Late morning, before missile impact.

The bunker under the headquarters.

Ren was having a seizure. Minhyun’s network broke under the sudden stress.

“I’ll try to connect to him,” he said and quickly found the empath’s brain in uproar. “I can still get into his mind. He’s getting jammed. There’s no reason why but his brain is doing a hundred things at once. Have you seen this coming?”

“No,” Junior said.

“Then I think the Shadow can induce epilepsy from afar. I’ll try to reach Ren in there. Maybe I can fight whatever is causing th-”

There was pain but it didn’t register properly. He was falling but he couldn’t tell up from down. It was hard to think.

In a short moment of lucidity, Minhyun realized he was at the verge of having a seizure just like Ren. Was there any way he could help himself?

His mind was fractured, one incoherent sensation chasing the next. Maybe…he could link himself – recombining the pieces of his psyche into a one-person-network.

A dozen half links formed and collapsed into a recursive mess. Minhyun was linked to himself but every part wanted to be on top of the infinitely nested chain.

Coherent thoughts formed. But they were thoughts he had experienced before. His mind held onto the only things it had available – memories.

***

“Mister Johnson is busy,” the secretary said. “But you can leave a message.”

“Thanks,” Aron said sweetly, “I don’t think so.”

Minhyun hadn’t really been able to follow the quick English conversation. He had just stood in the background and admired the hyper-modern lobby.

The whole idea of traveling around the world to intimidate every director of the board personally had sounded like madness, but he had made a promise so they went down the checklist. And he got to see a lot of interesting places like New York, where they were now.

Aron led the trio away from the head desk and they went looking for a bathroom. It was a strange routine but it worked. They found a place where they couldn’t be seen, Baekho dragged them into Twi, they made their way into the boss’s office, popped into reality and let Aron do his thing.

This time it was quite a journey. Director Johnson lived way higher up than any of the others. Maybe New York wasn’t that great a place after all, with all those skyscrapers and what not.

They arrived in front of the boss’s door and popped. After Minhyun confirmed that nobody else was inside, Aron turned the mahogany gate to dust.

“Listen Scumbag,” the American yelled as he walked in on the shocked billionaire. “We‘re from the little organization that stuffs your pockets. You know, the one with the boy you exploited and abused. We have a few terms to dictate.”

Johnson pulled a phone and a gun from his desk. It took one flick of Aron’s wrist to make both items explode in the man’s hand.

“How impolite,” Aron said, shaking his head. “I’m still hoping one of your scumbags will be cooperative without a…demonstration. But if you insist.”

Then he raised his arm and the director lost the ground under his feet.

***

“Why? Would you rather I use somebody else’s furniture?” Aron shouted down from the tower of twisted metal which reached almost to the sanatorium’s ceiling.

“No,” Minhyun shouted back up, “I don’t want you to do this at all. I don’t-“

Unwilling to keep yelling he linked them instead. “I don’t see why you do this at all. You should focus on recovering. Not breaking your bones. You did well in the skyscraper. Why do you need to practice something you already know?”

“Because,” Aron sent, pausing dramatically, “it hurt my that time. Now stand back.”

Minhyun sighed and took a few steps away from the diving tower the American had fashioned from the room’s furnishing.

Aron jumped, or rather fell, with his backside facing the ground. He called every loose piece of scrap to come flying under him. As he was halfway between platform and floor, he had enough trash in reach to transfigure it instantly into fluffy cotton.

He landed safely.

“See, you didn’t hurt your ,” Minhyun said. “Can you stop now?”

The boy in the pile of fluff climbed down with weak limbs. “No. There are so many materials I still need to try. I must to find the optimal shield.”

“Please don’t fall and die. I’m going to bed.”

“Ooh, mattresses. I’ll try those next.”

***

It was a lazy afternoon.

There were things to do but the boys undoubtedly deserved one evening for themselves.

Minhyun’s head was on Aron’s shoulder. The boys watched TV in their bed, cuddling under the covers.

The shallow Korean soap opera was over and the news began. The main topic was still the Kaiju. Well, it was certainly something that allowed the journalists to do what they were best at – rampant, uninformed speculation. With the death toll the creature had it would take a while for interest to die down.

“At least the journos finally accept it’s real,” Aron said and stretched. “I think I’ve seen five different articles on how to fake this thing in Photoshop. It’s going to be the new moon landing.”

Minhyun leaded up and kissed the other boy’s cheek. “Do you think Baekho was right? Should we have stayed and forgone secrecy to help?”

For a while Aron looked straight ahead and said nothing. Eventually he inhaled slowly. “I can’t say. It seemed like we were making the right decision at the time. Depends on how bad the Shadow turns out to be. I just can’t imagine the general public rallying behind us in support.”

“I’ll always support you from behind.”

Aron rolled his eyes. “Wow, very funny.”

Letting his fingers run up Aron’s chest, Minhyun breathed down his boyfriend’s neck. “How about we support each other now?”

“Shush! Movie’s starting.”