The Pantheon

Chapter 17: Lincoln's Decision

The sun was setting over Los Angeles, casting long shadows over the city. It was the kind of evening that made people pause, made them think. But the city was far from peaceful. After the previous chaos, there was still a palpable sense of unease in the streets. The city was divided. Evan knew it wasn't just the factions clashing—it was deeper, more ingrained. The trust between people, between leaders and citizens, had shattered. And that was the biggest challenge of all.

Evan called upon the one person who could help navigate the murky waters of division: Abraham Lincoln.

The control room hummed with the familiar energy as Lincoln's form materialized in front of Evan. The man appeared almost out of place in the sterile, high-tech environment. His tall figure, wearing a plain suit and a somber expression, looked out of place next to the sleek monitors and flickering lights. Yet, his presence brought an immediate calm. There was something about Lincoln—his gravitas, his manner—that made people listen.

"Mr. Lincoln," Evan said, standing up and extending a hand. "Thank you for coming."

Lincoln shook his hand with a firm, yet unassuming grip. "I hear you have a problem, Evan. What is it that divides this city so?"

Evan sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It's not just one thing. There are factions, old power struggles, distrust. The people are beginning to riot again. But there's more. The distrust runs so deep that people are choosing sides. And each side believes it's the only one that can save the city. I need help bringing them together."

Lincoln studied him for a moment. "Trust is a fragile thing, Evan. Once broken, it's difficult to repair. But in times like these, leadership is what can mend it. Leadership that listens, that acts, and above all, that unites. If I may, tell me more about the situation."

Evan hesitated for a moment before responding. "The two main factions in the city are led by Jacob Porter, a former leader of the worker's movement, and the Architects, a group of corporate elites. They're both holding the people hostage in different ways. Porter's people are angry, frustrated with inequality, and they've taken to aggressive tactics—blocking roads, staging sit-ins, and causing general mayhem. On the other side, the Architects are manipulating the system, bribing officials, and silencing anyone who dares to oppose them. The city is stuck in a state of paralysis."

Lincoln's eyes narrowed. "So, you have two sides—one driven by anger, the other by power. Both, at their core, feel justified in their actions."

"Exactly," Evan said. "And neither will back down."

"Then we have to make them back down," Lincoln replied, his tone calm but resolute. "Not through force, but through reason. We'll have to take their concerns seriously, show them the consequences of their actions, and lead them to a solution. We can start by calling them to the table."

The next morning, Evan, with Lincoln by his side, arranged a meeting with both factions. The city's two major leaders—Jacob Porter and an Architect representative named Victor Lang—agreed to sit down. The meeting was set to take place in a neutral zone, a park that had once been a symbol of unity but had fallen into disrepair as the city descended into chaos.

As Lincoln and Evan entered the room, they were met with cold stares from both Porter and Lang. The tension was palpable, like a powder keg ready to explode.

Porter, a burly man in his mid-forties with an unkempt beard, crossed his arms and glared at Lang. "You've got a lot of nerve showing up here, Lang. Your people have been pulling the strings behind the scenes for too long."

Lang, dressed in a sharp suit, stood with his back straight, his eyes calculating. "We are trying to save this city from chaos, Porter. You and your people are only making things worse."

Evan stood between them, trying to hold the fragile peace together. "Enough. We're not here to throw insults. We're here to find a way forward."

Lincoln, standing just behind Evan, cleared his throat. His voice was low, but it carried authority. "Gentlemen, let us be clear. You both have valid points. Mr. Porter, you have the grievances of the people—grievances that, if ignored, will only continue to fester. And Mr. Lang, your position is that the system must be preserved in order to prevent total collapse. But I ask you this: What is the cost of continuing down this path of division? How much longer will you hold the people hostage, Mr. Porter? And how long do you think you can maintain control, Mr. Lang, if the people lose all faith in the system?"

Both men were silent. Lincoln's words had cut through their defenses, leaving them both at a loss.

Lincoln continued. "The only way forward is through compromise. If you want to save this city, you must find common ground. Mr. Porter, the people need to be heard, but violence will only breed more violence. Mr. Lang, your position of power can no longer ignore the needs of the common folk. You must show that you are willing to listen."

Porter clenched his fists. "And how do you propose we do that? After all that's happened?"

Lincoln looked at him with calm resolve. "Start small. Meet with your people. Don't just speak to them—listen. Hear their pain, their fears. And for you, Mr. Lang, I suggest you make a public statement. A statement showing that the elite care about the welfare of the people."

Lang scoffed. "A statement? That's it?"

"A statement," Lincoln said evenly, "but followed by action. Words are powerful, yes, but it is your deeds that will bring the people back. If you want their trust, you must earn it."

The next several days were tense, but Lincoln's strategy began to unfold. Porter agreed to meet with his followers, addressing their concerns openly and without hostility. He spoke of the need for reform, of the necessity for cooperation, and how change would require sacrifice from all sides. His speech wasn't perfect, but it was heartfelt. And for the first time, it felt like a genuine dialogue.

Meanwhile, Lang, despite his initial reluctance, made a public statement acknowledging the deep disparities in the city and promised to work toward creating a more equitable system. His message, while met with skepticism, was a step toward rebuilding trust.

The meetings didn't solve everything—they were just the first steps. But for the first time in a long while, the city was starting to move toward dialogue instead of violence.

As the days passed, Lincoln watched quietly from the background. His work was done, but his influence was undeniable. He had united the warring factions—not through force, but through reason and compromise. The seeds of trust had been planted, and though they would take time to grow, they had a chance.

As Lincoln prepared to leave, Evan approached him. "Thank you, Mr. Lincoln. I don't know how you did it, but I'm starting to believe that maybe this can work."

Lincoln smiled, a tired but satisfied smile. "The work is never done, Evan. But you've started down the right path. Just remember, leadership isn't about ruling over people—it's about showing them they can lead themselves. And that is how trust is built."

With those final words, Lincoln faded into the past, leaving behind a city that, for the first time in years, had hope.