Chapter 1: The Fallen

Minjun woke with an excruciating ache in his brain, his eyes involuntarily squinting hard from the pain. Still, instincts had him keeping his body from showing any reaction as he resisted the pressing urge to curl his body into a fetal position and clutch at his head. Instead, his hands stayed where they were underneath his chin and his body laid straight, resting on his side. He bit his inner cheeks hard, stopping any sound from escaping, save for a quiet whimper that he could not help. Except for a slight tremble from the effort it took to control his pain, there were no other signs indicating that he was awake.

Soon, another bout of pain assaulted his brain, causing his facial orifices to bleed. Blood pooled behind his eyelids while trickling down his nostrils and ears simultaneously. Even under the agonizing haze clouding his mind, years of self-preservation and survival made him fully aware of not making sudden movements. Wary of being watched, he slowly turned his head until his face was half buried in his pillow; the movement made unsuspicious by the fact that he was already originally sleeping on his side. As if suddenly cold, he pulled up the blanket that was pooling at his waist up to his shoulders so that he could hide the fact that he had curled his knees to his chest. How he wished he could drag the blanket up over his head instead, but that would attract unwanted attention.

Taking deep breaths, he tried to push the pain to the back of his mind as he went into his mental plane and searched for the telepathic link to his partner. His hands, now covered by the blanket, curled into fists at the added strain to his mind. The link was weak due to the barriers placed around his cell but with his abilities, he could still hold the connection from his end. He followed the link to his comrade’s mental barriers then tapped to signal his presence.

“Something’s wrong,” he quickly blurted when a tall, dark, figure shimmered into view.

“Tell me.”

“I’m losing the link to the others. Where they were before, is only a dark void.”

“Maybe the mental barriers around your cell were enhanced?”

Minjun exited the mental plane and opened his eyes. He tested the barriers placed around his cell, pushing at it with his mind. The solid wall caging his mind held as strongly as they had before, not weaker nor stronger. It would have imprisoned any normal-leveled telepathic ability, but Minjun’s abilities surpassed many, hence he was able to anchor links, albeit weak, to his comrades. However, he still had to be mindful of the barriers’ limits in case of triggering an alarm.

Completing his analysis, he went back to his partner to give his report.

“They hadn’t tempered with the barrier. Also, I bled.”

The meaning behind his statement was clear but neither of them addressed it. They had lost more of their comrades. Again.

 “Do you need a medic?”

“That would alarm them. I can handle it.”

A grunt of acknowledgement. Then, “inform me when it gets too much. Don’t leave things to stand till it’s too late. We need you alive.” As usual there was no warmth in his tone, just coldly stating facts.

Minjun nodded.

“The plan, it must take place today. Protect Wooyoung,” Minjun ordered, “Whatever happens, he must live.”

“Understood. Have some rest.”

Minjun watched as his partners’s image shimmered and disappeared before making his way to the black voids. A tug in his heart had him standing there, gazing into the void, when he knew he had to cut the connections that were still holding them to him. The longer he stalled, the greater the damage his brain would have to endure. Even so, he stayed rooted on the spot, as wave after wave of pain passed. He remembered reading a book on human feelings before. Humans feel pain in their hearts which they related to an emotion called sadness. Except sadness was impossible for him. He was, after all, made to be emotionless.

Stepping up to the first seemingly fragile connection, he grabbed it with both hands. He had done this before. Countless times. Regardless, the after-effects still had him wary. Moreover, it had never been this many. He buried his face even further into his pillow that he was practically lying face down on it, and bit into the blanket for good measure. Steeling himself, he yanked the connection until he felt the “roots” breaking free. The effect was akin to having one’s arm pulled out from its socket. He barely stopped a pain-filled scream from escaping his lips, but could not help releasing a groan that was muffled by the pillow. Not allowing himself to register the pain yet, he went on to the next connection, then the next, then the next, until all twenty were released. By the time it was done, he slumped, face-down in his bed, utterly exhausted and drenched in sweat. His jaw ached from biting down too hard. At one point, he must have had accidentally bit his tongue for he tasted copper in his mouth. It felt like years later before he was finally able to move.

For the first time in his life, he was thankful of the pitch-blackness of his cell. Had they installed lights, they would have discovered the blood covering his pillow. As conspicuously as he could, he rubbed his face into his pillow in an effort to wipe the blood off his face, rubbing a little harder on the places where he felt the blood had dried. When he was satisfied, he swapped the top pillow with the bottom to hide the bloody patch, making sure to keep his eyes closed and make the move look as natural as how someone sleeping would. Eyes still closed although he was wide awake, he waited for dusk to come or the order to wake, whichever came first.