5.3) Idealism III ~ Beyond the Real

With moderate struggle, Abigail carried Atlas’s shaking body and gently put him down on the nearby sidewalk. There was no blood being drawn from his shoulder–it seemed that Victor was right. His dagger had worked its magic.

“Breath, sir. Breath. You’ll be okay,” she said reassuringly. “You’re not wounded.”

Atlas closed his eyes, as if he had no more energy to do anything but lie down. So she let him be.

The battle was over–everyone could be at ease now. She felt bad for letting the situation get out of her hands, but they had done it. They had extracted the power of infinity, and the world could now be saved.

Abigail looked over to Victor who remained standing in the middle of the street, staring at the dagger that was now glowing with radiant light.

She smiled, finding the scene cute. Victor looked like a moth that was mesmerized by a lamp. He must have felt powerful, defeating a man who wielded infinite power. She watched as Victor raised his arms high, with the dagger pointing towards his stomach. Without warning or hesitation, he stabbed himself in the stomach–and immediately, his body lit up with blinding light.

… Wait, what?

Without allowing her shock to keep her stunned, Abigail quickly covered Atlas’s body with her own, unsure of what the light signified. And as the light slowly seemed to dim, Abigail peeked out from above her shoulder.

She watched as Victor tossed the dagger away to the other side of the street. He put his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants and looked up to the sky with a blank expression, as if the sky wasn’t even there. As if he saw past it. Or as if it no longer mattered.

She didn’t understand. “Victor? Why did you do that?”

He didn’t respond, simply staring into the sky. But she wasn’t messing around–not when he had done something so suspicious. She stood up and shouted.

“Answer me, Victor!”

And to her surprise, Victor began with a calm and soft tone, reminiscent of his youthful self.

“On that day, we made a promise to spend the rest of our lives trying to force our ideals onto the world. We knew that it was futile, yet we still made the promise, anyways. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve realized how immature that dream was.”

“... Huh?” she said, walking closer. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to bring about a world where no one cries and no one has to die,” Victor whispered. “I’m sure I told you something along those lines. And perhaps even now, I still feel the same way. I’m not an amnesiac–I still remember the feelings that I had when I told you those things. And I acknowledge the dream I had in my youth–those lofty ideals that you continued to carry in my place. But in the end, it’s pointless. It’s impossible to bring about that ideal world.”

He looked at his hands. “Look at the power I hold now in my hands–the power of infinity. But even with this overwhelming power, I cannot rewrite reality. I cannot rewrite human nature. This power allows my body to defy the rules of nature–but I cannot change the rest of the universe to my will. I am a mere irregularity in an otherwise regular world."

He continued. “Humanity is fundamentally flawed from the start. To live is to consume life, even at the cellular level. In that sense, all life is born into sin. To kill and plunder. This is something that cannot be changed without completely replacing the old with the new–the rules of this universe must become fundamentally different from what it is now. But that's impossible. And hence the cycle of suffering perpetuates.”

Abigail shook her head. “But life, even as it is now, is also capable of giving back. Life isn't just suffering,” she said, thinking had finally managed to find some kind of opening in his monologue.

But he continued as if it was expected. “Sure, there can be good times caused by heroic efforts to try and prolong the world's happiness. But in the end, it always comes crashing down. And people suffer, no matter how hard they try to prevent it.”

Victor walked in a circle, spreading his arms as if pointing to the world around them. “All this is exactly the same, don't you think?"

“... What do you mean?” she asked, unsure what he was referring to.

“I'm talking about preventing the end of the world. Let’s say another ‘Atlas’ takes up the sky. He or she holds up the sky for countless years–but never breaks the standstill. The only options are to fight perpetually or to give up, and in an infinite amount of time, this ‘Atlas’ will give up, no matter how strong willed they are. No one can beat time, because no human is constant. No man's beliefs are absolute. And inevitably, the sky will come crashing down and destroy everything. Everyone in that future suffers. In terms of the very end result, there’s little difference between the world ending in two weeks and the world ending in another thousand years. You people are running a race without a finish line–there is no goal that marks your victory. The ideal remains unreached…”

“... But you see, I think this is where I am different. I’ve given up on changing the world to fit my ideals. I’m focused on changing myself according to my own ideals.”

He clenched his fists. “This is the power of infinity–when used at its full potential, it has the power to allow me to transcend my inherent human nature. To erase the human that is Victor Truman and to be reborn as a limitless being. A being that is representative of the very ideals I wished for everyone else, free from death or suffering. A being that is unkillable and impassible.”

“Sounds too good to be true,” she said suspiciously. "It could end up being worse than what we already have."

“You never know until you see for yourself,” he replied. “Let us both recognize that everyone we know who believes being a god is horrifying are none other than other mortals. Listen, Abigail: loneliness, boredom, and suffering will become foreign concepts to me–and no one can say this is bad unless they themselves experience divinity.”

She sighed, unable to refute his logic. In the end–she didn’t know what lay past the regular human experience. To understand what it means to be more than human.

Victor spoke quietly. "You may be right about one thing–maybe the only thing humans could do is do their best, to pursue their envisioned ideals. And perhaps that is what I would also do if I knew for certain that there was nothing that lies beyond my humanity. But I know. I know that I can be more. I can be infinite, everlasting. So I choose to step beyond, instead of allowing this rat race to continue."

He spread his arms, as if bathing himself in the light. “This is the ultimate act of meaning. The ultimate act of hope–hope that there is something greater beyond humanity itself, beyond mortality itself and what is accepted to be true. I am ascending to become something more than human. There is no longer a need to pursue a fleeting ideal, because this is what truly lies at the end of our ideals. This is utopia realized in a single soul. I am the ideal born from the rejection of the real. I am the ideal, realized into a single soul.”

Abigail stepped closer, trying to understand what his intentions were. “Why are you saying all this? Are you trying to convince me that you're right? Because let me be clear–your logic may be correct, but it doesn’t mean that I think you should do this. In the process of ascending your own existence, you are allowing everyone else to die.”

He lowered his arms, shook his head, then took a deep breath, as if he was trying to be as genuine as possible.

“I’m saying all this, because… I wanted you to know that I wanted this, more than anything in the world,” he said softly. “I just wish you understood that.”

… More than... anything?

Her heart sank, hearing such innocent words. He seemed so earnest about what he desired that she began to realize that this was a wish not born of malice or hatred. Victor just wanted to live the way he wished. The world was at stake, but he wasn’t the one pulling the trigger. The universe was simply destined to end one day. It felt unfair that he would have to forfeit the power he now had for the sake of letting everyone else live just a few years longer.

It killed her inside, knowing that she could not give her blessings to him. Despite his innocent desires, she recognized that this was wrong according to her own beliefs. This went against their original wish to try and save everyone.

Then again, everyone who I saved will one day die. But he will be saved from death and suffering… doesn’t that mean that this is the only way that someone could truly be saved?

Abigail wavered, then shook her head. She couldn’t just agree that he was correct and that he should doom everyone alive now to die. And she didn’t want to face Alice again, knowing that her brother had truly abandoned her for the last time. Abigail didn’t want him to leave.

But to her surprise, there was a gnawing feeling in her heart that she didn’t want to stop him. She couldn’t make herself stop him. She didn’t want to try to talk him down.

She wasn’t like the other “heroes”. Her morals were arbitrary and flexible. And…

… She didn’t want to save the world as badly as much as she wanted to see him happy.

Human lives aren’t a matter of numbers. Each life is precious and unique, brimming with infinite possibilities. That's what he once told me. So is it wrong for him to choose his happiness over the welfare of the world, when his own life is worth just as much?

She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but she could not vocalize her approval. Her heart was a mess. She couldn’t agree or deny him of his wish. She could only let him choose for himself.

Abigail’s shoulders slumped as she dropped her sword to the ground, her eyes staring down at the floor. Her heartbeats slowed. Her breathing slowed. It was all over.

“If that's really what you want... then just leave me here to die,” she whispered, unable to agree with his actions yet also unable to prevent him from fulfilling his desires.

A moment of silence passed. A part of her wished that he would stay. A part of her wished that his happiness didn't depend on the sacrifice of the world entire. That he would change his mind and decide that he could find happiness in his mortality, in what he already had.

But as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, she could hear Victor step back. And with a flash of light and energy, Victor Truman had disappeared from her life.

And thus left humanity’s only chance to prevent the destruction of the world.