Scene 10

After a long-winded explanation from Atlas, the chamber lay in a dim half-light, illuminated only by shifting slides and the projected images of the candidates. The council members did nothing but watch.

“And that’s all.”

Silence settled over the room.

A single cough broke it.

“So…” said Northwest at last. “You’re asking us to place our trust in a band of former criminals.”

Atlas scratched the back of his head. “I suppose—though when you put it like that…”

“I don’t see another way to put it, Atlas.”

“Damn,” Northeast muttered. “He’s not wrong.”

Atlas clapped once, and the projection on the wall shifted, revealing a series of statistics tied to the six selected individuals.

“This is their rate of contribution,” he said.

The tension in the room eased. The expressions around the table began to change.

“And… he’s right as well,” Northeast added. “I suppose they’ve—”

“Done their part? And that’s meant to erase what they’ve done?” Northwest cut in.

“You’re generalizing, NW. Not all of them have done anything wrong,” Southwest interjected.

“Two of them have,” Northwest replied.

“Even so, they’re our best option,” Atlas said firmly. “They’re the most powerful—and, by all appearances, most of them have been redeemed.”

Northwest lowered his head. “The serial killer… redeemed?” He let out a hollow scoff. “Oh, please…”

“Benjamin has already saved more lives than he ever took,” Atlas answered.

Something tightened painfully in Northwest’s chest. “Sh-sh—Andrew. His name is Andrew. There is no Benjamin.”

“The evidence suggests otherwise,” Atlas replied evenly. “But if that’s how you prefer to see it…”

“Look, we can keep Dablos and Evelyn. The rest are a lost cause,” Northwest said. “There are countless galaxies—countless worlds—we can draw power from elsewhere.”

“Forgive me for correcting you,” Atlas said, his gaze fixing sharply on him, “but it seems you’re the one misinformed. There is only one being in the entire universe capable of facing what’s coming. He isn’t ready, he may not even be trustworthy—and to make matters worse, he was born on Earth.”

“When will he be ready?” Northwest asked.

Atlas let out a tired breath. “No one knows. Perhaps… 2018.”

“Then we wait. That would be perfectly timed.”

“That’s not an option. He may assist us, yes—but the prophecy named these six individuals.” Atlas gestured toward the projection. “They are the chosen ones. Not the other boy.”

Northwest fell silent. There was no prying Atlas loose once he had decided.

“Northwest,” Atlas went on, “remember what happened the last time we chose to ignore it.”

A dry laugh forced its way out of Northwest’s throat. “Atlas… no one remembers that but you.”

“Listen to me,” Atlas said, his voice lowering. “These six ingrates may very well be exactly what you think they are—wretched, disposable pieces of filth. But I can make them into something more… into the most powerful beings alive.”

He paused.

“Controlled.”

“They’re not like ordinary people, Atlas,” East said. “What makes you so certain you can strike a favorable deal with them?”

Atlas allowed himself a faint, almost dismissive smile.

“A fair question,” he said. “But they’re not nearly as clever as they think.”

---

The council chamber emptied, one by one, until only Atlas remained—seated, still, and lost in thought.

The council… the very one he had forged centuries ago.

He could feel it now—the doubt, creeping in at the edges. They were beginning to question him.

He would prove them wrong.

Northwest.

He had warned him.

He knew he would be hated for it, if—

Atlas rose from his chair. His breathing weighed on him, heavy as iron, his gaze fixed solely on the exit.

What would happen to Northwest… was not his fault.

He had made his choice.