Despite his predilectionto solving crime and generally contributing in a positive way to humanity,Atlas wasnât fond of most people. In fact, being in their presence was a bitdraining and worrisome. It had been half a century since his last episode andhe had no intention of losing control ever again: avoiding people was animportant catalyst in that. Plagued by nightmares that only seemed to get worseupon coming to Fallcrest, Atlas considered himself lucky if he got a couple ofhours of sleep each night.
The hourswhere he couldnât sleep made his living quarters feel as if the walls werebeginning to close in around him. Currently staying at the Radcliffe, Atlas leftthe hotel shortly before dawn with the intention of getting into the officeearly enough to plug through the mountain of backlogged information he stillwanted to get through. It was no big surprise that mysterious deaths anddisappearances were a trademark here, but if he could identify accurate causesof deaths that werenât chalked up to generic âanimal attacksâ then Atlas mightbe able to identify a pattern.
Insteadhowever, Atlas found himself wandering a bit, finding his way to a particularlyscenic body of water as he watched the sun slowly rise over the waters. Hestood at the waterâs edge, looking out into the distance and tried to workthrough the barrage of images his nightmares plagued him with. Violence.Violence. Violence. It was ever-present, and yet here in this moment Atlascould feel a distant tug of tranquility: some light at the end of the tunnel. âItâsbeautiful, isnât it?â Atlas posed, suddenly aware through the sound of fallingfootsteps that someone was lingering close by, perhaps drawn by the same sight he saw now, âthe dawn promises hope for a new day,too often I think I take it for granted.â
Lake wasnât usually an early riser, but for some reason today seemed to be a much different case. Or maybe it wasnât, after all, was it considered rising early if you hadnât fallen asleep at all? Sheâd been out all night, still getting acquainted with the town, and she wasnât ready to return to her very empty apartment just yet.
Sheâd found herself walking for a while, drowning out everything and everyone around her. She hadnât realized where she was walking until the sound of the waves reached her. The lake. Sheâd been avoiding this place since arriving, not wanting to lay eyes upon her namesake, and yet here it was, more beautiful than anything sheâd seen before. It felt wrong. Was this what her mother had thought of when she had named her? This tranquility?
Lakeâs head snapped around when she heard someone speak to her. Sheâd been so focused on the water, she hadnât even realized she wasnât alone. âYes, I suppose it is.â The water felt like it stared into her soul as the sun started rising from it. âThe days will come no matter what, we just have to take hold of them ourselves. What we take for granted is not the new day, but a new day we get to see. We should spend them as we see fit, doing what we want to do.â