Sydney, Austrailia.

 

Name: Luhan

 

Age: 21

 

Gender: Male

 

---

"In a secluded neighbourhood of Washington, DC. A man is convicted of-"

 

"Hello, welcome to Jane's how may I take your order?" It was a pleasant smile he gave, one that took many girls to their knees. He had wondered how many girls would believe such a sweet smile and sugar coated words. But he had no complaints.

 

"Hi," she murmured, speaking up, "I would like a combo seven with a medium smoothie instead of coffee." 

 

"That'll be an extra thirty five cents." 

 

"He claims his neighbour to able to produce flames-" a crackle, "Authorities have investigated the unknown yet numerous report of the individual whose name cannot be released due to legal reasons."

 

"That's okay," she paused, Luhan looked up from his wad of paper to flash another smile. $20 tip and number, score. "And your number please." 

 

"My number?" He raised his eyebrows amused. She fidgeted. 

 

"Coming up next, the lightning storm plaguing the British Isles, how can you stay protected. Brought to you by Aquafina, this is-" 

 

"Excuse me," another man clad in black and radiated importance interrupted. "Are you Luhan no-last-name?" His companion smirked from what left of his face Luhan could distinguish beside the overly large sunglasses. 

 

"Hi, yeah, sorry but I was here first." The girl clarified assertively. Her eyes worrying as they studied Luhan, he fidgeted under her gaze. 

 

Luhan's mind reached to recall the stash of things he had kept, the old man had leant him a worn down truck had he repaired it himself. The tattered vehicle had been patched up with the three months of memory he had, and now sat thirty two steps from his stand before the counter. 2.5 seconds passed as he recalled the stash of Cash and recent ID he had acquired, the men pressed forward, effectively getting into his face. Move, dammit.

 

"Are you he?" A putrid smell of rotten eggs and fish wafted through his nose. 

 

"And I saw him! With flames and he burned my house down because of it!-" the tv screeched from its corner, "this boy, he's a monster I tell you. He's a real thing- That was Park Junhee, on his report of his son, Park Chanyeol whom he claims to produce flames. Dr. Brennan, tell us-"

 

"No," Luhan smiled, "I'm not Luhan no-last-name." The penchant that hung lowly on his chest felt heavy, somehow, he prayed for them not to see the weary chain that peeked from his shirt. Luhan could have sworn dark eyes flashed down towards the collar of his shirt, a small smile appeared on the man's face. 

 

"Oh I see." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "Then I'm sorry."

 

His accomplice raised a dark object - a gun, Luhan recognized, the girl shrieked. He ducked under the counter, his hands hot and cold at the same time. The customers screamed and ran, only for three shots to fire. 

 

The screaming stopped. 

 

"The belief of supernatural abilities is unsupported by any factual evidence, however it has repeatedly been claimed throughout human h-"

 

"There are twelve people in this restaurant, excluding yourself, Luhan no-last-name." An ominous voice of the men, Luhan urged for something. He felt it, he knew he had done it before. The yearning of him wanting to understand his ability and use it, to save the day. 

 

"I am looking for the twelve. They shall represent you." He pauses, "Do not confuse us with the monkeys in suits, Luhan no-last-name, we are not-" the man grappled the hair of the fallen girl, the gun side of the gun pressed into her skull. "With them." 

 

A single gun shot. 

 

"-explain the unexpected earthquake and minimized enigma thirteen hours ago in Beijing, China. Our technology just doesn't allow use to fully comprehend such situations, however, we may certainly not look towards absurd theories -" a bullet ended the last monologue of the tv. It fell from it's three year perch upon impact, and cracked and fizzed as it landed. Luhan cringed.

 

And eleven more bullets in silence before Luhan unfroze from his state of terror. His legs refused to move from his frozen notion of adrenaline. They are dead. The splatters of blood painted the peeling paint job on the opposite wall. Foot steps came closer. 

 

Suddenly, the counter pushed forward with such a force, it collided with the two men and onwards against the opposite wall with a loud crash. Luhan crouched, his hands had pressed against the creaking wooden door of the counter gently. Like a magnet, the structure had repelled with a of his hands. He marvelled, fear and amazement. 

 

The scent of metallic blood and sulphur tinted the air. Luhan turned quickly and thirty two steps later, he was in the car. Silence and deep breathed as a note was found in the worn truck. 

 

A detailed pencil sketch of twelve symbols. They seem to dance about the page in his hands. Luhan pulled over, he held the paper in the air and nudged it upwards. A hysterical delight hit his features, the paper danced in the air above his hands. 

 

He had a power. 

 

The symbols sat, slightly smudged from the charcoal inking, Luhan stared. A brief flash of belonging as he his own penchant, his finger traced the symbol of him. The circles seem to calm him down, Luhan smiled. He was calm. 

 

And he needed to find them. 

 

Ruffling through the crumpled pages within the drawer of the truck, Luhan picked up thick parchment paper, whose crumpled in random coloured markings. A single picture of a girl, wide eyed and thick lipped. Beneath, three words that determined his destination. 

 

Beijing, China. Kyungsoo.