Bastion of Human Memories

"Do you know anything about what's going on? Have you found out anything?" Finn asked. 

"There are a few theories I've contemplated, yes, but true, verified answers? None such luck," Oliver answered. "My most likely guess is that some higher power in the cosmos has decided to use humanity as its plaything, with Earth as its sandbox." 

With a tap of his cane against the ground, the caretaker of the observatory issued a change in scenery once more. It resumed again to the sight of the bare cosmos, yet with something malevolent in its depths; a grandiose abstraction of power, a being of unbelievable abilities. 

"If that's the case, aren't we doomed? If this is all the will of some godlike entity out there–no matter what we do in the end, it'll just end us?" Damian asked, waving his hand. 

"Perhaps. However, the truth remains we were given power of our own and the ability to grow," the wizened man spoke, raising his cane as he looked towards a second source of light. 

A bright-blue, peeking through the vast darkness in the reaches of space as a ray of hope, like a radiant star lending its light. It was the clash of two abstract figures of universal force, with the perhaps puny, but important rock in the middle of it all–Earth. 

"I believe there are two entities involved. One against humanity, and one that favors it," Oliver claimed. 

"Two?" Finn said, finding it to be a new thought. 

Oliver walked around the planetarium, brushing his hand against the display of sparkling stars as they were moved away by his gesture, "Haven't you noticed it? The world is unbearably cruel one moment, then grants an uncharacteristic kindness the next. Cruel monsters–a magical system; towers housing horrific beasts–an inn that caters your every need." 

"I thought the same before…It did seem odd to me, but I never gave it much thought," Charlotte admitted. 

"Avalon Online," Finn said. 

"What?" Oliver responded, looking over at the young man. 

Finn stood there in front of the scaled-down view of Earth, looking at it, "The monsters in this world, the abilities given to us–it's all reminiscent of Avalon online–a game." 

It seemed to be a new piece of information for the man of gray hair, whose age likely kept him away from such activities in the past. 

"I see," Oliver took in, placing his hand to his chin. "That fits quite well with a theory."

"What theory?" Damian asked. 

A quiet breath left the elder man's lips, "That this is all a game, between the two aforementioned entities. One wagering the monsters, the other humanity. We're all pieces in a game to them–likely this "Avalon Online" was chosen as a mold by them from humanity's current scope. The question then is, what is the win condition?" 

As the man paced around while piecing together his hypothesis, the others watched. Though Oliver was clearly of extended age, he appeared youthful in many ways; the way he walked with a perfect stride, his beardless face and clear, unwrinkled skin. 

"Tell me," Oliver stopped in his tracks, looking at the others. "Does this thought frighten you? Of our lives being played with by such childish gods?" 

"Kind of makes me pissed," Finn answered. 

"Yeah, the thought of all of this being because of something like that–man, I can't stand it," Damian said. 

Charlotte added in, "...I'd want to personally punch those beings responsible." 

The answers given were met by silence for a moment as the man of silver hair stood there for a moment before pointing his cane in their direction. 

"Perfect answers, all of you. I agree wholeheartedly," Oliver admitted. "I love this world. Though humanity has its flaws, many of them, in fact, that doesn't change that I love it all the same. None of those blemishes takes away from its beauty." 

As he spoke of his adoration for mankind and its history, the strange, yet wise man looked up at the observatory of stars with a glistening of tears in his eyes, ever so subtle. 

"All of the achievements of man, from venturing into the cosmos to sparking a simple flame. The friendships and hardships; the love of those bound by oaths and those by parenthood; the precious memories and experiences," Oliver spoke. "What gives anybody the right to wipe it all away?" 

For some reason, when the wizened man spoke, Finn felt himself recalling his years of youth; running through fields without a care, playing in the park with his friends. Even as far back as being a babbling baby, innocent as can be, remembering the kind smile his mother gave him. 

Perhaps insignificant, but treasures memories nonetheless. 

It seemed both Damian and Charlotte experienced such remembrances as well, judging by their expressions wrought with a mixture of longing and sadness, yet a hint of joy at once was. 

"That's why we can't fall. We who are left must fight and persevere, in whatever fashion," Oliver advised. "Who will remember what has been lost once we're all gone? Once not a single human remains, not even a memory shall remain intact." 

"How many of us are gone already?" Finn asked. 

Oliver paused for a moment before answering, "By my estimations, I'd say eighty-percent. Perhaps a generous estimation, though."

That number weighed down on the ears of those that listened. It was nothing they hadn't expected, but to hear it verified by the man of such wisdom set it into reality. 

Damian shook his head, scrunching his nose in disgust at the sheer loss, "--It just feels like we aren't even meant to survive. It's not fair." 

"You're right. It isn't fair in the least. Even so, our purpose now is to resist that shattering unfairness," Oliver instructed them. "I believe the answer lies in the Towers. Through reaching the top, may it be solved–the reason behind mankind's game." 

"The Towers…" Finn repeated.

Wisdom shared by the grayed man was followed up by a show of hospitality as Oliver showed them to a meal. It was an honest surprise to see that somebody had sustained a "base" in the chaotic state of the world. 

In the cafeteria of the science museum, Finn sat there while Damian shoveled granola and dried berries into his mouth. Charlotte ate with what could be mistaken for elegance, though it just seemed she was more reserved, picking at fruit with the plastic fork. 

Finn decided to partake as well, seeing as it was never guaranteed that a non-stale meal would be found, tossing some crunchy granola into his mouth. 

"I have more than enough food stockpiled here for years. Don't be shy to eat what you'd like," Oliver said, sitting across as he watched the guests. 

"So, you've really been protecting this place this whole time? You must be pretty capable," Finn asked while still chewing. 

The remark stirred a small laugh from the elder man, who leaned back in his seat while propping one leg over the other, "It's not as you imagine. I have not been tirelessly slaying monsters as they attempt to invade this place. When it comes to fighting, I'm quite weak and incompetent, really. It's never been my strong suit." 

"Then how? These creatures–they've ransacked everywhere they can reach. Surely this place isn't an exception," Charlotte asked. 

"It's simple, really," Oliver answered. "It never crosses their mind." 

Finn could tell that the older gentleman was avoiding giving any direct answers, brushing off any topic that related to his own abilities. 

"You are welcome to stay here for the night, however–I would ask that you stay no longer than that," Oliver offered to the group. 

"That's fine, but is there any reason why?" Finn asked curiously. 

"I can maintain the safety of this place when it's just me. But, when it comes to multiple guests—it complicates things," Oliver explained. 

The gracious offer was accepted as the group decided to hunker down for the day. After all, it wasn't often that such a protected, neat place was left in the aftermath of the world's end.