It was spreading. Slowly but surely, Ela Nektor crept up on her. Zipping up a hoodie, she set off into the city. Regular exercise helps lengthen the life span of a being. She convinced herself she could cheat time with a good helping of hard work.

“Good morning.” Citizens greeted, sweeping debris under the rug. Managing a nod to reciprocate the gesture, she kept a steady pace. Mentally counting shattered store windows.

The Capital engrossed itself in mass clean-up following what almost equated to the People’s Riot of 4814. Boards and Council members alike pushed the effort with promises of equality and equity. A blanket of quiet fell upon the planet when EXON news reported on Vernon Milford’s groundbreaking verdict. Even now, it felt like the tension was lying in wait. Ready to burst at the seams at the slightest notion of retracted or redacted statements.

“What do we do now,” is the question on everyone’s mind. She knew the answer.

Compared to one week prior, 9 out of 12 blocks in Sectors A, B, and C remained ransacked. Exotians needed the Council to clarify the Ranking system’s exit plan. When, where, and how would benefits be reaped? Only in a state of security could they rebuild.

Kai stood from the cement stoop when he spotted her rounding the corner.  “Bold or,” plucking seizing headphones from her ears, he continued, “batty. How would you describe the Seeress of Exo going for a jog after sacking the longest running system in the history of Exo planet’s creation?” 

“Bold. Batty. B-maybe I’m both?” 

“B-maybe?” Her joke fell flat. Laughter naturally explodes from his throat anyway. It’d been three days since he laughed — she counted. “By the way, what’s this about us owing Suho?”

“So you did make a bet.”

Kai purses his lips, “B-maybe.” Molding the title on his tongue, he opens the door, “Your highness.” 

An impromptu performance in Sector B last night, meant to liven community spirit and foster camaraderie, assures the couple’s walk up the stairs will go uninterrupted. They pass a woman out halfway up the third floor. Sometime last night, someone draped a blanket over her. 

“Derek and Kalil want you over for dinner.”

Perking up, Kai’s countenance lightens at the mention, “And so they shall have us.” He put purposeful emphasis on the latter pronoun. Their shoulders brush briefly in the narrow stairwell. Just out of reach. 

“Let’s all go.”

“With the new nursery, I doubt there’s room to go around.” It takes a moment for him to notice her probing stare. “We’ll all go,” he gives in. Her abnormal insistence on an issue was nothing new. Having lost the ability to see through her a long time ago, he eagerly anticipated the upcoming family dinner.

“Your highness.” He stopped her before she disappeared behind another door. Swinging fingers over his shoulder, he motioned quickly. Hand unsteady.

Her Ela Nektor was showing. 

Two hundred twenty eight days, seven hours, and fifteen minutes left.

“Surprise!” 

Streamers popped, having the same effect on the Sun Guardians as it would a pack of ill-tempered pit bulls. Subsequent excited giggling and mistimed clapping snapped sense into the six. Regaining perspective, chatter soon filled the small space. What a surprise it was: the appearance of the Moon Guardians at the lovely duo’s abode. 

No cameras watching, they embraced one another. Commented on growth spurts and exchanged idle chatter. Wasting the moment wasn’t an option. Table full to bursting, dinner pleasantly passed.  The Seeress of Exo’s absence went unnoticed as the moon settled in the sky. 

“Look at its chubby cheeks!” Bending his lean body over the crib in the foyer, Chanyeol cooed, “Who’s a fat baby? You are. That’s right. You are!” Chanting “fat baby” to an unrecognizable tune, the Guardian did a fine job entertaining himself. 

“Let’s hope your successor is thick-skinned.” Kris remarked over his shoulder, floating to sneak a peak at the bundle of joy. “Lest you scar him with good intentions.” 

Some feet away, Lay and Suho took to the task of catering to their hosts. “She looks healthy.” Lay scanned the apartment, “Are you having trouble finding food?” Concern welling up, Suho apologized for barging in for the third time tonight. The privilege to congregate freely with their brethren wasn’t worth condemning a family to starvation — twelve mouths inhaled enough food to empty emergency reserves in an instant. 

Derek shook his head, “We’re fine. Our Seeress helps out too much already.” A smile splayed across his face as he directed towards his wife at his side, “Isn’t that right, my fat baby?” This earns him a firm smack on the shoulder. 

The lights flicker on and off, a resounding voice echoing “aah” through the home. “Don’t worry about it, hon,” Kalil yelled towards the ladder leading upwards in the kitchen. “We’ve got other things to worry about than missing Galactic Guardians on holovision.” Our daughter’s favorite show, Derek mumbles. Your favorite show, Kalil corrects.

“Light is essential to stimulate the sensory nervous system of children.” Baekhyun pushed past wires, electricity snapping where his torso disappeared into the ceiling.

“I’ll keep him from crossing the wrong cables; I’m practically a certified electrician.” Climbing the shaking ladder, Chen nudged Baekhyun aside, “C’mon, bud. Make some room.” The two launched an alien conversation rotating around the mechanics of currents, circuits, and channels. 

Tao swerved under them, seven years of bad luck a mere afterthought. Riding high on happiness, surrounded by his brothers, he precariously balanced stacks of dirty dishes against his beating chest. “Take it easy. There’s no time crunch.” D.O warned to no avail, the young Moon Guardian spinning away after depositing the tower of ceramic into the sink.

Xiumin scribbled at the counter, ignoring the lemon-scented cleaner permeating his nostrils. Breathing deep, he announced, “Finished.”

Sehun snatched the notepad, taking a look at the masterpiece marking the page. “It’s pretty,” he paused, “awful.” Guilt struck immediately. He twisted his — brutally — honest words, “As in I’m full of awe just looking at it.”

“Remind me to belittle your self-esteem when you find a hobby.” Xiumin took back the sketch reminiscent more of a dog than a baby. The image was too new to him; practice makes perfect. He started over while Sehun hung back, critiquing out of turn enough to earn mild frostbite.

Luhan approached Kai, waiting by the front door. “Where is her highness?” Kai shrugged, uninterested in discussing girl problems with the source. 

Meanwhile, in a small restaurant in Sector A, dinner arrived late to the table for three. Henry Lau, leader of the Boards, tore into the meager rations the second plate touched stone. Vernon Milford hesitated, poking a rusted fork at bread with pores pasted shut — an off beige in color.

The Ranking system paid manufacturers with free housing and Rank 1 comforts. Due to its abolishment, shipments of food stuffs were in semantic limbo between Dunai and the Capital. For the few Exotians still living in Jingxi, bartering worked wonders. Clear monetary values were now needed in the place of a swipeable card backed by the entitlement of rank. 

“Are you regretting it?” I asked the leader of the Council. The self-proclaimed “Gardener of the Capital.” Henry attempted to speak. “Don’t. Mindreader, remember?” We could do without his snarky commentary.

Milford dropped his fork, hands crossed, “Then you know exactly how I feel about joining hands with a group of barbaric rebels intent on destroying the social and economical order of Exo planet.”

Hiding behind pomp and delusions of grandeur, Milford fought against the inevitable. He listened to reason once. Acts of terror and destruction forced his hand. Now came the time to either willingly extend it in the name of peace, or live in disillusionment of what used to be.

“Say it.” I edged him on, closer to the pool he was content on drowning in. “Words have more power than you can imagine.” I pointed towards Henry, “Inspiring speeches filled with empty ones got him here.” Pushing the same way time pressed me, “So, say it. Destroy everything before it begins.”

Henry chimes in, buttering me up, “I agree with the Seeress.” But this wasn’t about taking sides anymore. 

“Your opinion is irrelevant. We’re all just pretty faces saying powerful words. We bend to them, to Exotians, to stay here.” I asked again, “Are you regretting it?” 

Milford coughed into an open palm, “When will the representatives arrive?”

“Two weeks time.”

When it came time to sink or swim, he high-tailed it towards land. “For the sake of Exo planet, I can no longer indulge in the pettiness of a system no longer in place.” 

“Good man. Now stuff your pretty face with food.” I turned to Henry, “You, too.”

In two weeks time, representatives from numerous cities and towns across the globe would arrive in the Capital. Flior; Dunai; Jingxi; Beleuch; Alberos: the list goes on. These representatives — along with Henry Lau, Vernon Milford, and myself — would hold a meeting to decide the future of Exo Planet. The “Open Forum 2.0,” Henry dubbed it. Milford played coy for the remainder of the candlelit dinner.

B1 became his last hope as he desperately clung to power.

Mindreader, remember?

A/N: Radio plays "y Can I” immediately after googling pictures of Kai. Who knew there was a time period between 2 and 3 in the morning where the world makes sense.