[CONTENTID1] Twenty-Four [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2]

You suppress a shiver that creeps down your spine, "You can't have gone through all this effort just to wish me a happy birthday. Cut the crap and tell me why you're really here."

The mountain of a man sighs in disapproval, "You haven't seen your old man in over half a decade and this is all you can say?" He tsks his tongue and ruefully smiles at you.

You're not fooled by his lax nonchalance. You narrow your eyes at the bodyguards with their guns pressed at you, "Well, this isn't a very warm way to greet your daughter, either."

The Leader frowns at his bodyguards and gives them a subtle nod of his head. The short-haired woman hesitates for a moment, before finally lowering her gun and sliding it back in the holster. Then, she waves her hands for the two men to follow in her place.

As soon as the guns are lowered from your head, your body sags in relief. Of course, you could always vaporize before the bullets made contact, but you've grown rusty with time, and you're not sure if your reflexes are still up to speed. You swallow your relief and square up your shoulders to glare at the bodyguards. But strangely enough, you don't recognize any of their faces. One of the men looks familiar… He might have been on the commune at the same time as you. But the other two faces are utterly alien. Could the Death Cult have really gotten so many new recruits in the five years you have been gone?

"You've grown up so much."

Your father's voice interrupts your useless thoughts. You snap back to the present and hold your breath as you wait for him to continue, perfectly aware of his temper that could shift like a striking snake with one wrong move.

He smiles wryly, "You know, growing up, you looked like the spitting image of your mother… It made me hate looking at you," he laughs, "But now, look at you! My beautiful little girl, all grown up. Of course, not quite as beautiful as your mother was, because now you look a bit like me, too!" he booms with laughter so hard that his enormous frame shakes, and it feels like the very ground is quaking underneath your feet.

It's the greatest insult he could ever say to you. You bite down on the inside of your cheek and will away the urge to cringe at the sound of his too-loud laughter. "Not as much as oppa looked like you."

The Leader falls silent at that, and stares at the features of your face contemplatively, "No, I suppose you're right about that. Your brother took after me in everything, it seems. Except for his rationality. And maybe that's why you're the only sibling alive."

"Yes, because I was smart enough to get the hell away from you while I still could," you snarl at him before you can help yourself.

The three bodyguards tense, their hands flying to the guns on their belts. But the Leader does not retaliate like expected and instead taps a thoughtful finger against his broad chin, "That is true, my dear. You were always the more cautious child… Quick-witted and self-interested in ways your sweet, sacrificing brother could never be. Tell me, my dear, is that how you have survived on your own for so long?"

"Of course," you practically spit at him, "Do you think it was easy, darting from country to country, struggling for food and shelter, having to live on the streets for some periods, just to avoid you? I was still a child then."

Your father makes a soft sound of what almost sounds like sympathy, "My poor darling," he coos, "You should have just come home."

"Back to you?" You snort at the absurdity of his words, "You killed my mother, and you just killed my brother, too. Lord knows how long I have until it's my turn."

"If you stay so opposed to us, that won't be long."

His ominous words seem to drift over the silent night and sink into the white-blanketed rooftop. You your suddenly dry lips, "There is no way you went through all that effort just to threaten me," you accuse, "Hi-jacking every broadcasting station in Seoul? That's a whole other level, even for you."

The corners of his wide mouth lift, "Maybe I've gotten more tech savvy in the last few years."

"Yeah right," you say, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

"You look just the way you did throwing a temper tantrum as a child," he laughs, "Is it wrong for a father to want to see his only daughter all grown up?" he says with a sigh that almost passes as nostalgia. But you know better.

"Cut the bull, dad, and tell me what you want with me."

A smile spreads across his hauntingly familiar face, "Do you speak to your friends like this?"

Your stomach plummets, "Wh-what friends?"

His smile widens, "Did you really think the first full circle in half a century could stay a secret long?"

He knows.

All your efforts for the past few weeks have been for nothing. It's all over.

"I-I…" You stutter incomprehensibly as all the color drains from your face.

He laughs at your reaction, "I'm impressed, my sweet child. You were never that great at making friends. Not like your popular brother. You were always kind of the outcast, huh? Well, it makes your father so proud to see you making friends."

It feels like the blood in your veins freezes over. The loss of your life is a risk you had been willing to take. But not the members. How could you have gotten them into this situation?

"Leave them alone," you hiss.

"How can I?" he chuckles, "I bet they're in your mind as we speak. Why don't you tell them that your father says hi?"

"They're not here right now," you grunt out.

"Hmm, is that so? Those are very good friends, are they?" he lightly chides, "How could they let you go off all on your own? And as such a young girl, too? On your birthday? You should choose better friends," he says, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"Stop it," you growl, "This isn't about them. This is about me. Why did you summon me here?"

He his head to the side in a manner that might pass for boyish if not for his over-sized, elephantine frame, "Isn't it obvious, my daughter? I want you to come home."

Your lips automatically pull back into a sneer, "You must be an idiot if you believe I'd go anywhere with you after what you've done to me."

"You're still such a drama queen," he sighs, "I'm only trying to protect you, my child."

"Oh yeah. I definitely need protecting," you sarcastically shoot back, "Because Seoul was so dangerous before you started bombing the place."

"One day, I will sit you down and give you the attitude check you need," he promises in a low voice, "But for now, you have a choice to make."

Your eyes narrow to slits, "Go back to America with you… or what?"

"Or die."

A bead of sweat slides the collar of your coat, trickling down your spine, despite the frosty weather, "Ah, I see," you casually stick your hands in your pocket, "So the threats finally come out, huh?"

"It's not a threat if it's the truth… The events that will happen in Seoul in a few months… It won't be safe here for you anymore."

"I'll take my chances," you retort, glancing over at the female bodyguard who suddenly has her hand on her holster again. You had assessed that she was the main bodyguard in charge from the moment you laid eyes on her. You're not sure of the extent of her dark powers, but she must be powerful if she had been chosen to guard your father, out of everyone in the Death Cult. Your hands curl into fists as your body automatically tenses for the fight.

"There won't be any chances," Your father murmurs, interrupting your thoughts, "If you don't go back to America, you will die. Everyone will die.

Your eyes widen in realization, "The plan," you gasp, "The plan… B-but it's been years! And after oppa died, I just thought…"

"Times have changed, my sweet child. We are not just a silly little group of rebels anymore. We have grown far past that since you've been gone… I would be more than happy to show you on our way home. Come on, let's go," he says, holding out a massive hand the size of a dinner plate.

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