pressing her ears against the door to listen whether customers were leaving.

"Ok. Why don't I change into this suit first, then we figure out how to get out."

"Fine. Go ahead." Only after saying those words, she realized her mistake. "Please don't change now! I forgot we are..." She froze.

Atlas has removed his shirt, his masculine body presented before her eyes. His deep space black eyes followed hers, and she felt a warm sensation spreading throughout her body. His signature, mischievous smirk hanged from his cheeks as he put on the white collared shirt she prepared, buttoning the shirt from the middle.

"Aren't you gonna look away Vanellope?" Atlas's voice almost stopped her beating heart and she instantly turned around to face the door, tinkering with her fingers to distract herself.

The shuffling sound behind her made her cheeks burn as red as her heels. She heard a chuckle, "I'm ready. Let's go now. There are less people."

"Really?" She wasn't paying much attention. Two warm, strong arms carried her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively for support. Their faces were not too close, but close enough for her to blush once more and examine his fascinating eyes. "Let's go Vanellope."

"Yo what's that?" Several noises occurred all of a sudden as a myopic figure dashed out one of the fitting rooms.

"You could have done that all along?!" Kristine pounded Atlas's chest as he placed her down, her cheeks still rosy.

"You can find payback later on. Let's go to the auction first." Atlas chuckled, rubbing his ruddy cheeks that were steaming hot too.

The night approached and a purple flash of lighting manoeuvred on the highway. Atlas held a white invitation card in his hand, 'Kolt Auction' imprinted on the surface. Apparently Kane had tickets for an auction conducted by one of his good friends. And Kristine left it as a surprise.

The ordinary auction Atlas expected was far more complexed than he imagined. As the moment he entered the luxurious stadium, many keen eyes has targeted onto him from the audience, even one or two presence from the gallery. There are Warriors. A lot of Warriors.

A young woman in black tuxedo lead them to an elevator which brought them up to the gallery, 10 metres off the ground, where the richest or strongest belonged. Their seats were first class, manufactured with the finest leather and fur, soft enough for one to sink into.

Atlas gazed across the gallery, paying extra attention onto the two Warriors who released their presence. This presence wasn't the type of atmosphere one carries naturally. It is an action called Spiritual Projection, a trait of an Axonn.