(a/n):The awaited prologue--kinda? 
excuse any typos- thanks
enjoy?

 

 

Namjoon knows his eyes are open but the darkness stretches endlessly with no sign of light. It's similar to waking up in the middle of the night to a pitch black room, but at least there was a window. 

 

He's not floating, but what he does feel is anchored to this one spot. As though a heavy weight sits on his body, Namjoon can't move even when he tries. But even if he did move, would he drift off into the never-ending darkness? Would he even notice if he moved away from this spot? 

 

The darkness is isolating and he's torn between anxiety and curiosity when he eventually gives up on the idea of moving. It's not a dream. There's no haze or blurred details (like he could even see any details, anyways). But it is off in a way that floating in eternal darkness can be, it's eerily unnatural. So, he's not sure what to expect. Nobody likes being held in suspense like this. Nobody likes to hear the suspenseful background music build-up and not be shown the antagonist-- evil usually has a face (unless we're talking about fan-fiction, then evil is just miscommunication, Namjoon has had his fill of fan-fictions that starred him after all).

 

When the tightening in his chest eventually subsides, the questions finally come. Where was here? Why was he here? Along with the questions, distant noises began to filter in through the darkness. Gargled voices and hummed rhythms were distorted as though he was under water. Namjoon's pulse was beating through his ears as the sounds turn crisp with each passing moment.

 

"I swear, it would be great to get some good food."

"We'll stop as soon as we find a place."

 

His head is pressed against a surface and the blood running through his limbs fill his body with more warmth than he felt from within the dark abyss. And then finally, the first breath he takes is a choking gasp, filling his lungs with sharp warm air. It burns at first, his eyes prickling with tears as he's coughing a fit. Then his eyes are wide open, adjusting painfully quick to his surroundings, Namjoon's seated inside a car, warm air filling the vehicle from the cracked windows and maybe he was beginning to prefer the air-conditioner instead.

 

"Glad to see you're finally with us, Namjoon."

 

Distantly he heard the greeting. Namjoon's head turns towards the direction of the voice, the person's features slowly dawning on him; slim-built, short brown hair, lightly tanned skin--

 

It's him.

 

Namjoon is staring shamelessly with his mouth most likely slacked a bit wide enough to catch any stray insects from the opened window. His mind comes to a stand-still, unable to properly process a coherent response. Because it's himself he sees with a hand firmly on the steering wheel and wearing a police uniform. His hand is reaching instinctively into his back pocket, but quickly comes to realize that the device was not there.

 

"God." Namjoon hears himself say just as his doppleganger spares him a glance, unamused.  

 

He forces himself to look out the window, he registers the endless expanse of desert land, the empty road that continues into the horizon... and Namjoon just doesn't know what to do. Not knowing what to do makes him feel more anxious. His physique stiffens when he realizes the car is slowing down and pulling to the side of the road. Namjoon wants to make a run from it. He starts thinking long-term, where would he go? How will he find food and water? The desert is empty. There weren't any drinks in the cup holders of the car from what he seen. Most importantly, he didn't know which way would return him to a safe civilization. A desert like this stretches on for hundreds of miles, he wasn't in South Korea anymore, he doesn't recall any deserts in South Korea. 

 

But if he did try and run, he would get dehydrated, pass out on a rock, get pecked at by crows... Namjoon swallows audibly and nearly jumps out of his seat when a hand firmly shakes his shoulder. He snaps out of his thoughts and returns his eyes to the Namjoon beside him who also jumps back in his seat, mirroring a surprised expression on his face and holding onto his hand as though he'd been burnt. Namjoon doesn't think he should be allowed to look that surprised, he's a hallucination after all (right?). 

 

"You're... alive." 

 

"Wait, what?!" Another voice from the back seat, quite literally, jumps  into the conversation. They poke their head out in between both front seats and directs a stare at Namjoon with excitement written all over their face. The eager movements made the car bounce just a bit. Namjoon wanted to ask just what did he mean by 'alive', but instantly was distracted away from the thought.

 

It was another doppleganger.

 

But rather than a police uniform, this one sported a high school uniform and his familiar platinum blonde hair. He actually missed the platinum color from their earlier concepts, even thought about bringing up with their hairstylist a few times but became tongue-tied once the moment came.

Jesus Christ.

High school-Namjoon (because honestly, Namjoon just didn't know how to differentiate them at this point), gives him a strange look. "Okay, no- It would be great if I was Jesus Christ, but that sounds too egotistical-- more grandiose probably." So, he probably said that outloud. 

"You did." High school-Namjoon confirms before reaching out and pressing the back of his fingers against the crook of Namjoon's neck. 

 

Namjoon doesn't just lean away because someone is touching his neck without permission but also because High school-Namjoon's hand was ice cold. It sent a shiver down Namjoon's spine as his brows furrowed at the blonde. His hand were cold in a way that should be unusual for the climate they were in. It's warm, the sun high in the sky burned beated at his exposed skin. High school-Namjoon's hand was as cold as hands get when not wearing gloves during a cold Winter.

 

"You're right, Captain. He's still warm!" High school-Namjoon nearly squeals in delight. "Oh! You're probably wondering about us. There's a handful of us, so it can get a bit confusing. But this hyung who's driving us, we usually call him Captain! In his world, he worked at a police precint in Seoul." Then he points a finger at himself and grins widely, enthusiasm following his words, "I'm one of the top students in the nation! Even was going to some top-notch university after high school. I didn't really decide where. I thought of Europe or America. Never really got to accepting my offers, though."

"In which case, we just call him Genius, around here." Captain interjects, eyeing Namjoon warily.

 

Of course the newly shared information has Namjoon completely stumped. All this talk of other worlds, was something he doesn't find himself actually believing outside of a good sci-fi novel or movie. He has watched all the Star Wars movies, even some Star trek, but outside of that, the concept of another world existing is unlikely. Namjoon recognizes the cautious expression on the Captain's face, he usually wears it when he feels the group being threatened or in instances where he, himself felt inwardly curious of something so foreign he didn't automatically understand. Like when Hoseok goes on hyper-rampages spontaneously throughout the week. Namjoon doesn't know where he's getting the energy from but hes began suspecting either Jimin or Taehyung has something to do with it.

 

"Anyway! What about you?" Genius pipes, slightly shaking Namjoon's seat. "What do you do in your world?"

 

All this talk about worlds -- in plural-- makes Namjoon feel strange. He's unsure if it's fascination or just himself confusing it with the thrill of fear. At the back of his mind, he can feel a voice reminding him that this could all just be... a very elaborate dream. For all he knows, he could be passed out in the sound recording studio (again) after a long few days of working. Truth be told, he's hoping it's not that, he doesn't want to endure Jin worrily pecking at him like a mother hen for not coming back to the dorm to rest.

 

"I rap in a group of idols--artists. Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi-hyung and Jin-hyung; we're a boygroup." He finally says.

 

It's not usually something he had to explain since wherever they went the group was often recognized if the pointed cameras, phones, and far-off shrieks of their names were anything to go by. Because Genius hasn't dared to interrupt him with questions and comments he knows he's buzzing with (the kid is nearly vibrating in his seat) Namjoon continues, "We call ourselves the Bangtan Boys. We're surprisingly pretty popular globally." Their amount of popularity never fails to amaze him.

 

"That sounds awesome!" Genius nods his head quickly. Namjoon doesn't really remember being that energetic back in high school. But then he remembers where he is (well, not specifically-- hypothetically?) and notes that perhaps his life in each of these 'worlds' differ in various ways. "Even though I don't know half of the names you mentioned, that sounds really amazing." 

Didn't know half of those names. 

Those names are of people--friends whom became so integrated in Namjoon's life it's almost ridiculous to think he'd lead a life without all of them being a part of it.

 

The Captain on the other hand remains quiet as he makes attempts to observe their conversation. He hasn't voluntarily offered information about his world to compare with Namjoon's own, but Namjoon could read how he's doing it on his own. Eyebrows knitting ever so slightly at the newest details. Namjoon notices him staring distantly over the steering wheel at some points. Something grim trails after those stares and Namjoon's not sure he wants to know why that is just yet.

 

The ignition is turned and the car growls quietly back to life, "We should talk about this in more detail when we re-group with the others." Captain stresses, then pulls the car back onto the road.

 

Genius sinks back down into his seat with a small pout, but follows the Captain's suggestion without argument. Namjoon, on the other hand, couldn't bear to even sit still at the suggestion and only grew more puzzled at his words. "What do you mean 'others'? There's more versions of us here?" Namjoon questions, incredulously. He was already bewildered just by the presence of two of his dopplegangers, but more than two--? Namjoon hasn't thought that far into the possibility.

 

He was kind of really hoping that this wouldn't get too complicated.

 

"Last I counted, there were at least 352 of us, including me and Genius. You make 353."

And now, just got complicated. 

"Why aren't you the least bit phased by the existences of 352-versions of us?!" Namjoon's eyes must be wide as saucers by now, because that unimpressed look returns to Captain's face and he's really starting to not like it very much. "Can you just explain to me what's going on here? Why are we here--wherever here even is?"

 

Namjoon's grasping at straws. They're purposely leaving him in the dark and it's like being unable to scratch a massive itch that's within his reach. He's just frustrated and wants to understand, then do whatever he needs to do to wake up from this dream- or whatever it is. Even Genius is uncharacteristically quiet--if his earlier behavior was anything to go by.

 

The silence stretches. It goes on for so long that Namjoon eventually begins to believe that he's not going to get an answer until they've reached their destination. But then Captain takes this deep inhale after a quarter of a mile and says, "We don't know why we're here. We all just woke up here." 

 

There it was. 

 

"Other Namjoons just... continued appearing around the same area in this desert. And eversince me and Genius came here, we've decided that our purpose was to collect everyone who comes. Hoping we could find some answers." Subtle restlessness hides itself between the Captain's words. Despite the information not being enough to help him completely understand, Namjoon does find himself soothed enough not to fidget in his seat. After another beat of silence, Captain glances at him while Namjoon's eyes are directed out the window. "The others'll want to meet you."

 

From the desert landscape, his gaze drops to his hands in his lap and Namjoon dares to ask the question thats been hanging over his head for a short-while now, "Are you and Genius dead?"

 

Namjoon overhears Genius shift in the backseat, "Everyone who comes here is dead." He croaks, "Except you."