III. Jongdae

 

He decided to skip class that day.

Instead, he sat on the couch, legs kicked out over the arm, and played video games, tongue slipped past his lips as he focused on the flashing lights and firing guns on the small screen.

“Don’t you have Chemistry today?”

 

Jongdae looked up to meet Minseok’s incredulous glare.

 

“Technically, yes,” he said. “But am I going? No.”
 

“Can I ask why?”

 

Jongdae pursed his lips and paused his video game. “I’m tired.”

 

Minseok didn’t say anything else, looking down at Jongdae with an unreadable look flickering in his eyes. He stepped away from the couch and stepped into the kitchen, clattering of pots and pans ringing throughout the small living space.

 

Jongdae resumed his game, spamming his thumb against the triggers. “What are you doing?”

 

“Making breakfast, what else?” Minseok snorted. “If I don’t, you’ll end up eating something disgusting.”

“Poptarts are not disgusting!”

 

Jongdae heard Minseok give a snort of a laugh, the chinking of pots continuing to stab at his ears.  A soft chuckle slipped past his own lips as he halfheartedly fought the aliens in his video game, spinning to the right, firing his gun and mowing them down one by one. He was back on the battlefield, pulse-rifle in hand, back pressed against a crumble cement wall. He rolled out from behind it, perching himself up on one knee and aiming his rifle down the sight- the crosshair focused on the robot, its red eye blaring a blanket of crimson over him. He fired shot after shot, pulses diving into a smooth, stainless metal. A sinister shriek pounced Jongdae, snarling in his ear and baring its teeth against his bare neck as the robot writhed and broke down into bits of molten metal.

His brothers stood behind him, all sporting injuries, their arms and legs adorned in bandages, Kai hanging lifelessly between Suho and Sehun, whose face was marred with a giant gash across his left cheek, the skin above his eyebrow split open, blood sullying his cheek. Minseok could hardly stand, his ankle bent at a sickening angle. Twelve eyes stared at him, glittering with crystals, fear pouring from them in knotted brows and twitching lips.

 

They looked to him. He’d save them.

 

“Jongdae!”

 

He jerked, his game blaring “Game Over” in a booming motorized voice, the mocking words flashing across the skin in blaring red blocks, its crimson glow taunting him- the robot was in front of him, the scarlet eye shrieking. His brothers lay dead, their bodies seeping a red darker than any he had ever seen. He was pinned down, the metallic claw pulling at his gut and stirpping away the glowing orb hidden away in his jacket. Powerless. He thrashed and fought, his arms trying to grab the only thing that gave him the ability to save his brothers- to save the world. He felt his bones crack under the tremendous force sitting on top of him, pressing him against the cement until he saw dark splotches overtaking the edges of his vision. It’s eye glowered down at him, blinding him with the light.  Red.  All he could see was red.

 

“Jongdae!”

 

“What? I heard you the first time!”
 

“No, you didn’t.” Minseok stood behind him, apron tied taut around his waist, plates balancing in his hands. His eyebrows were drawn together in a tight stitch. Jongdae looked down at his ankle. It was fine. “Are you...having your visions again?”

 

Jongdae’s heart fell into his gut, and he could feel it hammering throughout his entire body, sending him into a spiral of tremors.  “No.”
 

Minseok hummed, the edge of his lip curled. Jongdae looked back to his game, the piercing gaze burning into his back enough to confirm his doubt that Minseok saw right through him like a piece of parchment paper. Minseok knew him better than anyone.

 

Silently, he took a seat beside him on the couch, slipping a plate of fried eggs and buttered toast into his lap. Jongdae felt the hammering of his heart soften to a soft but painful throb in his chest. The game’s ‘GAME OVER’ menu looped over and over, the daunting voice booming from the TV set every ten seconds, causing Jongdae to nearly choke on his first bite of toast.

 

“Thanks for the breakfast,” he spoke through his bread, gnawing on the crust as he glanced over to Minseok.

“You’re welcome, Jongdae.”

 

The two finished their breakfast in silence.

 

When Minseok stood to take their plates, Jongdae held onto his firmly. He stood before him, eyebrows knotted in bewilderment. “What is it?”

 

Jongdae released a shaking breath, staring at the ‘Game Over’ screen, his knuckles white around the edges of the plate. “Where are they?”
 

Silence. Minseok hesitated. “So you are seeing it again.”

 

“I never stopped,” he said.

 

Jongdae felt the cushion beside him sink. He tightened the grip of his fingers on the plate, the pads of his fingers blanched. A hand grazed across his back. He shut his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“What’s the point in telling you?”
 

“What’s the point in keeping it bottled up, Jongdae?”
 

“Please don’t call me that!”

 

The hand on his back stopped, and the cushion shifted. He opened his eyes to see Minseok kneeling in front of him, his small hands folded over Jongdae’s, easing his fingers from the death-grip around the plate. His hands were smooth and cold compared to Jongdae’s, which were littered with callouses and jittery with caffeine.

 

“Look,” he began. His voice was smooth, and soft, and Jongdae recognized the voice before.

 

Baekhyun was terrified, they all could see that. His hands were trembling around his orb, which flickered like a strobe light, nearly blinding all eight of them. Jongdae had noticed how delicate his hands were in that moment, nimble, thin, and shaking as they struggled to keep a solid hold on the hot, glowing orb of light.

 

“What was that thing?” he stammered. He missed that voice. “What is happening?”

“We don’t know, Baek.” Minseok stepped up, placing both hands on his shoulders, and jerking his body so their eyes met. Baekhyun’s were wide and glinting with tears. Jongdae wanted to hug him, but he was trapped at his ankles with terror and confusion.  

Minseok’s voice was comforting, like a blanket of warmth wrapping around Baekhyun’s shoulders.
“We don’t know what’s going on, but it’s wonderful,” he said. “You did this, Baekhyun. I don’t know how, but you did.”

 

Jongdae blinked.

“None of us are okay after what happened, Jongdae.” Minseok kept his hands over his own, massaging at his knuckles. . “You don’t have to pretend that you are. You don’t have to be strong.”

 

“I’m not...pretending,” he murmured.

 

“Then why haven’t you told me you’re having flashbacks again?”

 

Jongdae gnawed at his lower lip. The flashbacks had gotten better, at least once he got back into the rhythm of classes- spending his hours cramming for Chemistry 102 restraining his mind from running amuck and reliving the terror and guilt that plagues him every minute. However, after yesterday, he tossed and turned all night, his entire mind basked in crimson and remembering a light he extinguished forever.

 

“I don’t know, Minseok,” he said. “I’m tired of it. Just… Where are they?”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

 

“I never said I-“

 

“You don’t have to,” Minseok said. “I know you blame yourself for Yixing and Baekhyun.”

 

“Please, don’t…”

 

“You can’t blame yourself,” Minseok interjected. “Not anymore. We need to stay united, especially if we’re going to find them.”

 

“It doesn’t change the fact that I’m the reason they’re gone.” Jongdae felt his eyes begin to burn: a sensation foreign and terrifying to him.

 

He writhed, and pried his hands from Minseok’s, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. He willed the hot tears away, but behind his pressed eyelids, he saw Baekhyun, his face vibrant and lips pulled taut into an intoxicatingly stunning grin. Yixing had his arm draped around his brother’s neck, eyes and nose scrunched in laughter at whatever dumb joke came blundering from Baekhyun’s mouth. The tears slipped past the pressure of his palms and streaked down his cheeks. His throat seared with withheld lava that burned and scarred his throat, struggling to come up as he fought it down into submission. Eventually, the sob caught in his throat and released in a blubbering gasp, his entire frame wracking and breaking into tremors. He dug his palms even further against his face as if the pressure alone could end the endless onslaught of his tears.

 

Hands wrapped around his trembling shoulders, and those hands pressed him tight against a small yet comforting chest. Minseok whispered incoherent words of comfort into his hair, tucking Jongdae’s head beneath his chin and holding him as if Jongdae were a priceless vase- his seams and glass edges cracking against a cement ground. Minseok was the glue struggling to put him back together as he crumbled right in his fingers.

The whisperings never stopped. The hands remained strong and locked around his shoulders, and Minseok’s lips decorated his scalp with brief dusts of kisses and soft words. His body quivering too heavily to fight any longer, Jongdae dropped his hands from his face and let them weakly wrap around Minseok’s middle, his tears openly gliding over the crests of his cheeks. His eyes, puffy and red-rimmed, struggled to stay open, Minseok’s cooing and slight rocking of his body lulling him into exhaustion.

 

“Just go to sleep,” he said.

 

Jongdae couldn’t find it in himself to argue.

 

---

 

“Chen! Xiumin! It’s go time!”

 

Jongdae snorted awake, his eyes swollen shut from his hour of crying. As he jerked upright, chest heaving in surprise and panic, he noticed Minseok’s arms were still locked around him, the latter sleeping beside him on the couch. Heat pooled into his cheeks as he wrenched the arms off him. He wiped at his eyes and looked up to see Sehun. The younger wore his battle outfit- his eyes vibrant with the slight glint they all had when their orbs were activated.  He stood in the doorway, brow tensed and arms outstretched, the door slammed against the wall.

 

Jongdae blinked.

 

“What?”

 

“A new robot showed up,” he said, storming forward so he looked at Jongdae from behind the couch. Jongdae moved to force Minseok awake. The latter had always been a heavy sleeper.

 

“Suho’s been attacked.”

 

He didn’t think he ever saw the younger this serious, his chiseled features set in marble, unwavering, and as intimidating as the statues of perfection displayed along museum walls.

Jongdae felt his blood ran cold. Minseok stirred beside him.

 

“Attacked?” he groaned as he roused from his sleep, sitting upright with his eyes lidded and dark.

 

Sehun stomped his foot, storming in front of them to grasp at Minseok’s shoulders. “Yes,

attacked! Now, get your orbs! I already got Kyungsoo and Kai at the ready.”

 

Suddenly, Minseok was awake, grappling for Jongdae’s wrist and pulling him to the room that they shared. Jongdae had no choice but to follow, his ankles heavy underneath his weight, his exhaustion creeping up his legs in dark, thick tendrils that grasped at his calves and dragged him further into the ground. The released anxiety returned to his shoulders, sitting burdensome across them and nagging for his attention as he rummaged through his sock drawer for his orb.

 

“You’re hiding your orb in your sock drawer?” Baekhyun laughed.

“Hey! It’s not like any of you are brave enough to go in there,” he said. “No one will think to look for my super powers hidden in a sock drawer.”

 

“No one would think you’re that dumb, Jongdae.”

“Hey!” Jongdae punched Baekhyun in the shoulder, the smile across his face impossible to resist as his friend shrieked and scurried from his room. He called after him. “At least I’ll never forget where it is!”

 

Jongdae pulled the golden orb from the drawer before sliding it shut, balancing it in his flattened palm. Minseok did the same, his orb a striking blue.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Gotta be.”

 

Jongdae shut his eyes, a fuzzy, numbing, golden blanket wrapping around him. His nerves jolted as lightning shuddered throughout his entire body, a storm swelling to a dangerous crescendo inside of him as the orb in his hand dissolved into a golden dust, his skin glowing. The rain roared in his ears in time with the throbbing of his heart, the eye of the storm around his navel as the rest of his body rippled with the storm’s torment. Thunder claps jolted throughout his entire body, pounding in his fingertips and toes as lightning struck, the edges of his hair singing and his lips shaking like mad. The storm tore him apart layer by layer, only to refortify his skin with strengthened layers of steel. Electricity danced across his skin.

As the golden mist dissolved, Jongdae’s orb was gone from his hand, and his pajamas were gone, replaced with a plain white shirt and green artillery jacket. Minseok stood beside him, his skin still radiating a dull arctic blue. He met his gaze.

 

Without exchanging any other words, power and strength surging through their veins and tingling behind the pads of their fingers and their palms, they ran from their room, Sehun taking the lead as they tore from the dorm. The video game continued to blare from the TV, the empty, metallic voice chanting “Game Over” over and over again, fading into the distance as Jongdae sprinted down the hall.

Nothing compared to the power high Jongdae received each time his orb dissolved into his skin, the most dangerous aspects of nature themselves dancing across his skin, lightning rapidly firing throughout his body, shocking him with intense bouts of indescribable power that burned at his hands. As they ran, ducking down the staircase to avoid other students, Jongdae extended his palm, small, golden bolts dancing across the skin and curling around his knuckles like exquisite, priceless jewelry: jewelry he would not have if it weren’t for him.

 

“How did Suho get cornered like that?”

 

Minseok and Sehun were running ahead of him.

 

“He was in class. The robot exploded the east side of the building.”

 

Jongdae swallowed. “Is he alright? Where is he?”

 

“He’s hurt, and his orb is gone. He can’t change.”

 

He didn’t know what he would do if he ever lost his orb. Since he first cradled it in his hands, the warmth and electricity around it shocking and tickling his skin, Jongdae knew he could never be without it. With the power of the orb coursing through his veins, he had the power to be who he wanted to be. He had the power to protect his brothers, and all others he cared for. With the orb, he was someone other than a college student with no clear major in mind. With the orb, he was Chen, a comedic boy of confidence and suave. He was no longer Jongdae- crippled with anxiety and self-doubt.

 

With or without the orb, Jongdae was the same at the base. Underneath Chen, there was still Jongdae. Under the layers of steel and electricity hid someone afraid and guilty- someone too scared to act, too scared to fight.

 

“Here.”

 

They rounded the corner of their dormitory building, the Psychology building just across the square. From where he stood, Chen saw the destruction. The entire front side of the building was reduced to rubble, bricks, steel beams, and frayed industrial wiring lying in giant heaps of piling debris. Students came crawling from the wreckage, others running screaming from an undestroyed entrance from the back. Firefighters, policemen, and bystanders gathered by the wreckage, the screaming loud, but not enough to conceal the sound of alien gun-fire and a familiar whirring that sent Chen’s stomach rocketing up into his throat. He sputtered and choked, left in the dust as Minseok and Sehun ran straight for the wreckage, ducking and hiding in the giant clouds of dust that rolled from the building, concealing them from prying eyes.

 

Chen followed close behind.

 

“Kai! Do something!”

 

He slipped in a small hole in the wreckage- the large lecture hall filled with smoke and basked in a crimson light. Chen couldn’t tell where the robot was.

 

“Sehun! On your right!”

 

He cried out as a giant mass flew by his vision and crashed into a row of desks beside him. He turned, and saw Sehun sprawled on top of shattered and cracked desktops, his eyes drawn shut. He turned to help him, his blood rushing in his ears like the deafening crash of a tsunami wave. He knelt beside his comrade, hands fluttering as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, where blood gathered, a thin line dwindling down Sehun’s cheek from his temple.

 

“Chen, go,” he pleaded, shoving his hands away. He sat up, craning his neck. “Suho needs us. Go.”
 

Chen stared at him, eyes wide. He heard his brothers fighting behind him, and he his heel, running through the smoke, closer towards the blinding crimson light. His hands began to tingle, and suddenly, he wielded his own rifle, the stock held tightly in his hand. As he ran, he was finally able to make out the egg-shape of the robot through the heavy smoke. He turned up his rifle, firing blind blasts toward the outline.

 

The lanky, metallic claw arm s from the smoke and appeared in front of him, snapping at the air in front of him, blindly grasping for him. Chen shot at the arm, only for the bullets to ricochet from the metal. Expected.

 

He tossed aside the gun. It would only reappear at his disposal later. He pressed his palms flat together, the room’s smoke darkening and storm clouds circling and forming above them, the flat surface a space gray that hung heavy over the entire devastated lecture hall. The clouds began to rumble, and Chen shoved his hands down, kneeling on one knee to shove his hands on the ground. A thunder clap rippled through the entire room, and the debris under the robot’s weight began to shift, the sharp, clawed feet losing their footing and getting caught in a pile of bricks. Chen’s veins inflamed, the power pouring through them as adrenaline pumped throughout his entire body. Each sensation was heightened as, along with the rippling thunder, of lightning jutted down upon it’s body, the metal denting and abrupting with black, charred spots.

 

Chen spotted Kyungsoo creeping behind the robot, his eyes a bright purple that rivaled the red that reflected from the smoke and poured all over the room. He lifted his foot, stomping it, the sound lost in the air, only for the ground to split from underneath it, earth splitting and swallowing up the entirety of the debris, dragging the robot down along with it. In an attempt to catch itself, the robot flung out its claw. Chen’s breath heaved from his lungs as the thick-set metal plowed into his side. He flew back. He felt like he was flying.

 

Jongdae wasn’t Chen. He wished he was, he truly did. He wished he could live with a gun slung against his hip and an honest cocky smirk plastered across his face. He wished he could be the hero his brothers, hopefully, knew him to be- the hero that Baekhyun hoped he would be.

Chen was a construction of Jongdae’s insecurities- an identity that left him cheering and joking before his enemies while his brothers panicked and scrambled. In the face of this danger, Jongdae would crumple, seek to hide behind Kai or Sehun’s broad shoulders. Jongin was Kai. Junmyeon was Suho. They all fit whatever their orbs created them to be- the hero it construted.

 

Jongdae was nothing.

 

He his head snapped back against the wall, his vision going black.

“Jongdae!”