Imogen

“You don’t have to keep going.” A small voice said from behind him.

Atlas looked back at Imogen. “Do what?”

She gestured at the tents, the people around them. “All this.”

“Of course I do.”

“You can stop.” Her hands were balled into fists.

“Gen, I have to do this."

“No you don’t!” She shouted.

Atlas shook his head, shocked. It was the first time she’d ever raised her voice with him. “Don’t you remember what the Empire has done to us? To our parents?”

“Of course.” She echoed. “But you’ve done enough. We’ve had our due. We don’t need to keep fighting anymore.”

“If we stop now, everything will go back to how it was. The Empire will go back to how it was. Nothing will have changed.”

“And if we don’t stop now, we’ll be no different from they are.” Imogen stepped closer, her grey eyes beginning to glisten with tears. The wind flicked her hair around her head. “Can’t you see what’s happening? What you’re becoming?”

“What would you have me do?” Atlas stepped towards her, his initial shock turning to anger. “The Empire needs to be overthrown. If not for us, then for everyone else, the generations to come.”

“Then let them fight this war.” She threw her hand out at the encampment. “Not you. You’ve done your part.”

Atlas looked at her incredulously. “Are you giving up?”

“No!” Imogen ran her hands through her hair. A tear escaped her left eye. “I’m not giving up, I’m letting go.”

Atlas looked at her for a long moment. Then, quietly, “What would you have me do?”

“We’ll sneak out while they sleep. We can take a boat, sail off in the night. We can come clean, start over.” She stepped closer. “Atlas, we have the rest of our lives. I don’t want to see you die for this cause.”

The wind died. To Atlas, the whole world ceased to move. The noise of the camp around them faded out of existence; all he could hear was Imogen’s breathing. Her heart thudded loudly in the silence, threatening to break free of her chest.

“I’m sorry, Gen.” He said finally. “I started this. I have to see it through to the end.”

The tear began to make its way down her face. She turned and began to walk away. “Then you’ll have to go on without me.”

“Imogen, stop!” Atlas grabbed her hand.

“No!” She yanked her hand away and stepped back. Her face was filled with fury, but none of it touched the sorrow in her beautiful grey eyes. “When I first met you, you knew what you were trying to do. You were trying to help people. To stop the suffering the Empire wrought.”

“I’m still trying to—”

“No, you’re not.” Imogen shook, her jaw clenched almost as tightly as her fists. “This isn’t about helping people anymore. You won’t stop until the Empire and everyone in it is either dead or in chains. You’ve long since stopped giving them a chance to redeem themselves.”

“They have killed our friends! Our family!”

“And we have killed theirs!”

They stared at each other, three feet apart and miles away. The camp around them truly had gone silent now, anyone nearby either politely leaving or listening intently.

“Why can’t you just let this go?” Imogen asked. “Why can’t you trust anyone else to do it?”

Atlas shook his head. “I just can’t. I need to finish this.”

Imogen stood for a long time, tremoring faintly. “Fine,” she said finally, running her hand through her hair. “Fine. But I won’t follow. I can’t watch you, what you’re becoming. I wish you luck, Atlas. And I hope you realise before it’s too late.”

“Gen, please…” Atlas held out his hand, but the grey-eyed girl just turned and walked away, disappearing in the maze of tents. He felt a drop of rain land on his outstretched hand, then another on his shoulder. The rain gradually increased, pouring from the grey sky, until Atlas felt he might drown under its weight.


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