A/N: i've never written in third person so i keep accidently start with "i" so i apologize if i missed any when i was editing

TWO

Jungkook knew that he was being followed the second that he stepped outside the door of the bar. It was early morning and there were several city goers braving the brightening day. Heavily armed, of course, Jungkook didn’t spot a single person without a form of weapon. Guns glinted in the sunrise, blades drawn in unpracticed hands.

It was all for the reanimated. Their appearances in cities had only grown since the resurgence three years ago. For a short while, the city of Exanimis hid in their homes, terrified while the government did whatever they could to purge the city of the undead. Nothing material could kill them. The guns and knives could wound them and buy the people time, but it was only what the government had deemed illegal could kill them. After losing almost a quarter of their people, the higher government of Exanimis turned to sorcery, black magic, borderline exorcism.

But magic as strong as the magic need to kill the undead was too powerful for just one person. It drove them mad. This type of magic required a partnership, a bond between two people that were carriers of magic. Two people that were not magic users by birth, but had the ability to do so in their genetic material. The great, great grandson of half a warlock they had told Jungkook when he had enlisted. It wasn’t much, but carriers were rare and they had already found someone to be his partner.

He’d accepted the mission, created the bond, and lost everything but his life.

And now the same people followed him into a dark alleyway just before his apartment building. Pulling out the knife from his boot, he whirled around and grasped the man’s expensive suit jacket. Slamming him into the wet brick building, he pressed the blade of the knife into the man’s throat.

In the man’s favor, he did not squirm. He didn’t even seem bothered.

“Via,” he said calmly. Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows but not two seconds later he was yanked back, the knife dropping him his hands and he was shoved chest first into the brick wall beside the man with his arms twisted behind his back. He blinked, the hand around his wrist and the one firmly on his shoulder were small and cold. Female.

Before he can observe anything else, the man that he had attacked pushes himself off the wall.

“Christ, Jungkook, you weren’t always like this, what the hell have you been up to?” His face in unfamiliar, but his voice is all too.

“Janson?” Jungkook pushes the person off him and they let go without much effort. “What the happened to you?” He glanced the man up and down. The man that he remembered as his handler looked nothing like the man standing in front of him. Clad in completely a completely white suit, even his teeth look unfamiliar when he smiled.

“It’s Director Roberts now,” Janson corrected, rubbing his neck.

“And so, what, they ed up your face?” Jungkook asks, resisting the urged to pinch his skin and see if it would come off. Before, Janson was a fairly good-looking guy, but now it was as if his features were mellowed out, an attempt to reform something familiar, but failed in every way possible.

“No, I had corrective surgery because of what I did to get to Director,” Jason said. Jungkook frowned.

“What happened to you, man?” Jungkook asked.

“The same thing that eventually happens to any angel,” Janson said with a shrug. “Death or next best thing.”

Jungkook’s frown increased.

“What about you, squirt? Who roughed you up?” Janson asked. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when Jeon Jungkook was decorated with