Atlas Life

There were not many things that truly mattered to Edgar. He was the type of person that slowly drifted through life. The slightest shift of the wind drove him in that direction. He had no desires or aspirations. Life just happened to him. He was not living it by any means.

His actions, or more primarily, his inactions defined him. He lived a life of little meaning. He lived for no one. And while that may sound enviable to some people, nobody lived for him either. To forget and always be forgotten, is it truly so lavish?

None of this mattered to Edgar anyway. He lived each day like the previous, mindlessly playing games or scrolling infinitely down the rabbit hole of some forum. Surprisingly, Edgar was not always like this. As a kid, both his parents had great aspirations for their little Ed. Sharp as a tack and always inquisitive, his childhood was filled with an ever growing curiosity of the world. A constant desire to learn new things drove him until he got to middle school. Slowly, his world-view shifted. His constant curiosity turned into constant introversion. His quick-wittedness seemed to have disappeared along with his bright eyes. Perhaps it was the constant bullying he received at school. Or maybe it was due to the illness of his grandfather that took care of him. Or the fact that his parents started travelling too much for work and left him mostly alone. Edgar would probably not blame anything or anyone. Barely even remembering the kid that he used to be.

He woke up as usual with dark circles under his eyes, seemingly permanent at the young age of 17. He yawned and looked outside his window, peeking at the weather to see what he'd have to wear for that day. Gloomy.

Shorts and a t-shirt it is then, he thought. Whether it was snowing or raining, he didn't mind. The comfiness of his outfit far outweighed any discomfort the weather may bring him.

He put his clothes on and headed downstairs and prepared himself a light breakfast. His home was as quiet as usual. The only noise that could be heard were the singing of the birds and the light sizzle of his eggs cooking. He made his scrambled eggs on toast and ate it as he looked at his phone.

This was his routine. The way he liked doing things. No one to bother him in the morning. No one to report to. Although he hated his parents, at least they left him alone. And for that, he was grateful. He'd grown past the resent of his younger years and stopped caring about their antics. As soon as he'd realise that his parents were like any other adult, suddenly his expectations of them as parents ceased. He didn't care that they were never there for him. He had grown accustomed to being alone. He didn't mind that they showed more affection to his successful older sister. He had grown accustomed to being overlooked.

With a piece of toast in his mouth, he read the news on the new VRMMORPG coming out in a week. Apparently it was going to revolutionize gaming. Or at least that's what Atlas Company is paying people to say. Whether or not it was going to live up to the gamer's expectations, that's a whole other issue. Gamers are the hardest people in the world to satisfy anyway. At this point, game companies should know better than to advertise their game as the "next big thing". Makes you look like a fool when a ten page list full of bugs and reports hits your desk the next day.

Atlas Life.

That was the game's name. They're attempting to recreate life inside a game with their advancements in AI.

Eh, not for me, thought Edgar as he opened up an idle game.

This is better, he said to himself as he thought about what to spend the money he had farmed overnight.

That was how Edgar was able to spend his days without much emotional pain all these years. He was excellent at distracting himself in all types of ways. Films, shows, books, games, he'd watched, read, played them all. Barely anything kept his attention for long, but if it did, he would devour it without stopping. He could forego sleep if it meant reading one more page of the book he was fascinated by.

Sometimes he would even forego school, not that it meant much to anyone. His parents didn't care. His school sometimes cared, but they stopped putting up much of a resistance when his grades didn't slip and his parents didn't seem to want to discipline him.

It was perfect for him, who as an introvert, would prefer to be in his own space for extended periods of time.

Edgar finished his breakfast and lazily found his way to school. There, no one paid any attention to him. Whether it was his presence or his absence, no one around him cared. He slowly put his head down and smiled at himself mockingly

At times, when he couldn't find a way to distract himself in time, waves of grief battered against his defenses. With his hands clasped tight, Edgar stood in the courtyard of his school with his head down as the stream of people walked past him.

I don't care… I don't care… I don't care… he kept repeating to himself in his mind. Yet each time someone bumped into him and apologised for not seeing him, he felt his heart tighten.

He felt like a boat anchored at storm, as the waves of people attempted to sink his ever flimsy ship.

--

Three weeks prior

"Hey kiddo, don't worry about me. You know your old pops. I may get kicked around a lot, but I always get back up"

Edgar stared at his bedridden grandfather as he spoke to him. His long hair used to have traces of his youth, fighting that long war between black and white. That's exactly what it was. A battlefield. Now, however, it seems that old pops has lost. His hair has lost its usual brilliance and his skin was becoming more translucent. As if now, near the end, man is but mere blood and bones. A system near collapse.

Edgar sighed as he heard his grandfather's hoarse voice try and encourage him. He took his hand, feeling his fragility and coldness. It was now that he knew.

Before this moment, it had only been yet another obstacle they would overcome together, just like the previous times. But as soon as Edgar's hands touched his, he felt his grandfather's last flickers of light.

Surprisingly, Edgar remained calm and answered as he smiled, "You're right pops. I'll see you on the other side"

Arthur attempted his best smile that he could muster in an attempt to show strength to his grandson. It worked. Even though these were his last moments, both of them felt a sense of peace.

They had both known this day would come sooner or later, and each of them had prepared long ago. In a careful motion, Edgar leaned over to hug his grandfather one last time. As he carefully reached over and held his grandfather in his arms, he heard a light whisper in his ears,

"Live."