We barely escaped. Thanks to Xiumin’s quick thinking, we fled into the tunnels of the sewage system via a nearby manhole. We had lost Kris and Tao somewhere along the way. They would meet up with us later. They didn’t say as much, so I did it for them with the statement of, “We’ll find each other soon, I promise.” My track record for breaking such commitments was abhorrent, but I still did it. 

I had made it to Sector E, just like I had wanted. 

I was struggling to survive in Sector E, a measly hour after getting what I wanted.

Xiumin sealed the latch of the lid behind us with ice, keeping those who were after us out while subsequently trapping us in. Chen grabbed hold of my arm, rushing me forward, calling back behind us in a rough whisper, “How much time does that buy us, Xiumin?”

Lay ran ahead to where the tunnels branched to the left and right, not a single marking to indicate which one led to salvation and which to anything but. In the end, he chose left, ushering Chen and I to follow him quickly with a wave of his hand. We continued on for a good minute or two before Xiumin finally answered him, the chance to catch his breath supplied to him by the second fork in the road we came to. Lay chose left again. 

“Hours if they’re idiots.” Xiumin trailed behind us, throwing glances over his shoulder as we trudged through the ankle high, murky water. “Seconds if—”

The sound of an explosion interrupted his words, the direction it came from being the manhole we had just descended down. The tunnels shook in the aftermath, shards of rock falling here and there, puffs of gray smoke clouding both the sewage lights and our vision. 

“If they’re carrying heavy artillery.” Xiumin finished, the whites of his eyes all I could see as he scanned the area frantically. 

Lay bounded off down the tunnel, thinking he’d be able to find out where we could go from here if he did.

“And if they’re idiots carrying heavy artillery?” Chen questioned, eyebrows quirked.

Xiumin stopped looking around, the dust clearing, his own conclusion on the outlook of our most immediate future evident from his facial features alone — though his words certainly helped to accentuate it even more so.

“Then we either think quick or we’re dead.” 

“Then start thinking.” Chen pushed him, though his words seemed more for himself than Xiumin as he continued to repeat them over and over again, his grip on my arm tightening. I attempted to speak, to tell him he was hurting me, but the air still hung heavy with dust and dirt. Inhaling filled my lungs to the brim with the thick air. 

“The only way forward is straight ahead. There’s dead ends here and there, but that’s about it when it comes to options,” Lay reported upon returning, his breathing heavy and his eyes squinting. He needed to rest. Kris had told me as much as we made our way through Sector C. He, verbatim, told me: “Physically, Lay’s about as useful as an energy bar.” Lay wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Adrenaline may have kept him standing, but we couldn’t risk having him fall anytime soon.

So, we had to rest.

“Well we either keep running and wear ourselves out or we make our stand here.” Chen declared, his free hand flickering blue from his fingertips, electricity jumping from one of his knuckles to the next in an endless feedback loop.

Xiumin didn’t say a word, still searching for a way out of the mess I had dragged them into. 

So, we couldn’t run — the path ahead was full of dead ends.

Fighting wasn’t exactly the better option either. 

I wouldn’t call myself a genius or quick-witted, and I certainly wouldn’t count on myself to be as dependable as I was then. The answer simply seemed obvious to me; who wasn’t burdened with a power that either had them, the Guardians, running or fighting in every situation whose path they happened to cross. My power was one I could hide with ease. 

And this is where my idea stemmed from. 

I wrung myself free from Chen’s grip, effectively grabbing his attention, before uttering, stuttering out, “We have to hide.” He didn’t seem to understand — a deduction that was proved by his questioning thoughts. I turned to Xiumin, the self-proclaimed, infamous chess genius, and said, “How well can you mimic structures with ice?”

I could almost hear the audible click as his train of thought lined up with mine, and a smile lit his face. He plowed forward through the cold water, kicking it up with his feet, like a man on a mission. Like, for some reason, a child experiencing the peak of excitement. He pointed to the lights lining the tunnel walls as we went, Chen, Lay, and I closely following behind him, “Chen, take out the lights.” 

And each one we passed was zapped by a bolt of lightning; flashes of yellow causing stars to go sparkling across my eyes. 

Chen left the tunnel behind us a hue of dark gray, heavy and thick. It didn’t take long for us to reach one of the many short, dead ends Lay had told us about. Xiumin selected one that came to a stop less then ten feet in. He waved for us to get behind him quickly, the sounds of footsteps that weren’t our own now echoing from somewhere further down the tunnel — closer than before. Chen took out all the lights that remained aglow around us, my view of the world with my eyes wide open the same shade of black as the world in the inside of my eyelids. 

I heard the sound of water rushing, followed by soft cackles akin to ice cracking, and then, nothing. Nothing, as I felt someone’s hand brush against my stomach, pushing me further back, the feeling of nervous butterflies fluttering in the pit of my gut. No one spoke a single word. No one thought a single thing. My entire world seemingly went quiet for a handful of minutes before thoughts and words exploded across the starless sky. 

The shouts, both verbal and nonverbal, overwhelmed me as dim flashes of lights swayed back and forth in front of us. And then, there they were. Hazy figures dawning heavy black armor, emblems of silver patched across their chests, they were mere feet away from us as they passed. Blazing blue lights whirred from the “heavy artillery” each carried beneath their shoulder. With faces hidden from view, I questioned if they were Exotians at all. Though the thing I’ll remember the most about that close encounter, that would haunt me in more than just my dreams, was the tone of their thoughts. 

They weren’t angry or frustrated or even happy. They weren’t anything. They were apathetically neutral as each surmised our own demise. I felt a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders, steadying my body that I hadn’t noticed was shaking before. 

I would perpetually tremble then, and in the future, when no one was looking. When I was hidden, out of sight and out of mind. When I was alone, because there was nothing more frightening than imagining what would become of me if I ever perpetually was. 

After a few minutes, perhaps a few hours, time itself not brave enough to venture as deep as we had into the murky grey that now clung to our ankles like quicksand, Chen’s hand flickered blue again; providing us with light in the darkness. Xiumin bent and broke the wall of stained ice he had made, so heavy and thick it was no wonder we weren’t found. Still, the entire plan wasn’t foolproof, as ice glares when light shines on it. Still, we were alive. And Lay began to lead the way again, in the opposite direction we were heading before. 

No one spoke a single word. 

No one thought a single thing.

Upon reaching a new part of the tunnels we had never seen before, he paused momentarily.

Lay chose right this time.

Barrel upon barrel of weaponry I couldn't even begin to identify stared us down on all sides as we emerged from what seemed like the very depths of the planet itself. Short and long, small and large, all pointed directly at us. All because of all routes to salvation we chose, of the only one we had been left to choose, it had been a manhole that took us directly into, based upon the black and white crown insignia spray painted on the cement wall in front of us, the Board’s headquarters; which explained the guns. 

Which, despite all the logic the situation now presented, didn’t help us in the least. 

Within seconds, Xiumin moved in front of all of us, preparing to make whatever necessary to protect us. Chen stood firmly behind him, fists cackling with blue sparks once more. Lay held a steady arm in front of me, shielding me. The two buildings on either side of us had an Exotian aimed and ready to fire at us from every window. The tall cement walls that cut this part of what seemed to be an alleyway away from the rest of the city reached as high as the buildings themselves. 

There was no way out of this but down — an option not a one of us wanted to entertain. 

Once more, running away or fighting was impossible if we wanted to maintain the highest possible chances of survival. But, once more, we didn’t have to. We were given an implausible third option. We were unbelievable lucky today, I must admit, as a man dressed in flaming red emerged from the sea of stone gray faces. And I wouldn’t tempt Lady Luck into removing us from her graces by saying that out loud.

“Order your Protectors to stand down, Seeress.” The man spoke in a detached manner quite like the thoughts of those we had escaped from some time ago. Yet, different. A kind of different that was open to suggestion; to conversation. As it was, as I would soon find out, the man himself was weak to conversation.

“I will not order them to act against their natural instincts to survive.” I answered back, throwing glances at the weaponry all around us. The man got the hint, his right hand rising up, palm open. The Exotians lowered their arms, leaving Xiumin, Chen, Lay, and I some breathing room. Still, they were armed. Still, we couldn’t count ourselves out of this predicament quite yet. 

“Now order them to stand down, Seeress.” He repeated.

“I don’t think I got my message across the first time, so let me say it again,” I reached out, pushing past Lay’s hands as I took steps forward, past him, Chen, and then Xiumin, coming to a stop in front all of them. I was more than willing to protect them with my words — the only thing I could offer. And they let me, because they trusted me. I wasn’t going to let them down so easily. “Xiumin, Chen, and Lay, three of the twelve Guardians of Exo Planet, are allowed to do whatever they believe best for both Exotians and myself. I will not give them orders. Whatever they want to do, they do. As do I, the act of me wanting to come here and speak with you, the Board, something all of them opposed to. ”

He seemed intrigued, his thoughts coloring him impressed with my audacious syntax and diction — an impression I hoped to maintain in our future interactions. 

I continued, feeling more sure of myself, feeling confident, perhaps overconfident, that we would all live to see tomorrow, the day, the week, the month, and the years after that too, “So then, now that that’s out of the way, what is it that you want?”

Because we weren’t dead yet, right?

Because we were still breathing and living, as it were, he and his brethren — the Board themselves — must have had a reason not to shoot us. 

And hadn't I come to Sector E for the sake of knowing this exact reason?

From being surrounded by the threat of death down every corner and corridor, to being stared down by it on all sides, to traveling down a rather harmless, long, and thin stretch of hallway, I’d say we were making progress. Each Exotian we passed was anything but ambivalent, but they didn’t lift a single finger to harm us. The man draped in red in front of us traipsed down the hall, bobbing his head to a song I couldn’t physically hear, leading us further and further into the unknown with the explanation of: “It’s procedure, you understand.”

“Sector E of the capital isn’t exactly one of the best ‘Vacation Spots’ people put at the top of their bucket list. So, I’m sure you understand the state of things here.” He gestured to the flickering lights, the peeling wallpaper, and the air all around us — pungent with a smell I couldn’t identify. “Find it in your frail, sheltered hearts to forgive the accommodations we can spare for you before our long awaited talk of ideals, the future, and whatnot, and understand it’s the best we have to offer.” 

It seemed there was a lot of understanding desired, without a lot of explanation as to why delivered, here in Sector E.

“It’s not as though you had warning of our impending visit,” I commented, supporting his justified claim on the righteous act of ‘understanding.’ 

He laughed, spinning on his heel to face us, and I could feel Xiumin and Chen tense beside me, “On the contrary! We knew well of your arrival before you mistakenly walked into an ambush not in the least bit prepared for you. According to a transmission we intercepted today, six Protectors of the Tree of Life were spotted entering Sector E over two hours ago. After that, the Council went on high alert and their forces practically swarmed the streets. Judging by the number they’ve sent and the extent they’ve gone to scouring every nook and cranny they come across, it seems they’ve actually mistaken you, your highness, for one of your bodyguards instead.” He threw a glance at Xiumin, Chen, and Lay, brown eyes seeming to pitifully smile beneath his blonde fringe. And yet, seeming to not at the same time. 

I hadn’t expected us to be able to enter the Sector without being detected. Luhan had taken to covering our route by causing interference with the surveillance cameras we happened to pass by, but we couldn’t and we certainly didn’t overestimate his abilities. The further away from Sector A we got, the more his influence dwindled, as well as his ability to cover our tracks. So, it was no surprise we were found.

The bigger surprise was that we were attacked so openly and without prejudice. I suppose I have Baekhyun’s hoodie to thank for making me appear to be a Guardian, lest the EXON news channel blow up with more inflations of baseless and senseless lies, but it didn’t at all sit well with me to know that the Council would take any and all opportunities to kill the twelve people the planet held most dear. It agitated me, to explain my feelings then simply, and I couldn’t force my expression to change from the frown it now tightly hardened into. 

“Smile, they’re complimenting you,” he reached out, pushing my shoulder, and I could feel Lay’s hand on the back of my hoodie, tugging me back, away from the man clothed all in red. He only laughed again, Lay’s obvious, defensive action of me not fazing him in the least as he continued his words pointed directly at me and me alone, “You see, this means that the Council believes you to look just as powerful as any one of them.” 

Scratch that, I was more than just agitated. Now, I was angry. I was angry because it was hard to miss the dislike he had for them: the Guardians there with me and those not. He regarded them with hooded eyes and passing glances as he would animals. As though they were good for their powers and nothing else, he reduced them to the term ‘bodyguards’ who needed to be ‘ordered’ in order to act. I didn’t like it. 

And I didn’t even try to hide this fact, even though — in hindsight — I probably should have, “Forgive me for not seeing the humor in this as you do.”

It was then that his entire demeanor changed, his smile fading, his tongue clicking hard against the top of his mouth as he corrected my misunderstanding, “Did I ever say I thought it was funny?” 

I didn’t read his thoughts then to figure out why he changed so suddenly, to figure out if he had simply been this way all along, because I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to know. There was this feeling in my gut that pulled me back, like Lay’s hand on me just moments ago, telling me to stop. To not push the issue further. To not want to know, because life would be easier that way. And since I was too tired right now, because I was already pushing the limits of not only my mind and body but Xiumin’s, Chen’s, and Lay’s as well, I chose the easier route for now. I went right and avoided any unforeseen difficulties that lay in wait for me. 

“Luna, show our guests to their quarters until we can get in touch with the others.” The, still unnamed, man in red spoke to the woman who had been silently following us all the while. When she opened to speak in reply, he pointed at her, cutting her off with a stern, “No back-talking now.”

And then, he left.

He disappeared down the long hallway into a room to the left that I couldn’t even attempt to sneak a peek at as the woman named Luna gestured us to the right, down another hallway. The two men following behind us, where she previously was, held their weapons with anxious hands. That, plus the promise of a meeting with the Boards, was enough to keep me silent — my anger-driven words of provocation not the best to go spouting about right now. 

We reached a copper colored door, sooner rather than later, that Luna directed to with a less than gracious, “Go in.” We did, only to have the door slam shut behind us, an audible locking noise sounding out right after. She sang out an almost bitter, “Enjoy your stay,” before taking her leave as well. Only when her footsteps faded into the distance did the three Guardians at my side give up their vows of silence.

“Great! Now we’re locked in here while the leaders of the Board heads over whether to kill us first and ask questions later,” Chen kicked the door fiercely, putting a dent into the weak metal, “or the reverse.”

“From one mouse trap to the next.” Xiumin commented out loud, eyes glazing from one corner of the old, unkempt room to the next. 

“There’s blood on the wall.” Lay knelt down beside where a grime covered sink hung from the wall by nearly nothing; the entire room in shambles.

“I guess it’s the reverse then.” Chen scoffed, beginning to pace in circles maniacally. 

The room itself had a single bed, a nightstand, the sink Lay now knelt before, cement flooring and walls, and a hanging lamp that swayed back and forth, conducting a dance to unheard music, flickering every-so-often as though on the brink of death itself. It looked like a prison cell. The term itself sounded foreign in my mind. I had only seen such rare rooms — so rare they’re spoken of as myths existing in the same plane of reality as the notions of the Protectors of the Tree of Life and the Seeress of Exo — through the news or documentaries reporting on the one prison which existed on Exo Planet: Sector 12. Though, perhaps it’s not fair of me to make comparisons to places I haven’t been — yet.

“I’m not going to say sorry,” I spoke up, gaining their attention, “because that would suggest I have something to regret about coming here. And I’m not going to belittle your support and trust in me by claiming that.”

Maybe I should have, maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong; who knows, really? 

Who knows if what I asked Xiumin and Chen to do then was right? Or wrong? Or something I should have done? Or shouldn’t have done at all? Who knows, really?

All I can know is the present — and sometimes the future, if I’m lucky.

But I couldn’t fully put my faith in the luck that had gotten us all the way here. That had miraculously kept us alive and kicking. I could, however, put it in the Guardians I’ve spent almost a year with now. In Xiumin and Chen, who I then asked, “Will you two bring back Kris and Tao?”

I had promised, after all. 

And within seconds, the door to the room went flying off its hinges, the sound of ice cracking and thunder cackling filling the air; heavy and thick.

A/N: 

I don't really know what to say here. So, I'll compromise with saying both something and nothing at all. Like recording down a random thought I've thunk up. Honestly, I could really go for a warm can of Ginger ale, but all I have in my fridge is this bottled up, cold stuff. Damn. Tadah! Mission success! What? I honestly don't know anymore. Also, thanks. For reading. This story. The chapter. This. Yeah. Damn if I can't stop thinking about that ginger ale drink. Damn. I'm either punny, hilarious, or neither. Damn, references. Damn. Maybe if I type it enough, it'll start to look funny. Damn. Nope. Damn. Yeah.