The Atlas Paradox Novels & Stories

She was trying so hard to make me listen to her, but it was nonsense. I smiled bitterly. "You just focus on that until you don't notice anything." My gaze flickered, losing its focus without any object in sight. "You obviously don't know who Atlas is. He is a man who dislikes frivolous and weak things, while I am what he dislikes. So what nonsensical conclusions are you telling me?" Rory only feels what she wants to feel, while I have my own views and considerations. I was sure Atlas wasn't as he said because I saw and knew him.

But Ember looked at them with suspicion. “How do I know any of this is true?” No one had an answer. Leadership passed temporarily to Atlas, the former Ascended defector who had once helped stop the civil war. At one hundred and fifty years old, he remained one of the sharpest minds alive. “This plague is not natural,” Atlas declared. “Someone created it. We find them, and we find the cure.” Investigators traced the earliest outbreaks to the Helix settlement—the isolated faction descended from the extremist Ascended.

Yes, that must be it. She shifted her focus back to what Atlas was saying, “...you and I could do once we join hands together? We would be formidable. No one will ever go against us. I'll stop my minors from attacking your people if you just say yes, and together we could conquer the supernatural world —” “No,” Delaney said, cutting him off. “What?” “I said save your energy! I will never join hands with you.” Atlas's eyes darkened. “Very well. Kill them!”

I'd ignored, after the first ten minutes, the security pass on a lanyard against my collarbone. For thirty-eight minutes I listened. Atlas didn't look at me. He didn't acknowledge me. He ran the meeting in two-sentence increments. He approved one deal, killed another, requested a memo on a third, and tabled a fourth without asking the room what the room thought. The three associates wrote. Bea spoke twice. Atlas listened to her both times and accepted her position both times without amending it. At minute thirty-eight, the senior associate brought up the Brooklyn logistics startup.

CHAPTER 1 HEAVEN I froze, staring hard at the podium. "I’d like to make an announcement: my wife—well, ex-wife now—" My eyes widened in confusion. Atlas had only gone to the stage to receive his award. What was he saying? "...we've decided to go our separate ways. Heaven and I are getting divorced. Thank you." I turned to the stage, my vision blurring as Atlas smiled, stepping down like he hadn’t just shattered my world in front of the entire country. Ex-wife? Did I hear him correctly? Was this a nightmare?

Atlas had been lying on the beach, asleep on the blanket they had laid out. "You're a nice guy, Atlas, but we're both broke, working hard to meet our personal needs. You're just a driver and an errand boy, while I want to become wealthy. I know that, just like you, I'm not ready to commit to love yet. I'll prioritize myself," Heather said as she left Atlas. She left him there, him who is pretending to be asleep, with the empty bottles of alcohol beside him. He heard everything. Crystal clear. If they watched the sunset yesterday, today they were awakened by the bright sunrise. Atlas rose immediately as he felt the gentle caress of the ocean waves kissing his feet. He looked around for Heathe

"Daniel, that's in the past, and I'm just grateful that I have someone to lean on if things get rough. I really do appreciate you." With a resigned sigh, the man raised his glasses and settled them back onto his face. "Then I guess we let that matter simmer for now, and we'll return to it if the need arises later on. I'm curious about how things are going between you two, then, if things aren't going the way I feared. Has he been bearable?" Bearable was an interesting way to put it. Atlas was a whole paradox, sharp and then smooth and then something in between with no warning. He was a mystery. And yet...

But do not blame me, it feels like I am in the middle of a dream that I had never imagined would come true. Atlas held me up and sat down putting me on his laps as his eyes dug directly in to mine. “Why does this seem so unreal to you? Is it because of how weird I am?” He asked me. “What? You’re not weird!” I protested. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. I have never seen him doing that before. “Yes I am!” “No, you’re not.” I insisted. Atlas sighed. “I am weird and you know it. I act like a ghost. No emotions, no expressions, I am weird.” He said.

Harley snaps, as he smacks him on the back of the head. “He was a cunt who got what he deserved,” I mumble, still pissed I didn’t just kill him myself. The entire chain of events that led to this moment is just batshit crazy. You couldn’t make it up if you tried. But what is still just a shock to me is the fact that Atlas of all people convinced these Alphas to band together. He claimed to want change, and had to have been convincing enough to win these males over. I need to lay eyes on the male as soon as possible to get a read on him.

In the confines of Atlas's study, I couldn't help but notice the presence of a photograph depicting my dear mother resting atop the table, confirming Atlas's prior claim. However, a sense of unease crept in as I gazed upon the subsequent photograph. Atlas and his mother were engaged in conversation within the confines of the study. According to Ryder, it was the day before my mother was killed. In the photograph, Atlas donned a jacket of a soft blue hue. However, the memory of selecting his attire for that particular day remained vividly etched in my mind. I selected a beige overcoat for him, which he donned for the duration of the day.