The Second Coming of Atlas Prime

Chapter 3

"Don't mind that," Atlas said, waving his hand dismissively as the golden light faded completely. "Just keep what you saw between us. In return, I'll make sure the Finnegans never bother you or your family again."

Sarah and her grandfather exchanged glances, their expressions still frozen in disbelief.

"But that's impossible... you just..." Sarah gestured at her grandfather's completely healed leg.

Atlas placed a finger to his lips. "Some things in this world are better left unexplained. Do we have a deal?"

The old man nodded slowly, still flexing his leg with wonder. "Whatever you are, young man, you saved us. Your secret is safe."

Sarah hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. "Fine. But I still have questions."

"Which will remain unanswered." Atlas helped the old man to his feet. "Now, I need information. The Finnegan house, are they still at the same place, or have they moved? It's been some time since I was last here."

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "They moved to a bigger place right in the heart of the city. That family controls almost everything now, especially Aaron." Her voice turned bitter. "He's the head of the family enterprise and is getting married in two weeks. The whole city's talking about it."

Atlas's eyebrows furrowed, then a small smirk crept across his face. The memory of Aaron and Hannah's betrayal flashed through his mind, their laughter, their kiss, the humiliation.

"Is the bride by any chance someone named Hannah Hargreaves?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes, that's her. How did you know?"

A cold laugh escaped Atlas's throat. "Perfect. I returned at the best possible time." His eyes glinted with something dark and hungry. "What's the address of their new mansion?"

Sarah told him, describing the enormous property that had become the symbol of Finnegan power in the city. Atlas pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

"Here's my number. Put your number in as well. Call me if you're ever in danger again."

She typed it in and returned the phone. "Thank you. For everything."

Atlas pulled his hood back up. "Don't thank me yet. This is just the beginning."

He disappeared down the driveway, leaving Sarah and her grandfather staring after him, wondering what they'd just witnessed.

…

The Finnegan mansion dominated the skyline, it was a telling monument to wealth and power. High walls surrounded the property, with security cameras tracking every movement.

Atlas observed from across the street, his hood now back again, concealing his face. What caught his attention wasn't just the heavy security, but the line of people stretching from the main gates down the block.

He approached a man near the back of the queue. "What's going on here?"

The man glanced at him. "Job applications. With the wedding coming up, they need more servants, guards, caretakers, you name it. High-status guests from around the world will be attending, and the Finnegans want everything perfect."

Atlas nodded, stepping away. A perfect opportunity had just presented itself. He moved to a quiet corner and made a call.

"I need your help," he said when the other end connected. "I need a new identity with every necessary proof. I'll send the details soon."

He ended the call and turned back toward the mansion, a smile spreading across his face. "I'm coming, my lovely family."

…

The next morning, a package arrived at Atlas's hotel room. He'd chosen this place strategically, it was close enough to the mansion to monitor activity, yet unremarkable enough to avoid attention.

He tore open the package. Inside lay a complete identity. Birth certificate, driver's license, work history, references, all documenting the life of "James Reed," a 28-year-old with experience working security for wealthy families.

The second package contained something more impressive: a face mask of astonishing quality. Not the obvious rubber masks from costume shops, but a thin, flexible material that adhered to skin like a second layer. The face it created was handsome with sharp features and dark, sleek hair.

Atlas applied it carefully, watching his transformation in the mirror. He practised different voices until he found one that suited his new appearance, which was slightly deeper than his natural tone, with a hint of a coastal accent.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Finnegan," he practised, adjusting his posture to match his new persona. "I have extensive experience in private security."

He examined himself from every angle. The transformation was complete, no trace of Atlas Prime remained visible. In his place stood James Reed, an unremarkable man with a forgettable face and impeccable credentials.

Atlas gathered his paperwork and headed out. Despite a full day having passed, the line of hopeful employees still stretched around the block. He took his place in the queue, watching as people entered the gates, some returning with defeated expressions, others never emerging at all.

His fingers closed around the falsified resume in his pocket.

Years of planning, of suffering, of transformation was all leading to this moment. Soon he would walk through those gates, right into the heart of the Finnegan empire.

Soon he would be among them again, but this time, they wouldn't know until it was too late.