Chapter Text
Dema was a city filled with coldness and with all of hope from the people gone. Between the big and gray concrete walls, an equally sad population lived inside, being mind controlled by the Nine Bishops. Inside this city, the Bishops control the people with Vialism, a religion that states that the only way to reach paradise is through self destruction, so they use tricks to keep them depressed and quiet, and to keep them empty enough to possess them and have them to their control. A vessel of the darkness, nothing more than the fear manifested in a body.
But there’s an exception to this state of control, a boy whose mind never got fully controlled by the dark intentions of the Bishops. Even if he spent his teenage years depressed, tormented by fears and insecurities, he still believed there had to be something more outside of those walls, and he wanted to see the outside.
“Why it’s got to be like this?
Is this living free?
I don’t wanna be the one, be the one
to have the sun’s blood on my hands”.
He constantly tried to fight the dark thoughts. The feelings of not being good, the fear of being no one and dying being unknown and unloved. He didn’t want to fall obedient to Nico, the main Bishop, and the main responsible to keep the people of Dema miserable. Any time he would start getting consumed by these thoughts, he would remember his face. A face he was never able to forget. Once, when he was a kid, he crossed eyes with another kid. A pair of blue eyes that looked back at him and made him feel like he could die right there, like he didn’t want to see anything ever again other than those eyes. But he never found the owner of those eyes again.
It did help though, as he grew and his mental health got worse, the only thing that kept him sane all of those years was to remember those eyes, and that face, a boy with tanned skin and blonde hair. He used that memory to make himself a friend in his mind, a way to escape loneliness and to keep living. When he was being controlled by the Bishop's tricks, his mind got flooded in black, and the only image he could see clearly was the image of this friend, but his blue eyes were gone, and he only stared at him with red eyes. Still, the sight of his face was enough to keep him grounded.
Then, it happened. The first, and certainly not last, time he tried to escape. He tried to escape the city and his whole life, but sadly, he could only get so far. He was trapped by Nico and brought back to the city.
“You’re a good child, Atlas, no need to ruin it now”.
Those words came out of Nico’s mouth, his face covered by a white veil and dressed in a red tunic as he dragged Atlas into the city.
“Why won’t you let me go?
Do I threaten all your plans?
I’m insignificant”.
Atlas’ heart felt like pounding out of his chest. He had heard about what happened to those who tried to escape the city, and was scared he was gonna suffer the same fate. But once again, he was an exception.
“I know you’re curious for the outside, but there’s no need to leave. This city can give you everything you’ll ever need”.
He stayed quiet. He knew any word he could muster could be used against him. He could only keep his eyes glued to the floor, avoiding Nico’s eyes, hoping he would have mercy on him and spare his life.
“You’ve made it this far kid, we wouldn’t want to ruin that”.
Still, silence was present in his mouth.
“Go”.
Nico’s words resonated in Atlas’ head. Did he really spare his life? He didn’t wait a single second, and went back to his house, running as if he was being chased. Maybe he was, he was being chased by fear. By doubt. By confusion. Why did Nico let him go? Why didn’t he kill him? Why did the so feared image of this city change his mind about ending his miserable life? Was he expecting something else? Something no one has ever done? Why did he sound so different from any other times he had heard him talk? Why was he doing an exception with him? Why was Atlas an exception?
“Please, tell ‘em
You have no plans for me
I will set my soul on fire
What have I become?”
Sadly, the warning didn’t brush well on Atlas skin. Instead of making him stay, it only made him want to go outside more and more. His evergrowing curiosity was replacing any trace of fear he was left with that day, the day he tried to escape. The dark feelings had gotten worse after that, though, every day he woke up it felt like he had a cold surrounding his chest, making his heart ache and his brain freeze into worse days. He realized Nico wasn’t compassionate towards him, but he made him a trap. He kept him alive in exchange for being a vessel for suffering more. For finding better ways to reach heaven. But against any intention Nico had to burn down the torch of Atlas’ chest, it only fueled the flame even more. His desire to go out and take revenge only kept growing and growing with every day that he suffered. And this led to more times trying to escape.
Every time he tried to escape again, he was brought back to the city by a bishop no longer after he left the city.
The first time, he was captured by Nico.
The second time, he was captured by Sacarver.
The third time, he was captured by Listo.
The fourth time, he was captured by Lisden.
The fifth time, he was captured by Reisdro.
The sixth time, he was captured by Vetomo.
The seventh time, he was captured by Andre.
The eighth time, he was captured by Nills.
With each time Atlas was brought back to the city, his suffering got only worse and worse. His heart had a weight he could not bear, sometimes he would be paralyzed with fear, and he would cry until his vision was blurry and his face hurt from the burning of his tears. But every time, he was being comforted by the gentle and loving hands of this man in his mind. His guts were pleading to somehow find the owner of those hands, to hold them and feel them holding him back. Or at least, to see those blue eyes again.
“I’m not sure if I can see this ever stopping,
Shaking hands with the dark parts of my thoughts, no
You are all that I’ve got, no”
He wondered if the next time he tried to escape would be any different. After all, it was gonna be the ninth time, and the last bishops remained to capture him, judging by the pattern they were following. He wondered what would happen when the bishop captured him. Were they gonna kill him? What were they gonna do with his body when they did?