Prologue

They’re hiding in a dark alleyway between two brick apartment buildings in deplorable conditions, both with five floors and home to people with questionable morals. A few feet to their left, a streetlamp gives off a yellow, dim light, enough so they can see. There’s a black, plastic garbage bin next to them, full of human waste, scrap metal, and other forms of junk. All of the surrounding rusty, double-hung windows are squeezed shut against winter. Inside each room, there’s a variety of shouts, moans, and other strange cacophonies that can be heard with vivid clarity outside.

Leaning on the wall of mold is a tall guy with ruffled, brown hair and a defined jawline balancing well with the soft features of his face. The collar of his black, chesterfield coat is spread upright. His hands are inside his pockets, and his head is bowed low. He scowls as he sees the dirt on his combat boots. He just cleaned them last night and he’s about to clean them again later.

“How did you know he’s one of us?” he asks the girl beside him, his breath visible with the cold. The temperature has dropped below zero, and the fog is thicker and more menacing. He can’t wait to be back inside the warm confines of their flat again.

“I’ve been following him around,” she answers. She’s crouching on the cemented ground, the hem of her coachman almost touching the puddle behind her. Her eyes are glued in front of her. “His routine is pretty cyclical, and his habits are predictable.” She bites her thumb, a sign that she’s nervous. “He’ll arrive in ten minutes, on the dot, and then he’ll go straight inside one of those buildings on the corner.”

“Have you even witnessed it happen to him?” he asks, cynical.

“I have!” She turns her head to frown at him. “It doesn’t always happen, of course. What’s the probability of it happening to you on a daily basis? You’ll have to be the unluckiest bastard. That’s why I decided to tail him, and I’ve seen it thrice to know for sure.” She looks at her wristwatch and watches the small hand glide from one number to another. “Eight more minutes,” she announces.

“Sana, this is your last chance,” he warns her. “I’ll have to send a report, and I’ll be forced to tell the truth. If it turns out that you’re wrong, they’ll pull you out. They’ll send in a different person to pair me with. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” she mutters. She’d been sulking inside her room for the past couple of days, feeling betrayed. They received a letter from the higher-ups reprimanding her for her recklessness. It also mentioned that if she commits another mistake, she’ll be withdrawn as a Seeker and transported back to their community. She knows he ratted her out. How else can they have known what she’s up to?

“I don’t understand why you kept risking yourself like this,” he scolds her. “You’ve exposed yourself one too many times for someone you’re uncertain about—”

“Didn’t I just tell you he’s the same as us?” she cuts in, annoyed.

“Good thing the council decided to take action against this,” he continues. “I’d rather have you back on training than be captured by the White Empire.”

“Just trust me on this, please,” she begs him. “I’m not one who does things that are out of the ordinary, but this is an exception. I’m completely positive that he’s one of us. If only you’ll shut up for a second, I will show you.” It’s a grand declaration with no assurance behind it. She doesn’t like watching it happen to him, but she has no choice but to hope that it will happen later.

“You know I did it solely to protect you,” he tells her softly. “The reason why we’re deployed in pairs is to look out for each other, to increase our chances in fending off attackers. We’re not normal, Sana, and we’re pursued by powerful people. There’s no safe place for us anywhere.”

Sana has been partners with Mark for three years now, ever since she was chosen to be a Seeker at the age of 18. Potential Seekers are obliged to go through intense physical trainings and mental disciplining as children. Once they turn 16, they must pass four demanding tests with marginal errors. Afterwards, they will be cross-examined by the Council of Leaders concerning what decisions they will make in life-and-death situations. The council will then deliberate over their answers the entire day.

From generation to generation, a maximum number of 10 people are selected from all those who participated. They can’t spare more than that, given that their population has never exceeded 100 living individuals at the same time. Children treat it as a competition for the prestige that comes with the title. They dream of sailing out from the boundaries of their small, concealed island onto the world. On the other hand, the older members are more reserved, some even fearful for their children’s safety. With all the privileges that they get, Seekers have their own fair share of danger, as well.

As a Seeker, her job is simple yet extremely difficult to accomplish. She’s assigned to search for others with similar abilities and encourage them to come back with her to the island. During this time, she must avoid detection and her team must leave the area after a week of fruitless searching. They're not allowed to stay for even a day after. It’s a life-long duty, and she’s required to return once a year to sum up the accomplishments of the operation, the performance she’s given, and the possible oversights that she’s committed.

For as long as she can remember, they’re being sought after by an underground conglomerate of elite men called the White Empire. These aristocrats have been on the manhunt, abducting them to use their bodies for experimentation. They want to determine the source of their ability in order to possess it for themselves. What’s equally demoralizing is that they haven’t met a single person identical to them despite losing someone indispensable to the community.

This is why Sana’s community remains in hiding, away from the radar of Imperialists that desire their innate ability. Their elders discovered the island right after the second World War, using the chaos as a veil and stowed away in groups of six. Half a century later, they have 25 organized families living and breathing in harmony, governed by an elected council of leaders. The community is structured as with any other country out there, with the council divided into the executive, judiciary, and legislative branches. Meanwhile, each citizen from the ages of 10 to 80 have their own roles to fulfill. Mark is right, they’re not normal people. Still, they try their best to exist as united human beings.

“I understand,” she assures him. Thirty seconds, she thinks to herself. I have to think of a way to prove myself, and fast. If nothing happens, I’ll have to do it myself.

At that instant, he shows up on the other side of the street, his head covered by the hood of his black-and-white parka. He’s wearing a black dust mask, but Sana has observed his eyes and posture more than once to distinguish him. “Heads up,” she notifies Mark, nodding her head towards his direction.

They keep an eye on him, sinking further into the shadows. He stands there with his head raised to the sky, and there’s something ethereal about it, something that’s quite sad. Sana notices the slight stoop on his shoulders, and the way he inhales deeply. “What’s wrong?” she asks in a whisper, her forehead creasing with concern. As if in answer, he releases a long sigh and shakes his head.

Right then and there, a red, beaten-up Pontiac is speeding towards him. It swerves erratically, and Sana’s eyes widen in fright. The driver is either drunk, on drugs, or has fallen asleep on the steering wheel. The screeching of tires should be able to alert him about his oncoming peril, except he doesn’t seem to hear them. She catches a glimpse of the white headphones that are plugged in his ears and restrains herself from shouting out. No, she orders herself.

It only takes less than a minute for the Pontiac to careen into him, making Sana gasp in horror. She recoils at the ghastly sight that’s left after the car hightails from its responsibility. He’s sprawled on the pavement, with his limbs bent and his head rotated at a weird angle. She runs out onto the street, Mark close behind her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hisses at her, grabbing her by the elbow.

Sana starts counting to ten, her eyes stuck on the lifeless body. Come on, she pleads. Don’t die on me now. The background begins to quiver like a tv with bad reception.

One.

Two.

Why does time feel slower when she’s nervous?

Three.

Four.

At five, the view in front of her starts to shift, the space surrounding him pulsing statically.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

At ten, he’s standing back up with his eyes closed, as if the past minute hasn’t occurred. Suddenly, he opens his eyes that are glazed with confusion. He looks around him, wondering why he’s there and why his vision out. The static stops, and Sana hears the screeching of wheels yet again. The same car, the same Pontiac, is on its way to him. It swerves just like before, it speeds just like before. She’s watching the scene happen all over again. Only this time, before the car hits him, he jumps out of the way. He clutches at his chest with a shocked expression on his face.

Sana smiles in satisfaction and exhales the air that she doesn’t know she’s been holding. I found you, at last.