Jihoon lulled into consciousness once, very briefly. He pried open tired eyes, glued together with gunk, dazed and confused as he caught the gaze of one of the men in masks above him, who stared down without emotion. They didn’t speak a word to him, casually placing a mask over his mouth to hush his moans of pain. After a few deep breaths of whatever drugs they were pumping through those plastic tubes, Jihoon was back out cold.

His mind was a dark, ever-burning garbage fire of nightmares through the time he spent unconscious, however long that was. He was trapped in constant battle, getting tossed around the city like a ragdoll. At first it was the Sergeants words which echoed through his head and prompted dark, endless beatings from enraged fists, replaying their final battle over and over in a display of mockery.

However, suddenly, it wasn’t his enemy that he was fighting. It was just him, with limbs adorned with casts, in his favorite grey sweater, getting ruthlessly thrown around by the very robotic suit he’d used to get by for all these years… If he’d taken the time to think about it, perhaps these fever dreams could be a metaphor for the battle waging within himself, his true self fighting against the persona he’d created. He stared into the face display of the Vulcan from the concrete he laid in, feeling an odd emotion bubble up in his chest. Looking down at his own figure, his sweater was gone. Replaced with tight leather and metal gauntlets. The floor below him crumbled, morphing gold and clinking around him, gold coins raining around his figure.

The Vulcans fists had stopped in that moment, now simply staring into him. Jihoon thought with a bitterness in his mouth that, he shouldn’t have to do this. He wanted to take control of himself, he needed to be in control of who he was and what he wanted. He shouldn’t just lie down and take a beating... Jihoon stood up from where he’d been laying and pointed a wrist towards the Vulcan, the gauntlet adorning his arm morphed into a loaded crossbow. He aimed, taking a breath of resolve, before shooting the arrow dead center.

The Vulcan collapsed onto its back with a thud, coins crashing away and clinking against the ground around it. Jihoon walked towards it, resting his hand against the entrance of the suit. It scanned his palm, authorizing entrance.

He was going to take back his own identity.

“You said… you’d always come back. I always believed that you would.”

Jihoon’s heart dropped. He hadn’t even thought of who might be waiting inside the suit when he’d taken the shot, but as a wide-eyed Chan stared up at him, reaching for him with shaking hands, blood seeping from the wound that he had inflicted, Jihoon woke up with a gasp.

He clutched at his chest and breathed hard for a good minute. He wiped the back of his hand against his forehead, slick with sweat from head to toe despite his body trembling. As he gathered himself, Jihoon realized with a slow look around, that he was no longer in the hospital.

“Rise and shine sleepy-head!”

Jihoon looked up, recoiling back at the sudden close proximity, as he realized there was a man draping himself down from the bunk above him, smiling mischievously. Jihoon’s mouth hung open, a bit bewildered.

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re mute,” the boy whined. “You have no Idea how long I’ve been waiting for a new roomie.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, tensing as the boy came down from the top bunk, taking a casual seat next to him on his bed.

“I’m not mute…” He explained, skootching a bit further away. “Just, confused.”

The boy shot him a look. “What? You hit your head or something?” he observed the bandage wrapped around his skull with a pitying whistle. “Must have been some fight… Well, no worries. As your cell mate, I’ll help you settle in.”

“Cell-mate… So, I’m in prison right now?”

He fell against the wall in laughter. “well no sherlock! What, did you think they’d just give you a warning after catching you?”

Jihoon clasped his mouth shut, head aching. He thought back to the fight with a knit of his brows. He’d done everything correctly… right?

The boy leaned forward, whispering. “So, what did you do?”

“Huh?”

“Well, this isn’t an ordinary prison, you must have done some crazy to get locked up in these parts. I’ve been here for a while so… it’s hard for me keep up with new Villains and such.”

Jihoon took note of his expression, honest and forefront. If he had any powers, they were being suppressed by the odd collar strapped around his neck. He didn’t seem to be a threat to him, so he might as well get on someone’s good side for now. Jihoon cleared his throat, speaking simply. “Bank Heists, mostly.”

“Oh…” Somehow, he seemed disappointed. “Well, then I guess you must have killed someone, right? Anything like that?”

Jihoon shook his head, feeling odd. What level of Security was he in?

Before he’d gotten the chance to ask, Jihoon jumped at a blaring alarm horn, watching with wide eyes as a small peak hole of the cell-door shot open automatically. Just the mouth behind it was visible for Jihoon to see.

“Number 7048, step onto the yellow line with your hands in the air and your feet spread shoulder width apart.”

When Jihoon, feeling bewildered, hadn’t moved, his cell-buddy clapped his shoulder, giving him a shove towards the door. “That’s you!”

Once in position, the door swung open, multiple men suited up in protective uniforms flooded into the room, clasping odd-looking metal cuffs to his hands, and ankles. Once suited up, the tip of a truncheon jabbed his back painfully.

“Walk.”
 

~

Jeonghan sat before Seungcheol, flipping through pages of the file in his hand, humming as he scanned through info as if it were his first-time laying eyes on it. Of course, he already knew everything about Jihoon, he wrote the file himself, after all.

“So? Anything?”

Jeonghan adjusted his glasses, reciting the information written. “Park Jihoon, 21 years old, born in Busan Korea in 1996, 164cm tall and 120 pounds. He claims to be powerless, but has displayed signs of supernatural mechanical intuition, or other similar technology quirks. We just have basic information on him.”

He his chin in consideration, seemingly disbelieving. “And you’re sure he’s never registered in our prison’s system before? With a different persona?”

“No, this is his first offence, Mr. Choi.” Jeonghan peered up past his glasses at him, wondering. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, just what is it about him that caught your interest? If my memory is correct, you’ve never followed up on any of your imprisoned foe before, yes?”

Jeonghan watched as his gaze shifted. There wasn’t malice in his expression, nor impatience. His reason for digging couldn’t be simple curiosity, could it?

Seungcheol racked his brain, that image in his mind was so clear, he could have sworn he’d met that boy before. But just where? “It’s just, when I was fighting him, I thought I might have known him from somewhere. I thought maybe he was an old enemy who picked up a new persona, or even a hero from the system gone rogue… Are you sure there’s nothing in his file?”

Jeonghan felt his heart spiking in his chest. Huh, so the brawn for brains Sergeant is a bit cleverer than he put on. Luckily, Jeonghan’s plan was foolproof, so there was no way he’d put two and two together.

“No, I’m sorry Mr. Choi. This is his first appearance and first time being incarcerated in our prisons. I also compared his DNA with both the hero’s and villains registered in the system, but no matches.”

Seungcheol hummed, scratching at his chin. “What about someone who isn’t in the system?”

Jeonghan froze. “Such as?”

“Well, like the Vulcan. He wasn’t in the system at all right? Is it possible that..”

Jeonghan placed his papers on the desk, looking up at Seungcheol with a smile. “Well, if Jihoon didn’t have a presence in the system, its’ very possible he and the Vulcan could be connected.” He explained, placing his hands on his lap before Seungcheol could notice them shake. “However, he is, and the Vulcan is not. “

His expression fell. “Yeah, you’re right. That wouldn’t make any sense, anyways.”

“Well, what was it you found familiar about him?”

Seungcheol thought back, feeling a strange emotion spike up in his chest. “His eyes. I swear I’ve seen them before.”

Jeonghan smiled, relieved. “Well then its certainly not related to the Vulcan. Despite being a villain, the Paladin is also a regular person. You could have met him before; he did live in Seoul, after all.”

“You’re right, I just…” Seungcheol stopped himself. He just what? What would he even do if he knew? He’s already locked up, anyways.

Jeonghan smiled, teasing. “Is he just as good looking as the rumors suggested? Perhaps it’s not that you recognized him, but that you’ve also fallen for his charm?”

Seungcheol sputtered. “Wh-what? Are people still talking about that? He’s a criminal!”

“Well,” Jeonghan spoke with a smirk. “The whole world saw you carrying him bridal-style out of the bank. That’s quite the treatment for a ‘criminal’, Mr. Choi.”

Seungcheol’s ears were red, despite crossing his arms and putting up a front of indifference. “I’d rather he not die before he gets to prison. He was badly injured in our fight, you know...”

“I see.” Jeonghan didn’t press on, for fear of the Sergeant getting truly offended. Although his reactions were truly delectable. “Well, if you really are curious, why don’t you just meet him?”

Seungcheol quit his grumbling, eyes widening slightly. “How?”

“You’ve never asked before so I guess nobody told you. You do have the authority to meet prisoners, you just need to tell the warren before-hand.” Jeonghan opened his file again, pulling out his prisoner information papers and holding it forward for the Sergeant. “Actually, he’s scheduled for interrogation once he wakes up from sedation. Why don’t you make a request to stand in?”

Seungcheol took the paper, not without hesitation. “When will he wake up?”

“He did.” Jeonghan stated, smiling mischievously. “This morning, actually. You should head over there quickly.”

-

Jihoon sat upon a metal chair, hands and ankles bound in place, and the odd collar around his neck tethered to the headrest by a chain, effectively securing him in place. The walls around him were one-way mirrors. Just as the doctor had told him would happen, it must be time for his interrogation. Despite just waking up after-apparently-several days, he attempted with all his brain power to remember what he had to say in response to their questions.

Without warning, one of the mirrors had opened like a door, and behind it came a group of well-dressed men in black. One man, who stood out in a navy-blue getup sat before him in a leather chair, flipping through the file labeled ‘Paladin.’

“So, Park Jihoon. How are you feeling?”

“I’m tired and sore.” Jihoon spoke, keeping his face neutral as he gave everyone around him a quick once-over. The man before him was young and handsome, with sharp, cat-like eyes and a refreshing smile. He must be the representative for Sergeant Coups. The doctor had mentioned that he never went in to the interrogation himself. Mostly due to his hatred for criminals, and his lack of physical restraint.

“Do you know why you’re here? Any memory of what happened?”

Jihoon sighed. “I remember, I didn’t hit my head that hard, sir.”

He seemed to be a bit flustered at the ‘sir’, but Jihoon feigned ignorance, staring across the table with dull eyes.

“Well, my name is Jisoo Hong. I’m here as Sergeant Coups representative for today, but no need for the formalities, this is just a routine meeting.” He flipped through his papers, reading over his information. “I’m going to repeat the information from your file, so just let me know if anything is incorrect.”

Jihoon nodded, writhing slightly as he looked around the room. Not that he was planning on escaping, but it was never a bad idea to have a backup plan. The un-named mob of bodyguards looked harmless, they probably didn’t care to waste any superhero’s time with him, since he didn’t have his gauntlets with him.

“Okay, let’s get started. Your given name is Park Jihoon, you were born on November 22nd, 1996, Yes?”

“Yes sir.”

Jisoo shifted his gaze, not bothering to fight him on the formalities. “You were born in Busan, Korea, put up for adoption at birth, and raised in an orphanage until the age of 12. After that the orphanage seemed to have shut down, and you went missing and were off the radar for quite a few years until recently making your appearance as the Paladin. Is that all correct?”

He hummed in agreeance. The doctor sure was thorough when making his fake backstory, and it wasn’t too far from the truth, so it was easy for him to memorize.

“Moving on, you also stated that-“ A knock sounded at the door, prompting Jisoo to stop what he was doing. “Uh, sorry, one moment please.”

Unfortunately, Jihoon wasn’t an owl, so as Jisoo and the others moved to the door to see who had interrupted, Jihoon wriggled in his seat uncomfortably.

“Sir? Wha- What are you doing here?”

Jihoon stopped moving. Had a higher-up come?

“Uh, I’m here for the interrogation.”

, that sounds like-

“But Sergeant, you…”

“Can I take over, Jisoo?”

“Oh, well…”

“Did I come too late?”

Jisoo’s voice cracked in his panic. “No! We only just started, actually... Uh, well, would you like me to walk you through the interrogation process?”

The echo of footsteps came up behind him, gaining volume until Jihoon felt the presence of a shadow leering above him. He didn’t look, his heart thudding as the Sergeant seemed to gaze down at him.

“No,” he stated firmly. “I want to interrogate him alone.”

Jihoon wished he could plead with Mr. Hong to stay, but he held his tongue, choosing instead to stare at his lap with shaking eyes, listening as he, and the rest of the suited men complied with the Sergeants request and trudged out of the room. As the door clicked shut, the sergeant took a seat in front of him, laying his file back down on the table.

“Remember me, Paladin?”

Jihoon raised his gaze, finally, taking in the sergeant’s appearance with a tentative once-over. He was in clothes far more casual than he had expected. A white button-up shirt with the cuffs rolled up past his forearms, and black office pants. His infamous silver hair and piercing blue eyes were disguised with shades of brown and black. But besides the fact that he seemed obviously angry, and forgetting about the sweat of his palms and the rapid-fast beating of his heart, Jihoon was more-so impressed by how good-looking he was.

You know, without that goofy spandex suit.

He cleared his throat, throwing Jihoon out of his daze “Are you going to answer me or not?”

“How could I forget you, Sergeant?”

An air of silence fell, leaving the two of them exchanging gazes like a test of nerves. Jihoon willed the bead of sweat forming against his brow not to fall, but the dark eyes examining him as he sat strapped to a metal chair did little to ease his nerves. It was far easier messing with the Sergeant when they were on equal footing. In this case, Jihoon had no means of fighting back if things got physical.

Jihoon coughed away his nerves, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to look casual. “So, are you going to interrogate me, or we just going to stare at each other? Because honestly, I’m fine with either one.”

He scoffed, shifting his gaze down and opening up his file. After a moment, something seemed to have caught his eye. “So, why are you lying about your powers?”

“Excuse me?” he quirked an eyebrow.

Seungcheol recited in a skeptical voice. “The prisoner has denied having powers, but displays signs of either super-intelligence, mechanical intuition, or mechanical manipulation.” He looked up through thick black lashes, dubious. “So, which one is it?”

Jihoon sighed, avoiding the Sergeants piercing gaze as he stared off to the mirrors at his side. “I didn’t lie. As far as I’m aware, I don’t have any powers. And really, anyone could have done what I did with the right tools.”

Sergeant leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as he stared. “You mean to tell me you built those morphing gloves with normal intellect alone?”

“Bingo, Sergeant. And they’re gauntlets, not gloves”

The sergeant’s expression was suspicious. He stared at Jihoon as if he were transparent, insecurities and doubts on full display. Jihoon felt a shiver crawl along his spine as the sergeant’s eyes raked over him.

“You expect me to believe that?” He retorted. “Some of our most sophisticated technology was made with tech-based superpowers. Your ‘gauntlets’ not only resembled some of the tools they made, their team even called your design an improvement.”

Despite actually telling the truth for once, his heart was thumping like a rabbit. “If you want me to prove it, go ahead and make me. That is, if you have the means to.”

Most superpowers were obvious, so they could be proven or disproven with simple tests. But Jihoon was different. Even if he were lying, it didn’t matter. Sergeant -head had no way to prove otherwise.

“Then explain to me this, paladin. How did you manipulate the media to hide your face? And How did you hijack the bank security systems?” Seungcheol leaned closer, intruding Jihoon’s little bubble of personal space with a dark expression. Jihoon found himself holding his breath as the Sergeant closed in on him, heart in his throat. “Not to mention, the day I captured you, informant headquarters had a security breach. Was that your doing too? Don’t tell me it’s just because you’re smart, paladin.”

Jihoon watched a light deep within his eyes glow blue, a sign of anger that he was all-too familiar with. However, he kept his face neutral, clenching his fists to ease their shake. “Everything’s electronic these days, Sergeant. And everything electronic has a weak point, I’m just good at exploiting them. Even if I had powers, I wouldn’t waste them on such menial things.” He smirked, matching the Sergeants gaze without hesitation, leaning his head in as much as the tether attached to his collar would allow. He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. “However, I had nothing to do with the Pager thing. Sounds to me like the almighty Mansae isn’t as secure as I once thought.”

Their noses were nearly touching now, breath audible between them as they waged their little battle of nerves. Finally, with a huff of defeat, the Sergeant sat back again, his suspicions satiated only somewhat.

“So, why’d you do it?” He questioned.

Jihoon chuckled. “Do I need a motive?”

He rolled his eyes. What a cocky bastard. “You know what I mean, Paladin. The media was going nuts trying to figure out how to label you. What did you do with the money you stole?”

His gaze held, eyes folding into crescents as he spoke, and a teasing tone in his voice. “If I told you I gave it all to charity, would you believe me?”

“Who the hell would believe such garbage?”

Jihoon scoffed. “As you said so yourself, everyone’s trying to figure me out.” His eyed shifted, watching the Sergeant with an almost knowing expression. “Well what about you, Sergeant? Why do you think I did it, then?”

He huffed, feeling his frustration brewing. The boy before him had such a strange air about him. Seungcheol knew now that it wasn’t just his eyes, there was something else about him that felt so familiar. Every little teasing expression, his quips, his taunts. Why did they make him feel so annoyed? He barely knew this boy...

Seungcheol crossed his arms over his chest, frowning as his eyes raked over him again. Somehow, he kind of suited the gaudy yellow prisoner’s uniform he was wearing, but with such a petite stature, Seungcheol couldn’t help but feel the chains and collars were all a little overkill, especially if he was telling the truth about his powers. He was rather innocent-looking, with straight black hair, pale skin, and hooded brown eyes which glared forward with childish insolence. He was offputtingly… cute, in a way.

Seungcheol stood up in shock at his own thought, slamming a hand down on the table as he rose to his feet. He looked down at where his palms pressed into the metal table, which was now completely bent out of shape. He lifted his hand, reaching the Paladins gaze, whose eyes were wide in shock.

“Uh…. We’re done here.”

He his heels to leave, tossing the file off to a bewildered Jisoo as he walked out of the interrogation room, feeling his face burn.

Once he was out of sight, Seungcheol turned a corner and slapped his hands against his cheeks, cursing himself. Was he insane?? Did he just think that criminal was cute?

Obviously, he was just out of his mind.

Seungcheol audibly sighed. Forget about it. In the very least, he could relax knowing he’d never have to deal with that guy again. At least not for the next several years.

-

Jihoon stared at the metal table in front of him, which had caved in on the impact of the Sergeants palms. The sweat on his brow he’d been willing away had trickled down, dropping against his lap. After a moment of listening to the erratic pattering of his heart, heavy against the silence, the door opened again. Jihoon didn’t look, but immediately let out a breath of relief when Jisoo sat before him.

Judging by their little exchange earlier, and the expression on his face now, Jihoon just knew Sergeant Coups coming and interrogating him had not been a part of the plan. Luckily it seemed like even the mighty Sergeant stupid didn’t have the authority to execute prisoners.

Otherwise, it would have been Jihoon’s face instead of the table.

“Well, Sergeant covered most of it, anyways. So just one final question.”

Jihoon looked up expectantly. “Shoot.”

“With your crimes, you’re looking at about 20 years to life. But well, according to new protocol, after serving your minimum 6 month sentence in prison, you are eligible to join the CLAP program. Although you claim you don’t have powers, your abilities could be of great use to your country if utilized for good. So, if you are willing to join the criminal rehabilitation program, you may be able to go on probation after that 6 month period. Are you interested?”

Jisoo smiled at him expectantly, clicking his pen at the ready.

Just as Chan had said before. Who in their right mind would turn down such an opportunity? He smiled back, the thudding of his heart steadying.

“Sign me up.”