Atlas: Back to the Present – Time Travel + Post Apoc + OP MC (STUBS NOV. 1)

CHAPTER 17: Settling Back In



Atlas knew he needed something to help him feel like he was truly back home. The chaos of the past few weeks—setting up supplies, diving into a new job, training recruits, and just trying to get his head straight—had left him feeling unsettled. Some of his decisions like selling his apartment might not have been the smartest choice. But the constant stress of the two year timeline had gotten into him. He knew he needed to mentally regroup and relax. Although he was physically back in familiar surroundings, there was still a disconnect, like he hadn’t quite landed yet. He knew just the thing that might help.

Flipping through his phone, a relic from his past, he scrolled through old messages. The phone was outdated, sure, but it still held memories of a simpler time. He found the contacts of a few women he’d casually dated before everything went sideways. Nothing serious, just some fun with friends who knew the score. He decided to shoot off a few messages to see who might be up for a night out.

Jennifer, who had just returned home from her job as a bank exec, was surprised to see a message from Atlas pop up on her screen.

*How long has it been?* she wondered. *Maybe a month?* Their relationship had always been on-and-off, an easygoing, no-strings-attached situation. They both liked it that way.

"Hey, Atlas. What’s up?" she typed back quickly.

"I’ve been pretty busy lately," Atlas replied.

Jennifer raised an eyebrow, smirking to herself.

*Busy?* He’d always been a bit mysterious about what he did, but she wasn’t the type to pry. "Well, you know me, always nice to chat with friends," she typed, with a knowing smile. In her mind, she added silently, *with benefits*.

Dating wasn’t in the cards for her—she was way too focused on her career, and Atlas was the last person she’d expect to ask for commitment.

They agreed to meet for dinner at a sushi place they both liked. It was a casual choice, something that didn’t scream *date* but was comfortable enough for them to enjoy themselves.

---

The restaurant had a warm, inviting atmosphere, with the faint scent of fresh fish and the chatter of other diners filling the air. They were seated at a booth near the back, the dim lighting providing just enough privacy.

Jennifer started with a miso soup while Atlas ordered sake to share. The conversation was easy, flowing from their shared love of food to lighter topics. The sushi arrived, beautifully presented on wooden platters. They dug into the assortment—salmon sashimi, tuna rolls, and a specialty dragon roll that was almost too pretty to eat.

"You’ve got to try this one," Atlas said, pointing to a spicy tuna roll topped with avocado. Jennifer laughed, taking the piece he offered.

"You always know the best things on the menu," she replied, savoring the taste.

As the night went on, they both relaxed. The weight of the world seemed to lift, at least for a little while. They laughed, reminisced about old times, and by the time the meal was over, there was an unspoken understanding that they’d continue the night back at Jennifer’s place.

---

The next morning, Atlas got out of bed at his room in the gym; he had left Jennifer’s place without much ceremony late in the night. now felt more mentally focused—the lack of nookie had been resolved. Back in work mode, and stress free, he walked into the arena. Alicia was already there, clipboard in hand, her expression serious.

"You ready to make some cuts?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Yep," Atlas replied. "Let’s see how they do on day three. Let’s see if there are any surprises. And more importantly, how they take getting cut."

Alicia nodded. "How are we going to do this?"

Atlas thought for a moment. "No need to sugarcoat it, but it’s better to do it in private. We don’t need to make a scene."

When the recruits arrived for their final day of the first round of training, they could sense the tension in the air. They spent their last day giving it their all. Mannequin heads flew off at a rapid pace.

*That’s a lot of duct tape we’re going to need to get these ladies back in shape,* Ray thought as he looked at the damage.

Atlas gathered all the recruits together at the end of the session.

He addressed them, his gaze serious. “I want to talk about something important—courage. It’s easy to get caught up in the physical part of training—the running, the fighting, the drills—but what we’re really testing here is your heart. Courage isn’t just about charging into battle or standing up to an opponent. It’s about the desire to fight when everything in you is screaming to give up. It’s about pushing past fear, exhaustion, and doubt because something inside you says you can’t quit.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “This isn’t just about making it to the next round. It’s about proving to yourself that you have what it takes, no matter how hard it gets. You don’t have to be the strongest or the fastest. But you damn well better be the one who refuses to back down.”

Atlas knew that while Alicia thought this was all about preparing them for the Society of Creative Battle gym, he had something far bigger in mind. He was building a team not just to compete but to survive the portals. And for that, courage and the desire to fight were everything.

"I hope you all have had a good time," he began, scanning their faces. Most of them nodded, though the nervousness was palpable. Everyone knew that cuts were coming, but no one knew who would be let go.

"Well, we’ve got three people we need to cut. You’ve all worked hard, but not everyone can move forward," Atlas said, his tone firm but not unkind. "Here’s how we’re going to do this—head to the changing rooms. If I call you, it means you’re cut. If you don’t get a call, congratulations, you’re moving on to day four."

Isabella, usually so confident, found herself hoping she *wouldn’t* get called by a guy for the first time in her life.

---

Atlas and Alicia retreated to the office, where they reviewed the results one last time. Then, Atlas made the calls.

The first call went to the mother of two. She had done well, but not quite well enough. Despite the rejection, she took it in stride. "Thanks for the opportunity," she said, her voice steady. "I’ll keep training at the gym. Maybe next time."

The second call was to a young guy who had shown promise but had a problem with punctuality and effort. Atlas had seen potential in him, but his lack of dedication was a dealbreaker. The kid was disappointed, but he accepted it, vowing to work harder in the future.

The final call went to Archie, the man who had tried to use two shields. He was just too slow, too clumsy, and while Atlas respected his effort, he just wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. Even if he was secretly recruiting for a main tank, Atlas didn’t want a guy this slow.

Unlike the others, Archie didn’t take the news well.

"Fuck you, dude," Archie spat, his voice laced with anger. "Your training is garbage anyway. Sword and Iron—they don’t have any of these crazy mannequins or racquetballs. That’s real training. Let me tell you something: I’m leaving this gym, and I’m heading to Sword and Iron. I’ll be giving their tryouts a go, and I can guarantee you, I’ll make that team. I guess I’ll see you next season, Coach."

Atlas didn’t flinch as Archie stormed out, leaving behind a tense silence. He knew Archie’s type—someone who would rather blame others than face his own shortcomings. And a verbal hissy fit was way better than bringing a hot-headed slowpoke to the wasteland.

Once the cuts were made, Atlas didn’t head home. Instead, he found himself at John’s door, knocking quietly. When John answered, he looked a bit surprised but quickly composed himself. He was happy to see his friend, but there was a flicker of worry in his eyes—was this visit about the cuts?

But what Atlas said next was something John never expected.


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