Contains swear words, fight scenes, and unpleasant images.

Please don't forget to read the previous chapter. They both are NEW. 

Also due to the size, from now on 'D-93 Factbook' will be placed on a separate chapter, feel free to refer back to it. I also decided to start a 'Rule book', it has placed in order rules which have been mentioned across the story so far.

“Combat team takes the east side,” Namjoon stated over the slight commotion, his fingers pointing at the virtual map yet his eyes still lingering onto Seokjin who was brushing another set of concerned mumbles from Mark. 

Mark was physically lingering around Seokjin with his fingers in a panicked manner flying around different things. One moment he was holding a first aid kit, the other moment he was holding a blanket before deciding that throwing himself into Seokjin’s arms was the only solution. Seokjin sounded a slight groan when Mark’s unexpected force hits him. Forcing Namjoon to quickly stand up again, his fingers gripping Mark’s shirt tightly before he was pulling him away from Seokjin with a hiss. 

“Mark stop!”

“But, but – ” Yet instead of getting a hint, of leaving Seokjin alone, Mark continued to try and pass him different things, his eyes staring at him in guilt. It was only when a small smile appeared on Seokjin’s face, his palm gently patting Mark’s head, did he slow down. 

“Mark stop, it's fine. I’m healed. It wasn’t that deep anyway.”

“Well now that this drama is over, Joon you were saying?” Jimin asked, his hands finally leaving the empty plate alone. The moment Seokjin told us he was fine, everyone apart from Mark decided to sit down and continue to enjoy their breakfast. Well, I could not force myself to eat a bit, no matter how appetising those pancakes looked. 

The pad of my fingers gently itched closer to Yoongi’s tight before I decide to rest my palm over his upper tight. His jeans fabric feels surprisingly smooth. I expected Yoongi to react, yet he simply continued to ignore me, his eyes menacingly staring at Namjoon, no doubt his mind running millions of plans and options for the combat team. Now I was left bored. There was no fun in playing a game that had only one player.

“Combat team will operate on the east side, try to get some information out at least. Unless combat is the only option, then inform us.” Namjoon finally sank back down onto his chair, everyone’s attention falling onto him as he was trying to explain the plan. My mind slowly zoomed out when he turned to talk to the recitation team. Missions no longer caused me to break down, perhaps that Jinmi did die during my first ever mission, but for some reason that morning a slight fear was lingering in my bones. Something was wrong, I could not shake the feeling off that something big was going to happen. I could not – 

I felt Yoongi’s surprisingly warm fingers intertwine my ones, our hands resting over his upper tight. His gaze fell onto me with a questioning gaze. Yet I could not help myself but to silently enjoy his attention, Just for a brief moment, when my mind and body were burning up, when it all becomes too much, just for a brief second I allowed myself to forget about any games. I got what I wanted anyway, so for a moment, I pretended for it to be fine. 

However soon enough that unsettlingly feeling continued to spread out. Something was wrong. But just what? 

We all knew that Foxit was filled with rebels, there was no way they would simply give us any information. If Commander Heinous was truly working with the rebels, they will attack and we will only end up attracting attention to ourselves. Game over. Yet why was I feeling so uneasy? As if we were missing something.

 
“Now I trust you will make sensible decisions, remember why we are doing this for. Just follow your sub-unit leaders if anything becomes unclear.” Namjoon finished, his fingers grabbing onto the oracle glasses before he was passing them around, Yoongi’s fingers slipping away when he takes the oracle glasses. My fingers instead gripped the fabric of my sleeve cuff. My mind wiring impulses. There were four of us, it was true Mark was inexperienced and Jungkook was young but they all showed that they can hold their own. Mark could be a liability but there were three Captains perfectly capable of ensuring that he would stay alive. So why?

Why was my heart beginning to speed up? Who was I worried about? 

“So in combat teams case, since Yoongi is their leader I guess they will end up obliterating the whole east side right?” Hoseok stated, earning a few chuckles around the table, my hazy head slowly turned towards Yoongi who has been surprisingly quiet the whole time. 

“Seok focus on your team.” Jungkook quickly intercepted, his big eyes gleaming lightheartedly at Hoseok before his attention was turned towards Mark. A slight scowl appeared on his lips as he watched Mark. Maybe it was best if I would stick close to Mark. There were plenty of rebels that wielded aptitudes too. And just when my mind began to agree, my heart slowing down the realisation of me caring about people who betrayed me sank in. Did it matter if Mark died? We all had basic hacking skills, so his loss wouldn’t be significant. So why yet again, I found myself caring? Caring only brought more baggage, more emotions, exposed me which made it easier for people to betray me.  

Yoongi remained quiet. A glance at his direction showed that he seemed to have been in the same dilemma as me. We did not have many leads, our options were limited and frankly, we were running out of time. The fact that the more we used our aptitudes meant the worse it would get was daunting.

 
“Well, maybe Jungkook should be the co-leader just-in-case,” Hoseok said, his lips lifting into a small playful smirk. His eyes zoomed onto Yoongi who finally seemed to have come back from a deep trance. His tired eyes flashed at Hoseok before he said;

“Jinmi is my co-leader.” His words caused a small commotion when Jimin and Mark both at the same time gasped. They weren’t serious but their overdramatic nature only made Yoongi scoff, his forearms resting against the tabletop. My oracle glasses resting next to his.

“Why is Jinmi the co-leader of the combat team?” Jimin quickly hissed, his fingers good-humouredly flipping some tissues at Jungkook who gripped onto Yoongi as he was trying to avoid getting hit by the tissues. Jimin quickly stood up, making his way over to hiding Jungkook before throwing a whole pack of tissues at him, then daring to cling onto Yoongi, causing me to move further away when I almost end up getting greeted by Jimin's elbow.

“Why are you even getting involved? You’re not part of the combat team!”

However just as the light humour was beginning to slow down, Seokjin cleaned up the plates, and then waved both gripping Jimin and Jungkook off with a quick ‘Yoongi will hit you both if you will continue to cling to him.’ A surprisingly quiet Taehyung stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. 

Hoseok quickly intercepted, pulling Taehyung to sit back down just when Taehyung was about to leave, his face forming a huge grin “I still think that sounds like favouritism on Yoongi’s part. Don’t you remember the saying? Never mix pleasure with business.” 

And just like that the whole table minus me, Yoongi, and Taehyung erupted into laughter yet again. Maybe he was trying to prevent a few of us from ending up becoming too nervous, too unprepared for what was to come. But the laughter soon enough ended nervously. The room erupted into unfamiliar tension. Taehyung was the first one to leave the table when Hoseok was no longer holding him back. Taehyung walked back to a free bedroom before slamming the door shut. 

When some of us were forced to learn how to forget about feelings, how to deal with any and every mission given, Taehyung never did. Taehyung never wanted this. Taehyung was too sensitive, too caring, and no matter how much he tried to pretend that he was over it all, that he was a Captain in his own right, a Captain because he decided to become one, the truth was different. We all had our dark sides, just most of us knew how to control them. 

But not Taehyung. 

I found myself standing up at the same time as Jimin. Our gaze met each other before we watched the closed bedroom door. Taehyung never wanted this life. He never signed up for it. He never had the choice, it was either this or starving to death. So for his 'protect mechanism' something dark was allowed to escape, the problem was that it was never when Taehyung wanted it.

 
“Tae will stay with the pioneer sub-team as usual, don’t worry you two.” Namjoon’s voice boomed loud and clear, yet the image of Taehyung’s shaking frame last year, the night when it all went wrong decided to sneak back in. When Yoongi was bad from day one. Taehyung was bad when darkness took over. 

“Just focus on your sub-teams, and try to stay alive.” And that was it, last words which Namjoon spoke before we all got dismissed from the table.

At ten in the morning exactly we all separated, silent nods and wishes of ‘good luck’ left our lips as we each made our way to Foxit. 

My eyes were forced to look away from unusually quiet Taehyung who was standing in between Namjoon and Seokjin. They stayed behind, at our base just in case everything will go wrong. It was as if a calm before the storm, and it probably was. 

No matter how experienced we were, this was truly life and death. One wrong move and we either get drained, or Commander Heinous ends up cornering us.

X

Light shone through the heavy branches, as Mark walked next to me, his arms brushing against mine ever so often as his eyes continued to stay alert. Yoongi with Jungkook decided to check out the old buildings littered around the place. Our separation happened as soon as he deducted that the place was completely abandoned. It made sense if anyone was there ready to attack they most likely would be hidden in the old buildings.

Foxit was surprising a ghost town, at least the east side was. It was eerily quiet, causing Mark to continue to stick close to me like a child. The street that we were on still had the old-fashioned street lamps, broken glass laid at the edge of the road. It was almost as if many years ago the city was forced to evacuate leaving this place a complete mess. Old rusty cars abounded right in the middle of the roads. Clothes were scattered around. 

“What the hell happened here? It looks like some sort of apocalypse happened in the past.” And for once Mark wasn’t being funny, it did look like that. The building columns crumbled, as the surprisingly warm sunshine illuminated some relics in the distance, which caught my eyes. My feet pulled me closer towards them, the oracle glasses resting at the ridge of my nose bridge, as my live footage continued to be transmitted back to our temporary base where the pioneer team stayed behind.  

“I don’t have a good feeling about this Jinmi, maybe we should wait for Yoongi and Jungkook to come back? We wouldn’t want to get lost.” Mark whispered, his hands gripping onto my sleeve but I quickly shook him off. 

The closer we got the wider the ancient ruins continued to stretch along. It was crumbled barely standing but still defying the gravity. Just what was that place? I never saw anything close to it. There were overgrown trees at the backside of the ruins, almost keeping them secret. Some ancient words were written, my feet stopping for a second so I could look at them closer, they seemed so unusual, my index finger pushing the oracle glasses back up the bridge of my eyes as I quickly scanned my irises. The screen splitting into two as I say;

 
“Take photos and send them to Joon.”

...INITIALIZING...

... SEARCHING ...

'Welcome Jinmi, sending photos to Namjoon?’

YES

'Message sent'

'Log off?'

YES

'GOODBYE JINMI'

Just when my feet began to pull me to another part of the ruins, my screens turning back to their original live transmission state, a flash of metal sparkled, reflecting the sunlight before I was pulling Mark away with me within seconds. My body jumped out of the way of the fast-thrown dagger, that quickly sank into the place where I was standing just bare moments away. My fingers in an autopilot way gripping my gun, as my eyes turned half white, my aptitude responding to the sudden danger as second nature. The virtual oracle glasses sliding down my nose bridge. 

“ what was that Jinm-” Mark’s words were cut off when two shadows jumped out of the ruins. Within seconds I had a sword blocked with the barrel of the gun, my body getting pushed back from the sheer force of the swing. When my eyes fixed on the intruder's eyes, I felt my mouth part in surprise. What stood in front of me was a man, an old man. His hair was grey-white, balding at the top of his scalp, as his face was filled with aged skin, his back was slightly hunched yet he stood proud. A confident look was evident in his eyes, even when he was facing me. I saw my reflection inside his irises, and the messy-looking self almost threw me off. Just who was that? That was me? 

We stared at each other for a moment, Mark was forced to deal with another attacker as we stayed still. My arms surprising quivering slightly from the force that man was exuding.

Who the hell was he? 

And when a sudden gust of wind passes us, it all suddenly appearing all calm, his chest rising up and down as my eyes darted around his body, searching for any evident weaknesses. No bruises, no scars, in fact, he seemed far too healthy to look so old. The loud cry coming from Mark forced me to react quickly, my knee slamming against his pelvis, which did absolutely nothing apart from force pain to decent my nerve endings. The old man in front of me stood still, almost robot-like before the second gust of wind went by, and only then, as if he was given the ‘go-ahead’ did he lunge forwards, jabbing his sword in an attempt to stab me but my reflexes quickly kicked in, my body ducking out of the way as he swiped the air, barely missing my ribs.

“!” 

My eyes widened when I heard another yelp, my body turning to look for Mark. Only to see him trying to avoid a sword himself, his chest heaving as he inhaled air in the slight gasp. The sword, unfortunately, managed to brush against his arm the second the man stabbed, leaving a shallow wound and hissing Mark.

“You dumb young proxies always think you are so superior, lesson number one, never take your eyes off your opponent.” And just like that, the old man was trying to attack me again, my body yet again managing to escape another fatal wound, most likely my aptitude dragging me along as a form of my natural defence. I saw his eyes widen for a fraction when I pulled my trigger, the bullet barely grazing his arm as he just as quickly jumped to the side. It was as if he was dancing with the wind, winding and skipping with each gust of wind passing us. 

His moves were strange, staggering, without a pattern, only causing my mind to get confused, my eyes turning white as my aptitude fully activated itself, the image fully stopping as I watch him stare at me, and just when my impulses began to think, to work in the comfort of knowing that time was stopped, his grip adjusted his sword against my aptitude, my eyes watching the image shatter like broken glass as he used the palm of his hand to uppercut me under my chin, my feet staggering in a surprise as the colour of my eyes glitched. My fist quickly slammed the right side of his face in succession in slow motion as a response. For some strange reason this time he wasn’t able to block it. So I used the momentum to aim my gun, this time pulling my trigger straight to his temple but just when the bullet was almost there, the image glitched together with the wind, instead, his sword was edging straight at me. 

So I jumped to another side, thinking I successfully managed to escape, but the old man noticed my attempts to escape, his sword changing its direction, instead of aiming to chop my legs off, fruitfully instead managing to leave a gash when I fared a last-second helpless change of direction. I let out a pained yelp, blood training down the cut from my left calf. In my moment of fear my body barely hurdled out of a much bigger hit. But the old man knew, he somehow knew where my body was taking me, his eyes never flashing in any colour but for some reason, he knew just how my aptitude worked. He knew how to overpower it. Each second I tried to subjugate my aptitude, to keep it running, the sudden sharp pain sliced against my head, my vision turning slightly blurry. It was too much.

How was it possible? How could he do that?

The second he dashed again, he effectively managed to grace my right side. It was shallow yet again, but something dark blue was dripping out of my wound together with my blood and I bleakly stared at him.

“Kids like you don’t deserve to live. Thinking that your so-called aptitudes made you all invincible.” I forced myself to stay upright, my feet against the pain pulling me away from the man, his hands swinging the sword yet again but at the last second, I kicked away, my hands pulling against the trigger again and again and again and again, until one bullet successfully hit his shoulder blade instead of his head which I was aiming for. His frame turned into three split versions. As his body was forced back by the sudden kick of the bullet.

My vision began to spin, my lungs taking in sharp breaths as I sprinted towards fallen Mark, who was trying to disarm another old man, his body decorated in more gashed than mine. The old man against his appearance pushing Mark, down onto the ground, his foot stepping onto Mark’s windpipe when Mark failed to shoot him, his gun getting knocked out of his hands as he fearfully gripped onto the attacker's leg, trying to scratch, to somehow get it off him. My body swayed to the side as I ran towards him, his body appearing to glitch. My virtual oracle glasses disappeared somewhere and all I could do was shout, shout something that made no sense in my mind. It felt like a word jumble. 

“ Mark, retreat! Come on retreat!” I desperately screamed, my body stupidly shoving the man off Mark with one strong shoulder push, both of us stumbling over. Mark coughed up blood as he gasped for air. His blood splattered in the air as I drunkenly stared. 

The guy quickly got himself on his feet, my body tensing up as everything begins to flip upside down, my hands shaking uncontrollably. My mind begging for me to react, shoot damn it. Move! Shoot! But it was like I was broken. Too many different parts not listening to each other and when all hope was lost, something clicked in place and just as the old man was getting ready to attack us again, a loud gunshot went off.

I managed to successfully rupture his spleen against all the odds. 

Yet my mind hissed in anger when yet again I missed a fatal spot. My hands trembled in adrenaline as white spots began to dart around my vision, there were bright colours flashing, the world turning and spinning as I swayed from side to side. I had no idea what was happening, my body becoming sluggish as I grabbed onto Mark’s arm, his body turning into five versions, each different colour. I tried to drag him up, missing his arm twice before a miracle happened and we both managed to grip onto each other. With a yelp coming from his bloody lips I pulled him up. 

We needed to get out of there right that second. So we held onto each other, trying to sprint away when the whole world was spinning, making me only dizzy until the sensation becomes too much. Nausea forced itself, the bile getting spewed out of my throat as I hunched over, Mark falling onto the ground with convulsions, but I no longer knew what was real and what was just my hallucinations.

My stomach kept on contracting violently forcing everything out. There was blood now, and there were soon tears coming from my tear ducts as I cried. The vomit and blood stench was too much, it invaded my nostrils and only forced me to heave again. I couldn’t see how Mark was doing through my tearful eyes, but there was a sudden commotion surrounding us. My body tensed upon instinct as I waited for them to stab us, but instead, I heard a gurgled scream before something was happening again. My hands gripped onto someone as I weakly aimed my elbow in what I hoped was a painful area but the person blocked me. Their strong arms instead enveloped me securely as their fingers brushed my wet hair away from my face, their touch was so gentle, so loving that all I could conclude was that I must have gotten poisoned. Their swords must have been dipped in poison and now it all was over. 

“Now old you will take us down to your underground base and will tell us what you know. Or else I won’t hesitate to blow your head off just like I did with your other friend.” The voice sounded distant, my eyes trying to pick on who it was but I only saw dancing dots, white stripes, lots of twirling and twisting and dropping dots.

 
“Hah, you stupid proxy you think I will listen to you? My days are numbered, I’m old. Maybe you should have gotten your leader to try and negotiate with us  – ”

“Then I will slather all your little rebels and trust me it will be painful.” My stomach contracted violently yet again, not letting me listen anymore. My body turned all heavy as I heaved over and over again, more bright images flashing, blinding me for a moment as I try to grip onto something, anything just to avoid hitting the ground.

“Yoongi, we should retreat – ”

“No, we will go down and will reap them all.”

“Hah, you think you two could get us? Just look at your little group! All it took was a mere two old guys to get them –”

Mark…how was Mark? Did we get saved? None of the words made any sense anymore, they become jumbles of useless letters and sounds. Yoongi…he needed to stop, he should not use his aptitude or else…

Or else

Or else…what?

Something.

Something.

I was tired. So I allowed my body to go. We all deserved the rest. So I went, I went down that rabbit hole that magically appeared.

“Jungkook, get in contact with our base, take them back. I will deal with all of them.”

“But Yoongi –”

“Now!”

And then all the colours of the world went away, a dark shadow surrounded me as I heard a blood screeching scream, and then the whole ground shook before it turned dark. My body fell down the rabbit hole, twisting and turning and bending. 

Laughter. So much laughter and then silence. Deadly silence.