So it is done

...your life

Jonathan glanced at the bowing agent as he left the room, and then made his way, tapping his cane gently, to the window, which offered a beautiful view of the streets of Atlas.

A light snowfall was slowly covering the streets in snow, by tomorrow, the streets would be covered knee-deep. But tonight, the wind had ceased tormenting the streets of Atlas, allowing the occasional passerby to move quietly between houses – if that was what they needed in these late hours. The street of Atlas was conspicuously silent, absent from all night-life. A stark difference to the time he had stayed in the city in the past.

Night was a time of rest and sleep – Atlas may have continued the bustle of life at night, but the number of casual passersby had dropped significantly, compared to even the evening.

Especially so now, with the curfew.

In the past, when Jonathan had first found himself in this world, he had found the streets more lively. Holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand and idly wandering the rooftops of Atlas, he could see the occasional person running about – vagrants, drunks, lovers, night workers and criminals, a variety of people from all walks of life.

But now the streets of Atlas were empty.

The only people striding along the pavement, slowly covered with snow, immediately melting and turning into mud easily staining white boots and uniforms, were the silent robots of Atlas' army and the rare officers dressed in white uniforms. All of them carrying shoulder straps on their shoulders, and the frown of a tired grin on their face, worn out by long patrols and eternal paranoia of soldiers.

A Civil war... The only war in which there are no 'civilians'.

In a civil war, there were no outsiders or innocent bystanders, or at least as far as people can tell, innocent bystanders. Every drunkard trying to warm himself by the fire could turn out to be a secret member of the resistance, preparing to take his shot at a passing soldier. Every mother and child going about her business could be carrying a bomb wrapped in rags, just well concealed under a layer of clothes, and every house could become, at any moment, a fortified position for enemies, snipers, and explosives.

And this was all my fault.

It all sounded so easy and simple in the abstract.

We have the evil Atlas suppressing the suffering workers of Mantle, and we have Mantle's champion of justice, Robyn Hill, who has united hundreds of thousands of people with her noble aspirations and personal charisma. Her incredible vision of a new, more beautiful world than anything people could have thought of before rallied her people on. After all, who wouldn't want a beautiful country of equal people, generous stewards, valiant kings and contented workers?

A country united together under the single banner of 'Liberty. Equality. Fraternity'.

And there was no doubt in Jonathan's mind that Robyn could do it... But perhaps he should have known that a movement, adopting the French's revolutionary army's motto, wouldn't end without bloodshed.

Jonathan believed that Robyn's vision, perhaps, not all of it, and definitely not immediately, and not in the way she had hoped, but it would work. Jonathan quite believed that by using the people's newfound spirits, Mantle's resources and factories, and Glenn's support, Robyn could accomplish a lot.

It was likely that she would indeed have been able to come close to realizing the ideal 'good state'. She would certainly make some mistakes, her ideals going astray, and be forced to deal with the consequences of her earlier decisions. Some of which, she could imagine, and some of which, would have been unexpected nose-jabs to her from reality. But she would surely have made life better.