Not all battles are worth fighting, so what do you think is worth fighting for? When I met them, that was the first thing he asked me. I said, redemption…I want to live long enough to atone for my past.—So you’re fighting for time.

EV sits on the building’s ledge, cross-legged with a book in his lap. The pages are falling out from under his thumb as he scans them while biting at his bottom lip. His lip is bleeding but he doesn’t notice. His thoughts are competing for his attention again. His upstairs is messy and he always zones out when he goes in to try to put things in their proper place. He had been thinking about his recurring questions when some strangers approached him and asked him a new one. His focus was always on trying to figure out what had happened to the world and now some visitors had come around, talking about intentions of saving the world. One of the visitors had said something that EV knew he had seen before and he is combing through the book to find what he already knows is there. The pages stop falling and he presses the book flat when he finds what he is looking for. “You’re either part of the solution or you’re part of the problem.”

He closes the book, bringing his palms together. He climbs to his feet, clutching the book at his side. His small frame is cloaked in black clothing with a sleeveless top. He stares out from under a mop of shaggy black hair. Something of a swamp is stretching away from him and he knows he is looking across an airport. Most of the runways are submerged beneath the murky waters and planes raise a wing as if to signal their drowning to some distant lifeguard that isn’t on duty. EV’s knowing that this is an airport is just one of his frustrations. He has a knowledge of these other worldly things and can’t rationalize why he knows of them. To him, something happened to their world and all the previous inhabitants were gone without a trace. While he loved to hate trying to discover his past, now his thoughts keep returning to those visitors and he worries that they left on something of a suicide mission. He had mentioned what he did but he hadn’t expected them to leave right away.

The sun is setting in the distance and he glances back to see the moon already in the sky, behind him. He shudders when he sees the moon and feels it’s time to get back inside. He stands up straighter as a pale green light starts to emit from his bracers–the metallic bands around his wrists. His wrists cross as he pulls the book into an embrace. His black feathered wings unfold, and he steps off the ledge. He glides down from the two story building and begins pumping his wings before reaching the water below. He leans and flies along the length of the building where water rises to overlap part of the windows there. Ahead of him, the building’s face is cracked open and a tree is twisted, lying in the rubble. Beyond the opening, the building leans and eases back down into the water. Is the swamp reaching up and pulling things in or is the world just giving up and letting go, no longer caring to exist in this place? That is something else that EV usually thinks about when he is looking over these things but right now, he is only thinking about getting out from under the open sky.

He turns and passes through the opening in the building. The interior opens into a grand space. The tails and tops of planes peek out like crocodiles lying in wait. This hangar had once been a place that the crocodiles could come in out of the elements but now the elements are in here as well. EV focuses and the light from his bracers grows brighter, pushing back the darkness a little more. He circles within the hangar and flies back towards his previous perch on the roof. There is a door at the end of the hangar and the floor is climbing out of the swamp there. He flares his wings and his feet lower to meet a tile floor as he passes through the doorway.

His wings tuck behind him, his bracers and the book glow brighter in a pulse before the book vanishes. He increases the light further as he walks and shadows move around to hide behind various things. The continuous light isn’t a natural thing, only occurring as a pulse whenever he puts away his weapon or book. The light is an in-between state and keeping it shining takes an increasing amount of concentration, depending on how bright he makes it shine. He could never seem to manage much light when he had to fly or do some other coordinated task. Flying itself is simple and not something he has to think about but when he tries to focus on producing more light, he often drifts in an unintended direction, descends, climbs or his speed changes significantly. He was once traveling some place and became so focused on increasing the light, when his attention returned to his traveling, he realized that he was flying in place and not traveling anywhere at all.

He gets his typical feelings of unease as he walks through the hallway. The passing offices seem to huddle together and gossip once he walks past. He had been through all of the offices in the building, looking for scrapes of history or hints at what might have happened. He had been through all the desks, all the cabinets and drawers, all the places where things were filed and stored. Everything he found in storage was blank. Why store blank documents? Who even does that? It had frustrated him and whenever he stopped thinking about those questions, he would notice his fingers tapping on the table. Finger tapping meant it was time to take a break and breaks usually meant sitting back in the office chair and mindlessly staring at the ceiling while he spun in the chair. Information preservation might have failed but at least the chairs still work.

He shakes his head at the unanswered questions that he has for the passing offices. They are pretentious in their keeping of secrets and he feels like they mock him when his back is to them. They whisper and taunt him for not finding what he is looking for. The very little that he did find, all came from the same place. Of all the blank signs and desk name plates, only one had a name on it and it was in an office where he found his book. There were other scraps of writing and snippets of information in the office but nothing that seemed relevant. The book itself wasn’t helpful in regard to his questions but it was still an important find. It too is just snippets of information but it seems to have a purpose in that it is a collection of those snippets. It is a book of thoughts and ideas of various people that must have existed with the previous owner of the book. The names of Emerson, Hill, Socrates, Ford, Ingram, Carnegie and many others were scrawled beneath the various statements. EV feels connected to the various bits of wisdom, as if the various names were something of mentors. He often goes through the book when he has some decision to make and hopes to find some helpful advice.

EV walks past a counter and into a lobby area. There is a row of windows and a glass door that face out towards the runways. EV walks over to it as the water level overlaps the glass, setting him standing below the water level and looking out across it. The sun is setting beyond that distant horizon and he worries about the safety of those visitors. EV thinks back over their conversation. His name was—Pride, he nods, suddenly remembering the name. The longer we wait, Pride had said, the less we’ll actually be able to save. This has got to happen and it has to happen soon. Are you just going to hold up here while others fight your battles? This is all of our problem—And you’re either part of the problem or you’re part of the solution. As EV watches the last traces of light disappear beyond the horizon, his unease grows as he considers the possibility of Pride and his partner being out now that the sun has set.