Hi Guys! Here's Sehun's solo chapter! (slight gore/torture warnings, but its not too bad I think)

Sehun

I bound off into the forest, using my power to propel myself high above the roots and logs, but still staying below the canopy. The sounds of the convoy chasing the other protectors rumble at my back, and I hear the frantic shouting as B.A.P try to muster their forces to capture and kill my friends.

I need to go back and help them.

I turn around, running perpendicular to the road, trying to catch up, but the sound of a few powerful, smaller motors hum nearby.

Three quad bikes bounce into the forest, suspension so strong that the vehicles are almost hopping across the jungle floor. The drivers have their heads covered with black motorbike helmets, and a gunner sits on the back of the bike, one hand bracing themselves, the other brandishing a rapid-fire gun. I raise my hand to attack, but a sound of gunfire hitting the tree trunks near me made me flinch, and I’m forced to run.

And so begins the chase.

I run for ages, pumping my legs as hard as I can. I’m grateful for all the cardio training Suho has forced me to do, and for training with Tao for all the quick thinking. I duck under vines and branches, swerve ponds and thickets of impassable foliage. Using my power as a boost, I jump over fallen logs and tricky trees, air pockets pushing my boots upwards with heavy force.

But while I’m constantly running, the quad bikes keep up. At some times I manage to leave a bike behind, stuck behind a difficult rise in the dirt or a wall of vines, but then one of the other bikes would surprise me from my flank, spraying a shower of bullets in my direction. I couldn’t shake them all.

I’d search for a hiding place as I ran, ducking behind boulders or trees and hoping the bikes would keep going unknowingly, but I’d be warned with a heavy spray of bullets that I was not hidden from them.

The bikes would never let me attack, as soon as I turn around to use my power I’m barraged with bullets, forcing me to duck my head and bound away before I get shot. My wind powers were strong, but I could not stop gunfire.

At one point, I stop behind a rise in the dirt and throw up, my body convulsing due to the physical workout. The bile had not entirely left my mouth when I’m forced to run again, my legs shaking under the strain of constant sprinting.

I use my power more, almost flying with the amount of air I’m using to propel myself forward. I’m at the apex of one of my jumps when I feel a stinging line of bullets rip across the backs of my knees.

Screaming with pain, I land on my face, too afraid to land on my damaged legs. The sound of the quadbike motors surround me, and the deafening sound of gunfire explodes the ground in fountains of dirt and dead leaves.

I fire out a blast of air blindly, connecting with nothing. Again and again I shoot out, unwilling to let the fight leave me. When I hear the mechanical crash of a bike into a tree echo in the jungle, the fight comes back.

Unable to stand up, I blast the air underneath me. My legs felt like I’m about to leave them behind, ripped off and bloodied on the jungle floor, but I took off with all my limbs, lifting to about two meters into the air.

I quickly blast again, shooting off into the air like a superhero who is bad at flying. In fact, a superhero who is bad at flying is exactly who I am. In short bursts, I lift my broken body into the air and back into the chase. My body never touches the ground, but for every time I blast my wind to propel myself forward, pain hits my legs so hard that I fear they will rip off.

The two remaining quad bikes followed me more easily, firing up into the air at me. Bullets graze my skin, and I scream in pain as one is lodged into my shoulder. I summon my energy and propel myself further, shooting up through the jungle canopy and high into the air. I keep blasting the air downwards as my body flies up, trying to get out of range of the bullets.

I reach the highest I’ve ever been, and for an instant I’m suspended in the air, neither rising nor falling. In the distance I see the protectors fighting for their lives; Kris circling the battlefield in his plane while Chanyeol’s fire burns like a ferocious beacon. I can see past the lake, to what seems to be a tall city on the other side, the tops of the skyscrapers shrouded in smog and pollution. I see dirt roads, intertwined together like complex braids and snaking about the numerous villages.

My brief peace is interrupted as I feel my stomach being left behind. I start to drop, and I turn onto my belly to see where my carcass would splat against the ground.

I see thatched roofs, and brown roads. As I get closer I can pick out village people working outside, or riding their bikes through the village.

I take a deep breath, and just as I’m about to hit the ground, I slow my descent with a large bubble of wind. I land almost daintily in the middle of an intersection, although immediately after landing, I fall onto my stomach and throw up again, vomit spilling against my cheek.

The village people start to arrive, pointing and whispering at me. A woman peers out of her doorway, still drying a plate with a checkered rag. Men lift their hats and drop their tools.

I’m too injured, too dead to talk or to move, or to even to ask for help. My whole body rocks with pain, watching my blood, my life force spill out onto the dirt.

Although I couldn’t speak the language, I started to understand what the villagers were saying. Men mimed killing me, punching their hands with heavy fists or hefting pitchforks. Worried women nodded their heads in agreement, and a few children were shushed indoors. They recognized me from the television, and they were going to kill me for being one of the ‘terrorist’.

Finally, someone took action.

The first man walked up to me and stomped hard on my arm, just above the elbow. I heard a loud crack, but I was unable to scream as the pain got caught in my throat. He twisted his boot into the dirt, grinding my broken bone further before stepping off.

I scream as a sharp object is stabbed into my upper leg. My voice feels hoarse and about to burst from screaming out with the pain, but I didn’t black out.  I can’t turn around to see if it’s a knife, or a pitchfork or anything else that sticks out of my leg but the blinding pain rockets through my body.

My head flings backwards as someone kicks me in the chin, smashing my jaw, and my fingers are left mangled under heavy work boots. It’s a free-for-all, constant, brutal annihilation of my body by the villagers.

“STOP!” I hear a man scream, the voice cracking under the ferocity and urgency.

The crowd parts, and I feel a rusty scrape against my bone as the sharp instrument is taken out of my leg.

My vision is going dark and blurry, I can barely see the man as he runs up to me and lifts my vomit-covered, blood splattered head into his lap, crossing his legs under my cheek.

Immediately I feel an anesthetic soothing, taking away all pain. I cry out as the man lifts my crushed, mangled arm, lifting it into a position where he can reach. Slowly I feel the bones shifting inside, every tiny piece of fragmented bone finding a place where it is needed.

We sit like this for about an hour while my arm heals, while the now quiet crowd watches shushed from the sidelines. My arm isn’t fully healed, but the man leaves it to pursue more intense injuries.

As bullets start to pop out of my skin, I muster the energy to turn onto my back and look up at the man. Salty tears from the man fall onto my cheek, and upside down I can see who my savior is.

“Yixing?” I croak out through my split lip.

“You’re safe now, Sehun.” He sobs, his green-glowing fingers ghosting over my body. “Just be quiet.”

He rips off the remainder of my shirt and places his hands on my stomach. I feel my insides turn and move as they are pushed into their rightful places, my ribs slowly reforming one by one.

A villager scurries forwards and places a cup of water next to Yixing, and he offers me a drink before he takes a few sips himself.

The crowd continues to watch in awe at the healing process, some of the children sitting down on the dirt to observe the spectacle. I gather that Yixing was in the village healing the sick and wounded when I dropped in. The villagers would trust the healer, and anyone who is worth being healed by Yixing was not worth being killed.

Yixing starts to close up the wounds on my distorted legs. At least five bullets are pushed out of my skin, clinking together on the dirt like loose change. The nurturing silence is rudely interrupted as the terrifying sound of a heavy motor rumbles into the village.

Quickly and organized, twenty men in black gear surround us, pointing at us with their guns. They create a perfect circle, pushing the crowd to the side. They each lower their guns to us with their masked eyes on the visor, ready to fire. The crowd of villagers has mixed reactions; some run inside, hushing their children before them while others stand with their arms crossed over their chests, happy that proper authorities have arrived. I notice that a few of the villagers seem hesitant, unsure if they should try to speak out and take action against the men pointing guns at the healer.

Two of the soldiers step aside, allowing another man to enter the circle. Yongguk strides into the circle, grinning down at us as he views his catch.

I note his burnt jacket, still smoking at the edges of the collar. There’s a cut on his left cheek, the blood wiped off cleanly. He raises a bandaged hand, covered in layers upon layers of white gauze, and I see that he is missing a few fingers, still bloody and bleeding.

He smiles, nodding at the petrified Yixing tauntingly.

With his raised hand, he makes a fist, and the last thing I hear is gunfire before my senses go black.

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I groan as feeling starts to come into my body. My legs are still partially mangled, and I feel the weight of a lot of my body on the damaged joints. Bits and pieces of me are still broken, unfixed by Yixing. My chest stings as if I was getting a painful tattoo, pain registering from just underneath my collarbones. I register tight metal cuffs on my arms, waist, neck and legs, pinning my body onto a slightly tilted table, so I’m almost upright.

“Sehun? Can you hear me?" Yixing asks from my right.

I try to nod my head and to force my eyes open, but I’m too sore from my involuntary sleep to move.

“Don’t open your eyes, Sehun. Pretend to be asleep.” Yixing warns me. “The tranquiliser he shot us with should keep you out cold, unable to be woken by anything until it wears off. We’re being interrogated by Yongguk. He wants to find out where the Tree Of Life is based in this world. He’s not here at the moment, but he’ll be back soon. In this room there’s a one way window so we’re probably being recorded and observed, but they don’t know if you’re awake. I’ve taken care of that. He’s tried interrogating me but none of his attacks work on me, I’m healing faster than he can hurt me so I’m basically immortal to him. You might find you’ve been cut and burnt a bit while you were asleep. I’m so sorry for that, I’ll heal you as soon as I can. He tried to hurt you to make me speak but I didn’t say anything. He’s going to start interrogating you soon, once you’re awake. Be strong, and don’t show them you’re awake.”

My heart leaps in my chest, yet I try not to move. What is Yixing doing? He just said we’re being recorded, so why is he talking like he knows I can hear him? In my subconscious I remember what Suho told us about the Tree’s location, in the Taeanhaean National Park close to Seoul.

Yixing pauses for a few seconds, then starts talking again.

 “Sehun? Can you hear me? Don’t open your eyes, Sehun. Pretend you’re still asleep. The tranquilizer he shot us with should keep you out cold, unable to be woken by anything until it wears off. We’re being interrogated by Yongguk…”

Yixing keeps talking, repeating what he just said. It takes me a minute, but soon I understand his plan. I wonder how long he’s been reciting those lines, if it’s been an hour, a day, or just a few minutes. If he keeps continuously talking, then the people observing us will never know when I really awaken, although Yixing probably doesn’t know I’m awake either.

“…Be strong and don’t show them you’re awake.” Yixing finishes his line again. “Sehun? Don’t open your eyes, pretend you’re still asleep. The tranquilizer he shot us with should keep you out cold, unable to be woken by anything until it wears…”

Yixing was interrupted as a door slams open and heavy boots walk into the room. I’ve heard these boots too often, he’s made this impressive entrance too many times; The faint squeak of leather, the jingle of metal clips and chains, the heavy footsteps.

“How are you?” Yongguk said “Ready to talk?”

“Yeah,” Yixing sighed. “The Tree of Life is up your ing , but you’re never gonna get to it because it’s too tight. You should just give up.”

Yongguk roared and I heard a slam of metal as he attempts to stab Yixing. There’s the sound of energy pulsing, and then I hear the clanging of metal on the ground.

“You’re gonna run out of knives at this rate.” Yixing smirks. “Also, Sehun, pretend to be asleep, in case you just woke up.”

I hear Yongguk’s rapid angry panting. This guy was furious. I wonder how long he has been interrogating Yixing.

“You still not going to speak? We’ll I guess I’ll finish my artwork.”

I hear Yongguk’s steps as he gets closer to me, and through closed eyelids I can see the light grow darker as he leans over, blocking the lights.

“Look at you, ing rainbow hair.” I fight the urge to twitch as I feel his hot breath on my cheek. Yongguk spits on my face.

He braces one hand on my chest, and the stinging that I felt before returns with triple the pain. I feel a sharp knife carving into my chest slowly.

“Pretend to be asleep Sehun, I’m so sorry. Pretend to be asleep.” Yixing chants.

I clench my jaw to fight the pain, hoping Yongguk won’t notice. My eyes tear up, yet I don’t move.

“You going to speak?” Yongguk taunts Yixing. Yixing is silent, but he doesn’t give away any information. Yongguk keeps carving, and I feel the knife trace letters across my chest. I feel sweat drip down my cheek, but I still didn’t move. I tried to distract myself by imagining what I would do if I weren’t in the manacles, probably creating a hurricane in this room that would tear apart Yongguk.

“Look, now it says ‘WAD’ on his chest.” Yongguk chuckles to himself, his baritone voice reverberating through the room. “Yet the healer didn’t speak.”

There’s a menacing pause as Yongguk hypes up the theatricality.

“TELL ME WHERE THE TREE IS, YIXING. I KNOW YOU KNOW WHERE THE ER IS.”

Yongguk releases his pent-up frustration by driving his knife into my arm, just underneath my shoulder.

The pain is sudden, and without warning. I open my eyes and yell in agony, releasing a torrent of wind out from my body. Yongguk is thrown against the one-way mirror, creating a crack across the window. The rest of the room is bare, except for the trolley with surgical and torture instruments, which go flying around the room dangerously. I note where Yixing is, in the same position as me but to the right, tilted so he can watch my suffering. His face is full of terror, realizing that I’m now awake.

I take advantage of my outburst and sneakily aim the wind in Yixing’s direction. A knife hits Yixing’s thigh with the flat of its blade, and he bends his manacled wrist to grab the knife and tuck it behind his leg.

The wind stops but my yelling continues.

“Well, well, well,” Yongguk chuckles. “Sleeping beauty has awoken.” He heaves himself up off the wall slowly, as two men enter the room from a door to my left, pointing machine guns at Yixing and me.

Yongguk swaggers over to me, grasping the knife that’s stuck in my bicep and drawing it out slowly. At this point, the sensation of metal being pulled out of my body is not foreign to me, but it hurts all the same.

“I hope you enjoy the little artwork I’ve done on your chest, wad Sehun.” He mocks.

He lifts the knife above my head as if he were offering the weapon to the gods.

“Now, Sehun. You’re going to tell me where I can find the Tree Of Life.”

I look up at the knife with fear. The metal has started to glow red. I brace myself for pain, scrunching up my eyes and ducking my head, but I know it would be useless. I hear Yixing muttering quietly for Yongguk to stop, powerless.

After a long, drawn-out suspense, the knife is melted into molten metal by using Yongguk’s powers of lava.

“Last chance, Sehun. Tell me where the Tree is.” Yongguk intimidatingly spits.

I mumble my reply, making sure it’s inaudible.

“Whats that?” Yongguk leans down so I can speak in his ear.

“EAT A , YOU SOGGY NAPKIN!” I scream into his ear.

Yongguk screams in rage, and opens his cupped hands above my head. I scream. Yixing screams. Everyone is screaming.

I feel the lava land on my head, pouring through the strands of hair and onto my scalp. I keep screaming, my eyes screwed shut as the lava drips down my face, following the trail of the side of my nose and off my top lip. When the lava trails down the back of my ear, I open my eyes and stop screaming.

This Lava doesn’t hurt.

I’m not even burning. Sure, I feel pain when the lava covers my fresh wounds, but there is no ‘ahh my skin is being melted off my bones’ pain.

I look to Yongguk for an explanation, but he is too busy being stunned at Yixing.

Yixing has his face screwed up in concentration, his eyes mere slits as they focus on me. From his body there’s a green aura, which pulses over to me and wraps around me, enveloping me in a faint green light.

Yixing is healing me from a distance, making me impervious to Yongguk’s torture like him. I feel the cuts on my chest and arms start to heal up, as well as the joints in my legs.

I open my fists and fill the room with air again, sending everyone sprawling onto the floor. The Lava on my head solidifies into a thin layer of rock, and by tapping my head on the board I’m tied to I can crumble most of it away, falling onto my shoulders and onto the floor.

The soldiers brace themselves against the wall as they start firing on us. I prepare myself for the familiar feeling of bullets, yet they all fall off my body as if it were made from steel. Man, Yixing’s powers are awesome.

I struggle against my restraints, but I’m still pinned to the board tightly. However, this current situation does remind me of something that happened in the past.

“Yixing! Don’t let them shoot my hands! That’s where the wind comes from!” I shout over the ruckus.

Straight away the soldiers change their aim, the bullets no longer hitting my chest but instead my hands. Yixing nodded to me solemnly, lowering his protective aura for a moment.

I scream as my hands are torn apart by bullets, but I quickly yank my hands through the manacles to Yixing can start healing me again. As soon as the soothing green light covers me again, I ignore the attacker and their bullets, focusing on the other restraints around me.

I feel around my neck at the curved metal bar pinning me to the board, searching for the lock. Once I find the lock I press my palm to the keyhole and blast air as hard as I can. To my happiness, the lock is opened. I push the manacle off my neck, the cuts that it made already healing under Yixing’s help.  I keep going, freeing my waist and ankles before I can step off the board on almost-healed legs.

With one hand pushing Yongguk and the soldiers up against the door with wind, I walk over to Yixing, blasting open his locks as well.

To my dismay, when I turn back to the door, there was a charred hole where Yongguk had melted his way through. Yixing swipes his hand across my chest, sealing up the cuts where Yongguk had carved ‘WAD’. They sealed up but the cuts didn’t disappear completely.

Yixing pulls a pistol out of the holster from a soldier and checks the magazine.

”Tranquilizer darts” He noted out loud. “These are what he used to knock us out.”

“How long do they last?” I ask, panting slightly.

“You stayed asleep for about five hours more than me.” Yixing said, and I felt a pang of guilt for making Yixing face Yongguk alone for so long, all while chanting for me to stay asleep.

Yixing bends down and checks the watch of an unconscious soldier.

“It’s 3PM. We’ve been away for more than 24 hours.”

“” I say, trying to fathom what could’ve happened since I parted from the others.

An alarm started echoing around the room, and the building is thrown into a dull, red lighting.

“You’re going to have to explain to me what’s been going on, but first, let’s get out of this hellhole.” Yixing holds up the pistol while bracing his aim, his other hand brandishing the knife.

I open the door suspiciously. Taking a deep breath, I step out into a hallway and blast air down both directions. I look down each hallway and note that it’s empty.

Yixing steps into the hallway with me, and picking a direction, we start running.

My bare feet slap against the tiles as we run, and I’m glad that I have at least pants on. Yixing still has all his clothes, except his shoes. His shirt wasn’t torn up by a chase through the jungle, murderous village people and a sadistic monster called Yongguk.

Occasionally we come across troops of soldiers, in pairs or groups of three. Yixing protects us with his healing powers, while I use my powers to knock the soldiers into the walls. We barely rest, always on the move.

By following both our instincts and the few signs we found, we ended up in a giant garage, filled with motorcycles and jeeps and even a few planes.

“Sehun, do you think you can blast out those hangar doors?” Yixing asks, pointing at the large roll up doors.

They’ll be difficult to get through, but I think I can take them down.

I hop onto the back of a motorbike while Yixing starts up the engine. Instinctively I duck my head as more men start shooting at us, but my healing unicorn protects me.

Yixing starts driving, and I whirl the air above my head. He passes as close as he can to the hangar doors, and I fire out my wind. The hangar door buckles, shaking under the pressure. I hold my attack, not letting the wind stop. Eventually, the door creaks and groans, and one side of it pops out of the track that rolls up and down. There’s a small gap left in between the door and the wall, large enough for us to escape on the motorbike.

Yixing circles back, ready to aim for the opening. He steadies the bike, and I take the time to fire air back at our attackers like firing a shotgun of air.

We gain speed, Yixing bent over the handlebars. I hold onto Yixing’s waist tightly as he aims for the gap like an arrow through a chain link.        

Then Yixing disappears, and I’m left holding onto black smoke

The bike topples without a driver, and I’m flown against the ground, skidding into the middle of the hangar.

A bullet hits my arm, and I’m stunned as I realize that Yixing is no longer here to shield me. Men move to block the exit we made in the hangar door, aiming their guns at me.

I swirl air around myself, creating a tornado around my body. If I can’t get out of this place, then I may as well take out as much of their fancy cars and planes before I’m killed.

My feet leave the ground, and the tornado grows beneath me. It thickens, encompassing the entire room. The motorbikes are the first to fall over, as well as the soldiers. Slowly, the planes start to move as well, their thin legs sliding on the floor.

The first smash happens when two planes crunch into each other. My tornado grows stronger, and the planes start to slide faster. Tires squeak as cars refuse to budge.

Men start lifting off the floor, swirling around the room as they are left powerless. Slowly, motorbikes start gaining lift, and I push harder to get them into the air.

A loud crash sounds behind me, and I turn my neck to see a motorbike lodged into the side of a car. Another bike takes out the wing of a plane, and the wing detaches and flies into an airborne soldier. Cars start slipping, moving around the room as they are battered with men and motorbikes.

Gradually, the air becomes a dangerous hive of metal and men. There isn’t a vehicle that hasn’t donated part of its body to the tornado; I make sure that every car is smashed, that every plane is wingless and that every motorbike is left in two pieces.

I start to falter as I hear a large lump of bike scrape across the floor, losing its lift. I topple slightly, growing tired from keeping up the tornado. I look around me. I’ve destroyed the place; everything is left useless.

I start to slow down the tornado, lowering everything to the floor, including me. There is no use up keeping such a feat; I may as well surrender or be killed. My feet land on the ground as other soldiers get to their feet.

They aim their guns and I lift my arms, preparing my attacks.

My arms start smoking, black vapor lifting off the limbs, around my fingers. Then, like Yixing, I disappeared.

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Hi guys! I hope you liked the first chapter that focuses on only 2 people  :) I've written two more chapters in advance so hopefully I'll be posting more regularly for a while. 

Thankyou so much for all your amazing comments, they make my day ^-^ 

I'd like to know what you guys think so I'm going to start putting questions in at the bottom of each chapter, comment your replies if you want :3

Q: What battle do you want to see happen betwee EXO and BAP the most and why? (I've already planned out the future fights but who knows, maybe the fight you want is already planned out?)

Next chapter will be Kris!