Chapter Text
Rain patters against window glass. Violett light shines inside his room, illuminating the dark space. It was already late. The sun set long time ago, but only now his parents came home. He could hear the deep grumble from his fathers voice addressing his mother. Urging her to get in bed, their sleep on a tight schedule. But his mother still stopped at his door.
He tries to hide under his heavy blanket, doesnt want to bereave her of rich minutes of sleep. But she was stubborn. Soundless, she enters his room and almost floats over to his bed. Taking a seat on the edge of it. Her hand falls on his shoulder. Removing the blanket from her sons face.
"I know you´re still awake." her velvety voice whispers, prudent to cause another disturbance to her husband. Caught in his silent lie, he opens his squinted eyes. Falling on a woman's face that is a replication of his own. The lilac light touches her skin softly. Big lips hold a tired smile, appearing more lost than friendly. Dull brown eyes full of love, as she looked at her son. While stress carved itself into her skin, like a knife into a canvas. Deep and harsh. Her tan unnaturally pale. How long since he had seen her face? With her eyes ranking over his face, her mind drifts somewhere else.
A skinny hand brushes through his locks. Bare skin hot against her cold touch. He holds back a shiver. His mother starts a memorized rhythm against his face. One he remembers. She used to do this when he couldn't sleep or had a nightmare. She grazed softly from his nose to his cheeks, over his brows and back to his nose. He closed his eyes. Relishing in the feeling. Filling his heart with warmness only a mother beholds.
"How are you?" continuing while she waits for an answer.
Slowly he opens his eyes again. Watching his mothers gaze follow the motion of her hands. A casting shadow deepening her already hollow face.
"As good as you." he breathed.
A crocked smile falls on her lips as she locks eyes with him. A silent understanding passing between them, as he reciprocates a bitter smile. A few moments of silence pass. Only for a single tear running down his mothers face.
He embraces her immediately. Stroking her back while holding her rocking body. A heavy sob escapes her before she buries her head in his shoulder. He could feel every bone moving under her thin night shirt. Wave after wave leaving her trembling form. Crashing into him. Until one takes him down too and almost drowns him. Filling his eyes with tears and forcing the air out of his lungs. Leaving his body shaken, too. Gone as fast as it came. There is no time to stop or to hold on. Wet shirts and red eyes the aftermath from the storm of emotions.
Swiping away those salty drops of pain, his mother looks at him again. An apologetic look in her eyes that gets demolished with a kind smile from her son. No need to feel sorry for letting go.
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, Jimin."
"How's the training for the U.F.M. going?" she asks. Trembling hands wiping away cold tears.
"Really good."
"That's amazing." Reaching out to hold his hands. She caresses them "I'm proud of you." A kiss lands on a hands back and then on the other. Pulling them towards her face. His mothers face feels cold against his own skin.
Hearing those words, words he worked relentless for. They should give him relive. And for a short moment, Jimin feels light. But reality knocks again. With bony hands and sunken face, he gets greeted. Showing him that what hes working towards will be his death. Its best example sits in the edge of his bed.
"Don't forget to go to the Examination next week or you wont even be let in to your U.F.M. Exam." Interrupting his thoughts. She stands up from her seats. Their time already over, as she bends to give him one last kiss on the forehead. "Now sleep. You have a long day tomorrow."
"What if reality is ruled by something different? Not by human nor god.
Sterile surfaces, blinding lights and obnoxious slip ins. The doctors office was simple but unpersonal and boring. Not even pictures with loved ones or little nick-nacks that decorate the desk.
"So far, Mr. Park, your tests came out better than last time. As always, but a nice surprise everytime." Hunched over the desk, the man cladded in white types away. The keyboard clattering as thick fingers hit every letter.
Beside the the examination of transplants and how the body reacts to them. If you want to be accepted for the U.F.M. Exam you need to do a monthly check-up for a full year before the actual exam.
"Your physical health is above average. Your mental capacities are almost unused and you show fast and improving reflexes. Your body has no issues with the newly added extension. The score, this time, lands you at 9.7 points. Mr. Park, you hit the top ten this time." Everything gets tested. Running, Thinking, Fight or Flight. Its all part of an recruiting process. Logically the government doesnt want capable, healthy and young people to rot away. Especially, not the good ones. And they only pick the best. Top ten. Top twenty. What happens to the rest? He doesnt really know. Only seen a few documentaries of homeless kids and Prostitution. But he thinks its worse than that.
"The issues about your eye implant, you complained about, are not in correlation with your health. But I suggest you contact the company you acquired it from. They can help with replacements and such." The older man turns away from the device and starts searching through a small locker to his right. "With this type of score, normally you would get an recruiting letter from the U.F.M. in no time. But this time there is something standing in the way. As it seems, your mental health is suffering in the last few months. " The man lets himself plop into his chair, a biochip in his hand. With an unreadable expression, he looks eyes with him again.
"Mr. Park, you are suffering from depression."
The room was silent. He needed a moment to process what he was just told. As if it didn't matter. As if this didn't change so many things. As if this was an daily occurrence for the older man and with the way he looked at him, with his dead eyes and hollow cheeks, it might be.
"What happens now?"
"A treatment." the older man tells him casually. Turning away from the younger to put the biochip inside the computer. The data transferring in within seconds. Without a word, the younger watched the man.
"Wich means: A session with your choosed therapist once a week and two types of medication for faster recovery." And with that the consultation with a doctor was over, as the man in white pushed the biochip towards the younger. His fingers huge against the boys smaller ones taking the chip. "Both descriptions for your medication and a recommended psychologist that is specialized in teenager and younger adults are on the biochip."
There were so many questions inside him. So many that he couldn't choose wich one to ask. What does this actually mean? Will he still be able to learn under the U.F.M.? This could be the end to everything he had worked towards, the only thing that kept him going. A future that didn't hold much happiness or kindness but safety. The tiny part of him that had been holding on for so long, starts to losen his hand around the edge hes been hanging on as uncertainties begin to over take this part of him too. What will happen now?
"Is there something else i can help you with?" the doctor addresses him, pulling the boy out of his spiraling thoughts. His face didn't hold any emotions, not even a sorrowful look in his eyes.
"No, everything is fine."
He leaves the room with short goodbye, getting no response as the next patient enters the room after him.
"But by a repetitive motion, ingrained into the fiber of every beeing. Everybody knows but no one sees."
Already waiting with a big smile on his face, showing off his pearly whites, is Jonny. He had came to pick him up. A tradition yet to be brocken. Waving the smaller over as he holds his bike in the other hand. Immediately Jimins grumpy look lights up. Like the love struck idiot he was. As his eyes find the waving boy. All worries seem to disappear. He picks up his pace and stands almost in a minute in front of Jonny. Looking up, as the other was at least one head taller than him. And Jimin was the older of the two. One thing that still infuriates him or maybe turns him on. He hasn't decided yet.
"How did it go?" Jonny's blond hair falls wildly on his head. Probably from training, as they were still a little wet. He already looks hot as he is. But right now, Jimin would like to jump him.
"Hit a score of 9.7"
"No way." Wide eyes and one raised eyebrow. A look Jimin knows too well. "That's amazing."
"Thank you." red dusts over his cheeks. Heating them up. In an act to cover the slowly spreading blush, he puts his hands on his face. Playing all cutesy. But the older gifts him fastly passed look. One with furrowed brows and curled lips. To Jimins demise, he catched that flickering disgust. An immediately reminder that Jonny was soo not into boys. Soo not into him. Playing their interaction down and the shame hes feeling. And his fluttering heart. He turns away and starts walking. Not waiting for Jonny. But he knows he's next to him. The clicking of the bikes spoke an ongoing reminder from Jimin to check the spokes tension.
"But.." worries flow his mind again "I probably won't be accepted to the U.F.M." Looking over his shoulder, Jonny waits for his answer with a soft face. "I got diagnosed with depression." Eyebrows pulled up towards the middle of his forehead and soft smirk on his face, that's what Jimin would have see if he hadn't turned around already.
"Well..." Jonny mutters behind him, sounding sorry. "This is...shit. Is there nothing you can do?"
"I don't know." shrugging "And if, then i have to pass the exam with a score of like... 1.0 to 0.9. And have you ever heard of someone passing with THAT kind of score?"
Jimin gets stopped by a big hand on his shoulder. Massaging the back of his neck. "Hey..." Jonny sounds soft, almost whispering in his ears. "Everything will be alright." Goosebumps shoot all over his body and the almost gone blush lighting up again. Oh, what would Jimin give just to close his eyes and imagine them in a different scenario. With big hands on him and lips on his. But he has to keep calm. Ignoring the shotting electricity in his stomach. The thought about a different future than he imagined passing.
"Whatever the condition may be. I know you can do it." He starts slowly caressing his back. Coming closer to him. He can feel Jonnys breath on the lobe of his ear. "You have always done it. You're a good boy."
As fast as the hands came, as fast they were gone again. Leaving him cold and shell shocked. He sucks in a breath, covering his spreading arousal as breathing in the given courage. But his breath is too shaky. Like a dog tasting blood, Jonny was a bloodhound. He knows his pray and on some day's he likes to play with its fresh meat. And today was such a beautiful day to get the juices flowing. For Jimin those antic should be obvious. Some he shouldn't tell too much into them. As Jonny treats everybody he knows with the same kind of closeness. But on some days, he likes to think its because of him. Living in a fantasy too far to reach. Indulging in them.
"Common now." Walking past Jimin with a pep in his step "The other's are already waiting."
One day, Jonny will break Jimin's hearth. He knows that. But. Jimin is too self-harming to ever pull away.
"Pushing us through rather than gently guiding us."
There is someone staring back. A reflection of a person. Skin turned pale, eyes turned bleak. No sparkle nor shine. A shell so foreign to him, as hes not able to recognize the man in the mirror. This is his new reality. Sunken face scrunching into a frustrated frown. Was he still alive? Or a copy of himself? A bad one, more like an android. A poorly programmed and designed one at that.
No, he is not sick. His inner refuses to accept this fate. His soul is sucked dry and he is a bad replica of himself but not sick.
He removed his eyes from the figure in the reflection, almost scared that reality is only this and nothing else. His view drifts outside his room. Past the towers. Past the thick glass wall that is keeping all citizens save from the danger lurking outside. A waste land expands around the dome. Golden sand extends itself to the horizon. Wind blows it around, the little particles dance in the air. Rocks and cliffs shape a scenery. No river is cutting through and rain never pours from the sky. Untouched and so peaceful.
While they try everything in these glassboxes to keep humanity alive, outside regains strength. Nature remains and thrives. Freed from the parasites than once roamed its surface. A long history of events leaded humankind to its present, but its unclear what exactly happend. Many things were lost over time. Records of older civilisation. Technological Progress. Countries. Manners and customs. People, loved ones, bloodlines. All of them vanished with the first nuke launching into the sky. Touching the ground and setting the start for the third world war. No blood was shed, but many died brutally.
After that, humankind didn't get enough time to collect themselves. A ripple effect of natural disasters, famines and global warming pushed the remaining humans to their limits. But as Humans are build to adapt, they got stronger. The remaining leaders gather and with that the idea of a sanctuary was born. A hundred years later the project "Humansky" launched the first "Blackboats" into the air. An engineering challenge, back then and even today. A half glass doom covering a mega metropolis. With an inner city, a lake and even a small beach. A filtersystem added in a realistic weather mechanic, beside filtering used water into clean one. Our natural habitat turned from the green earth to a blue sky.
He doesnt know what lies past the horizon or how other areas look like. There are a 5 other "Blackboats". Not nearly enough for the remaining. The most influential passed through the locks without a problem, before the boats started to take off. What happend to those left behind is unclear. Now, only high ranking officials are allowed to travel between the boats and to space. A journey through the waste land to dangerous and space travel to expensive for commoners.
How sad. How tragic you cant buy happiness.
"Its chaos. Chaos stands present in the background and follows us like a shadow."
The way home from one of the many galas he had to attend was silent. Almost deadly silent. But Jimin's thoughts were else where. Without realizing it, their black hovercar landed outside their designated parking space. One floor beneath his families apartment. Without realizing, the gruesome look his father throws at him. And the way he seems to have a hard time keeping his anger at bay. Only when his mother steps out of the car, Jimin comes back to reality. Staring his father right in the face. He knows what is about to come. So he keeps siting. Watching the graying men close the door after his wife in a swift motion.
"Who did you talk to?" His cold voice seeping into every crack of the black leather. Of course, he noticed. That's the only thing his father notices. Who else would have? Not even his mother saw him talking with that guy on the bar.
"I don't know what you're talking about." A dead blank stare, closing off his walls. This time won't hurt. Jimin has to promise himself that.
"Yes, you know exactly what I'm talking about." his expression turning hotter. "We talked about that! I don't care with who or what you fuck but I dont accept this..." he points at Jimin accusingly. Laying his next words with venom "This disgusting behavior. Especially not at an event."
"I didn't planned on fucking him." like oil to flames, he threw fuel into the fire. Creating a hazard of spiking flames, burning him. Coaling him. The wall he build was torn and broken. Nothing can shield his heart anymore.
His father once collected voice turned even sourer. And louder. Face standing in competition with ripe Tomatoes and popping with veins. "I dont give a fuck what you were planning! It looked like you were about to jump on his dick like the faggot you are. In front of all those people! In front of my business partner!"
A moments passes without both saying anything. Only ragged breathing could be heard.
Jimin`s face was blank. Hiding all emotions. Unreadable but perfectly adapted. He watches his father crumble. As if it was a burden, he runs his hands over his face. Sighing. Maybe, Jimin was too blind to see the problem behind loving whoever you wanted. Maybe, there was never a problem to begin with but just lost acceptance and love.
"You should be grateful that we let you be the way you are and that you can do whatever you want." Now looking up, their eyes meet. Both not wavering. "But you're still ungrateful. Kicking it with your feet and walking all over it. This needs to stop. All of it." His father stands up from his seat. Straightening his suit and brushing over the expensive material. "I will arrange a married. Maybe that will get your head in the right place." Stepping out of the car, he leaves his son behind. Not even once looking back at him. Leaving behind a tears soaking son.
Their relationship was not always like that. He gifted him love all the time. Showered him in gifts and affection. Nurtured him. Cared for him. But the older he got, the more those things turned into privileges. The kisses on the forehead. Holding him down when he's scared or sad. Kind words, hugs and caresses. And for the loss of all the great times was only one reason. One that his father will never accept. He was their only child. The only person able to gift another generation their name. And his father, he would go over corpses to do what is need to continue his families legacy.
And even though, Jimin build up those walls to never hold onto those words. They still bruise him everytime.
"It keeps its distance, but sometimes you can feel its touch. Not cold, not warm, but present."
Jimin stares at himself in the mirror. His mind going in circles at his fathers words.
"Jimin, are you coming?" he slightly jumps as his mother steps into his room. "Sorry. I was just checking if everything looks good." he excuses. Her long black dress drags over the carpet as she walks towards him. With her hands she straightens out his tie after she brushed over his black Jackett. "You look amazing." she compliments him. There is a soft blush on her cheeks and her eyes seem to shine more. "You too." he says, smiling back to her with a full row of teeth. Its nice to see her in a good mood and well rested. His mother always enjoyed galas and events, if there was some spare time she would even help out planning everything. He once asked her why. " The Music, the guests, the food, ugh.. probably everything. Its just-the whole room is buzzing with energy. People are dancing. They´re eating well and everyone enjoys themself a little bit. Well, if its a good one at least."
"But maybe you should tame your hair a little bit more." brushing through his dark hair, some strands fall lose in his face. "You know your dad doesnt like this look." he turns back to the mirror to hide him rolling his eyes. His father always wanted a sleek, proper young man that will take after the families heritage. But Jimin didn't fit into the old mans standard. Even though he worked hard to be everything his father wished him to be. With a light touch over his back, his mother leaved his room. Not wanting her husband getting angry at her delay. Saying a light hurry before she leaves his door slightly ajar. He could hear her leaving the apartment to return to their car.
Touching the lose strands, he twists them between his fingers. Looking at broken ends. Normally, he would do anything to fit into his fathers grid but he was not in the mood today. Not after his stupid idea to marry a unknown person. And a woman at that. He heard the front door open again. At best its his mom. At worst its his dad to finally collect him. Hurrying to take his phone and headphones, he shouts "Im coming, Mom!" praying its his mom.
With quick steps he is about to leave his room, hand already on the doors handle as a hand wraps around the doors edge. A hand without flesh cladded in red crome, pushing the door to his room open. With a devilish smirk a man with half a face of an android stands in front of him.
"Not your mother little boy." the stranger says with a accent heavy on his tongue. Pushing forward into the boy's space to make room for two other strangers. The last person to enter the boys room closes his door. Its only the four of them now.
"What are you- who are you- get out!" he shouts rather loudly. Scared of what might come. Walking backwards he walks further into his room. Jimin holds up his hands, trying to mimic some kind of protective stand. However his whole body betraying him, calling him out to the whole group. Shaking with fear and adrenalin. "Get out or I call the police!" he threatens, at least tries. But the trio only laughs at his patheticness. Without a word a hand snaps out towards the youngers throat. The cold metal squeezing his airways tight. Leaving him heaving for air. Panicking, jimin claws at the strangers hand. But with no luck. The metal wont budge. The smirk growing into a devious smile watching the younger struggle. He was helpless. Fighting with all his power. Hanging from a strangers hand. Gasping for air, the boy gets ready to scream. But before single word could leave his mouth, another strangers hand wraps around his mouth. Cold flesh against his warm breath.
"Shhh, we dont wanna mama and papa to hear us, right?" he couldn't see him. Could only feel the way this mans body pressed against his. The way his other hand began to roam. His breath and hands had a weird metallic smell to them, making Jimins stomach churn. Trying to get away, turning his body left and right. Only to be pressed tighter into the man. At least the hand on his throat was gone.
Starting to regain his breathing, the hand that tightened around his jaw didn't made it easier for him. The smell making him sick to his stomach.
"Remember the mission." the half android snarled, as he watched one of his members groom their target. Moving out of Jimins vision, he could only hear the other ones talk. A different language, one he didnt recognize. Even though the roaming hands on his body didnt made it easy, he tried to regain some clarity. Trying to form a plan to escape, to call the police, to get to his parents, something to get him out of this situation. Alive at best. He didnt stop throwing himself around. Tossing and turning stronger, as dirty hands start to focus on his lower part.
For his luck, the dirty hands from the stranger where gone in a second. Before something happend. Shoving his teammate to the back as the leader of the three growled something in their language. The hands were gone, now would be the best moment to run. To grab his phone. To move. But he couldn't. He just couldn't move. His legs were shaking and his heart pumping with adrenalin. But he was frozen. Bound to the ground like robes holding him down. Pulling on his ankles, pulling him deeper to the ground. Fallacy, they were not robes. It was ivy, poisonous as its leaves scrape his skin. Crawling up his legs. Further and further. Until they reached his neck. Curling around it, leaving no room to breath. Holding him. Holding him down and taking the air. As the vines creep into his mouth, into his lungs.
He cant breath.
But he can still feel.
Feel the way strange hands touch him. Cold metal against his heated skin. A needle pocking into his arm and a liquid entering his veins. It feels like a blessing in disguise. As it pushes past the ivy inside his body, numbing him. The drug reaching its peak in a few seconds and he feels weightless. As his body gets numb and hits the ground, his mind still reals inside.
Everything passes in a haze. Words and riddles spoken in a unknown tongue. Hands gripping his neck, pushing him around. His vision turning from his dark grey carpet to his bed, as they pull him into a kneeling position. He sways, left and right. No strength left to hold himself up. To move or to speak. A leg gets positioned next to him to prevent him from falling over. Hands grab his hair roughly as they connect his neuralport to the computer on his bed. The nails dig into his scalp. Hurting him but he cant speak. He attempts to. Opening his mouth, moving his tongue. But no words are uttered. As the hands leave, his head falls between his shoulder. His vision back to the ground.
Their talking becomes background noise. Almost like a lullaby, they sing him into a sleep-like state. While he forces himself to keep his eyes open, he watches his spit hit the ground. Drooling from his chin and forming a wet patch. He doesnt know how long it been since these strangers entered his room. The patch between his leg getting bigger by the minute. He is almost completely asleep, when he hears a familiar beeping sound. Someone just entered the apartment.
"no..." he heaves into his chest, gaining the attention from the strangers. Hands find his raven locks. Picking his head up, he comes face first with the leader again. Red eyes stare into his. "What did my sweet boy say?"
"Someone..." he heaves again, his eyes rolling back inside his head at the mere strength this small word took from him. A strong pull inside his chest, painfully almost. One he wants to rub, to sooth but cant. And if he could focus for more than one second, he could have seen the surprise showing inside the strangers eyes. Having not heard someone entering the apartment. The hand leaves his hair again. His head bouncing back painfully between his shoulders as panic sweeps into the room. Jimin groans lowly. Their voices getting quieter, hushing back and forth. Moving back and forth. Typing something into the computer in front of him.
"Jimin?" the softness of his mothers voice sounding close to his room. "What is taking you so long? Your dad is already more than annoyed."
Click
Click
Click
She was coming closer by the second.
"no..." he says, louder this time. The pulling in his chest getting more intense, he could cry from the pain. "Mom.."
Grunting, he picks up his head again. Taking every piece of strength left in his body. The drug seems to lose its effect, but the ivy prods and pounds back as a placeholder. Taking the air from his lungs. A tear rolls down his cheek. From the pain in his chest or the fact that his mother will soon come face to face with these intruders, he doesnt know. His vision sways but for the first time, he could make sense of what was going on around him.
One of the strangers continues to type furiously into the computer on his bed. Holding him up with his leg stretched to the side. Yellow on dark background creating sentences in the same language he didnt understand. The other one prepares another syringe of the drug. A dark liquid spurts from the cannula as the metal finger knocks against it. The one from the hospital turns to the rucksack next to his bed. And pulls out a gun. One he had never seen before. But by the shape and size of it, he didnt had to guess.
"please..." he huffs "please dont..." his pleading eyes try to find the gunslinger ones. But the mans only interest is the closed door, hiding behind it. Focused on the steps coming closer.
"Jimin?" his mothers voice sounded alarmed, worried. She knew something was not right. But as stubborn as she always was, the clicking of her shoes continued. "Jimin, why are you not answering?"
Please turn around... he prays. He hopes she will just leave it. But he know this is not going to happen. He knows his mother.
The steps halt in front of his closed door. At the same moment, he feels another syringe of the sedative entering his veins. There is soft knock against the hard wood and the knob turns around.
"Jimin?" the door gets pushed open. There she stands in the door frame. A once worried look turning to a panicked one, as she registers what is going on. Her eyes swaying from her son to the two intruders next to him. Her child was in danger "Get away from my son or im calling the police!" she almost growls. Jimin falls over, as the supporting leg was removed. He falls face first into the wet puddle he created. Wetting one side of his face. Both men step a few feet away from Jimin, hands held up in defense. Their eyes are looked on his mothers form, never raising suspicion that there was one more of them.
Numbness overtakes his body again. Leaving him laying almost lifeless on the ground. He tries to focus, so he doesnt fall asleep. But his vision slowly closes in on him.
"please...dont.." he whispers, not to his mom but to the men behind the door. The pull in his chest getting stronger again. He fells like losing air with every breath he takes. A pained expression was all it toke for her to start moving. The first step and then another. Determination in her eyes. She needed to help her son, her child. So without a thought of possible danger she tries to safe him.
As she passes the door, a gun is pointed at her head without her knowing. The barrel layered thick with gunk from the last shots he fired. A tear rolls down his cheek. And another. He wants to shout, to warn her. But no words leave his mouth. The drug keeping his body bound to the ground and his tongue cut. He tries to move his arms, his legs. Tries to pull himself up. But with no success. And before he could stop it, a laser ripples trough the air.
Piercing through his mothers head and shattering the window in front of her.
Heaving as more tears flow down his face, he fells numb. Not from the drug, not from the pain. Seeing his mothers lifeless body hit the ground, brain splattered over his carpet, he feels himself slipping away. Tears combine with spit on the ground. He could feel his body rocking with emotions. Salty waves swallowing him and pushing him further away. He screams. At least that's what he thinks he does. With the way everything feels so far away but too close at the same time, he doesnt know. He tries to reach out to her, to touch her dark hair. But she was too far away. Only a tiny bit of strength left.
With the way she had fallen, he could only see the top of her head. And if he wouldn't know it better, he could almost imagine her only laying down. Only resting as she sometimes did with him when he was younger. Talking to him and telling him stories about her life. About her dreams. And about his future.
Slowly, with every breath, he slipped away. His eyes closing even though he tried his hardest to keep them open.
And as he started to drift of into a numbing sleep, he only wished the laser would have killed him.
"As you look around and watch your life crumble. Reminding you that without chaos, a new beginning cannot be born."