Here’s how it begins:

Chanyeol screams.

He doesn’t, usually. Chanyeol booms, or hollers, or chortles. He never screams, unless he’s trying to make fun of someone else’s screaming. Everything about him is big and deep, his voice vibrating in everyone’s chests the way earthquakes do. He’s always gleeful, always smiling.

Not today.

Chanyeol screams, and it echoes, carrying across the halls and into rooms, making Baekhyun jump. It sounds pained, tortured, panicked in every sense of the word, and Baekhyun drops everything and runs to him, because Chanyeol has never sounded like that before, like someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out, leaving his rib cage empty and his body bloodless. It puts an undeniable sense of fear in Baekhyun’s heart, as if someone threw all the levers in his head home and now his light was pulsing, ebbing in a deep red hue, screaming DANGER, DANGER, GET OUT, SAVE YOURSELF.

What was that? Yixing’s alarmed voice sprouts in Baekhyun’s mind as he tears through the halls of their living quarters on his way to the fire bender’s cubicle. It sounded like-

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun gasps when he reaches his friend’s room. The firebender is sitting on his bed, huddled into a ball next to the wall, eyes torn wide open with a wild expression on his face and his chest rising and falling rapidly, breath wheezing as if he just ran ten miles with no breaks. He looks- for lack of better words- haunted, with the way his gaze doesn’t seem to focus on a certain point and his skin has lost all the color in it. Baekhyun’s heart drops; he’s never seen him like this, looking like someone has squeezed the life from him. “Chanyeol, what’s wrong?”

And Chanyeol, the motormouth, the one who won’t stop talking unless you put a gag in his mouth, the ever-vocal Chanyeol- doesn’t even look at him, doesn’t acknowledge his existence at all. Where usually he’d smile at Baekhyun and give him some sort of salutation, Chanyeol just stares distantly with those wide eyes of his and keeps wheezing, hunched in on himself as if he’s trying to protect an injury. Baekhyun is seized with a primal fear that stupefies him and keeps him rooted to the spot, as if he’s watching a man burn alive in front of his very eyes.

DANGER, his light whispers, thrumming in his veins, flowing through his jack-rabbiting heart and roaring his his ears. SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT. Baekhyun knows that he should- he should really do something, why is he just standing here, why isn’t he helping his friend-

Because he can’t. Because all of his instincts are telling him to turn back and run.

Behind him, Junmyeon and Minseok crash into the room, followed closely by Yixing. They must’ve heard Chanyeol scream and came to check on him as well, they must be aware that this is unusual and concerning, but the moment they lay their eyes on Chanyeol’s rigid form, Baekhyun sees it- sees each and every one of them freezes for a millisecond, nostrils flaring- and he knows that their instincts are telling them the same thing his are screaming at him. But Junmyeon isn't someone who will let a friend suffer just because it makes him feel unsafe- Baekhyun is shoved against the wall as he sits next to Chanyeol on the bed and takes his hand, voice aiming for calm and coming out panicked instead. “What happened?”

The firebender doesn’t react, eyes still unfocused and his hand curled into a fist in Junmyeon’s grip. It doesn’t even look like he’s aware that he’s not alone.

Did he say anything to you? Yixing asks Baekhyun, taking his position pressed against the wall next to him, brow furrowed in worry. Baekhyun shakes his head, unable to speak at the sight of his catatonic friend. Ice grips his heart, painful and cold, his lungs freezing over and refusing to work. Yixing takes his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

“What’s wrong with him? Should we call someone?” Minseok demands, tone urgent as he looks at his Parallel’s attempts at getting through to the firebender.

“Don’t.” Junmyeon’s voice is final and powerful, the word cut in just the right way to sound like law; spoken like a leader. He’s not the kind to crack under pressure, and when it was needed, he always withheld any difficulties. Baekhyun had no doubt that this time- no matter how bad it is- wouldn’t be any different.

True to form, Junmyeon keeps his voice steady, lacing it with the tiniest bit of authority. “Chanyeol.”

Something clicks in Chanyeol’s eyes. They gain focus in an instant, snapping to Junmyeon’s face like it is light in a dark room. He takes a deep breath that sounds like the first one he’d taken in years, like a man resurfacing from a deep ocean; and then, to Baekhyun’s absolute shock, big, hot tears run down his face.

“He’s gone,” he whispers, voice weak and barely audible even though they’re all straining to hear him. He sounds shattered, like the words are broken glass that lodges his his throat and mouth, injuring him, coating his tongue with the taste of metal. Baekhyun’s blood turns to ice, his grip on Yixing’s hand tightening; his instincts yell at him, shrill in his ears and tingling in his fingertips, and he thinks he knows who Chanyeol is talking about, but the possibility of it is too horrible to accept. Still, dread creeps into his mind, tainting his consciousness and leaking into Yixing’s, because his instincts have never lead him wrong before.

He wishes with all his heart for this to be the first.

Minseok, however, looks completely lost. Or maybe he’s had the exact same feeling as Baekhyun and is trying his best not to think of it, like him. “Who? Who’s gone?” he questions. Baekhyun knows he doesn’t mean to be hurtful, but Chanyeol flinches away from his voice as if Minseok stuck a knife in his chest, expression wretched.

Please, Baekhyun thinks wildly, knuckles white and heart frozen. Please don’t say it.

But when Chanyeol closes his eyes and opens his mouth, he knows that nothing will ever be the same.

“Wufan’s gone.”

Here’s how it begins: they all break.

------

They don’t really know why they have Parallels. Some of them- mostly Jongdae- have come up with theories as to why this weird system has come into place. One of them says that it had something to do with their powers- that powers that were somewhat alike created the telepathic link between two people. The only evidence to this theory, though, are Junmyeon and Minseok, water and ice, and even they don’t exactly believe it.

Another theory, the most popular one, suggests that it has something to do with the medical treatment that they receive in the Facility. Some think that it’s due to some sort of drug that they were forced to consume and that they’re a part of an experiment on telepathic bonds. Others suppose that it’s because of a chip or other gadget that was inserted into their bodies upon their arrival to the facility. This theory, while highly plausible, doesn’t explain how the Parallel pairs themselves are made- how two people are chosen to have their minds linked.

The third theory, courtesy of Sehun, suggests that they shouldn’t think too much about this kind of .

No matter the truth- whether it’s because of drugs, technology, powers, or just fate- Kyungsoo has never been this thankful for anything in his life.

When he first arrived at the facility, scared and confused and angry, he had no one to turn to. Junmyeon was nice but kind of pushy, Chanyeol was loud and nosy, Sehun and Zitao barely paid attention to anyone but each other, and Jongin was nodding off half the time. Kyungsoo tried to hang out with Yixing, but the healer was too clueless. Wufan was too tall (bad for Kyungsoo’s self-esteem) and didn’t know how to control his limbs. They were all good people, he knew, but he was alone in a new and intimidating place, robbed of his freedom and power, and in stressful situations he tends to look for people like himself- tends to look for comfort.

In the end, Kyungsoo settled with Luhan and Minseok- the only two quiet and reasonable enough for his standards. They were all nice, and kind, and definitely understood what Kyungsoo was going through, but Kyungsoo has spent too long building his walls and coating them with glass shards, and they worked too well, and now he didn’t know how to take them down.

So many of his days were spent in silence; he honestly doesn’t remember saying more than five words a day at that time. He liked it and despised it, and his chest grew tight with unrest with every single day; nothing was right, and he didn’t know how much longer he could handle it.

In their defence, they all took a shot at getting through to him. Some tried more than others, like Yixing, Junmyeon, and Chanyeol, who sat with him at lunch at attempted to draw him into their conversations with cheery voices and polite questions. He didn’t really cooperate most of the time, but they didn’t give up, which he found slightly admirable. And they weren’t all that bad, so he continued to sit with them, even though he rarely contributed to their conversations.

That’s how Kyungsoo eventually came to learn of Parallels.

It was on a day where Wufan joined them for lunch, sitting next to Chanyeol and making his own remarks. Kyungsoo liked to listen to him talk, mostly because of his accent and the way it tinged his sentences. He spoke like poetry. Kyungsoo actually started to pick up on Mandarin and Cantonese since he came here, through listening in to the conversations the Chinese men had around the common area. He didn’t tell anyone about it, of course; but when Chanyeol accidentally cut himself with his knife while trying to slice through some meat and Wufan hissed and gathered his hand to his chest like he was injured, Kyungsoo knew that the Cantonese word he muttered under his breath was definitely “”.

While Chanyeol went to get his finger bandaged, Kyungsoo studied Wufan with careful eyes, noticing the way he kept his thumb- the one Chanyeol accidentally cut- positioned in a way that insured that it won’t come into contact with anything. He wasn’t stupid- obviously something weird was going on with these two.

“Wufan’s Chanyeol’s Parallel,” Junmyeon supplied helpfully in between bites of meat and kimchi. “Chanyeol’s really clumsy, so Wufan always suffers because of him.”

At that, Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. Parallels? What’s that? Considering everything he just saw, he assumed it was some sort of mental link, but that’s crazy, that’s sci-fi material, it’s impossible-

Which is when he remembered that he’s surrounded by men with superpowers and that he, himself, can manipulate the very earth.

So maybe it’s not that crazy, he corrected himself, picking up a bit of rice with his chopsticks and plopping it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Theoretically, yes, if he can make the ground shake just by thinking about it, then surely the idea of two people developing a mental link between them isn’t that far-fetched; especially not in this place, this intimidating facility with infinite secrets between its walls. Kyungsoo hummed to himself. Interesting.

“Who are the other Parallels?” he asked Junmyeon, eager to get more data. The water bender’s eyebrows raised in surprise- that must be the most he’s heard Kyungsoo say since he got here- but he leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach, expression pleased.

“Minseok’s mine,” he started with a certain amount of satisfaction in his voice at that statement, eyes darting to the ice bender, who was sitting in the next table and talking enthusiastically to Luhan, before returning to Kyungsoo. “Then there’s Chanyeol and Wufan, and Sehun and Zitao.”

“Luhan and Jongin too,” Yixing added, chiming in around a mouthful of meat. Junmyeon nodded approvingly, thanking the healer for reminding him.

Kyungsoo, however, was puzzled. “You don’t have one?” he asked Yixing, brows knit together in confusion. Why don’t I have one? he asked himself, part bitter and part sad. What’s wrong with me?

Yixing’s expression was soft, understanding, as if he knew exactly what Kyungsoo was thinking. “I may not have a Parallel right now, but I will, eventually,” he said, tone calm and sure, like water lapping at a rock. Something in his voice was magical- Kyungsoo immediately felt himself relax, the bitterness in his heart dissipating easily. “Wufan didn’t have one, either, until Chanyeol came here.”

Huh. Kyungsoo turned his gaze at Wufan, who nodded, smile nostalgic. “It was hard here at first, but when Chanyeol appeared, it was…” he stopped for a second, his lips, appearing to be in deep thought. “It’s not something you can describe, really. It’s just a whole other level of communication and intimacy. It’s just… different.”

That’s when Chanyeol trudged back, his thumb bandaged and a cheeky grin on his face. “I heard my name,” he said, his tone smug. “Were you telling Kyungsoo of your undying love for me?”

The conversation quickly deteriorated from there, and Kyungsoo tapped out to think about this whole thing. If almost everyone but him has a Parallel- a soulmate, virtually- what does it say about him? Is he broken? Is he really that different? Is he just gonna spend his life like this- alone, while everyone around him finds someone that’s special to them?

Then, one day, a new guy showed up.

It was their free time- a time of day Kyungsoo guessed to be the afternoon but had no way of actually knowing if it was, since the facility had no windows- a time to rest after their daily training. He was sitting in a chair and trying to focus on one of the few books they were given, a hideously boring tomb about medical history, when a hush fell through the room. Even loud, boisterous Chanyeol was quiet for once. That, of course, was reason enough for Kyungsoo to raise his head in order to find out what was going on; and that’s when he saw him.

He was thin, and muscular, jet black hair standing out against the white walls. He stood in the entrance to the common room with his eyes wide open, looking around in fear, and the minute his eyes landed on Kyungsoo, it was like someone set fire to his blood- his heart started racing, his eyes widened, his mouth opened. Kyungsoo looked at this boy, with his sharp eyes and thin lips and defined cheekbones, and something in his head said, You see this boy? Hold on to him and never let go.

“It’s a new guy,” he heard someone whisper through the dull humming in his ears, and the sound of his chair dragging against the floor surprised even him when Kyungsoo found himself standing abruptly and walking over to that boy, the boy who was now looking at him in some sort of mystified astonishment. He was vaguely aware of everyone’s eyes on him, of their hushed reactions of surprise- they’ve probably never seen him act like this towards anyone before, this must be so strange- but nothing mattered to him, nothing but this boy and the way his gaze on Kyungsoo’s face felt so right.

Jongdae, that something in his head said, and Kyungsoo realized that that must be his name. Suddenly everything about him felt familiar, like they’ve known each other for years and were now meeting after a short break. Something about him made Kyungsoo feel warm, safe, home. It was almost strange how natural it was for him to accept that.

Tilting his head slightly to the side, Kyungsoo blinked. I know you, he thought, and something about it felt different- it echoed, bouncing around the caverns of his head and entering uncharted territory, a mind that wasn’t his own and felt so comfortable, it might as well be.

The corners of Jongdae’s lips lifted slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether he’s allowed to smile or not. I know you, a melodical voice said in Kyungsoo’s head- Jongdae’s voice. Everything about it sounded so right, like Kyungsoo was meant to live his life listening to it, and before he knew it he was smiling, a full-on heart-shaped smile that felt like it spread to his ears.

I think I was waiting for you, Kyungsoo thought, hand rising and landing on Jongdae’s cheek, touching warm skin. Even that felt right, and Kyungsoo knew he was supposed to be surprised by that, considering how much he hated to initiate contact with people- but there was no surprise, just happy contentment. A hush fell in the room around them, although he wasn’t sure if everyone else stopped talking or if his brain just filtered them out in favor of what he was experiencing.

Jongdae’s smile was beautiful, eyes disappearing into little slits and his teeth showing, and there was laughter in his voice when he answered. I’m here now.

The next thing Kyungsoo knew, they were pressed close, chest-to-chest with their arms around each other, and nothing has never felt as good as this.

------

They never got the chance to fully recover from Wufan before the next disaster struck.

Chanyeol was a mess. They couldn’t talk to him- any attempt at interacting with him was met with a deep fury that manifested itself in snarls and flames at Chanyeol’s fingertips, dancing in his eyes. He wouldn’t come out of his cubicle, and when he passed by his cubicle, Baekhyun could hear muffled sobs and angry shouts. He was dealing with the death of his Parallel the way he was dealing with it, which meant isolating himself from everyone in addition to the isolation in his head.

The remaining Chinese men were inarguably the second most affected. They didn’t just lose a friend, they lost a reminder of where they came from, a piece of home. Chanyeol’s cubicle wasn’t the only one crying could be heard from- Zitao cried almost all the time, and while Luhan never cried around them, the tear tracks on his face and his red and swollen eyes made it pretty clear that he was grieving as well. Yixing would cry silently in Baekhyun’s arms at night, curled up in his body and drenching his shirt with steadily flowing tears, and Baekhyun-

Baekhyun’s torn.

He’s mourning, of course. He’s grief-struck. Wufan was so funny, and understanding, and so soft in his own way. He would always hug Baekhyun, lift him when he got especially excited, he even kissed his cheek a few times (after he made sure Jongdae wasn’t watching, of course)- he was a gentle giant in every way, and Baekhyun misses him so much it hurts. It feels like he cracked a rib and now it’s constantly bothering him, spreading sharp pain in his chest whenever he tried to laugh or talk or breathe, poking at his lung dangerously and threatening to tear at his heart.

But- he can’t ignore the fact that since he first heard Chanyeol scream his light has been pushing at him, warning him, whispering DANGER RUN RUN NOT SAFE NOT SAFE NOT SAFE at any given moment. He can’t deny that he feels tense, hunted, like a rabbit pushed into a corner with a gun pointed at it. He feels like his life is at stake, like something awful is happening, and he knows he’s not being crazy, because Yixing feels it too. His Parallel doesn’t speak much these days, and his thoughts are mainly in Mandarin ever since Wufan died, but Baekhyun can feel Yixing’s power nudging at him, whispering warnings in his Parallel’s head.

Which means he’s not alone. Which means- he has to talk to Jongdae.

His boyfriend is in his cubicle, curled up into a little ball in his bed, and for once Kyungsoo isn’t with him. That’s surprise- Kyungsoo and Jongdae were always inseparable, but ever since Wufan died they were attached at the hip, cuddling together and never letting the other out of their sight. It makes sense; they all held on tighter to their Parallel since then.

Baekhyun doesn’t even bother knocking before entering Jongdae’s cubicle, walking in quietly and sliding onto Jongdae’s bed, curling himself around his boyfriend, arms finding their way around the lightning bender’s slim waist the way they always do. It’s easy, always been easy with them, to fall into each other’s orbit and find their own synch. The smell of Jongdae’s skin fills Baekhyun’s mind when he leans in to kiss his boyfriend’s nape, lips lingering for a few seconds.

They stay like that for a while, lying in silence. Even though they’re two of the chattier people in their group, they don’t always need to talk, especially not around each other. Sometimes it’s easier to just be quiet and together and just share the same space in peace. Baekhyun rubs slow circles into Jongdae’s stomach with his thumb and listens to him breathe, and that, if anything, helps him calm down a little.

Eventually, Jongdae turns around to face him, eyes soft and smile even softer. Baekhyun looks at him, at his cat-like eyes, at his turned up lips, at the two freckles dotting his temple, and thinks that he might be totally in love.

“Hey,” Jongdae mumbles quietly, leaning in to kiss Baekhyun on the lips, just a short peck that Baekhyun reciprocates. “What’s up?”

To stall a bit (and because it feels nice), Baekhyun chases after him and kisses him again, a little deeper this time. Jongdae tastes like bread and honey and something inherently Jongdae that never fails to draw Baekhyun in every time, but he remembers why came here in the first place and has to forcefully draw himself away. He happily notes the way Jongdae slowly blinks his eyes open and the little disappointed pout he sports, then gets to it. “Can I talk to you?”

Jongdae smiles that smile of his that means he’s going to be incredibly cheesy. “What, you mean you didn’t come in here just to get some?”

He can’t help it; Baekhyun rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling- he’s ever so fond of his boyfriend, really. “Nah, I’ll wait for another time for that,” he replies teasingly, then sobers up, tone becoming serious. “Seriously, though. Can we talk?”

It’s almost alarming how fast Jongdae’s expression turns from cheeky to attentive, gaze becoming steady and calculating. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Baekhyun swallows, unsure of how to put this. “Have you been feeling like your power is trying to… to warn you ever since-” his voice catches, breaking on the last syllable, his chest turning tight. “-since Wufan died?”

To his great surprise, Jongdae doesn’t even stop to think before nodding, and Baekhyun’s heart sinks. So there’s really some sort of danger, an impending doom that’s approaching, and he’s not just being paranoid. “We’ve both felt it,” Jongdae says, voice steady, clearly talking about his Parallel and himself. “We think our powers can feel that we're under attack, that someone’s trying to hurt us, and they’re trying- well, evolutionarily speaking, they’re trying to survive.”

“By telling us to run,” Baekhyun completes. He thinks he gets it. “By setting off the alarms.”

Jongdae nods, in his element. “It happens in animals all the time- when a zebra thinks it hears or sees a lioness, it warns the entire pack. Humans don’t normally do that since we’re at the absolute top of the food chain, but here, our group is at the bottom. Our powers are another advantage other humans don’t have- without them, we might have not noticed the danger at all.”

Baekhyun nods; it’s all perfectly logical, except for one thing, the biggest thing, actually. “What is this danger, then?”

A stone settles in his gut when Jongdae shrugs, expression dark. “We don’t know yet,” he says, voice dropping and turning grave. “But Wufan might not be the last.”

It takes a few seconds for his words to settle, but when they do, Baekhyun closes his eyes with a bitter taste in his mouth. He’s never felt so hopeless in his life- not even when he first arrived at the facility, shocked and young and with no idea what’s happening. This is way worse, way bigger than anything he’s ever experienced; he’s in grave danger, but he has no idea what might happen, and he has nowhere to go and no idea what to do. He feels so small, so unimportant and defenseless, and he hates it, despises it with every fiber of his being. And what’s worse is that it’s not just him in danger- it’s his friends, his Parallel, his boyfriend. They all have so much to lose.

Jongdae’s lips settle on his forehead and his arms wrap around him, pulling him against his chest. “Let’s hope we’re wrong,” he whispers, and sounds like he can’t even bring himself to believe his own words.

Baekhyun can’t either. He tries, though. God, does he try.

------

Jongdae and Kyungsoo were right. They’re always right.

Because two weeks later, Jongin drops a glass in the middle of the common area, and Baekhyun’s heart stops.

No, he thinks desperately as Jongin collapses in on himself, clutching his head as he falls to ground with a scream. No, no, no, this isn’t happening, not another one, please no no nononono-

“Luhan,” Jongin says like a prayer, eyes wide as if he can’t quite fathom what’s happening. “Luhan, where is- where’s Luhan, where’s Luhan I can’t feel him I can’t feel him-”

Baekhyun runs; runs until he finds Yixing and hugs him, wraps him up in his arms and shakes like a leaf as tears stream down his cheeks. Yixing doesn’t even need to ask what happened. He hugs Baekhyun tight and cries and cries.

IT’S SPREADING, Baekhyun’s light tells him. RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN.

He doesn’t know how.

------

When Sehun falls as is someone punched him in the gut with a scream of Zitao’s name, it takes all Baekhyun has not to throw up.

NOT SAFE, his instincts keen, desperate. GO. IT’S COMING. IT’S DEATH.

What can he do?