6.2) Idealism IV ~ I Want to Protect the Stars

Atlas walked up the staircase of the apartment. It was time for him to swap out with Abigail to watch the streets.

The two Everharts had gone home for the weekend, leaving him and Abigail to be in charge of taking care of the apartment. Atlas didn’t mind, but he felt that it was quite awkward to be alone with the woman who had sent him crashing into the ground a few days before. He had stopped being hostile to her, yet he still felt a bit cautious when he was alone in the building with her.

But she certainly kept things interesting. Abigail would sometimes watch the streets from the window or the rooftop then suddenly leap off without warning, only returning after harassing a looter or vandal, telling them off and saying they should still try to be righteous even in these dark times. And they would never be seen in the neighborhood again. He was starting to understand what kind of a presence she had on others.

It must always be quite a scare, encountering a Leviathan in the middle of some empty neighborhood.

Atlas opened the door to the rooftop and was met with a sea of stars. For a second, he forgot what he had gone up the stairs for. It felt that the one benefit of the looming apocalypse was that the stars became brighter and brighter with each passing day. Every visible celestial body was glowing with brilliant light, and the whole universe itself seemed to be slowly becoming unveiled to the human eye.

Eventually, Atlas snapped out of it, then searched for Abigail. He found her sitting on the edge of the rooftop with her legs hanging.

“You shouldn’t sit so close to the edge,” Atlas said quietly, despite knowing how her powers worked.

To his surprise, Abigail turned her head toward him with a spellbound smile on her face. It was as if she had acknowledged his presence yet was still engrossed by the night sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said, pointing toward the sky above.

“I suppose, yes.”

She turned her attention back to the stars. “At times like this, I have a strong urge to want to protect everything.”

Atlas walked up next to her, then crossed his arms over the parapet. He remained silent, assuming that she had much more to say.

She continued her thoughts. “Each of these stars is far, far apart from each other. Yet from our perspective, all these stars are all just part of the same picture. A part of the same world. I think I see our world in that lens, too.”

Her voice softened. “But, you know? It’s impossible to protect them all. The distance between each star is just too great. By the time I’ve run from one star to another, something else has gone wrong. And if I run to that next problem, something else goes wrong behind me. And just like that, it becomes impossible to keep them all safe.”

Atlas asked, “Are you referring to humanity?”

“Maybe. Julian is a star, and Mary is a star. And you too. But…”

She looked up into the sky. “Maybe I mean beyond that, too. This rooftop, that wonderful coffee table we often use, and those squirrels hiding in the trees and the grass. It would be nice if I could protect everything…”

“... But I suppose I can’t be everywhere at once,” she muttered.

She shook her head slowly. “Still, I think it's a wonderful dream. To want to protect everything. Even if it’s impossible, it’s also impossible for me to abandon it.”

She reached her hands out onto the sky, as if trying to place the world in her hands and shelter it.

“To me, the world is a sea of bright and beautiful stars. Maybe I’ve always wanted the world to change for the better, but I also don’t want to abandon any of it. I want to protect all the stars. To try and keep everything shining.”

A silence passed, indicating that she was done.

“Why are you telling me all this? This feels too vulnerable, coming from you.”

“Because… of all the people here, I thought it would be you who would understand what I mean.”

Atlas looked up into the sky in contemplation. Her perspective did feel familiar to him.

“Yeah, I do. I guess,” he eventually said, unable to deny her assumption.

“I knew it,” she said with a hint of mock pride.

Another silence passed, but Atlas didn’t say anything. There was something in her face that implied to him that she had more to say. And he was right.

“You know, Julian calls me 'Ms. Kovacs', but he doesn’t call you 'Mr. Atlas'. I find that strange.”

“Why is that?”

“Because… Really, you’re older than me. You were the one who held up the sky thirty-two years ago, allowing everyone here to be born. No one here should be addressing you so casually…”

“... Honestly, I feel like a little girl again when I’m next to you, the man who gave me his everything without even knowing I existed. Like a secret father who had been protecting me all this time.”

Despite the darkness, Atlas could see that her eyes were a bit glossy. Not to the point of crying, yet there was something there. Glistening.

She laughed weakly. “I’m sorry if that was awkward. I’ll go back down now.” She got off the ledge and walked towards the stairway. But Atlas stopped her, gently grabbing her by her wrist.

“Wait.”

“... What is it?”

His gaze softened, perhaps with a hint of lament and sadness. As if he had a feeling that he would regret not getting to know her better before whatever would happen in the upcoming days.

“I want to know more about you, Abigail. Would you mind staying here and chatting with me for a while here?”

“... Sure,” she said. "Let’s bring some chairs over. And I can bring some hot chocolate over, too. We can talk the night away, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s fine with me. I would…” Atlas put extra care into his next words. “I would love that. Thank you.”

Then Abigail gave him a kind of naive smile that he had never seen before. It was a smile that made it clear to him that Abigail was allowing herself to be naive despite knowing how horrible reality could be.

Right now, she seemed like a little girl who simply wanted to spend more time with her father.

As Abigail headed downstairs, presumably to make the hot chocolate, Atlas looked back up into the sky.

A sea of bright and beautiful stars, huh. I think I get it.

Julian, Mary, and now… you, Abigail.

And I’m sure there are more out there like you guys that I haven’t met.

Even more out there who aren’t like you guys but who still shine beautifully in their own way.

If I could protect everyone, I would be very happy.

I get it, Abigail.