(So I'll start altering between present and past tense because apparently, it makes a more solid first person point of view. Don't worry, I still check my grammar.)

The Union's Headquarter

First week of March

I know I am alive.

That much I’m sure of. Although my consciousness tends to drift apart every now and then, I could still hear their voices. My eyes are closed, but my brain is working perfectly well. I never really thought of what I’ve felt prior to this – but it’s fear. It’s like a tiny spider with deadly poison, crawling all over me, menacing and mentally draining. The worst part yet is I let it be, because that’s the only way I know I’m still alive. That I am real and not just a spirit outside of my body.

I thought I was imagining voices when I heard Luhan and Sehun arguing beside my bed. They sounded far away, and their voices were hard to tell apart. One was a little more soft-spoken and high-pitched while the other was always rough on the edge, raspy and low. They were talking about something, and I reckoned that they were talking about me. It wasn’t in my interest to find out, so I simply shut down and went back to sleep peacefully. For all the years of having trouble falling asleep, this was the first time I felt truly contented.

“When is she going to wake up?” is the first coherent sentence I have heard in a while. It is close, melodious, and almost melancholic. I struggle to move my body, but it refuses to budge even just a little. There was the sound of water washing down the sink and footsteps coming in. Another voice added on, this one sounded slightly more childlike with a hint of impatience – definitely Tao. “She’s been unconscious since Sehun brought her in. Is she really alright, Lay? What if…”

“There is no ‘what if’, Tao,” was Sehun’s reply before Lay could voice out anything. He sounded agitated and distracted at the moment, completely oblivious to Tao’s grievance and anxiety. Lay merely pursed his lips into a shallow smile. Who would have known that the infamous martial artist who usually acts like the world owes him something and demands attention whenever and wherever, would put so much attention to this matter. Of the three, Tao is the tallest and fittest – his body a sturdy six-pack board with beautiful chocolate skin. But he is also the one who frets often like a henpecked mother.

“Calm down, Tao,” Lay kindly chirped in, hoping that his explanation would calm both of them down. Sehun looked a little tired, although those dark circle and heavy eye bags have frequently occupy the space underneath his grey eyes. They swept at him once, and Lay swore he could almost hear the volatile beat of his heart. Sehun lacked sleep, and when he did, he grew to be extremely moody, and an unstable Sehun equalled to a distraught working environment for everyone. His stormy eyes finally settled on the bed as he sat on one of the chairs, with one leg hanging up casually without any notion on manners whatsoever.

“Sera faced tremendous amount of pressure since she joined in, and she needs a lot of time to recuperate. The General’s punishment has pushed her to her limit, and her body can no longer cope under the stress. Give it a few more days. Let her sleep for a while. Poor girl doesn’t even get proper nutrition and rest,” Lay sighed. If my body could move, I know I would be smiling. “You should rest, too, Sehun. You haven’t left this room for days already. Go back to your room and sleep. I’ll be the one keeping a watch over her.”

“No need,” Sehun replied quickly. Fatigue plagued him constantly nowadays, but he would rather be here so he wouldn’t regret anything that happens later.

Tao pouted when he felt invisible, so he walked towards the bed and sat beside me. The skin that he touched tingled a little, but he stopped quickly when Sehun shot him a challenging glare – daring him to continue should he want to, and Tao, despite being the older one and an invincible time-manipulator, still submitted obediently under Sehun’s heated gaze. He would rather hold back than risked himself offending the God of Death and walked straight to his doom. “Is there no way to speed up her recovery, Lay? It’s been so long and I miss her.” He timidly added on while glancing back and forth between the other two, “I mean, kinda. I kind of miss her just a tiny bit. I swear I don’t mean anything else.”

“Sure you do, Tao,” Sehun replied dryly but decided to drop the matter. In a short while, Lay realised that although Sehun tried to keep up a strong front and stayed awake, his body had reacted and shut itself down due to fatigue. After making sure that he would not be startled nor disturbed, Lay took out an extra blanket from the pile of clean clothes he prepared and covered Sehun with it. Tao opened his mouth and closed it again before any of his word could come out. “Let him be,” Lay said, “He needs to learn that his stubbornness only harms the body.”

“But Lay, you need a break as well,” Tao blinked his dark eyes and reminded Lay out of concern. “You haven’t had any fitful sleep to tend to Sera since she was rescued. Maybe I should keep a watch for the two of you.”

Lay had grown used to the responsibility of his job. He grew up a healer, whether it is by unconventional means or by studying medicine. Therefore, overnight duty was no stranger to him. It came knocking once in a while, and sleep had often became a luxury instead of necessity. Last night, he only slept for three hours, waking up twice in the process to check up on me. His smile softened and he shook his head, “It’s alright. You should go back and call for Suho. I will stay here with Sehun to take turns looking after Sera.”

“Urgh…” He resented having to be the bearer of bad news. Tao fidgeted a little while speaking, clutching onto the hem of my shirt and playing with it to ease his nerves, “Speaking of Suho, no one has seen him in a while. Even Kris is starting to get a little nervous. You don’t think anything bad has fallen on him, right? I mean… It’s Suho.” And he sounded a little scared when he emphasised the name, almost like a taboo dancing at the tip of his tongue. If Suho, the General’s favourite child, received punishment, then the rest of the Elites would have to bear the brute of his anger as well. After all, the General seemed to be very partial when it came to Suho. If he didn’t let him go, he would never spare the rest of them, either.

“It’s Suho,” Lay nodded and repeated. My ears twitch a little when I hear his familiar name. I have this sudden urge to tell them – by yelling – that I am here. Here. Alive. Breathing. But sadly, my attempt of being discovered is cut short, like always, when I fail miserably. I can’t even open my eyes or move a finger, much or less shout, so maybe it is just as Lay said. I am tired. I am truly, thoroughly, utterly, tired. I have embraced death with open arms, until I was revived from the brink of insanity and brought back, unsure of what to feel afterwards. Like… Should I be thankful? Should I cry?

“He will be fine,” Lay replied, hoping to convince himself of his own words. “Maybe the General sent him away for an individual mission – who knows.” But Tao looked positively shaken and spooked instead. Like I said, for a man his size, his sense and dramatic flare never seemed to fade, often enduring even the most inappropriate situation and glares, “Without telling Kris? Isn’t that the first? Kris and him are pretty tight buddies. I almost thought they had an ambiguous relationship before.” And that lasted all the way until he was kicked hard by Kris in a playful banter.

“Really?” Lay asked, amused. “I thought you and Kris were together when I first met you.”

“That’s so not the point,” He pouted again, clearly upset.

For the entire time I lay awake without moving, Suho has never once visited. I figure out he is busy again. He always is. There is always something Suho must do – greater things that involve more people. People like him like things in a grander scale because they strive for the recognition. The fame. The glory. I tell myself that this is something to be expected, because I have grown used to sitting on the second-base, meaning that I am used to never being a priority for someone else. That’s how I go on living.

“Anyway, I’ll try to find him and tell him about Sera’s condition,” Tao decisively said. I let out an unladylike snort. Don’t misunderstand, I don’t blame Suho for being late – or not being able to help at all. I understand his fragile position in the Union, and how saving me would probably wreck the hard work he has been doing for years. If there is no hope to begin with, there would be no hatred. So I smile bitterly and play pretend. “I think he’ll be very happy to know that she is fine and all.”

Lay nodded and let him go.

* * *

When I finally open my eyes, Sehun is the only one by the bedside. I've lost count of how long it has been, but it feels like forever since I stopped moving. My body hurts when I try to move it even though physically, I am perfectly fine. Sehun was asleep peacefully. Suho told me that this guy never slept in a stranger’s place before because of his OCD, but Sehun had been tired out to the point that he gave up and succumbed to the sweet lull of sleep. I smile and watch as he snores lightly.

His chest heaves up and down, but he doesn’t move when he sleeps. There is that kind of peace that only silence could offer, and this is it. It’s hard to describe what I really feel at the moment. It’s like a false sense of happiness, but I’m not sure where it’s from. I don’t know how long I just sit there, staring, but when he wakes up, his eyes fluttered open and he is instantly alarmed when he sees me smiling. Sehun wasn’t sure which surprised him more now – the fact that I have woken up or that I smiled at him.

I want to speak, but my throat is so dry, I start coughing non-stop. His lips curved up, but nevertheless, he did not pursue that as an opportunity for a joke (unlike a certain sarcastic boy who constantly bombarded me during our mission – whom frankly, I’ve started to miss). He walked to the sink and filled the glass with clean, boiled water in the jar. I dunk the content like a deprived madman. “You gotta take it slow, Sera,” He said and gently patted my back when I started coughing from the water’s sudden invasion. “You haven’t had anything for days so it’s only natural to feel a little dry and starved.”

He is right. I am so damn hungry. “How… long…?”

“’How long were you asleep for?’” He kindly finished my sentence and I nodded. His eyes seemed to twinkle under the dim light in my room. The dark circle had given him a more mature, somewhat sophisticated yet dark look that looks mesmerizing. And I’m not even kidding. Sometimes I wonder how it feels like to be born naturally and effortlessly good-looking that each movement becomes an art in motion. I’m jealous. He chuckled and replied, “For about ten days now, minus the two days in quarantine with those creatures.”

I know he is trying to humour me, but I feel a little disturbed, thinking about the razor-like teeth and dagger-scales of those humongous alligators. Like what the Rebel’s Leader used to tell me; the worst kind of torture is not physical. Instead it’s the psychological one that does the most damage, because sometimes our brain allows the impossible, possible, whether it is realised in dreams or the state of delirium. Two days of living worse than death has taught me a painful, but precious lesson.

“Ten days,” I mutter silently and frown. I have wasted yet another ten days of my life.

Sehun brought the water jar to my bedside and silently sat on his seat, pondering with his hands supporting his chin. “So my ability…” I wondered and glanced at Sehun, who seemed completely detached at the moment. “It’s best to lie low for a while, Sera.” He sounded out my name intimately, almost like an old friend’s greeting. Sehun tapped his finger soundlessly against the thick material of his jeans and added on with a promise, “Sooner or later, the General will return your ability.”

“How do you know?” My voice is thick and hoarse. The light in my eyes have long dimmed. I have lived with these voices in my head for years and although many people consider their Transcendental abilities to be a form of curse or mutation, I regard mine as a treasure. I feel sad and lost where the anger was supposed to be. Instead of feeling wronged, I scold myself for my shortcomings and vow to be more careful in the future. This time, I have been too reckless because I wanted to save Daniel and the rest.

There is that kind of mystery that dance at the curves between his lips. And yet at the same time, I can’t help but notice the familiarity. I have this sudden, strange urge to ask him if we have met somewhere before, because his quirks are somewhat similar to a certain someone in my memory that I don’t really remember anymore. But Sehun, being Sehun, ignored my blatant, blanked stare and replied, “How do I know what? That he will return your ability? Because he needs you in this organisation – that much is guaranteed so you should thank yourself for being a rarity.”

“No, I mean…” It sounds a little odd coming from my mouth, “How do you know the General is a Stealer? Isn’t he like some ghostly figure that never met anyone else but Suho?” 

“I know things,” was his final reply, like he didn’t want to talk about it much longer. And maybe his definition of ‘things’ far differs from mine. I’m not too curious about his means of obtaining such information, or how much he knows about the Union – I guess, I’m just generally not a very inquisitive person. His pale eyes dimmed under the fluorescent light, flickering a little with anonymous sparks because of how tired he was. I recalled the conversation I have been listening to for the last few days and know that he has yet to have a proper sleep ever since.

I would be lying if I say that I am not the least bit touched – because I am. It’s this kind of sweet, simple gesture that move me the most. He is always so detached and isolated from the world, but when he does come out (occasionally), Sehun always manages to capture my attention – whether it is by his brutally honest words or his thoughtful action. I look down at my fingers and suddenly find myself speechless. I dare not look at his direction for once. It’s a little awkward because I don’t know this man well and I find the sudden silence very disturbing.

“Were you the one who saved me from that cliff?” The question escaped my mouth before I could process it. I bit my lips almost immediately and flush a little from the embarrassment. Ah damn, the drowsiness must be affecting my judgement badly. I wish I could take back the question, but Sehun, with half-a-smile hanging on his dry lips and a straightforward manner answered it, “Yeah.” And somehow, his short, no-nonsense reply sounded very endearing.

All of a sudden, I don’t find myself quite as distant from Sehun anymore. Perhaps it’s due to his life-saving grace, or his silent thoughtfulness, but Sehun didn’t seem that bad of a person. I purse my lips together and let out a relieved smile, “Thank you.” And it was a sentence that wasn’t feigned with fake sincerity or polite gratitude, but a genuine extension in return for all that he had done. I don’t think I could say it any better than a ‘thank you’.

His eyes lingered for a while, seemingly a little stunned. Do you know the kind of person with whom words could never seem to suffice? It’s this kind of situation where we both have so much to say to each other, and yet at the same time, no words would be able to make up for that silence that we have, just staring at each other in wonder. It’s also the kind where I feel something probing inside of me – but have yet to find out why or what it is exactly. I don’t know how, but on that very day, I let down my walls around Sehun. Because he had saved me. And because I also decide that I like him platonically – through the weirdest circumstances. I don’t know if it’s enough to call this the beginning of a ‘friendship’, but it’s close. We are slowly getting there.

“You’re welcome,” He said softly, returning my smile with a blank look, but the tip of his lips curved a little. “I’ll ask Lay to come down with food.”

* * *

Project Hellbringers began ten years ago. Or more precisely spoken, it began its initiation stage ten years ago. The Old General was only thirty-nine then, his black hair used to be slick and combed to the back, and his face freed from the pale scar that now rested on the left of his jawline. He thought of the project as a mission impossible, because the idea itself sounded so absurd and surreal. But the General liked challenge and big things – and as he said, ‘to change the world, one must be prepared to think big’. Back then, he wasn’t as ambitious as he was now.

The General was born in a family of soldiers and politicians, and entered military service when he was twenty, coming to power when he was thirty, and joined the Union when he was thirty-five. By then, he wielded power beyond measure, and took control of the organisation within a mere ten years. Project Hellbringers was something he proposed when he took up the position of a Counsellor in the Council of Ten. Using the Union’s resources and his wits and tricks, the General convinced and coerced everyone into agreement, and knowing that he could command the armies of Transcendentals at his whim, the rest of the Council members yielded and voted him the next Leader in succession.

The General’s nostalgia was disturbed when the glass door opened automatically to announce Jane Lee’s arrival. The female Doctor was the brightest mind in neuroscience of her generation, and had been one hell of a faithful subordinate for more than half a decade. Without her aid, Hellbringers would not come to fruition and proceed to where they were now. Although the General was a cold-hearted man, he still showed the much-needed appreciation for Doctor Lee and acknowledged her arrival when she stepped into the room.

“General,” Jane bowed down in front of him. “You called for me.”

“How is the project going along?”

“Not so good, General. We have only gotten one sample from the last subject, so the result from the current blood mix does not look very promising until we get more,” Jane explained and put down the paper she was holding onto the table. Inside, she wrote in details about the progress of the research she was working on and the hypothesis that she had thought of from a decade’s worth of failure. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, General, but our last subject has… passed away this morning due to severe malnutrition and blood loss. She couldn’t cope, even with her ability.”

“That just shows that the subject’s ability belongs to the minor class,” He clicked his tongue in disdain. His eyes skimmed through all the information on the paper, and the more he read, the more dissatisfied he became. “These dirty, contaminated subjects with poor blood quality. Do not bother about these half-assed test anymore – it won’t bring the desired effect even if we manage to discover something. We need pure-bloods with S-class abilities. Has Taeil, that child, brought on any news from Doyoung?”

Jane paused hesitantly. All the food she had eaten for dinner suddenly forced itself into . She felt nauseous to the core. And yet, she stilled herself and kept very, very quiet, in case the General decided to hold it against her. Headache started to crawl its way in from the overwhelming pressure she received in-and-out of work. He sneered at her response and asked her with a dangerously low voice, “Not yet, Doctor Lee? Is that supposed to be an automatic response that you have every time I ask you this Goddamn question? Or have you learnt to hide things from me over the years by thinking that I won’t find out?”

Jane understood her position in the Union. Although the General trusted her, she was walking on an egg-shell with every move she made. “General, I dare not deceive you,” She flinched and spoke gravely, “But I cannot simply report to you the things I am not sure of myself.” Or else, the next time she was called, her head would be rolling off the floor and the next thing she knew was Jane Lee was no more. “Doyoung and Taeil have indeed found someone suitable as our blood sample, but that is a mere suspicion. We have no way to verify it as of now.”

“Now we’re talking,” The General calmed down and smiled, “Speak, Doctor.”

“Taeil recently discovered that one of CIA’s deceased agents seems to have hidden a potential Transcendental in his family in exchange for his long-term service and loyalty,” Jane explained curtly. “We are not sure of the ability and the aptitude, General.” She paused when she noticed the strange sparks in his eyes. He looked so bloodthirsty at the moment, and violence was the only way to quench his hunger. Almost in a daze, Jane asked, “What should we do, General? Should we take a chance to figure it out or should we cross off this one, as well?”

The General tapped the table with his fingers and smiled charmingly – and one that sent an instant alarm to Jane’s survival instinct. It was almost like a reflexive gesture for her to cower a little under his oppressive presence, especially after she stood witness to his many years of cruelty. She knew exactly what he was capable of. “Oh, don’t bother, Doctor Lee. I have just the perfect person for this task. Why don’t you do me a favour and release Suho from the sixth floor? Don’t do anything to him as of yet. He’ll be a very useful chess piece for me this time.”

A/N: Notice that the prelude is set a few months in the future from this chapter? And don't worry about being friends with Sera and whatnot, because if she actually said 'you're my friend' it would be pretty much equal to 'I would do anything to keep you happy'.