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Okay, so here's my first shot at an epic in COT. Don't expect it to be updated very often, though -- I have a lot of other stuff to do. Expect maybe one update every two weeks, if I'm lucky. Review topic is here.

 

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Prologue:

 

00:00

21st July

2012

Somewhere in the south of Ireland

 

Three men scaled a mountain. The one in front was pale, somewhere in his thirties, with short dark hair and emerald eyes.

The second was tanned – the real stuff, this hadn’t come out of a bottle – with long blonde hair, brown eyes, an untidy beard and a face which made him seem like he was in his twenties, although it wasn’t beyond reason that it might be made more of plastic than actual face at this point.

The last was large and muscular, with a blank face and grey eyes which stared into the middle distance, not focusing on anything in particular.

“How much further is it?” The second man asked. He spoke with an American accent, and he sounded exhausted.

“Not much further,” the first replied. He had a strong Irish accent, and although he too seemed to be out of breath, he sounded more excited than tired. Indeed, he was correct; a few moments later, the three men stood at the mountain’s peak, before a steep cliff.

The second man’s eyes lit up, and he walked up to the edge.

“You shouldn’t do that,” the Irishman warned; “You might fall.”

The American turned and glared, silencing the other man. Although he was the shortest, and seemed to be the physically weakest, of the three, he had a certain aura of power surrounding him. He had always commanded an amount of respect, even before he had gained celebrity status. You would have to search for a long time to find someone who didn’t know Damian Hall’s name, and even longer to find someone who knew more about his fortune than ‘it’s big’.

Damian turned to the large man, who removed a large rucksack from his shoulders, and pulled out a long rope. A lone tree stood at the edge of the cliff, and the large man tied the rope around it, before attaching it to a harness, which he handed to Damian.

Damian clipped the harness on, then climbed slowly down the face of the cliff.

When he hit the ground, he took off the harness, and brushed some dirt off his jeans. His shoes were caked in mud, which was a shame, as in the day and a half since he had bought them for an obscene amount of money he had grown rather attached to them.

He looked up, and turned around, walking along the foot of the cliff, until he reached a point where it opened into the mouth of a cave. He grinned, and stepped inside.Damian brushed a spider web aside as he walked through the dark tunnel. He pulled a torch out of his pocket and flicked it on, jumping back slightly as the beam of light revealed a skeleton, held in place by webs and blocking his path. He took a second to compose himself, then smirked, pushing the corpse out of the way and continuing through.Soon, he reached a large room, and his eyes lit up again as they settled on six coffins, each coated in a thick layer of dust.He approached the first, and wiped the dust away, revealing a strange symbol with three spikes and an eye in the centre. “Necromancy;”He did the same to the second, and this time there was an image of a head, and three symbols like lightning beside it. “Telekinesis;"

The third, an eye. “Foresight;”

A scroll. “Mind reading;”

A crescent moon. “Teleportation;”

Last of all, a cloud. “Electricity. They’re all here!”

This was it. He had found the tomb of the Marked.

As soon as he got out of there, he was going to start making plans. He was going to come back first thing in the morning with a proper team, unveil his discoveries to the Cult, and finally earn their respect.

Turning to leave, he saw a seventh coffin, resting against the other wall. He walked slowly over to it, and brushed the dust off carefully, revealing an image of an hourglass. “What?”

Damian stepped back, then looked thoughtfully at it. He nodded to himself, and carefully opened the coffin.

A hand immediately wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air. He struggled, trying to pull it away, but his eyes widened as he saw wrinkles forming on his own hands. His hair and beard grew longer, becoming grey, and his eyes began to sink back into his skull, his skin now stretched so tightly that his bones were clearly visible. At last, the hand released its grip, letting Damian fall to the ground, dead.

Stepping over Damian’s corpse, the being opened each of the other coffins, one by one, allowing the corpses within to fall out. A coloured sphere of light appeared in each of their chests, before floating upwards and through the ceiling.

His work complete, the being walked out of the room, the webs turning to dust as he passed them. He nodded solemnly at the skeleton Damian had pushed aside, then exited the cave. After so long, the time had finally come:

The Marked would be reborn.

 

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Edited by Sam Tyler

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Chapter 1 – Alex

 

15:14

20th July

2012

A town in the south of England

 

---A fifteen-year-old boy sat on a bus.

---This was an unremarkable thing. In fact, he was an unremarkable boy, or at least would be for a few more hours.

---The boy’s name was Alex. He had very pale skin, blue eyes, and messy blonde hair. In terms of attractiveness, you could probably say he was pretty decent-looking. He certainly wasn’t ugly, and didn’t seem to have any of the difficulties with spots his peers were having, likely due to the massive amount of time he spent on personal hygiene.---He wore a light grey hoodie, with the hood up, black jeans, a medium-blue T-shirt, and a pair of black converse. He gazed out the window, although he wasn’t paying attention to anything that went by, caught up in his own thoughts.

---As he noticed someone sitting down beside him, he turned to glare at them, planning to make them uncomfortable enough that they would disturb someone else’s personal space. However, his eyes widened slightly as he realised that this was actually someone he knew. “Hi.”---He bit his tongue immediately after saying it. He hadn’t meant to. He probably shouldn’t have. But he still felt slightly proud of himself for having done so.

---“Hi?” The person who had seated themselves beside Alex actually had a lot in common with him. Their skin, much like Alex’s, was quite pale, and like him they also had blonde hair and blue eyes.---What was different between them was that the person sitting beside Alex was a girl. She wasn’t just any girl – to be honest, Alex had been paying an unusual amount of attention to her, although he had never actually spoken to her. There were two reasons for this:---The first was that Alex was introverted by nature, and socially awkward at the best of times. Talking to guys he knew well was a challenge to him, nevermind girls he barely knew, especially ones he was interested in.

---The second was that, last he had checked, she was the girlfriend of a guy named Ryan.---Ryan was by no means a nice person. He was cruel and sadistic, and he controlled pretty much everyone from the age of eleven to seventeen, whether inside school or out of it. He tended to avoid Alex, though, which was fine by him.

---However, the one thing that Alex could do to get himself a death sentence would be to speak to Ryan’s girlfriend, Christina.

---Which brings us back to the fact that she was sitting beside him. “Hey, I know you.”---“You do?” said Alex, his eyes lighting up. “I mean, yeah, you do.”

---“You’re in my class at school, right? Alan?”

---The light flickered and died. “Um... Alex, actually.”

---“Oh. Alright.” Christina looked at the back of the seat in front of them, and whistled quietly for a couple of seconds, then turned back to Alex. “So, how are you?”

---“I’m... fine,” he responded, before turning to the window again. “Are you sure you should be talking to me?”---“Well, I don’t see why not.” Christina shrugged.

---“Well, there is the rather small matter of your boyfriend brutally killing me.” Alex pointed out.

---“Oh, you mean Ryan?” Christina looked down sadly at the floor. “We’re not going out anymore.”

---“Oh?” Inside his mind, Alex afforded himself a smile. On the outside, he faked a frown, but tried not to overdo it.

---“Don’t feel sad for me,” Christina said. “I dumped him, not the other way around.”

---“Am I allowed to feel worried for your life?”

---“If you want. I can deal with him, though.” She laughed. “So, where’s your stop?”

---Alex looked out the window to get an idea of where they were. “Um... somewhere back there.”

---Christina’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to say something.

---“It’s okay, I’ll just get off at the next stop.” He sighed. “Well, it was nice talking to you.”

---“Same,” she smiled.

 

- - -

 

00:27

21st July

2012

 

---Alex sat up in bed, gasping for air. He tried to control his breathing, and then looked around, seeing his room in darkness. He reached out to grab his clock, only to feel a sharp pain in his left arm, just below the shoulder.

---He climbed out of the bed, being sure not to hit his arm off anything, and made his way to the bathroom. He flicked on the light, and then walked over to the mirror to examine his arm. He rubbed his eyes, and then the mirror, to make sure that he was seeing right.

---On his left arm, there was now a tattoo of a cloud. And it seemed to be glowing.

 

- - -

 

13:48

21st July

2012

---Alex sat on a park bench. He wore the same clothing as he had the day before (except for the shirt, which he had switched out for a different one in the same colour), and had his hood up yet again. Across from him, Christina sat with a few of her friends. She hadn’t noticed him.

---He wasn’t stalking her. He was just out, and happened to have seen her. It wasn’t really stalking, when you thought about it. True, he might have followed her to the park, but he was planning to go there anyway.

---He tilted his head as he saw her friends suddenly getting up and moving quickly away. The question of why was soon answered as Ryan came into view, a few of his loyal minions standing behind him. He reached out his hand towards Christina, but she pulled back, shouting something at him. Alex felt something stirring inside him, and before he knew what he was doing, he stood up and began walking towards them.

---Ryan turned around to face Alex, but didn’t recognise him. He grinned at his thugs, who stood around him, looking threatening.

---“Leave her alone, Ryan.” Alex warned.

---“Or what?” He growled.

---A breeze blew through the park. It was cold, somehow unnatural, and as it threw back Alex’s hood his eyes began to glow blue. “Leave. Her. Alone.

---The thugs stepped back, but Ryan stood still, glaring at Alex. “Fancy lightshow, freak. Now come closer so that I can punch those lights of yours out.”

---Electricity began crackling at Alex’s fingertips. He wasn’t sure how he was doing it – it felt like he was no longer in control of his own body. “I tried to warn you.”

---He lifted his arms, his palms facing the group. The electricity flashed out, striking Ryan and his minions, and scorching Ryan’s face. Christina looked fearfully at Alex, and then ran away. Slowly, the light in his eyes faded, and the wind calmed. In control of himself once again, Alex looked down at the unconscious bodies below him, then at the crowd which had gathered in the park.

---He was in trouble.

Edited by Sam Tyler

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  • 2 weeks later...

Chapter 2 – David

10:13
21st July
2012
Belfast, Northern Ireland

---Some people just have abnormally good luck. It’s a fact of life.
---David was such a person.
---David was good at pretty much everything, be it academic, artistic, or sporty. He was pretty good-looking, which also helped earn him the respect of his peers, and since he was actually a pretty nice guy, he was often looked up to. This also meant that he was more likely to be invited out to places by friends than the majority of other people.
---He was seventeen, just about average height, with long brown hair and green eyes, and his skin was quite pale, although that was the usual for anyone who had been born and raised in Ireland.
---He had everything he could possibly want, and more, but it came at the price of pretty much never seeing his parents (highly-paid jobs, where they could be found, had the problem of long hours). Although, sometimes that might have been a good thing, because it avoided the arguments other people had with their parents about coming home late at night. David couldn’t even remember coming home last night.
---Honestly, David just couldn’t remember last night.
---So it was that when he found himself standing in front of the mirror, looking curiously at a tattoo on his shoulder, he felt that he should never again trust himself with alcohol if he had this little taste when under its influence.
---He yawned and shook his head, before walking back into his room and pulling on a red T-shirt. He walked downstairs, getting himself a bowl of cereal and turning the TV on, before sitting in front of it and beginning to eat.
---“In the news this morning, American singer Damian Hall has gone missing during a vacation in Cork in the south of Ireland. Police are asking that anyone with information comes forward, but they don’t seem to have much hope of actually finding him.”
---David flicked the TV off. He was sick of bad-news stories, and he’d never been a big fan of Hall. The man had always seemed a bit self-centred to him.
---He grabbed his wallet and walked out the door, planning to walk to the nearest shop. He started across the road, when everything around him suddenly froze. In his mind’s eye, he saw a car driving at him, and he saw himself jumping into the air as it slowed, landing on the hood. He shook his head, and looked down, finding himself standing on the bonnet of a car, the driver staring at him, eyes wide. But... I imagined that... right?
---David climbed down off the car, apologising, before backing away. He was too shocked to notice the person behind him, even as he hit them and nearly knocked them over. It was a teenage boy with greasy black hair, who was abnormally thin and looked about sixteen. “Sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going...”
---“What was that?” the boy asked, staring at David much as the driver had.
---David shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
---“Were they super-powers? How did you get them? Were you bitten by a radioactive spider?” He sounded somewhat excited.
---“I don’t know if they were super-powers, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t bitten by a radioactive spider.” David sighed, not noticing that he was still walking down the street and steadily approaching an alley, the boy now in tow.
---“What would happen if you were bitten by a radioactive spider?” Although his questions were somewhat idiotic, there was something in his eyes that unnerved David. Something cold, and calculating.
---“You would die,” David replied, shaking his head.
---“Are you sure?”
---David stopped, and turned to look at the boy. “Pretty sure, yeah. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave now.”
---“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Even as David starting walking away, he felt something stopping him, holding him in place, and noticed that they were now inside the alley, out of sight. “You’re not the only one here with powers.”
---David stopped struggling for movement, turning to look at the boy. “Who are you?”
---“You can call me Liam,” he smirked. “I would ask your name, David, but I already know it.”
---“How... how do you know my name?” David tried to back away, only to find himself stopped once again.
---“Your families tried to hide it. They tried to bury the past. But mine?” Liam began laughing. “Mine embraced it. We kept tabs on the other families, and every time another was born into our own bloodline, the legends were passed on. I was reminded of my destiny every night before I slept, and I knew that the day would come when I would take on the power of my ancestor’s Mark.”
---As he heard Liam mention the Mark, David thought back to the tattoo he’d seen on his shoulder that morning. “Wait, you mean that tattoo gave me these powers?”
---“No, that ‘tattoo’ represents your powers. The powers are in you, the Mark proves it.” Liam replied, shaking his head. “Now, if you’ll let me get to it, I came here to make you an offer.”
---“What kind of offer?”
---“We are Marked. The first among us came into existence thousands of years ago, but they were sealed away, and their powers sealed with them. Last night, the powers were released, and they reached the six descendants of the original Marked.” He explained, calmly, the tone of his voice reminding David of a teacher. “The Marked were born to rule over humans. Our powers make us superior to them.”---“But... we are human.” David pointed out.
---“We are not human. Humans are parasites with ego, and nothing more.” Liam hissed. “We are the flesh of humans, with the power of gods. And soon, we will be worshipped as gods.”
---“You’re insane.” David tried to get away a third time, only to be stopped once more. “I’m not going to let you do this.”
---“And how do you plan to stop me?” Liam chuckled. “Use your powers to see into the future before I attack you? You are working on instinct. You cannot bring out your full potential until your power is mastered.”
---“I don’t see how it matters.” David ran at Liam, moving around him and throwing a punch at his back. Liam spun around, but even as he made the final decision in his mind David saw himself blocking the punch he tried to return with, grabbing Liam’s hand.
---“You can only predict attacks once they are guaranteed to come. That’s your weakness.” On the ground, a coin began to shake, before lifting up into the air. “Let’s see how you do now.”
---The coin began to spin, dropping down. As soon as he saw the coin facing him directly, Liam lashed out at David with a kick, which the other boy failed to block. “The coin creates two realities – had I seen the head, I would have punched you. But I saw the tail, and only then were you able to see it coming. But that was too late, wasn’t it?”
---The coin lifted up once again, and Liam swept his foot around beneath David, making him lose his balance and fall. Before he had a chance to get up or block, Liam kicked him in the side, and began walking away, leaving his enemy lying on the ground. “I thought this would be easier, David. I’m disappointed in you, betraying your destiny like this. But, perhaps you will see the light later. Until then, I just have to find and turn the others.”
---David turned his head, watching Liam disappear, laughing, into the distance. The world began to grow dark as his eyes closed over, sounds growing distant as he drifted into unconsciousness.

- - -

---David’s eyes opened and he stood up, only to find himself standing in what appeared to be some form of police station. He saw a boy, with messy blonde hair and a hoodie, being led through it by two policemen, his head down.
---“You’re going in there, mate.” One of the policemen said, gesturing at a small cell. He spoke with an English accent.
---“Are you allowed to do that?” The boy asked.
---“We’re not going to sit around with a guy who can shoot lightning out of his bloody hands.” The second one chuckled. “Honestly, kid, I don’t know what the heck you did out there. People are saying you electrocuted three guys, and we’ve got three unconscious teenagers with scorch marks.”
---“Electrified.” The boy corrected.
---“What?”
---“The word is ‘electrified’. Electrocution is death by electrification.”
---“Just get into the bloody cell.” The policeman growled, obviously irked.

- - -

---David jumped up, looking around. He was back in the alley, and he felt like he’d been beaten to a pulp. He then remembered that he had, in fact, been beaten to a pulp.
---He looked up, seeing the sun just about in the centre of the sky. He’d at least been out for a few hours. “Great,” he muttered, “Today is just going great.”

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Edited by Sam Tyler

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  • 2 weeks later...

Chapter 3 – Eve

 

19:26

20th July

2012

Manhattan, New York

 

---A sixteen-year-old girl sat in her bedroom, strumming softly on a guitar.

---Her name was Eve. Her skin, although pale, had some evidence of colour, her eyes were a deep blue, and her hair was short and blonde, with a fringe that covered her eyebrows and a significant amount of the right-hand side of her face. She wore a lilac T-shirt, and black jeans.

---Her parents, Mark and Sarah, were in the living room watching TV. Although they didn’t hear the guitar – or at least didn’t register it, as Eve was almost always playing it, and they had grown used to hearing it – the thump made as their daughter hit the floor, unconscious, was clearly audible.

 

- - -

 

---We should have sent her to a hospital. I know we should have, I should never have listened to Mark, he knows nothing about these things..

.--She’ll wake up. She’ll wake up, and she’ll be fine, Sarah is just overreacting.

---Great. A dog. That’s wonderful, really. Why don’t we make my day a little worse? The universe hates me. That’s just it. The whole universe hates me.

---Just wait ‘til she gets off the phone and turns into the alley. The knife is in your pocket. You pull it out, and get her money. That easy. That easy.

---I can’t believe John was cheating on me. Actually cheating on me. I mean, on me. How could he? How could he want anyone over me?

---Eve’s eyes opened, and she turned her head, looking across the room. She was lying on the bed, and she was surrounded by voices, very few of which she recognised, and although she didn’t know it her eyes had gone from blue to a dark shade of purple.

---She tried to get up, only to find herself unable to summon the strength. There was a sharp pain in her left arm, but she tried to ignore it, putting it down to having hurt herself at some point.

---Suddenly, it dawned on Eve that she was lying fully-clothed in bed, which even for her was slightly unusual behaviour. She thought back, trying to work out how she’d gotten there, but the last thing she could remember she was sitting on the edge of the bed, playing guitar...

---She sighed, and tried to call out for her mother, but all that came out was a small croak. Resigning herself to sleeping a while longer, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift away, trying to block out the voices in her head.

 

- - -

 

09:23

21st July

2012

Manhattan, New York

 

---Eve opened her eyes again, looking around herself. Light leaked into the room through the curtains, just enough to suggest that it was morning. She sighed, and tried to pick herself up, just managing to sit up on the bed with what little strength she had. She reached for her phone (which she had left lying next to her bed the night before), and picked it up. It wasn’t anything terribly fancy or girly; it was simple and black, and looked a little cheap.

---She typed quickly, before setting the phone down and returned to sitting up on the bed, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

 

- - -

 

10:46

21st July

2012

Manhattan, New York

---A raven-haired girl walked up to the door of Eve’s home, and rang the doorbell politely.

---Alice was seventeen, although in truth she was just a few months older than Eve, she had brown eyes, and she looked Asian, but this was just something she’d gotten from her parents, as she was American by birth.---A few seconds later, Sarah came to the door. Her red hair was tied into a ponytail at the back of her head, and her blue eyes regarded Alice suspiciously from behind her glasses. “I’m sorry, Eve isn’t well at the moment. If you want, I can get her to call you when she’s feeling better.”

---Alice didn’t say anything in response, simply pulling her phone out of her pocket and showing Sarah the text she had received from Eve.---“Oh, okay.” Sarah still seemed slightly suspicious, but quite a bit less so. “I guess you can come in.”

---“Thank you,” Alice smiled, stepping into the house. It was a little messy, but it always seemed to be. It wasn’t off-putting, just... comfortable, in a strange way.

---She ascended the stairs, then knocked on the door of Eve’s room. Not waiting for a reply, she opened it and came in, closing it behind her. Eve was sitting on her bed, playing Angry Birds on her phone. “So, what did you want me for?”

---Eve looked up when Alice spoke, only just noticing her, then closed the game and motioned for Alice to sit down on the end of the bed. “I have... a problem.”

---“Is this about Sam?” Alice asked, taking a seat.

---“No, it’s not.” Eve sighed.

---“It’s about Sam, isn’t it?” Alice smiled.

---“Not all of my problems have to do with Sam!” Eve shouted (or, tried to; her voice was still quite quiet), clearly irritated.

---“Most of them do, though.”

---There was silence for a few seconds while Eve tried to think up a response, then she sighed. “I’ve started hearing voices.”

---“Oh?” Alice’s smile disappeared, her face taking on an expression of concern.

---“I think... I think they’re people’s thoughts.” Eve had been considering this for a long time, and short of insanity, it seemed to be the best explanation. Especially seeing as Alice’s voice had recently joined the others: She’s gone insane. “I haven’t.”

---Did she just...? Nah. “I’m sorry, what?”

---“You think I’m insane,” Eve said. Her voice had grown even quieter.

---“No, I don’t.” Alice reassured.

---“You just said it. Well, your mouth didn’t move, so I should probably say you just thought it.”

---Alice stared at Eve, fear slightly present in her eyes. “That was a lucky guess.”

---“No, it wasn’t,” Eve tried to explain. “I can really hear what you think. Everyone else around me too.”

---Alice looked thoughtfully at Eve for a few seconds. “Alright. I believe you. How long has this been going on?”

---Eve shrugged. “Last night, I woke up and they were just there.”---“Why do you think it’s happening? Are you able to turn it off?” Alice’s expression had changed, the concern replaced by curiosity and excitement.

---“I don’t know, and I’m not sure how to turn it off, although I’m able to make the voices quieter when I focus on my own thoughts.” Eve explained, calmly.

---“Can you focus on specific people?”---“I don’t know.” Eve shrugged. “I don’t think I’m ready for anything like that yet, anyway.”

---Alice was silent for a short while, trying to think of any questions that Eve might know the answers to. “Do you think you’re the only one?”

---“No.” This time, Eve sounded completely certain. “I just have this... feeling, that there are others out there. I can’t explain it. And... I don’t know what to do.”

---“Well,” Alice replied, her voice thoughtful, “I’d say that you’d have to find the others. Or wait until they find you.”

 

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Edited by slawth

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  • 3 weeks later...

Chapter 4 – Stephen

12:30
21st July
2012
Dundalk, Ireland

---There are only so many ways that people will react to being given power. Some will use it for the good of others. Most will abuse it for personal gain.
---And then there are the few who try to test its limits.
---Stephen was among those few.

---Stephen awoke on the morning of July 21st to find a tattoo glowing on his shoulder, just like all of the other Marked (with the exclusion of Eve, but were it not for the fact that she lived in a different timezone from the rest, it would have been just the same for her). Shortly afterwards, he discovered that he had unusual powers, again just like the other Marked.
---However, unlike the other Marked, Stephen had no immediate use for them.

---Along with allowing him more time to test the powers, this also meant that he had some difficulty activating them. His attempts to master them were… unusual, to say the very least.
---Stephen stood on the ledge of a window on the first (that’s second for you Americans) floor of his home. He wore an orange shirt, and he had long brown hair and brown eyes.
---Unlike every pretty much every other character I’ve introduced so far, his skin was somewhat dark, although not quite the shade that would be associated with a tan.
---“Teleport!” This was the latest in a long line of commands that he’d been shouting. Unsurprisingly, none of them had worked.
---He sat down on the ledge, thinking. So far, he hadn’t been able to teleport since he’d accidentally done so earlier that morning.
---For a few seconds, he wondered if he had just imagined the teleportation, then dismissed the thought. He wasn’t insane, he knew what had happened.
---He stood up, planning to climb back in through the open window, only to have his foot slip out beneath him. Panicking, he tried to grab the ledge, when he suddenly found himself standing back in his room. “Yes!”
---So, it seems to activate itself when I’m in danger. If I can find a way of tricking it into thinking I’m threatened…

- - -

12:15
21st July
2012
Belfast, Northern Ireland

---The door of David’s house opened, and he walked in, water dripping from his clothing and hair. The weather had taken a turn for the worse as he was on his way home, as it often did. “Great day. Wonderful day. Beautiful.”
---Suddenly, David clutched his head, and fell to the ground, unconscious.

- - -

---David looked around himself, to see that he was in a car park. Everything was slightly greyer than reality – it reminded him of that dream about the blonde boy in the police station.
---The second thing he noticed was that the car park appeared to be for a shopping centre.
---The third thing he noticed was that a teenage boy was standing on the roof of said shopping centre.
---“Oh, that is not good…” He muttered. He stopped, confused, when it made no sound.
---As he began walking towards the boy, everything started turning black, and he barely reached the other end of the car park before it all faded away.

- - -

---David’s eyes opened, and he picked himself up. His hand went to his head again – he’d hit it off something as he fell. He couldn’t shake the feeling that those dreams were important, somehow. And there was something about that place that he recognised…
---He sat down on one of the chairs in front of the TV, which was still switched off, and closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the events of the day sink in, from finding the tattoo to collapsing on the ground. His day had been constantly getting worse; he nearly got hit by a car, he was attacked by an insane teenager who thought he was a god, the rain barely meant anything compared to the first two, but his head was throbbing from the fall.
---He took a while thinking over the last dream, vision, whatever it was. There was something familiar about it all, something he couldn’t quite place. As he thought over it, it hit him.
---He recognised the shopping centre, although he wasn’t entirely sure if he was right. A quick Google search confirmed his suspicions, though. He sat there for a few seconds, then made his decision: he was going to go there, and he was going to see if he could find the boy that he’d seen.
---He walked over to the fridge, and reached on top of it, grabbing a pen and a block of sticky notes. He quickly scribbled, ‘Going out for the day, borrowing car – David’ on one, before attaching it to the fridge door and returning the pen and sticky notes to their previous position.
---He had a long drive ahead of him.

- - -

13:43
21st July
2012
Dundalk, Ireland

---The drive had been longer than expected.
---At this point, David was absolutely convinced that he was driving in circles, and that even going to Dundalk in the first place was a waste of time, energy, and money. Regardless, he was there, so there was no point in not just making the best of it.
---Just as he was finally giving up hope, he saw it: the empty car park, the shopping centre, and the boy standing on top of it. He got a strange feeling in his gut, telling him that something was off, but he couldn’t place quite what was wrong.
---David drove into the car park, and abandoned the car in one of the many empty spaces, before making his way to the foot of the building.
---The teenager, who had noticed David driving in, looked down at him. “Nice day.”
---David stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. “Why the heck are you standing on a shopping centre?”
---He shrugged in response. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m up here for the view.” His face remained serious for a few seconds, then he grinned. “Nah, I kid.”
---David glared at the boy. “I’ll ask you again: why the heck are you on a shopping centre?”
---“It’s sort of one of those, ‘You won’t believe it ‘til you’ve seen it’ things.”
---“The day I’ve had, I would happily believe that the universe was created in three days by a giant purple octopus. Named Herbert.” He sighed, although there was a slightly joking tone to his voice.
---“Okay,” the teenager grinned, stepping back, “Prepare to be amazed.”
---He began running towards the edge, and then just as he was about to go over it, he disappeared.
---“What the-” David looked around, confused, trying to figure out where the boy had gone.
---“Well, that was disappointing,” he frowned, now standing right behind David. “I was at least hoping for a stream of expletives.”
---David turned, slowly, to face him. “Let me guess: you woke up this morning with a tattoo on your arm and magic powers.”
---“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘magic’, but it’s pretty frickin’ nifty.”
---David sighed, and shook his head, before beginning to walk towards the car. “Come on.”
---“What?” The boy looked at David, slightly confused.
---“Get into the car.” David said, still walking.
---The boy began walking, speeding up slightly to catch up with David. “Listen, no offence, but I don’t even know your name. I’ve never met you before. I don’t think it’s a terribly good idea to get into your car.”
---David sighed again, turned around, and lifted up the sleeve of his T-shirt slightly so that the tattoo of the eye was visible. It was a dark red, no longer glowing. “I’m David. Get into the car.”
---“Well, it’s not like you could’ve just gotten that at any tattoo parlour-”
---“Just get into the bloody car.”
---“Okay, okay, no need to get aggressive...” he muttered. Once he and David were in the car, he turned to him. “Well, David, since you’ve already told me your name, I’m Stephen.”
---David looked at Stephen. “The journey’s an hour and a half long. Are you going to keep talking this much? I need to know whether I need to go into the boot and get the duct tape.”
---“Why would you need- oh, I get it. Very funny.”
---“I wasn’t joking.” With that, David pressed his foot down on the pedal, and Stephen gripped the seat, slightly surprised by the speed. As they left the car park, David finally realised what was off:
---The car park was empty. At just about two o’clock, on a Saturday, the car park outside a shopping centre was empty. That was without even mentioning the fact that Stephen had been standing on the roof, looking suspiciously like he was about to jump off.
---He shrugged it off. There was probably just something on nearby, everyone was there. But still, he couldn’t quite escape the feeling that this was somehow related to the mark that had appeared on his shoulder that morning...

- - -

15:27
21st July
2012
Belfast, Northern Ireland

---David sat in his home, looking across the table at Stephen. “So, I guess you probably want to know what’s going on.”
---“I think I got a fair enough idea from what you were muttering to yourself in the car, but a little further explanation would definitely be appreciated.”
---David was quiet for a second, thinking back to what Liam had said (it felt like days ago, rather than hours), and trying to arrange it in his mind in a way that would make it easy enough to explain. “I believe that there is a name for us: the Marked. We have powers. I’m not going to pretend I understand them, I’m not going to say I know all there is to know. All I know is that something happened a long, long time ago, and that it’s related to what’s happening now.”
---Stephen nodded, taking in the little information David had. “That doesn’t explain how you found me, though.”
---“I had a vision,” David explained. “Saw you, standing on a building. Thought it might be a good idea to get there before you jumped off.”
---“I wasn’t going to jump off.”
---“I didn’t know that.”
---There was silence for a few seconds, while Stephen and David examined each other carefully. David was beginning to get irritated with Stephen, although there was something about him that he liked. He didn’t think getting him to come with him had been the best idea, though. But it seemed to him that it may just have been the right choice, given Liam’s determination. He was unlikely to get anywhere, but he knew more about these powers than any of the other ‘Marked’ he knew of so far. That, combined with his powers and obvious insanity, made him a threat.
---Finally, Stephen spoke. “Have you had any other ‘visions’?”
---“No, I have-” Just as David was about to deny it, he remembered seeing the blonde boy after Liam had knocked him out. “Actually, I think I might have.”
---“What did you see?” Stephen asked. He seemed a little doubtful of David’s claims.
---“A boy. Around your age. Blonde hair. He was in a police station, being led to a cell.”
---“That... doesn’t sound good.” Stephen pointed out. “Did you do any research into it? There’s this thing called the internet. Amazing what it can do. It has news websites.”
---David opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I... well... I... Don’t think you can tell me what to do. I’m doing this by choice.”
---Stephen grinned as he watched David walk over to the computer and start it up, but didn’t say anything. Soon enough, David spun around on the chair, in order to face Stephen. “Found him. Some town in England. Some kind of freak storm started, four boys got hit by lightning. One scarred, but nothing fatal.”
---“So, you think he has control over the weather or something?” Stephen wondered, pulling the chair he’d been sitting on over to the computer.
---“No. But I think I might know what he does have power over. According to this, witnesses claimed that the lightning didn’t come out of the sky.” David grinned. “It came out of the boy’s hands.”

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  • 3 weeks later...

Chapter 5 – Trapped

21st July
2012
A town in the south of England

---Alex was pretty sure that people under the age of eighteen couldn’t be held in cells. The police themselves, however, appeared to disagree.
---Alex, if he was perfectly honest with himself, had absolutely no idea what to do. He had considered trying to use his apparent ability to control electricity to break himself out, but even if he knew how to access it, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. His mind kept drifting back to the bodies of Ryan and his goons lying on the ground, and Christina’s terrified face. He had been trying to help her, to protect her, but it was clear to him now that with the lack of control he’d had, he could just as easily have hurt – or even killed – her.
---He was cursed. He needed to hide from society, make sure that no one else would ever be hurt by (or because of) him. No one would miss him; he was a loner, so he had no real friends, his dad had left a few years back and his mum barely noticed he existed.

---He heard footsteps approaching, and tried to get a look at whose they were, his train of thought temporarily broken. Soon, a man came into view. His skin was white, his hair was white, even the suit he was wearing was white. His face was ageless, his pale lips were thin, and his eyes – which squinted slightly, as though he had difficulty seeing – were a pinkish colour.
---“Hello, Alex,” he smiled, with all the warmth of an icicle. “It’s wonderful to meet you at last. I’ve heard so much about you.”
---“Who are you?” Alex asked, glaring suspiciously at the albino.
---“Crux,” he answered, the smile widening, but staying just as cold and forced as before, if not more so. “Artemis Crux.”
---“Well, Crux,” Alex spat, not trying to disguise his dislike of the man, “Why are you here?”
---Alex wasn’t entirely sure why he disliked Crux. It was just that there was something not quite right about him. He wasn’t sure what it was; there was the obviously faked smile, there was the strange look in his eyes, and another thing may also have been just how white his suit was. It seemed strange to Alex, who hadn’t seen white clothing that dazzling on anyone other than Morgan Freeman.
---Crux was silent, as though he was thinking of an answer, but his eyes were carefully scanning Alex, while he rubbed his beard with his right hand. It seemed like he thought simply getting a good enough look at the boy would reveal everything he needed to know. “You’re very special, Alex.”
---“That doesn’t answer my question.”
---Crux spared have a second to glare at Alex, then continued. “There are very few people out there with powers like yours. Even then, they’re only similar. You’re... unique.
---And there it was again, the cold, forced smile. Alex was slightly surprised that this Crux guy seemed not only to know about his powers, but to know more about them than he did. Still, he didn’t comment on it, but took a mental note of what Crux had said. “Why are you telling me this?”
---Crux crouched down so that he was at eye-level with Alex. He couldn’t help but notice how abnormally tall and thin the albino seemed to be. Another thing he couldn’t help but notice was his breath, which smelled minty to a point where it was slightly sickening, as though he’d swallowed a whole packet of breath mints about five minutes before he’d walked in. “I can help you, Alex. You and I have one thing in common: power. Mine is power of a different kind, but power all the same. I can get you anything you want, Alex, and I only want to ask a small favour in return.”
---“Counter-proposal: go to-” Alex was cut off by Crux clearing his throat angrily.
---Something appeared in Crux’s eyes, something cold and vicious, full of hatred, as he finally returned Alex’s glare. “Alright, I tried the carrot and you didn’t want it. Here’s the stick: if you don’t help me, that girl of yours from the park might just end up losing her head.” The albino made a line across his throat with his right index finger, smirking as he observed the shocked look on Alex’s face. “What, did you think I didn’t know? Do you think I’m thick? You were found in a park with a terrified girl, and an unconscious, scarred ex-boyfriend. Your motive was pretty clear.”
---“But... but you can’t find her...” Alex whimpered, the little colour in his face draining.
---Crux grinned darkly as he observed the expression of despair on the boy’s face. The smart-arse teenager who had been standing up to him moments before was gone, replaced by a lost child, so consumed by emotion that he couldn’t think. He had won. “Oh, Alex. Poor, stupid little Alex. Of course I could. I tried to tell you I was powerful. I have connections in everything, from worldwide politics to the food industry. With a few words, I could easily turn a city in a nuclear wasteland. Do you really think I couldn’t find one teenage girl?”
---“How do I know you’re not lying?” Alex pointed out, some of his confidence returning.
---“Well, you don’t really need to. All you need to know is that you don’t have much of a choice. I’m free, you’re trapped; I’m great, you’re powerless; I’m a man, and you’re just a child. I have the advantage here, and don’t even consider trying to bluff me with that ‘hand-lightning’ power of yours, we both know that you can’t control it.”
---Alex was silent, defeated. He stared at Crux, and when he finally spoke his voice was shaking, and barely louder than a whisper. “What do you want me to do?”

- - -

Belfast, Northern Ireland

---“Congratulations, you just proved that you have no decision-making skills.
---“I think it’s the opposite,” David replied, putting yet another shirt into the suitcase he was leaning over.
---“And I think that going to England on a whim is a bad decision.”
---“And I don’t, and I’m older than you and know more than you do, so I win.” David finished, shutting the suitcase with a loud bang.
---“Dundalk I can understand. It’s on the same island. But, England? Do you even know where in England we need to go?”
---“Nope.”
---“Then why are we going?”
---David shrugged in response, picking up the case and walking out of the room.
---“Do you even have that kind of money to go throwing around?” Stephen asked, following David out of the room.
---“Actually, I do,” David smiled. “If you want to climb on a train and go back home, be my guest. The alternative is that you phone your parents and tell them that you’ll be gone for a while, and then you trust me to find this kid.”
---“You really think that I’m just going to dump my life and follow you to England?”

- - -

Ferry, Irish Sea

---“Convincing the guy to go out of his way and take us to the south of England was enough without also paying him so that we would be the only people on the ferry.” Stephen sighed.
---“What? I didn’t pay him to make sure it was just us. In fact, it was only because we were the only ones who wanted tickets that he agreed.” David replied, slightly confused.
---“Oh. Right.” Stephen was silent for a few seconds. “That’s a tad strange. No customers at all. You’d expect it to be crowded.”
---“Yeah, you would...” David looked away from Stephen, thinking back to the car park where he’d found him. It was probably just a coincidence. But then, with everything else that had happened that day... something wasn’t right. And once he’d found Alex, he was going to find out what.

- - -

Somewhere in the south of England

---Alex sat in silence in the back seat of a limousine, along with Crux. After a short while, the albino turned to him. “You know, there’s something I don’t understand about your decision.”
---“That’s nice,” Alex replied emotionlessly.
---Crux frowned, before continuing; “You reacted to the threat with more emotion than I’d expect. As far as I could tell in the research I’d done, you barely knew the girl.”
---“Yep.” Alex turned to look out of the tinted window to his right.
---“Why did you react so strongly, Alex?”
---The teenager looked at Crux, anger clear in his eyes. “I’ll tell you why: she’s just a normal person. She shouldn’t be involved in this. I’m the one who woke up with a tattoo on my arm, not her. I’m the one who you want. I’m the one with the powers. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
---“Alright, hero.” Crux chuckled. “I’m surprised to see you being so very moral. It’s not the impression I got when researching you.”
---“And what impression was that?” Alex asked, clearly not very interested, turning back away from Crux.
---“You’re above average intelligence. You do very well in school. However, you have a tendency to insult others and cut yourself off, likely due the fact that your father left you and your mother a few years ago.”
---“Screw you.”

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  • 4 weeks later...

Chapter 6 – Happy Families

21st July
2012
London, England

---“Well, Alex, here we are.” Crux turned slowly to face the fifteen-year-old, grinning. Although his face displayed happiness, his eyes were as cold as ever. “What do you think?”
---The building Crux’s limousine had taken Alex to was massive; a towering structure made of grey bricks, reaching up into the sky, so tall that the top was obscured by cloud. He’d never seen anything like it. “It’s okay, I guess.”
---Crux’s grin slowly turned into a frown. “Well, maybe you’ll be a little more impressed once we’re inside.”
---Crux led Alex into the building, walking quite quickly as though he wanted to reach its shelter as soon as possible. In fact, once they were in the door, he relaxed slightly as though a burden of some sort had been lifted from his shoulders. They walked through a crowded reception, and Crux pressed the small circular button that summoned the elevator silently, his face void of any emotion. A few seconds later, the elevator arrived, and its doors slid open with a mechanical hiss. Crux gestured for Alex to enter it, and then walked in himself. Taking an old-fashioned key from his pocket, he placed it into a small keyhole underneath the elevator buttons and turned it. The lift jumped to life, descending at what felt like an unusually high speed. Even with the increased speed, though, it didn’t slow down and stop for at least ten minutes afterwards.
---“Now, Alex, this is where the magic happens.” The elevator’s doors slid open once more, revealing a large reception. Everything was clean and white, and the room was practically empty compared to the one in the building above. Alex was so busy examining his surroundings that he didn’t notice the elevator doors closing behind him, and a section of white wall sliding down as though from nowhere to cover them. “The building up top is somewhat of a cover up. It was meant to be London’s equivalent of the Empire State Building, but somehow it just wasn’t as popular. Over time, various businesses have moved into the different floors, and the only tourists it gets are architects. Having a giant skyscraper over a secret underground base without anyone noticing is still somewhat of a bragging point, something we like to remind the Americans of whenever possible.”
---“What... what is this place?” Alex was still slightly in shock, trying to get over the fact that he was inside a building with a skyscraper on top of it. A few men and women in white coats glanced over at him from a small table in the corner of the reception, but looked back to their newspapers and cups of coffee right afterwards.
---“This, Alex, is the English headquarters for the Cult of the Marked.” Crux explained, matter-of-factly.
---“Cult of the Marked?”
---“Well, we still call it a cult. It’s really more like a family. One big, religious, worldwide family. That happens to be a tad competitive from country to country. Maybe we’re more like a government, we certainly control enough of them...” Crux was silent for a few seconds, as though he was trying to think of a better explanation. “Eh. You get the idea. Unless you weren’t asking about the Cult part, in which case the Marked are people like you, and the Cult of the Marked is dedicated to worshipping you like gods.”
---“I only got these powers last night,” Alex said, slightly confused.
---“No, you only inherited those powers last night. As did the other five Marked, presumably, but we’re still working on tracking them down. We were lucky enough that you made a public performance out of the discovery of your powers. Unfortunately, most of the others are probably in Ireland, and we’re having difficulty contacting the branch in Dublin.” Crux sighed. “A long, long time ago, there were six remarkable people born in Ireland, each with a different power: Telepathy, Electricity, Telekinesis, Foresight, Necromancy, and Teleportation. Then they got sold out and locked away for all eternity, their powers doomed to die with them. Then, last night, the Irish cultists saw six coloured spheres of light somewhere near Cork. And this morning, you show up. It stands to reason that the other five spheres represent the other powers if that wasn’t just a massive coincidence, which we assume it wasn’t. So, somewhere in the world, there are five other people with the other five of the aforementioned powers.”
---“Oh. Okay then.” Alex was silent again, trying to process all the information while Crux led him further into the underground building. He noticed that the corridors were lacking in the security cameras present in reception – maybe they just thought that anyone who tried to get in or out would get caught there. One of the corridors made Alex feel slightly nauseated, as the walls and floor were made of some transparent substance that wasn’t quite glass or plastic. Below was a building full of men and women in white coats like the ones Alex had seen earlier, gathered around various machines and cages. He couldn’t help but wonder why there was such a large scientific presence in something that called itself a cult (although, he was also fairly certain that most cults didn’t have massive bases underneath skyscrapers). All this business with the Cult was a bit hard to take in; from what Alex could tell, they had bases all over the world (Crux had already suggested that there were bases in America, and that the Irish cultists were based in Dublin), and they were made to worship him and a few other people. No, they weren’t, they were made to worship people from a long time ago with the same powers as him. Crux called them ‘Marked,’ which might just have had something to do with the tattoo Alex had found on his arm that morning. Who were the other five? Were they teenagers, like him? Children? Adults? Senior citizens?
---The idea of an old person with superpowers made Alex chuckle, which earned him a small glare and a curious look from Crux.
---Crux said Alex had ‘inherited’ his powers. That was something he just couldn’t work out. It seemed to be important to the albino, seeing as he had corrected Alex on his wording. After a short while, Alex turned to Crux. “You didn’t explain what help you wanted me to give you.”
---“Oh, of course. I must have forgotten,” he chuckled. Alex noticed again how his eyes differed so much from the rest of his expression, like they didn’t belong there. They were so cold, and emotionless, and... dead. “I just want to perform a few tests. Blood samples and the like.”
---“Why didn’t you say that at the time?” It seemed to Alex that Crux had made an awful lot of a fuss for nothing more than blood samples. The feeling that he’d grown so familiar with in his time around Crux, that something wasn’t quite right, made its return in his mind.
---Crux shrugged. “I can get somewhat caught up in the moment. I think ahead, but sometimes I don’t do it quite right... it’s caused me quite a few problems.” This was followed by another chuckle, but very much to himself, like he’d told some kind of private joke that he knew Alex wouldn’t understand.
---“So, when am I giving these ‘blood samples’?” Alex asked suspiciously, looking around the corridor they were now in. It was much like all the others, with its plain white walls and floor. The ceiling too was white, but it was punctuated with square lights built into it at regular intervals.
---“Tomorrow,” Crux answered simply. “Tonight, you’ll be staying in this room.” He gestured at the door which was now to his right, having stopped and turned to face Alex. “We’ve already gotten some of your possessions and clothing moved here.”
---Without giving Alex a chance to respond to his last statement, Crux opened the door and motioned for Alex to enter.
---“There’s a digital clock/alarm in your room, set to wake you at ten tomorrow morning. At eleven, some of the scientists in our employment will be sent here to escort you to the testing room, where they will take blood samples and perform some simple tests. Nothing to worry about.” With that, Crux walked away, leaving Alex standing in front of the open door.
---The fifteen-year-old stood outside the room for a few seconds, watching Crux walk away, but eventually the albino turned a corner and Alex found himself without anything much to look at. Sighing, he walked into the room Crux had opened, and closed the door behind him.

---The room was startlingly similar to Alex’s own bedroom, with a few things just slightly out of place. He could tell that none of it was really his, though, including the clothing inside the chest of drawers and wardrobe against one of the room’s walls. It was also lacking in a window, although as some sort of joke there were still curtains. There was a door, too, which wasn’t present in his own room, and when he opened it he found that it led into a small bathroom (completely unlike his own). The room contained a shower, a toilet, and a sink, and was somewhat cramped.
---Upon returning to the main room, he spotted something sitting on the pillow of his bed that definitely was his – an iPod. It was strange to see something so familiar in a room that was at the same time familiar and alien, but he found it somewhat relieving. He’d been worried about it when it had been confiscated during his arrest. He quickly unlocked it, and immediately went into the settings to search for an internet connection – either all signals were blocked or he was too far underground to pick up anything from the city above.
---He sighed, put the iPod into the pocket of his hoodie and collapsed on to the bed. Closing his eyes, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

- - -

21st July
2012
A town in the south of England

---“How are we meant to know where to go from here?” Stephen asked, looking around the docks where the ferry had left them.
---“Well, it’s probably late enough that some papers might have stories, so now we just have to go into a shop and find one, find the ‘freak storm’ story and find out what town it was in.” David explained. It didn’t take long for them to come across a newsagent, and they were fortunate in that a local paper appeared to have printed somewhat later in the day than the others, and more fortunate again that the very story they were looking for made the headlines.
---“‘Local boys injured in freak storm,’” Stephen read aloud. “No mention of our guy, as far as I can see.”
---“Doesn’t matter,” David muttered, fumbling around in his pocket for change.
---“Why doesn’t it?”
---“Because it’s already told us that we’re in the right place. Ha!” David held up a pound coin, before picking up the newspaper and bringing it to the counter. After buying it, he walked out with Stephen.
---“Okay, so we’re in the right place, but where do we go from here?” Stephen noticed even as he was finishing his question that David wasn’t listening, instead flicking through the newspaper and skimming over the articles as though he was searching for something.
---“Well, I’m guessing we should go to the police station,” he answered after a few seconds, throwing the paper into the nearest bin. “Apparently a fifteen-year-old was arrested for shoplifting. Photo matches our guy.”
---“I’m not sure I want to be associated with a shoplifter.”
---“For all we know it’s just a cover-up to hide the fact that he had lightning coming out of his hands.” David pointed out.
---“Alright, do we know where the police station is?” Stephen asked, still not entirely confident in David’s planning skills. The seventeen-year-old stopped for a second, looked around, and then began walking quickly across the street, leaving Stephen to struggle to catch up. “Will I take that as a yes?”
---“Police car drove in this direction, no sirens. One could assume that it’s headed back,” David explained, quickening his pace once again in an attempt to keep the car in sight.
---“Alternatively it’s just headed somewhere where it isn’t needed urgently-” Stephen was cut off as he was hit by a powerful gust of air, blowing him and David backwards, timed almost perfectly with a massive bang and a burst of flame somewhere further down the road. His ears ringing, he tried to pick himself up, looking around for David, who had managed to stand but was shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of the sound which surely filled his ears as well. He stopped, then suddenly ran forward out of sight. A few moments later, he returned, walking at a slower pace. He helped Stephen up, and then he saw his mouth moving, but the sounds were too distant to make out. “What?”
---“It was the police station,” David repeated, slightly louder. The increase in volume and the fact that the ringing was beginning to get quieter meant that Stephen heard the words, although he didn’t quite understand what David meant. “Someone blew up the police station, Stephen. There was enough left to tell.”
---“Did... did someone know we were coming?”
---David shrugged. “No way to know for sure. We may as well go find somewhere to stay, we’re not getting anything done tonight and I want to get out of her before any fire engines arrive.”

---Soon enough, David and Stephen had checked into the nearest hotel – David wasn’t in short supply of money, and the place was cheap enough. The town didn’t seem to be the type that survived on tourism. As he sat down in his room, he found himself losing consciousness for the third time that day.

- - -

---David looked around, finding himself in the upper hallway of a house. There didn’t seem to be anyone there, and he took a breath in and began walking towards one of the doors, only to find it opening. A girl walked out – not too much younger than him, shortish blonde hair with a long fringe, purple T-shirt. He barely had time to register it as she walked right through him, and he felt strange chills down his back. Somewhere nearby there was a phone ringing, and it looked like the girl was going to answer it. He drifted down the stairs after her, to listen to the conversation.
---“Hello?” she said, picking up the phone.
---“Hello.” A voice on the other end replied. “Is this Sarah Winters?”
---“No, it’s her daughter, Eve. Can I take a message?”
---As Eve finished speaking, everything was beginning to turn dark. But this time, David had something he hadn’t had before:
---He had a name.

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Edited by Sam Tyler

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  • 1 month later...

Chapter 7 – Ingredients

21st July
2012
Manhattan, New York

---“Stop mothering me. Seriously, I have a cough and don’t want to get out of bed, I don’t need your input,” Eve snapped at Alice.
---“I’m not mothering you, I’m–”
---“‘Eve, you should get out of bed now’; ‘Eve, you shouldn’t be coughing up blood, you should get that checked out.’”
---“That’s not mothering,” Alice sighed. “That’s trying to help you. You’re my best friend, which is reason enough to worry about you. If that isn’t enough for you, though, you also happen to be going out with my cousin, all of whose anger will be taken out on me if you die given the fact that you won’t be present.”
---“Fine, I’ll get up,” Eve muttered, pushing herself up, only to swear and fall back, clutching her arm. “Well, looks like I’ve managed to screw up my arm.”
---“Let me have a look,” Alice said, leaning over her friend.
---“Thought you weren’t mothering me,” Eve smirked.
---“Can I just roll up your sleeve to get a proper look?” Alice asked, faking irritation.
---“You can just take the whole shirt off if it’s more convenient.” Eve smiled, winking.
---“I doubt Sam would approve.”
---“Sam doesn’t have to know.”
---“The sleeve will do, Eve.”
---“Alright then,” Eve pouted, turning slightly so that Alice had better access to her arm.
---Alice carefully began to lift up the sleeve, earning another curse from Eve as her hand brushed against the skin. “Shut up and stop complaining,” she muttered, continuing. “Hey, when did you get that?”
---“What?” Eve asked, turning her head to look at Alice. “Is there a bruise? Cut? Scar? Please don’t tell me there’s a scar.”
---“The tattoo, Eve,” Alice sighed, a tone of disappointment and some anger in her voice. “You have a tattoo.”

- - -

22nd July
2012
A town in the south of England

---Outside a small hotel, a sleek black limousine with tinted windows pulled up. The driver opened the door, blinking in the bright sunlight as his eyes adjusted, and then climbed out of the car. Reaching in behind him, he picked up and opened a black umbrella, before walking to the back of the limousine and holding the umbrella over the door as he opened it. The man who climbed out was dressed completely in white; only his shoes and sunglasses were black, along with the umbrella which he took from the driver and held over his head, making him look stranger still in comparison to passersby, wearing shorts and T-shirts and other such clothing they would be unlikely to get away with on a colder day. And yet, somehow, no one seemed to notice Crux as he walked, umbrella raised, towards the door of the hotel.
---Behind him, three more men got out of the limousine, large and muscular, dressed in black suits. They seemed to stand out more than their albino boss, but no one commented on them or looked too long – they didn’t seem like the type of people one would want to anger.
---As he reached the door, Crux turned around to face the men who appeared to be his bodyguards. “What a wonderful day,” he muttered sarcastically. “The longest of this year's sunlight is behind us, gentlemen; at long last, winter is coming.”
---The guards nodded, and Crux folded down his umbrella, turned around and strolled into the lobby. The guards stood not too far behind him as he reached the desk, tilting his sunglasses down and leaning over it to face the receptionist. “Hello. I’m looking for someone called David, Frost or something his surname was?”
---“I’m sorry sir, I can’t give you details of our guests,” the receptionist responded, without so much as looking up.
---“Look, why don’t you just give it a little more thought,” Crux almost whispered, discreetly moving a roll of notes across the desk. The receptionist looked up at Crux’s hand, still holding them, and then pretended to shake it, taking hold of the money.
---“A David Frost checked in last night. Room 137. There was someone else with him, he’s staying in 138.”
---“Thank you,” Crux grinned, pulling away from the desk.

- - -

---Crux stood outside Room 137 with one of his guards, waiting for the other two to return. Teleportation would be easy enough to capture; he’d ordered the first guard to sneak up on him, and pull a blindfold over his head. Unable to see, he’d be easy to capture. Foresight would be more difficult, but he had a plan for how to deal with that.
---Suddenly, the door was shoved open and David tumbled through, turning to run down the corridor... only to find Crux standing in his way. “Hello there. Please, don’t make any attempt to escape, it’ll work out better for you that way.”
---Without replying, David turned to run the other way, only to find a guard blocking his path, and even as he turned to face Crux he saw the guard who had attacked him appearing in the doorway, sealing off any escape route. “Who are you?”
---“You can call me Crux,” the albino answered calmly, as the third guard walked out of the teleporter’s room, carrying the unconscious boy. “I’m here to help.”
---David looked confused for a second, then the guard behind him brought a cloth up to his face. His eyes widened and he struggled for a few seconds, then his eyes closed.
---“That went well,” Crux smiled. “Come on. We’re taking the emergency exit. You–” He gestured at the guard not holding one of the Marked. “–Take the elevator and bring the car round the back. We’re bringing them to the base.”

- - -

21st July
2012
Manhattan, New York

---“I genuinely do not know how that got there,” Eve tried to explain, looking at the odd purple symbol on her reflection’s arm. The two girls were now standing in Eve’s bathroom, for a few reasons: first, there was a mirror there, and second, Eve had begun coughing again and she didn’t want to stain anything.
---“Eve, you have a tattoo. Unless you got drunk or something–”
---“I don’t drink.”
---“–Then you should remember where you got it from,” Alice finished.
---“A short while ago you were willing to believe that I could hear people’s thoughts,” Eve pointed out, slightly frustrated at her friend.
---“A short while ago you were commenting on what I was thinking and I didn’t really have a choice,” Alice sighed.
---“Well, I would appreciate it if you trusted me without proof as well,” Eve responded, before doubling over, coughing into the sink. A few seconds later, she stood up straight again, wiping some blood from her mouth and turning on the tap to wash away the red liquid threatening to stain the sink.
---“Eve, your nose is bleeding.”
---“Thanks, Alice,” Eve muttered sarcastically, wiping it with the back of her hand. “Now, could you help me get back to my room? I’m feeling a little light-headed.”
---A few minutes and falls later, Eve was sitting on her bed once again, Alice at her side. “This doesn’t look very good.”
---“Really?” Eve asked, pinching her nose in an attempt to stop the blood flowing. “I thought that this was all completely healthy. Don’t people wake up every Saturday with tattoos, telepathy and internal bleeding?”
---“Do you think they’re connected?”
---“No, I think it’s just a random coincidence that they all showed up on the same morning,” Eve sighed impatiently. “Yes, I do think they’re connected.”
---Alice was silent for a few seconds, trying to think of a response, or some way of helping her friend. “Didn’t you say the voices were quieter when you focused on your own thoughts?”
---“Well yeah, but they’re still there.
---“What if... you were able to stop them completely like that?”
---“Do you think it would work?” Eve questioned, looking slightly worried.
---“It might,” Alice shrugged, smiling half-heartedly. Probably not.
---Eve felt a pang of something like sadness in her chest at hearing her friend’s thought, but tried to keep her face straight, not giving her feelings away in case she worried Alice further. She nodded and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in, trying to centre herself in her own thoughts, memories filling her head, people she’d known and places she’d been, anything that kept her in her own mind. Some time later, she opened her eyes and found the world silent once again.
---“Did it work?” Alice asked, watching her friend curiously.
---“I... I think it did,” Eve smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.
---“Good, because I’ve been here a few hours and I really need to go home.”
---“I thought your parents were away for a couple of weeks or something,” Eve frowned.
---“I still need to eat, Eve,” the other girl retorted.
---“You could eat here,” Eve pouted.
---“Do you really think your mom would be that accommodating?”
---Eve was silent for a few seconds. “Fair enough.”

- - -

22nd July
2012
London, England

---Alex awoke to the sound of synthetic bleeping and autotuned vocals, the kind of thing that somehow passed for music in the twenty-first century, as the alarm Crux had warned him about the night before went off. Muttering a few curses under his breath, he climbed out of the bed and turned off the alarm, before yawning and stretching. He recognised the song that had pained his ears a few seconds before as Damian Hall’s latest hit, which had brought him back up to the top of the charts alongside the other idols of teenaged girls such as Justin Bieber and One Direction, who he still managed to best while he was in his thirties, for which Alex had to give him a little credit.

---A knock came on Alex’s door just as Alex was drying his hair with one of the towels he’d found inside the cramped bathroom, and he sighed, grabbing a shirt (blue, as usual) from one of the drawers and pulling it on, before rearranging the shirts left in the drawer so that the layout was symmetrical once again. He made sure his clothes from the day before – apart from his hoodie, which hung on the door – were folded neatly at the end of his bed, one item on top of the other, growing smaller as the pile’s height increased.
---With that done, he went to the door at last and opened it to find two of the men in white coats there. Both seemed to be young, somewhere in their late twenties, but their serious expressions made them look older somehow. They led him through the plain, sterile hallways, and just as Alex was beginning to think they were as confused as he was by the corridors’ similarity, they came to a stop. Before them was a door, which blended so well with its surroundings that it actually took Alex a few seconds to realise it was there at all.
---As one of the men began to open the door, Alex prepared himself for some kind of laboratory, images of rooms full of bubbling chemicals over flames and animals in cages flashing through his mind. Instead, he found himself faced with what he could only compare to a dentist’s surgery, with one of those odd chairs that tilted backwards at the command of a remote in the middle.
---“Take a seat,” one of the men said, gesturing at the chair. Given his cold appearance and surroundings, Alex found his voice was surprisingly warm, and nodded silently before doing as the man had asked. As the chair’s back began moving, forcing Alex to lie down, the second man appeared at Alex’s side with a needle.
---“Now, this won’t hurt a bit...”

- - -

22nd July
2012
London, England

---“I’m terribly sorry about all this,” Crux sighed emotionlessly. “But the thing is, I already have one co-operating Marked and as such, you two aren’t really necessary yet.”
---“What do you mean, ‘yet’? What is this?” David growled, trapped behind the bars of the cell he’d awoken in.
---“This, David, is the beginning of a brand new future,” Crux smirked. “Perhaps you don’t understand yet, but you will. Or maybe you won’t. It really depends on how I’m feeling when the time comes to kill you.”
---“Why not just kill us now, though? Wouldn’t it be easier, quicker?” David asked.
---Crux leaned in close to the bars, so close that David could feel the man’s breath on his face and even smell it, mint and something dark and coppery filling his nostrils. “You’re very special, David. As is your friend, as are all the Marked. And I’m just looking for the ingredients to make other people special as well.”
---With that, the albino walked away, brushing some imaginary dust off his suit and leaving a confused David to stare after him.

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Chapter 8 – Underestimation

29th July
2012
London, England

Alex’s eyes fluttered open. New day. More exercises, more blood tests, more men in white coats watching him trying to throw lightning at a dartboard from behind a glass screen.
---He looked over to the alarm, checking how little sleep he had before it inevitably went off, only to sigh in relief as he realised it was Sunday.
---Crux was, fortunately for what remained of Alex’s sanity, not entirely unreasonable, and had agreed earlier in the week that Alex should get one day off, and Alex had been looking forward to it. He had to wonder, though, how long he’d have to stay, as it wasn’t particularly enjoyable and his mother might have been worrying about him.
---Alex sighed as he pushed himself up, bringing his feet over the side of the bed and standing. He knew very well that his mother hadn’t been worrying about him, because she didn’t notice he was there unless he tried to grab her attention. She just went about her own life as though she didn’t have a son, as though she’d never met his dad, as though nothing had ever happened. Which was, of course, a fantasy, but it was one she lived in, and if it meant that she wasn’t crying all the time Alex could live with it.
---She still did cry, though. At night, when Alex was lying in his bed and worrying about how his wardrobe was slightly off the centre of the room and whether or not he needed to move it, he could hear her sobs downstairs. He thought back to one night when he was twelve, and had gone downstairs in the hopes of comforting her. He quickly pushed the memory back into the deep recesses of his mind where it belonged, deciding that it might be an idea to take a look around the underground building. He’d grown more used to the corridors, and was now able to make out imperfections, badly applied paint or a chip in the wall, just little things that helped him identify where he was. If he tried to memorise his path, he should be able to make his way back.
---As he closed the door gently behind him, he looked to his right, the direction where the scientists or doctors or whatever they were took him every day, then to his left, the corridor stretching out. That was the direction Crux had taken him when he’d first brought him here, after threatening to kill Christina.
---It still didn’t sit right with Alex that it was just for blood tests, or even for finding out how his powers worked, that Crux had threatened to kill Christina. Crux had said there were others like him, and it would probably have been just as easy to get one of them to work with him. Or would it?
---Alex had been incredibly co-operative. He’d done everything Crux had asked, and he’d done it because he had a weakness, a flaw, which Crux had spotted and immediately exploited for his own gain: his feelings for Christina. Crux wanted something from him, and regardless of what this Cult’s apparent purpose was he doubted it was to worship him. A man who hands out death threats to a person he’s meant to consider a god obviously has more sinister motives.

Alex stopped walking when he realised he’d drifted too far into his own thoughts and gotten lost. He swore under his breath, looking around to try and find anything he recognised, but all he saw were blank walls and security cameras. Just as he was about to turn and walk back the way he came, he did a double-take – security cameras?
---Alex had noticed the lack of security cameras when he’d first arrived. It was one of the first things he took note of. So if they were here, when they weren’t anywhere else, it obviously meant that something important was here, something that might have had to do with Crux’s plan. He looked back the way he came, then down the hallway ahead of him. If he went down that way, he’d be taking a massive risk. He could’ve said he didn’t know where he was going, but the camera had seen him hesitate. He had to make a decision, doing as Crux wanted or trying to find out the true reason he’d been brought here. And, as teenage boys often will, he chose to take the risk.

- - -

“I don’t see what you have against threatening to kill me,” Stephen sighed. “You were fine with it in Dundalk.”
---“First, I’ve already threatened to kill you more than once in the time we’ve been here, and it hasn’t worked so far,” David snapped, his irritation getting the better of him. “Second, I didn’t threaten to kill you in Dundalk, only to gag you.”
---“Same thing.”
---David was silent, staring at the stone wall between him and Stephen as though he thought his glare would somehow travel through it. “No it’s not! With one you’d have duct tape on your mouth, and with the other you’d be dead.”
---“Couldn’t I have duct tape on my mouth and be dead, though?” Stephen asked, as though the question was somehow proving a point.
---“I’m not dignifying that with a response.”
---“Technically you just did.”
---“No, I undignified it with my response which refused to dignify it,” David pointed out. He’d been trapped with Stephen for just about a week, and they’d had either this same conversation or one very similar to it multiple times each day. His patience had worn thin by the end of the first day, and by the third it was all but nonexistent. Once again, he tried to distance himself from the situation by looking at the positives:
---First, they had the name of another Marked, Eve. That could make finding her easier than finding the boy here had been, or even decrease the screw-ups (although given her American accent, David had his doubts about the simplicity of the task).
---Second, Crux wasn’t going to kill them (yet). He needed them for his grand plan, making other people as ‘special’ as they apparently were, and somehow David doubted that he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart. His mind returned to the day Crux had captured him, and the smell of the albino’s breath as he crouched before him and whispered those precious few details of his plot. On the surface, it was all too many breath mints, but there was something else underneath, something unpleasant, something he suspected the mints were intended to hide. He hadn’t been able to place it at the time, but since then he’d had long enough to think, and slowly he’d become certain: the smell was blood.
---He had run through as many ideas as he could, but most he dismissed immediately. The only two that had stood a chance were that Crux was a vampire or that he was suffering from some kind of illness, and even the vampire one would have been pushed away were it not for the man’s appearance. David stopped for a moment to wonder if that was racist, then decided it probably wasn’t. He wasn’t sure how either of those fit in with what Crux had told him of his plan, but he hoped that it would make itself known. Assuming we don’t die first.

Hearing someone approaching, David shushed the still-talking Stephen, and tried to remain as quiet as possible in case it was Crux. However, as their visitor came into view, the silence broke with a quiet gasp from David and he immediately stood upright, in order to get a proper look at the boy before him.
---The boy looked about the same age as Stephen, and seemed to be exactly the same as when David had seen him in his vision, even wearing what looked like the same clothes. Although he wasn’t too sure, David thought he was a little paler than before, almost sickly-looking, with bags under his eyes, which were staring curiously at David.
---“Who are you?” he asked, and David was silent for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to answer the question and eventually settling on simply lifting up his sleeve as he had done to Stephen. They had been given different clothes, and although they fitted they were uncomfortable, and Stephen seemed to think that lime green didn’t match up well to his skin tone.
---“A friend,” he answered, allowing the sleeve to drop as the teenager continued to observe him carefully. “What I want to know is why you’re out there, and not in here like us.”
---“That would be easier to answer if I knew why you were in there to begin with,” he retorted. “You haven’t even told me your name, and how am I to know you don’t just have a tattoo?”
---“Are all fifteen-year-olds like this, or did I just end up stuck with you two?” David sighed.
---“In my defence, I did start off with ‘no offence’,” Stephen cut in. “He’s obviously just a prick.”
---“I didn’t start off with ‘no offence’ because I couldn’t care less whether or not you’re offended, I just want to know why I’m supposed to trust you,” he replied.
---“Alright. My name is David. I woke up last Saturday with a glowing tattoo on my shoulder and the ability to see the future. I met someone who also had powers, also about your age which is really making me feel old, and he used them to beat me to a bloody pulp, but not before telling me that there were others apart from us with powers and that he was going to find them all and convince them that they were gods, presumably by telling them that humans were parasites or something like that. I then had a vision in which I saw you being led to a police cell and teaching the police present the difference between electrification and electrocution, and shortly afterwards another of our friend Stephen. Wave your hand, Stephen.” Stephen didn’t wave. “I found Stephen, recruited him to the cause of finding you and the others, then we used news sites to make our way to a town in South England, where we found a cover story about you having been arrested for shop-lifting in a local newspaper. We then made our way to the police station, only for it to explode, leaving me with a splitting headache and confusion as to whether you were alive or dead. We rested in a hotel for the night, then were captured by a fellow called Crux who knocked us out, brought us here and then told me that he already had one of us working with him, who I presume is you although that might just make you untrustworthy, before informing me that he was planning to find what gave us powers so that other people could have powers too. Your turn.”
---“Okay. I woke up in the middle of the night last Friday-forward-slash-Saturday with a sore arm and a glowing tattoo. I went to the park and was gripped by a strange need to protect the girl I fancy from her thuggish ex-boyfriend, which resulted in leaving her terrified and the ex-boyfriend and his thugs unconscious. I was promptly arrested and escorted to a police cell where I informed the police of the difference between electrification and electrocution, before being led out by an albino in a Morgan Freeman suit named Crux who promised not to viciously murder the girl I mentioned earlier if I went with him. He told me that there are six of us, the Marked, each with a different power, and said some other stuff that I can’t be bothered adding to this summarised version. He’s spent the last few days getting scientists to take my blood and watch me throwing lightning at dartboards. Today was my day off so I took an opportunity to explore the building and came across this room which was miraculously unlocked despite the presence of security cameras all around it, hoping to find out exactly what Crux was doing, which I sort of have now.” The boy paused for a few seconds, as though trying to figure out if there was anything else to add. “Oh, and my name’s Alex.”
---“Well doesn’t my Saturday seem boring now,” Stephen muttered.
---“Aw, poor you. It’s obviously so much better to have the people you care about threatened or be beaten up.”
---“Well, I... uh...” Stephen was silent, trying to think of an adequate comeback, before looking down at the floor in shame when he found himself lacking one.
---“Alex, we need your help,” David said once he felt certain Stephen wasn’t going to think of something witty. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of locked up.”
---“You want me to break you out?”
---“Well, yes, if possible,” David shrugged.
---Slowly, Alex nodded, after giving it some thought. “I... I can try.”

- - -

28th July
2012
Manhattan, New York

Eve was bored.
---That was the sum of her problems. Even the guitar was beginning to irritate her, as she found it to be increasingly out-of-tune, regardless of how much she tried to tune it. She had become so busy tuning it, in fact, that she seemed to have forgotten to play it, and although her parents usually didn’t notice her playing it would appear that when the same note was repeated over and over with no noticeable change it began to grind on their nerves, leading them to commit the ultimate sin: they confiscated it.
---Regardless of what they believed was ‘for the good of our sanity, and yours’, it was Eve’s opinion that they had no right to take away her guitar. Or her keyboard, which she immediately turned to once the guitar was no longer available. The only thing she had left was her phone, which was very much less than a musical instrument with its tinny speakers and all-but-unreactive touch screen. All she had left was Angry Birds and the internet, and the former had grown a little tiresome after she found herself trying to score three stars in every level again.
---She’d tried waiting for whoever else was like her, assuming they existed, and they hadn’t come. Alice seemed to spend most of her days either asleep or out with friends who weren’t Eve. Eve didn’t really have many friends, apart from Alice and Sam, who was in France and not replying to Eve’s text messages. Probably to avoid being seen to have a girlfriend, which was very moral. Commitment didn’t really seem to be Sam’s area.

The internet had become Eve’s only companion, as she scoured it for signs of anyone else like her. There were things here and there that stood out as odd – something about UFO’s in Dublin or something, she didn’t really know the difference between Irish places. They couldn’t be that separate, right? It was such a small country.
---While people talking about UFO’s wasn’t odd in itself, it was the fact that it took place around the same time as she would have fallen unconscious that seemed odd to her. At first she didn’t notice it, given the timezones, but it was right. There were also paranoid blog entries about people disappearing around Ireland, saying that whole towns and cities of people had vanished. Ireland seemed like an interesting place to live. It seemed that Eve was just on the wrong side of the Atlantic. As Eve went through the search results for ‘Dublin UFOs’, she found her eyes drawn to one in particular. It looked like the average paranoid alien blog at first (and it seemed to think that the UFOs were in Cork. Then again, though, they might have been Cork...), but she felt something in the back of her mind urging her toward it and clicked it anyway.
---There was only one article. It was the first Eve had seen to actually have photos, and not low-quality phone images – there were six clearly visible balls of light, all different colours, in the sky. It could have been photoshopped, sure, but something told Eve, the same way it had told her to look at that article, that it wasn’t. The article was the first to suggest that it wasn’t caused by aliens – in fact, it seemed to think that it was something ancient and somewhat human. It claimed that the lights were directly related to six ancient gods, the Marked, who had been sealed away somewhere in Ireland in some legend or another. But it was able to list where the lights had gone – this couldn’t have been the work of one person, these were being tracked by at least one person each – which caught Eve’s interest. There was a red one which was apparently in Northern Ireland, although they couldn’t get the exact location but seemed to think it was in Belfast, an orange in somewhere called Dundalk (also in Ireland), a green one which had apparently barely moved at all and remained in Cork, a grey somewhere in the west of Ireland, a blue in the south of England and, lastly, a purple in New York.

The last one, of course, convinced Eve that there was some amount of truth in it, and she continued to read through the article (it seemed to be massive, but she didn’t try to save time by skimming), learning that these Marked apparently had what seemed to be superpowers. She started going through the list of powers, convinced that telepathy was going to show up, but found that it got cut off halfway through. Mobile sites.
---As quickly as she could, she clicked to read the full entry, waiting as it loaded, growing ever more frustrated until she was met with a blank screen and an error message. She hit refresh, and again, and again, and went back to the full blog page, but it had disappeared completely. It wasn’t even listed in the search results anymore. But she had something now; she knew what these Marked were, she had some idea of where the others were (even if they weren’t anywhere near her), and if this site had been taken down it must have had something important on it. Or the author realised he was drunk when he wrote it and proceeded to delete it out of embarrassment.
---She was taken by surprise as her phone vibrated in her hand and began ringing – a text. Probably Sam.
---Hopefully Sam.

It came up as a hidden number, but Eve couldn’t help but be a little curious and decided to read it, just in case of the slim chance it had something to do with what she’d been searching for.
---‘Who are you?’
---Eve narrowed her eyes, reading and rereading the three words. Wrong number. It had to be, she hadn’t texted anyone. She deleted it, but almost the moment she did the phone vibrated again, this time with a call. She hung up on it, trying to push away the feeling of dread rising inside her. A minute passed, then another. She breathed a sigh of relief.
---Then the house phone began ringing.
---She froze, waiting for it to ring out and stop. There was hardly any other way they could try to contact her, and her parents were out for the day – her dad was showing off some painting he’d made or something, still trying to convince the world that he was more an artist than a school teacher – so they wouldn’t be picking it up. After about eight rings, it stopped, but Eve didn’t move, still frozen, still waiting for the next ring, not daring to even breathe in case the phone started again.

The next ring was the doorbell. Eve couldn’t help but gasp, as she heard a voice and keys fumbling and the door creaking open and–
---“Eve! I'm home!” Sarah called out, and Eve smiled. It was all in her head. It must have been, it was just coincidence. But still, like one of those nightmares that feel so real even after you’ve woken up, the fear and the dread just lurked there on the outskirts of her mind, waiting for the next ring to be whoever was looking for her. “Eve?”
---“I’m upstairs, mom!” she shouted down, surprised at how calm and unbothered her voice sounded. She heard her mother coming up the stairs, and then her head peeked around the door.
---“You should try to go outside at some point, Eve,” Sarah sighed, seeing the phone in her daughter’s hand. “Being cooped up in here on your phone all day can hardly be healthy.”
---“Being cooped up all day in here on my guitar might be a little healthier,” Eve suggested, earning another sigh from her mother.
---“I’m just here for a few minutes,” she said, changing the topic. “Your father has just realised that he left his glasses here.”
---“Haven’t you been there for about two hours?”
---“Yes, and he’s been complaining about how much blurrier all the paintings seem since the last time he’s been there for quite a while.”
---“As a joke?”
---“Sadly not. He realised about an hour and a half after we arrived that he wasn’t wearing his glasses and sent me back to get them.”
---Eve raised an eyebrow. “How many times so far has he claimed to be a genius?”
---“Six, if you don’t count the sarcastic one about the absence of his glasses. But anyway, I really have to just grab them and get back, I just wanted to check in on you,” Sarah explained.
---“Okay,” Eve smiled, watching her mother’s head disappear as the door closed. She waited, listening as her mother closed the front door and the car drove away, and she was left with silence and the knowledge that whoever was trying to contact her wouldn’t have given up just yet.

- - -

29th July
2012
London, England

Alex slowly ascended the stairs away from the dungeon where David and Stephen were being kept. He wondered if it was his fault that they were in there, then decided that if he hadn’t decided to work with Crux then it would have just been him in there and one of the others playing his current part.
---But that wouldn’t have happened, because Crux knew he would work with him. Somehow Alex felt that he’d been singled out among the others, chosen for a specific reason, that Crux had just known it would be easier to make him co-operate. He was weaker than them, and Crux recognised that, but perhaps it meant that he would underestimate him. If he was weak and passive then he wouldn’t act, but he was going to.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped, hearing two guards walking past. The footsteps were growing closer and closer, and he was even able to make out what they were saying. He took a deep breath in and held it, trying to remain completely still.
---“What do you think of this kid, then?” one of them asked.
---“I’m not really sure. I wasn’t really expecting the Marked to be children, you know?” the second replied.
---“Well, we were all children once,” the first shrugged.
---“I don’t really see gods returning as children. I mean, what if they aren’t gods? What if they’re only kids with powers they don’t understand?”
---Alex heard one set of footsteps stop just outside, immediately followed by the other, and felt a bead of sweat creep slowly down his forehead. “You’re starting to sound like Thompson. You remember what happened to him?”
---“He... was executed.”
---“He got blown apart,” the first corrected. “The Cult doesn’t take kindly to disrespect.”
---“Calm down, I’m not planning to convert any time soon,” the other guard assured him.
---“I’d hope not,” the first growled, and as they started walking again and the footsteps faded away Alex considered breathing a sigh of relief, but the words of the guards seemed to hang in the air over him as some intangible threat: Crux was not to be messed with.

Alex sat in his room later, trying to figure out how he could break David and Stephen out. He could use his powers, he supposed, but what good would they do? He could knock out the guards and take down the security cameras, but he didn’t see what he could do after that. He didn’t know who had the keys... although he did have a suspect in mind.
---Crux liked to be in control. He wasn’t afraid of doing the dirty work himself, as evidenced by him showing up at the police station. It made sense for him to have the keys, and if he did he probably kept them on him. So Alex just had to get to Crux... or wait for Crux to come to him. He grinned, but it became a frown almost instantly as the lights in his room went out. He stood up, walking towards the door, and felt for the handle, but there was nothing there, and even unadjusted as his eyes were he could clearly make out the bright white suit in front of him.
---“Going somewhere, Alex?”

- - -

Crux sat back on the chair in his office, his legs crossed and up on the desk, sipping at a cup of tea. Alex was safely locked away with David and Stephen, and he already had all the information he needed – the plan would continue as, well, planned. He grinned as he lay the cup down. There was a knock at his door, and quickly brought his legs down, sitting up and pressing a small button on top of his desk to unlock the door, looking curiously at the security guard who passed through. “What do you want?”
---“I know what you’re doing,” he said.
---“Hm?” Crux tilted his head slightly, hoping to earn some explanation from the guard. He wasn’t the first to suspect something, and probably wouldn’t be the last, but he still needed to know how much he knew and how many others he’d told.
---“You have the Marked locked downstairs,” the guard explained. “You’ve been doing all those tests on Electricity to find out how their powers work, because you want them for yourself.”
---Crux couldn’t help it; he laughed. He looked in the guard’s face and he laughed. “How many people have you told about this?”
---“No one, yet.”
---“I see. And what, exactly, do you think you’re going to do?” Crux asked, his tone now completely serious.
---“I’m going to kill you,” the guard answered, pulling out the gun he’d had in his pocket and firing. He watched as Crux looked down at his brilliant white shirt, now slowly turning red, then back up at him. The guard couldn’t keep his eyes off the shirt, though, as the red slowly receded and the bullet itself was spat out through the same hole it had created in Crux’s shirt.
---“Good luck with that,” Crux smirked, standing up and beginning to walk toward the guard. “Mr Stuart, isn’t it?”
---“Y-yes...” the guard whimpered, backing away from Crux.
---“You have a wife, don’t you?”
---“Yes, I do,” the guard nodded.
---“Part of the Cult?” This time Crux didn’t get a spoken response, but the guard did nod his head. Under different circumstances, Crux might have considered pitying him, but pity was an emotion he’d left behind him a long, long time ago. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her the truth of what happened here. Preserve your honour. I’m sure she’ll love hearing about how you took the same bullet that was meant to take my life. Or, at least, the closest available at the time.”
---Crux had fired the gun before the guard had even had time to register its presence, and he looked down at the red spreading across his shirt, almost as though he was hoping he would mimic Crux and survive.
---He had no such luck.
---“By the way, I’ll make sure that everyone knows that your last act was buying me a new shirt with your payment for this month,” Crux smiled icily, leaning over the man as he made a weak gurgling sound. When he was certain he was dead, he walked back to his desk, trying to ignore the red smear the guard had left on the perfectly white wall, and pressed a small red button beneath a microphone. “Hello, reception? Another assassination attempt, you’ll need to send in the clean-up crew.”
---With that, he sat back in his chair, putting his feet back up on the desk and lifting up the teacup. He put it down, frowning, as the lukewarm liquid slithered down his throat, then pressed the microphone button again. “While you’re at it, could you send up a new cup of tea? This one’s gone cold.”

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Chapter 9 – The Evil You Know

30th July
2012
London, England

“Alex, huh? What a success story,” Stephen commented sarcastically.
---“I can hear you, you know,” Alex sighed from the next cell.
---“His brilliant break-out plan ended in nothing other than getting himself locked up with us,” the other boy continued. “Obviously the man is a genius.”
---“You do know that I couldn’t care less what you think of me, right?”
---“Enough!” David interrupted. “Could you two stop arguing for a few minutes while I try to figure out some kind of plan?”
---It was clear that Alex and Stephen weren’t particularly fond of each other. In David’s opinion, it was because they were at the same time too similar and not quite similar enough – just the right balance to make them clash. And unfortunately for him, they never seemed to stop.
---There didn’t seem to be a way out. None of them could use their powers, they no longer had any allies on the outside... unless... “Alex, can you use your powers?”
---“Well, I can, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I will,” Alex answered.
---“Why not? You could help get us out of here?”
---“Yes, and into brand new cells where they won’t be of any use at all. Besides, I don’t want to use them. It’s not right.”
---“Alex, you’ve been given a gift. You have powers, like us, but even compared to Stephen and me and all the others yours are unique. You obviously have them for a reason, and that reason isn’t to pretend they don’t exist,” David smiled, but Alex was silent. Something told him that he was unimpressed.
---“Gift?” Alex chuckled darkly. “You call this a gift? It’s a curse. You just haven’t realised it yet. And I’m all the worse, because I’m the one with lightning coming out of my hands. I’m the one who can hurt people, whether I mean to or not. It’s too dangerous. I never asked for this. I never asked to be a god. So whoever’s making the decisions up there obviously just picked the wrong guy.”
---David sighed. He knew that there was no point arguing against Alex – he’d met people like him before, so caught up in their own self pity they refused to see anything good. But there was something else, a nagging sensation in the back of his head that told him Alex might have been right.
---David had had a good life. He was popular, he was well-liked, he was respected. But everything had just been turned upside down the morning he’d gotten his powers, and he could tell that it things wouldn’t be the same again. It had only been about a week, and already he was locked in a jail cell with his life in danger. Where would he be in a month? A year? When would it finally become too much?
---Almost as a response to his question, the world around him became dark, and he felt himself falling backwards.

- - -

David looked around, finding himself in a plain, abandoned building. The walls were all white and clean, as was the floor, so shiny that it reflected the walls and ceiling, but not David himself. He felt himself being pulled forwards, and began walking towards a set of stairs, leading down in front of him. The door to them was left open, but he simply drifted through it, and as he reached the bottom he found himself in a room, where he was met with a very strange sight:
---Before him was a chair, made of metal, straps and chains attached to it but now hanging loose, but that wasn’t what drew David’s attention; The circle on the outside was slightly incomplete so that it looked like a C, and the paint was dripping down from its eyes in such a way as it almost looked to be crying. There was something off about the shapes in the face itself, the eyes incomplete like the outside, the nose an odd shape, the mouth a little too narrow and what seemed to be a chin drawn on it. The paint was unnerving to, a dark red that could almost have been...
---David took a few steps forward, reaching out his hand to touch the wet liquid on the walls, not trusting himself to make assumptions on what it was. Suddenly, he heard voices and footsteps behind him, people running. He couldn’t make out the words, but he recognised the voice, and the face he glimpsed as the one running ahead of the rest reached the bottom of the stairs and the world fell out of focus as he felt chills running down his spine.
---The face was his own.

- - -

David woke just in time to witness the cells falling into chaos. He could hear bullets being fired further down the hall, and smokes and cries of pain were wafting up towards him, the grey gas creeping along the floor, desperate to further its reach and still hold on to life. But they slid aside as a man made his way through them, his hair dark and messy, his face narrow and unshaven and his eyes crazed. He stopped in front of David’s cell, raising the gun in his hand, and David backed away, pressing himself against the wall and doing his best to tear his eyes away from the madman in front of him. His finger tightened on the trigger, and David forced his eyes shut, preparing himself for what would come next. This was it. Whether his vision helped or hindered him, he couldn’t know – perhaps it meant he would live, but then again this could be as a direct result of him witnessing his own future. The universe would sort out its problems by removing them. The gunshot. A second passed. Then another. David inched his eyes open, looking down to see where the bullet had gone, then up at the man, standing with his smoking gun and looking right at him.
---The man shoved the door of the cell open, and David glanced at the bullet hole torn through the lock, the realisation of what he’d done dawning on him – he’d shot the lock in order to open it. He wasn’t trying to kill David, he was trying to free him.
---“Come on, we have to get out,” the man urged, the familiarity of his Irish accent coming as a surprise to David.
---“The others–” David was cut off as the man fired off two more shots and the other cell doors rattled and creaked open on their hinges.
---“Are taken care of,” he grinned. “Now, come on, Crux will have his goons here any minute.”
---David nodded, and walked quickly but cautiously out of his cell, taking a moment to look at Alex and Stephen. Both seemed shaken, but Alex perhaps less so. With that done, he turned back to the man who had broken them out. “Who are you?”
---“I’m your enemy’s enemy,” he answered. “You can call me Thompson.”
---David caught Alex’s eyes widening at the mention of the man’s name, but Thompson himself didn’t seem to notice. He made a mental note to ask him about it later.
---“Now, we have to leave,” Thompson repeated, before rushing down the corridor. The other two Marked looked to David, who replied with a shrug before following Thompson. It wasn’t like they had another option available.

- - -

“You’re sure it was him?” Crux asked, examining the hole shot perfectly through the lock on what used to be David’s cell door.
---The man beside him nodded. “The guards say he left a note. Telling you what he thought of our– I mean, your plan. He didn’t use specifics, though, we’re safe.”
---“Doctor Simons, I know exactly what Thompson thinks of my plan,” Cru growled, slamming the door with a loud slam and making Simons cringe. “What I want to know is whether we have enough information.”
---“Well, I mean, we have information, but–” Simons became silent as Crux’s head snapped around, his sharp gaze freezing him in place. “No, not yet. We need another... I mean, I think I know what needs done, we just don’t have enough in terms of samples.”
---“Doctor Simons, I will drain them dry if that is what it takes,” Crux hissed. “We’re making this happen.”
---“Y-yes, s-sir. Whatever you say.”
---Crux sighed. Too much effort had gone into this for a dead man to spoil it all now. It was a wonder he’d gotten in at all.
---As it turned out, Thompson had acquired some old blueprints, showing a sewage system that had run through where this part of the building now lay. Using an ally in the guards in the remaining pipes, he’d reached the cells, blasted through the walls and then destroyed the pipes after him. There was no telling where he’d go, and Crux himself was having difficulty figuring out what exactly it was that he was planning to do. Thompson wanted the Marked dead. It would have been so easy to just kill them in their cells and be done with it, but he was thinking outside the box, and he was going to spill precious, precious blood.

- - -

“So, you the only Marked so far?” Thompson asked as though to the group, but the question was very clearly directed at David. Alex was glad of that – too much attention focused on him and Thompson might realise he knew something.
---Alex did, of course, know something – he knew that Thompson was meant to be dead, and he knew that if they stayed with him for too long they’d be too, except their deaths might be noticeably more genuine. He hadn’t said anything yet, though – Thompson was keeping them alive for now, which meant he needed them. Or, more specifically, that he needed David, and that he wouldn’t have his co-operation if he killed the rest of them. It was, if he was perfectly honest with himself, a relief; no more of Crux’s complicated schemes. This was an evil they knew, although perhaps not an evil they could defeat.
---“There’s another, a girl somewhere in America,” David answered, carefully guarding his words. He had noticed Alex’s reaction to Thompson’s name – he obviously had come to the conclusion that there was something off about the man.
---“Very enlightening. Do you have a name or appearance to go with that, or do you expect us to find her based on that information alone?”
---David hesitated, confliction clear in his expression. He glanced at Alex, who gave him a quick nod – best not to draw suspicion. While it would be easier to get information from David through happy co-operation, he could still kill Alex and Stephen and torture the information from him. There was no guarantee that he would, but if he was willing to kill then Alex wouldn’t take the risk involved in him possibly not considering torture moral. “She’s called Eve. Her last name is Winters, I think.”
---“You tried looking her up on any kind of social media?” Thompson asked, leaning back in his chair. The chair was quite simple; as was the room, as was the building. Drawing suspicion was something to be avoided at all costs, in order to prevent Crux from finding them. It was in stark contrast to the Cult’s base, hidden behind a skyscraper. It was obvious which of the two had more of a flair for the dramatic. With Thompson, everything was short, simple, concise – he gave you the facts he wanted to, nothing more. Some people might just think he didn’t care, but the level of caution in his words proved that everything had been thought through and censored to the point where only what was completely necessary got across, without a lie involved. Thompson was indeed their enemy’s enemy. That just didn’t mean he wasn’t theirs as well.
---“No, I haven’t gotten the chance,” David admitted.
---“Not a problem. Excuse me for a minute,” Thompson smiled thinly, getting up and walking out of the door at the end of the room. As soon as his footsteps had faded, David turned to Alex.
---“You feel like telling us what’s going on?” he asked impatiently, obviously trying to get what needed said said before Thompson’s return.
---“It’ll take too long to explain this in detail, but Thompson is supposed to be dead. He believes that the Marked are too dangerous to be kept around. Meaning that our lives are in danger, right now.” David opened his mouth to form a reply, but just as he did Thompson returned, carrying what looked like a laptop bag.
---“Alright then. So, you said her name was Eve Winters, right?” Thompson checked, sitting down and removing the computer with barely a glance up.
---“Yes,” David said after a short hesitation. “I think so.”
---“Wonderful.” He began typing rapidly, the three Marked watching him as he did so. “There. Found her.”
---Alex watched as Thompson turned around the laptop, bringing up a photo, address, phone number, and various other details for Eve. He didn’t even want to question its legality. “That her, David?”
---“Not sure,” David said, walking over to the computer in order to get a better look at the photo. Alex watched him scan it, examining it carefully as though some detail was different, before eventually nodding to himself. “Yeah, that’s her.”
---“Brilliant. I’ll manufacture some passports for you,” Thompson grinned, walking away before stopping at the door. “Meanwhile, I recommend that you find some way to contact her.”

- - -

30th July
2012
Manhattan, New York

“That’s when my mom arrived,” Eve finished, waiting for Alice’s response. The incident with her phone had remained constantly on her mind, the details of the site she’d been reading now permanently ingrained in her memory. Alice was the only person who knew what she could do, leaving her as the only person she could talk to.
---“And you think the government did it?” Alice replied. It didn’t take Eve’s power to know that she was sceptical.
---“I don’t know who did it, Alice. All I know is that all this stuff is happening and I have no one to talk to about it.”
---“So that’s what this is? A way of guilt-tripping me?” Alice sighed angrily. “I’m allowed to have other friends, Eve. I get that what you’re going through is difficult, I really do, but I have my own life to deal with.”
---“I didn’t mean it like that!” Eve argued, cursing inwardly. She had chosen her words so well that the number of people she could talk to was now probably a grand total of none. “I just... I need someone to talk to, Alice. All of this is too much for me to deal with on my own.”
---As Alice opened her mouth to speak, Eve’s phone vibrated violently, throwing itself off her desk and on to the floor. Alice picked it up, checking that it was okay.
---“Who was that?” Eve asked, moving to get a better look at the screen. “Sam?”
---“No. Friend request, a guy called David. He’s cute. Not that you'd care, of course.”
---“Give me the phone,” Eve said, trying to grab it from Alice’s hand as she stretched it out beyond her reach and eventually succeeding, before checking the request. “Don’t know him.”
---“You rejecting it, then?”
---“No,” Eve grinned. “Maybe I’ll try to set you two up if he’s so ‘cute’.”
---“Ha ha,” Alice smirked. “He’s probably one of your fans. I bet you won him over with one of your many acoustic covers. Set up a video chat, I want to see his face when you reject him.”
---“Why, so that you can offer yourself in my place? No, thanks.” The phone buzzed in her hand, and she looked down at it. A message from David. God, he must have been desperate. “He’s already sent me an IM.”
---“Ready to dash his hopes? I wonder how much effort he’s put into this compliment. The last guy’s was brilliant,” Alice smiled, watching as Eve read the message. And then stopped reading. And then just stared at the screen. “Eve?”
---“I think I just found someone to talk to,” Eve whispered. “He’s like me, Alice. He has powers.”
---“How do you know?” Alice asked, sitting up straighter, trying to crane her neck to get a look.
---“He’s one of the ones from Ireland. Says he woke up on the 21st and was able to see the future. Well, the near future. And he started getting visions of other people like us,” Eve answered, speaking quickly. She wasn’t alone. There were others like her, at least four of them, if what David said was to be believed. And it seemed real enough – there was something about it that just had a ring of truth.
---“And?”
---“He’s coming here, with some of the others. He needs to know where the nearest airport is,” Eve replied, already typing out her response. “There.”
---“One problem: how are you supposed to get to the airport?”
---Eve was silent, looking at Alice. “How would you feel about lying to my mother?”
---“No.” Alice’s response was immediate, and quite clearly final.
---“I haven’t even told you my plan yet!”
---“The answer is still no, Eve. Remember what happened the last time someone lied to your mom?”
---“If you do this for me I’ll introduce you to David,” Eve suggested.
---“You expect me to put my life on the line for a boy?” Alice questioned, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
---“Yes.”
---Silence. “Alright then.”
---“Thank you!” Eve shouted, leaping on to her friend and hugging her.
---“Please get off me,” Alice sighed, but Eve could tell that she was struggling not to smile. This is it, Eve thought. Things are moving at last.

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Chapter 10 – Liam

31st July
2012
London, England

Complications were ultimately inevitable. This particular one wasn’t terribly problematic.
---David and Stephen had already left to go to New York. Thompson had used a private plane in order to get them there as soon as possible, while he and Alex were waiting behind. David and Stephen, unaware of the true nature of the arrangement, had been told that it was to keep them separated – if Crux reappeared to try and recapture them, there would still be a second group capable of breaking them out. Of course, he and Alex knew different. Which was, in fact, the complication itself: Alex.
---He stroked his beard gently as he sat, staring at Alex. The boy was trying to disguise his fear, and doing quite well, but he could see it in his eyes, he could smell it. Alex was a child, and he was a man. Marked or not, Alex was overall quite powerless. “You know who I am.”
---“Yes,” Alex answered quite simply. His expression was one of anger, and deep concentration, not fear, but Thompson knew that it was there, lurking under the surface, in his lack of confidence. Alex was a child, not a god, but both were just as dangerous when given power beyond was reasonable.
---“So you know why I have to kill you.”
---“No,” Alex responded. An unnatural gleam rose up in his eyes, as he leaned back in his chair and laid one of his legs on top of the other. “On the other hand, I know exactly why you shouldn’t.”
---A pathetic display of immature confidence. Thompson couldn’t help but laugh. “Go on, then.”
---“David and Stephen also know who you are,” A setback, but not an unexpected one. “And what you want to do. You kill me, no matter how you dress it up they’ll know the truth.”
---Clever. Thompson had to hand it to the kid, he knew what he was doing. Unfortunately for him, Thompson also knew what he was doing. “You see, Alex, you’ve overlooked one thing – I can have them all shot dead before they even realise you’ve gone before them.”
---Alex sat up straight, his eyes filling with panic, but the gleam didn’t disappear. As he began standing up, Thompson noticed the blue sparks crackling at his fingertips. You little brat. He ducked out of the way just before Alex brought his hands together and unleashed a blast of electricity at him, scorching his chair. It didn’t matter; the chair was cheap, easily replaced, similarly to everything else Thompson owned.
---“That was a rather serious mistake,” Thompson chuckled, taking out his gun. It was already prepared to fire – there were no chances to be taken with anyone who had as much power as the Marked were rumoured to. He lifted it, pointing it at Alex, but the boy was already prepared to attack him again, his eyes glowing blue and his hands in a similar state. “Well then. This makes things trickier. I suppose you think you can stall me, keep your hands lit up and ready to fire until one of us gives out and you can take the shot. Thing is, that’s gonna tire you out after a while. But a gun? It doesn’t tire out. All I have to do is keep my arm raised.”
---“I’m younger than you. I have more energy.”
---“Perhaps, but I’ve had more time to develop my muscles and I’m not using half as much energy as you are. It’s a waiting game, Alex. And it’s quite clear that I’m going to win.”
---Alex glared at Thompson, angry determination burning in the blue lanterns that were his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
---“Sorry to intrude, but I hope ya’s wouldn’t mind a third player,” a voice spoke out. Southern Irish accent; probably Cork. Thompson couldn’t take the time to look around at the speaker, but it was a male voice, somewhat recently broken – a teenager. These facts, combined with his sudden appearance, meant that he was likely another of the Marked, one he hadn’t met yet. Soon enough, though, he came into sight, and Thompson could make further observations – he was fairly tall for his age, which looked to be about sixteen; he suffered from mild acne; his hair was black and fairly long, and it looked to have been washed very recently, suggesting that the acne may in part have been caused by its greasiness. “Oh, of course, I forgot to introduce myself. You can call me Liam.”

- - -

21st July
2012
Ferry, Irish Sea

Liam had never been one for boats. The sound of the water, splashing against the sides, the sickening swaying of the vehicle, and the permanent hint of salt on the air never agreed with him. This time, though, he was making an exception.
---This particular boat was carrying two people about whom he cared very much: the Marked of Foresight and Teleportation, potentially invaluable assets. Perhaps David had treated him like a fool before, but he was sure that as he came to realise his potential he would realise also the error of his ways. The Marked were gods in human form, he knew this, but the others didn’t quite see it yet. So he thought it best to let David unite them – among the abilities granted by Foresight were visions of the future, more often than not involving the other Marked. The visions at the moment were likely agreeing with Liam’s plans of uniting them, and as such he saw a point in following David. He hadn’t gone with him to wherever he found Stephen, instead waiting near his home to see when he returned, but the suitcase he had with him when he left the second time tipped Liam off that he would be leaving the country.
---Hiding on board the ferry was an easy enough task – he just waited until they were on board and out of the way and then used telekinesis to get over there and open a way on. He didn’t have to worry about being seen – there didn’t seem to be any people around, and even past that he didn’t care if he was seen, although it was for the time being a good precautionary measure. The six Marked united would probably be able to hold off an angry mob, but the same mightn’t be said for one.
---The possibility of an angry mob wasn’t actually something Liam had considered before, but after speaking to David his perspective had been forced to change. Humanity wasn’t just going to lie down and accept six teenagers as its leaders; there would be those who feared the Marked in an altogether incorrect way, removing them for their obvious superiority. Not everyone wanted to be ruled.
---Among his plans was to make the Marked feared – they were powerful enough. He was powerful enough. Alone, he could do something enough to put the whole country into a panic. It was exciting just to imagine what he could do with the others behind him...

- - -

30th July
2012
Somewhere in the south of England

Liam sat cross-legged on the grass, watching fluffy white clouds pass through the otherwise unbroken azure, the sun’s heat beating down on him. He had no worries of being burned; he would be gone long before enough time had passed to cause him any damage.
---What he was planning was a feat of timing and strength, perhaps a tad tricky to accomplish. Before him lay train tracks, the strict path for the vehicle soon to be approaching. Liam was going to take it off that path.

It was difficult to judge how many people would be on the train, and even more so how many would be killed. But there would be survivors, left to remember what happened, to fear the power of the Marked. So he waited, listening for the signature sound of the train – he had been watching this place for over a week now, the precise timing of when it would pass drilled into his mind.
---It didn’t come.

Liam shivered as he felt a dark chill on his back, the sunlight blocked, and turned to look at its source – a pale man with white-blonde hair, dressed all in white, apart from his black sunglasses and umbrella.
---“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” the man grinned, taking in a deep breath and sitting down next to Liam.
---“What do you want?” Liam asked monotonously, turning away to face the tracks once again.
---“I hear you’re looking for the Marked,” the man stated, his voice suddenly growing more serious. “I guess you could say that I am too.”
---Although he didn’t show it, internally Liam froze. Whoever this man was, he seemed an unlikely ally, and his intentions left more unsaid than they did explained. It was quite clear, though, that whatever he had in store for Liam and the rest of the Marked, it would unlikely be pleasant. Immediately, Liam began working on an escape plan – but what did he have available to him?
---He almost grinned as he spotted exactly what he was looking for. Yes, it would do quite nicely... but he needed time. “Do you have a proposition?”
---“I suggest that we work together.” Unlikely. Liam didn’t see himself working with a human. “With your records and my resources, we can have them in no time.”
---“I’m afraid I’ll have to turn you down,” Liam replied, following up instantly by swinging his arm around towards his companion. On the other side of the tracks, the signpost Liam had been working to dislodge leapt up, flying toward the man and using its spike to impale itself in his throat, continuing through until it finally came to a halt. The man stared at Liam, seemingly shocked, looking down at the pole imbedded in his neck and the blood pouring on to his crisp white suit. Grimacing, he grabbed the pole with both hands and, in a feat of strength Liam would have considered beyond him, ripped it free, still clean apart from the patches of rust on its surface. Liam watched in amazement as the blood retracted and the gaping hole filled itself in in a matter of seconds, leaving no mark or sign of injury. Regeneration – now that was a new ability, and certainly not a human one. “Then again, I might be inclined to reconsider.”

- - -

31st July
2012
London, England

“My plan, as it stands, will involve realising your true potential,” the man Liam now knew as Crux explained. “But I can’t do it without everyone, you see. That’s why I need your knowledge of where everyone else is.”
---“I don’t know where they are,” Liam admitted, lounging in a chair as he watched Crux. “But I believe I know who they are.”
---Crux was interesting, Liam had to admit. He quite clearly had his own motives, ones which didn’t coincide with Liam’s, but when the time came, if he brought together the six Marked they could easily take him down, regeneration or no regeneration. It was a mutually beneficial partnership... for the time being.
---“Alright. I know where one is, at the very least, and I’d say two of the others are probably nearby,” Crux shrugged. “I had him here some time ago, and I’ve implanted a small tracker in his wrist. I know exactly where to find him.”
---“Wonderful,” Liam grinned. Three of the other Marked – the two Crux wasn’t tracking were likely David and Stephen, and judging by where they’d gone the third was probably Alex, being the only one living in that area. If Liam remembered correctly, he was descended from Electricity; another ability that could easily be used to fight. Brilliant. “Lead the way.”

- - -

“You can call me Liam,” he smirked, standing in front of Thompson. Crux had filled him in on everything he needed to know – Thompson wanted the Marked dead, and he had abducted David, Stephen, and Alex. David and Stephen, unfortunately, didn’t seem to be present, but Liam was certain Alex would be co-operative. First item on the agenda – Thompson’s gun. A flick of Liam’s wrist and it was tossed aside. Another flick, and so was Thompson. Damage inspection – Liam had thrown him into a wall, and he appeared to be unconscious. His head was bleeding fairly badly, although he doubted the wound was too deep. Possible chance of brain damage.
---With Thompson’s body inspected, Liam turned to Alex, who still had his hands electrified. Whether it was in case Thompson got up or in case Liam attacked him next, he wasn’t sure. “He’s out cold.”
---“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Alex retorted, although his stance did loosen slightly. So it was Liam he was cautious of.
---“I’m like you, you know. Telekinesis.”
---“I’m aware,” Alex pointed out, his tone still quite aggressive. “Your demonstration there kind of pointed that out, and David said a few things about you.”
---“I realise that I may not have approached David with due tact,” Liam lied. He was perfectly tactful, David was just ignorant. Regardless, best to give Alex what he wanted to hear. “But I’m here to help now.”
---“Prove it.”
---“As you wish.” This was perfect. A wonderful opportunity to use the information Crux had given him to his advantage. “Crux placed a tracking device in your wrist while you were staying with him. I’d recommend putting some electricity through there, to blow it.” Liam figured Alex had taken his advice when the other boy cried out, gripping his left wrist and swearing. “Come on. If he asks anything, we can say you just injured it when we were up against Thompson.”
---“You’re with him?” Alex asked, observing Liam suspiciously.
---“For now, yes. Taking advantage of an opportunity to unite the Marked. I reckon we can take him together,” Liam grinned.

- - -

31st July
2012
London, England

As it turned out, Thompson wasn’t the only one with access to private jets.
---Alex sat beside Liam, looking out the window as the plane took off. Crux was elsewhere, not watching them as closely as he might have, but why would he? They weren’t a threat now. Anything they did would put everyone’s life at risk.
---He was still suspicious of Liam, and with good reason: not only did he think that the Marked were gods, he was working with Crux. Admittedly, Alex had been in that position before, but Crux held nothing over Liam – he was doing it voluntarily. What did that say about him? First and foremost, that he was used to using people as tools, and was making serious underestimations. Or, alternatively, that he was in on the whole thing.
---No, he wouldn’t be. He was too confident. If he was acting confident, he would try to avoid overdoing it, and if he wanted to avoid being confident he’d try to understate it. What was coming across now was pure arrogance. “What’s your deal?”
---“What?” Liam responded, confused. Alex felt he’d awoken him from some kind of daydream.
---“I mean, where does all this stuff about us being gods come from? Where are you getting it?”
---“I was raised to be a god,” Liam answered, matter-of-factly. “It’s been a tradition. My mother knew that my destiny was to take up my ancestor’s ability, and she spent my whole childhood preparing me for it. My dad didn’t like it, though.”
---“What happened to him?” Alex asked.
---Liam shrugged. “I heard them arguing one night, and after that I didn’t see him again.”
---Alex nodded. “My dad left my mum and me, too.”
---“Oh, he didn’t leave,” Liam said, frowning.
---“What do you mean?”
---“It doesn’t matter,” Liam replied, shaking his head as though to force away the memory. “I just know that he didn’t leave.”
---Alex found it odd, something he held in common with another of the Marked. Of course, his dad had left quite of his own accord, although Alex could believe easily enough that the other boy was just denying reality – it wouldn’t be the first time. Alex thought at the time that he’d seemed sad about it, but now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he had just been seeing what he wanted to see. He couldn’t find a reason that his dad would have left if he was going to feel sad about it afterwards.

He could still remember the day he’d left perfectly. It was a Saturday, and he’d woken up earlier than usual. He was downstairs, eating a bowl of cereal – rushing the first layer, there hadn’t been enough milk so he had to eat the dry stuff before everything underneath got soggy. His dad had come downstairs, not realising Alex was already up judging by his surprised reaction when he saw him. Alex could even remember the clothes his dad had been wearing; black jeans and a medium blue T-shirt. Since then, Alex had always worn the same clothes, hoping that somehow they could help bring his dad back.
---They hadn’t yet.
---“So, you know stuff about the original Marked, then?” Alex questioned, changing the subject. It was something he found very interesting, especially seeing how sparse details of them seemed to be.
---“They were powerful beings, each carrying an amazing ability: Telekinesis, Necromancy, Foresight, Electricity, Telepathy, and Teleportation. With those powers, they attempted to lead humanity, gaining massive amounts of supporters, but in time there were those who opposed them. With unearthly help, they were able to trick the Marked into their defeat, and trapped them far beneath the earth in what they believed to be an inescapable tomb,” Liam explained. “At least, that’s how my mother told it to me.”
---David had said Eve was Telepathy, which left Necromancy unaccounted for. One missing Marked... Oh well. They’d probably turn up soon enough.

- - -

1st August
2012
Manhattan, New York

“Alright, you two will be staying here for now,” Eve smiled. Alice was not smiling. Alice was frowning, and her eyebrows were hanging unusually low so that her forehead was now stretched quite tightly and the small spots which had made their way on to it were slightly more visible than usual. The agreement was somewhat of a last-minute thing – and, in fact, that one joke Eve had made about where David could sleep had almost prevented it from happening altogether. “It’s... a bit temporary, you have to stay somewhere and my house isn’t exactly open. Alice’s parents are away for the next two weeks, so this is where you’re going to be until we sort something else out.”
---“Thank you,” David replied, glancing over at Alice and earning a slightly more pleasant facial expression. “Now, I need to discuss some things with you.”
---“Um... sure,” Eve shrugged. This was obviously going to be something to do with the Marked, and Eve couldn’t say that she wasn’t expecting something like this, even if she wasn’t sure exactly what.

- - -

“To put it as simply as possible, we need you,” David finished, sitting next to Eve on Alice’s sofa. Alice herself was sitting on another seat, watching David and Eve (although more David, Eve suspected) intensely, while Stephen found himself on the floor and was remaining silent and uninterested. “So, what do you say?”
---“You’re telling me, David,” Eve replied, “That I am one of six unique people with multiple unique problems, all of which are likely to end up killing us, and you want me to join you so that you can bring all of us together?”
---“Let’s put it another way: they’re going to come for you, Crux or Thompson or Liam, whether you come with us or not. The only difference is that this way, you’re not alone. This way, you actually have a chance of survival. If you want to sit at home and pretend nothing’s going on, be my guest, but I guarantee you that it won’t work out well for long.”
---Eve sat back, looking at David and thinking through what he’d said. Things hadn’t taken too long to get complicated for her – she’d already messed things up not too long before with whoever was trying to contact her, and if they were connected to the people David was talking about then she was in a lot of trouble. And even if she could read the thoughts of anyone trying to attack her before they could get anywhere near her, that gave very little of an advantage when she was hardly equipped to fight them off with her bare hands. And David had described these other powers – electricity, telekinesis, they could quite easily be used for defence. As much as she disliked the idea of being around other people just so they could defend her, it seemed like a fair trade, giving up a little pride in order to stay alive. “Alright. I’m in.”
---David smiled, relieved. “Glad to have you, Eve.”
---“So what’s the plan?” Alice asked, and David almost seemed to jump slightly, as though he’d forgotten she was there. Alice didn’t seem to have noticed – which was likely a good thing, given the amount of attention she’d been giving David. Eve didn’t want her getting her heart broken. She didn’t want her going out with David either, admittedly, but that was because of all the Marked having their lives in danger. Thompson and Crux didn’t sound like people to be messed with, and Eve had no doubt they’d use whatever leverage they could – and if they took a best friend and a girlfriend, that would be two birds with one stone. It at least had to be difficult for them.
---“Well,” David began, tugging slightly on the collar of his T-shirt. Eve could see his face going slightly red – Alice had caught him out. “There’s no plan to speak of, at the moment, but as long as you’re still fine with us staying here for now Eve and I can try to work something out.”
---“Seems fine,” Alice nodded, although Eve was looking at Stephen trying to decide whether to smirk or be offended at having been left out of the decision-making. David, too, seemed to have noticed it, and this time Alice had noticed that he wasn’t really paying attention to her, judging by her hurt expression. It seemed that things were going swimmingly.

- - -

1st August
2012
Somewhere in North America

Touchdown.
---The plane gradually came to a stop on the private runway, and Alex watched the sand outside go from an indistinguishable blur to a slightly more distinguishable one as the plane’s movement ceased altogether. Crux appeared from elsewhere in the plane, gesturing for him and Liam to get up, which they did, before following him to the door and down the steps. Awaiting them was a group of people – six men dressed in camouflaged, military clothing, and one wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. They were all wearing sunglasses, similarly to Crux, who was carrying his black umbrella as usual, creating a little pool of shade around him as he approached the Americans. The one in the T-shirt was smiling, although something about it didn’t seem quite genuine. Crux made no attempt to return the gesture.
---“So this is where you’ve hidden yourselves away, then?” Crux asked, looking around. “Very remote. Not particularly impressive.”
---“Actually, we’re based in New York, this was just the most inconspicuous way of bringing you in,” the other man explained. He didn’t appear to be on the friendliest of terms with Crux, although that wasn’t necessarily a good thing – after all, Thompson wasn’t either, and look how he’d turned out. “We’re going to take you all there now.”
---“Thank you,” Crux replied sharply.
---“Are they...?”
---“Yes, they are.” The answer was pointed, again carrying the venom that his previous interactions with the other man had displayed. As the other man nodded and glanced at them, Alex tried to make out what he was feeling behind his false grin, but his face was all but unreadable. Liam stood at his side, looking uninterested, his arms folded behind his back and his expression condescending, an immediate tipoff to his godly delusions.
---“Alright then. We’ll bring you back to the base.”

- - -

New York

The Cult’s American base was much less spectacular from the outside; a fairly ordinary-looking building. It was hard to believe that it could house something anything like what Crux had back in England – although once inside and underground (they seemed to have a thing for that) it was similar enough; the perfect white walls, the identical corridors. The only difference was that where the English Cult had been focused on science, the American was focused on military. Clearly, they had a lot of resources here as well, because their leader practically had his own private army.
---“I know it’s not much to look at from the outside compared with London’s only skyscraper,” said the man in the T-shirt, whose name, Alex had learned on the way there, was Johnson (it appeared that Crux didn’t get along well with people whose last names ended with ‘son’), “But we’ve got all the important stuff where it counts. I think you’ll find this place a good deal more comfortable than those cells they have in England.”
---Johnson was referring to the rooms such as the one he’d stayed in, Alex knew, but the comparison with cells set him slightly on edge, and appeared to do the same for Crux. Liam was looking bored and superior as usual, his attempt at nonchalance coming off as arrogance so strong it was almost painful to be near him. “I’d imagine. My stay, personally, wouldn’t lead me to recommend them.”
---Crux glared at Alex, silencing him, before looking back to Johnson and continuing to walk in silence. Liam was practically strutting. Alex could feel his skin crawling as he looked at him, taking back everything he’d said earlier about them having things in common – it was impossible not to hate Liam.
---“So, tell me, have you found the one here?” Crux asked.
---“We have indeed. Came across her quite by accident – got a security alert when we found a blog about the Marked, had to take it down. There was one person viewing it at the time, though, and going through the search history we found out that they’d been looking for information on the Marked without any idea what they were looking for. A little research and we found out where she lives.” Eve, Alex thought, biting his lip. If Crux found her, then he’d find David and Stephen as well... “We’re still working out everything, but we’re planning to put her under surveillance before we go in and get to her before someone else does.”
---“So you heard about Thompson, then?”
---“Of course. You really think something like that wouldn’t get out?” Johnson’s previous levity had disappeared, his expression and tone now entirely serious. “I heard about their living conditions, too. I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, Crux, but I guarantee you the Council won’t be happy.”
---“What I’m playing at?” Crux chuckled. “Our friends in Ireland have gone AWOL and we’ve got gods spread across the world in the bodies of teenagers, don’t you think that those should be our focus?”
---Johnson was silent for a moment, a slightly worried expression crossing his face. “Ireland is a more complicated situation than you might imagine, Crux, and not one we can discuss right now.”
---Crux nodded, looking similarly anxious. What was going on in Ireland? Crux said that he’d been having difficulty contacting the branch in Dublin, Alex remembered, but he hadn’t explained what was going on. David and Stephen were Irish – maybe they’d have some idea? Of course, he couldn’t ask them at the moment. He’d have to remember that for when he got back to them.
---Or, if things turned out badly, when they got back to him.

- - -

2nd August
2012
New York

“No.”
---“Artemis, I can’t trust you with them,” Johnson sighed. “There are deep-rooted differences between our branches, but this isn’t about that. You locked the Marked up in underground cells. You’ve been in charge too long, and it’s taking a mental toll on you. The Marked are my responsibility now. Go home.”
---“I want to stay until you’ve brought them in,” Crux argued. “You’ve already got all three of them under surveillance, that wouldn’t take too long. Then I’m out of your hair.”
---He should have realised that Johnson would be a problem, so dedicated to the Cult’s beliefs. So stupid, too. Crux almost found himself missing Thompson – not only was he the closest he’d ever had to an intellectual equal, he had the respect to refer to him by his last name, despite having in Crux’s opinion earned the right to call him by his first. Johnson had earned no such right.
---Johnson looked suspiciously at Crux for a few seconds, as though gathering his thoughts in order to give an answer. “Alright. But don’t try anything.”
---“Of course not,” Crux smirked. “Will that be all?”
---“Yes. Consider yourself dismissed.” At that, Crux stood up and began walking away, but was interrupted by Johnson before he reached the door. “Just one more thing: have you found Necromancy yet?”
---“Yes.”
---“Where?”
---“Ireland,” Crux grinned, walking out and closing the door behind him, leaving Johnson to stare wide-eyed at the empty space he’d left behind him.

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  • 3 months later...

Chapter 11 - Old Habits

4th August
2012
Manhattan, New York

David sat at the foot of Eve’s bed, a spot usually occupied by Alice, and Eve watched as he looked curiously at her, wondering if she was reading his thoughts and what she wanted to talk to him about. Her insight into his mind, however, was one that she quickly disconnected after some of his proposals began worrying her.
---“So,” he said. “You have something you want to say?”
---“Yes,” Eve smiled, although the rest of her expression didn’t quite match up. She felt a knot growing in her stomach, worrying that she was making a bad decision, before pushing those thoughts aside. “I noticed, David, that you and Alice have become rather close over the past few days.”
---“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re close–”
---“Good,” Eve interrupted. “Keep it that way. Alice is my best friend, David. I don’t want her getting involved in anything with you. This isn’t something personal,” she added, feeling the hurt and offense coming from David; “I trust you. I don’t know you particularly well, but I do trust you. You’re holding yourself together despite everything that’s going on, and I respect that. God knows I’m not managing, and Stephen’s been keeping to himself so I can’t speak for him.”
---“I think you’re doing fine, Eve.” Sympathy. Pity. Perhaps a little worry. David’s emotions were making Eve rather uncomfortable, a new facet of her power she didn’t seem to be able to get away from. She hadn’t noticed it when she was only interacting with her parents or Alice – she knew them well enough that she could tell how they were feeling anyway. It was the introduction of strangers that had brought it to her attention, and it sufficed to say that she didn’t like it.
---“This isn’t about me. This is about her.” Eve paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in before looking at David once again. “You’ve told me that we are of interest to a number of dangerous people. And from what you’ve told me, these people are not confined by morality, by basic human decency, they will do anything and everything they can to get to us. Alice is already in danger as my best friend, I don’t want her put in any more.”
---David was silent. He didn’t seem too emotionally affected, just a little disappointed. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay. If you think it’s for the best.”
---As David finished, Eve heard ringing downstairs. “Hold on, I’ll just be a minute,” she began, standing up as David leaned over and put his hand on his forehead, walking out of her room and down to the phone.
---“Hello?” she began, picking it up.
---“Hello,” the voice on the other end replied. It sounded female, but it wasn’t the bored tone of one of those ridiculous advertisers, or a voice she recognised. It sounded anxious, even scared. “Is this Sarah Winters?”
---“No, it’s her daughter, Eve.” Something about the person on the line didn’t seem right to Eve. She felt the urge to throw down the phone and get away from it as quickly as possible. “Can I take a message?”
---There was a low beep on the other end of the line, indicating that the person had hung up. But even as she set the phone down, Eve couldn’t lose that petrified feeling. She stood still, trying to take deep breaths, but nothing would assuage it. Then it hit her:
---The feeling wasn’t hers.

Eve ran up the stairs, throwing open the door to her room. David was lying on the ground, writhing, and although his eyes were closed it was like someone was holding a torch up behind his eyelids, illuminating them. She rushed over to him, crouching over him and taking his hand. “David! David, wake up. David, wake up now.
---She could feel the emotion pouring off him, the panic, the sheer terror of the moment. Whatever he was seeing, it was not good.


- - -

Darkness. A high-pitched ringing, penetrating David’s ears, forcing him down on to his knees as he tried to fight against it. Flashes of... something. Maybe not the same thing. An aeroplane. A man in a hooded cloak. A girl who appeared to be aflame. He was screaming, but the darkness wouldn’t let it out. It was choking him, strangling him, a living mass of utter blackness. It was freezing cold, sliding down his throat, trying to fill him up entirely, to eradicate him. And still the flashes went on: a teenager at a store counter. Eve with ginger hair that reached her shoulders. Then the man in the hooded cloak again, standing over the store counter he’d seen before, but the hood was down now, David could see his face, bald and pale and skeletal, its eyes white and lifeless and its nose a gaping hole. But as he watched, it began changing, becoming more human, the nose and hair rapidly growing as the monstrous creature turned into what looked like a man in his late twenties. And suddenly the darkness was gone, his throat was empty, but the vision still surrounded him. He stood up, breathing a sigh of relief.
---Then he realised the man was looking at him.

He wasn’t doing anything, just standing there and staring. He tilted his head, slowly, as though to get a better look at him. Slowly, a wicked grin spread across his face, and David was reminded of his inhumanity as his teeth became visible, sharp and white and animalistic. Then it was darkness again, but not the same as before; this time it was truly just darkness, and an indistinguishable white shape, gradually coming closer. Or was it growing larger? Regardless, it continued becoming more visible, forming lines, a simplistic shape of two identical triangles, placed so that the one below was reflected on to the one on top, touching right at the corner, almost like an hourglass. And then it kept growing, or approaching, and David tried to shield his eyes as it began to look as though he was about to be swallowed into it–

- - -

New York

Stephen sat over David, watching him. He had been lying peacefully for quite a while, the initial fitful struggle long behind him.

He, Eve and the unconscious David had been taken by the American Cult back to their base, and given a living area reserved for them; six bedrooms and a large room in which they were expected to spend their time while not in them. His reunion with Alex upon his arrival was not particularly pleasant, given that he had almost immediately begun assaulting him with snide remarks which Stephen expected it had taken him all of the last four days to work out.
---This theory held extra merit given he had only had three such remarks.

Stephen didn’t despise Alex. He didn’t hate him, he didn’t dislike him, he just didn’t care about him. He could continue being a prick if he wanted to – compensating for insecurity by asserting one’s masculinity wasn’t exactly something he was unused to, given it’s prevalence as a pastime among teenage boys.
---Claiming to be a deity, however, was not so common a pastime.

Liam was condescending, egotistical, brash, arrogant, and pretty much just Alex turned up to eleven with a little more gratitude in place of Alex’s brooding and self-loathing, another common pastime of teenage boys in romance fiction that just came out as needy rather than sexy in real life.
---This left David and Eve as the only likeable Marked, although the latter slightly more so. David had a major flaw in his need for control, which had led him to make himself the ‘leader’ of the group. Sure, there were some factors which made him an ideal team leader, but Eve both gave out less threats of violence and could actually use her power effectively, a power which was just as useful as being abysmal at seeing the future in a leading position, if not more so. This wasn’t even considering himself for the position, although he would make a pretty good candidate too.

Suddenly, David’s eyes snapped open and he sat up so quickly Stephen wondered for a moment if the few seconds of silence following this meant he had managed to cause himself minor brain damage. “Where are we?”---“Apparently, we’re in the American headquarters of the Cult of the Marked,” Stephen answered. “Everyone’s fine, by the way, although Liam’s a prick.”
---David laid his forehead against his hand, his index finger and thumb pressing into his temples. “Yeah, I figured as much when I– Liam is here?”
---Stephen nodded. “He pulled Alex out when Thompson tried to kill him, then handed him over to Crux.”
---“He try to convince you all that you’re gods yet?”
---“Surprisingly, no. Apparently he had a go at Alex, though, according to his abridged (if dramatised) version of his magnificent rescue, in which he telekinetically threw Thompson into a wall and gave him a concussion.”
---“And there I was thinking he was useless,” David half sighed, half chuckled.
---“Maybe we should put him on a leash, send him out anytime the heathens go over the top. Who knows, perhaps we might even tie Alex up with him if they get on so well. Make them our offensive force.”
---Suddenly David sat up straighter, his eyes widening and a panicked expression appearing on his face as he came to some realisation. “Alice!”
---“Is fine, David. She wasn’t in the house when they came in for me, and they weren’t exactly knocking doors down guns blazing. Or knocking doors down and attacking with chloroformed rags. Thanks again for that warning.”
---“You still holding that against me?”
---“No. I just want to make you feel guilty.”
---David was silent for a few seconds, glaring at Stephen. “Yeah, Liam is such a prick.”
---“I resent that comparison.”
---“Anyway,” David continued, despite Stephen having made clear the deep crater that his heart now carried as a result of his thoughtless comment, “I need to talk to everyone.”
---“Are you able to stand alright?”
---David threw his legs over the edge of the bed, pushing himself up. His hand went to his head once again as he almost fell, before quickly regaining his composure. “Apparently so.”

- - -

New York

David sat before Eve, Alex and Stephen, while Liam slouched on a couch off to the side, watching him suspiciously with his legs folded and arms crossed, attempting to appear dark and unconcerned. “I haven’t had any visions of the Marked of Necromancy. All the rest of you, apart from Liam who confronted me too quickly, I saw in visions so that I could find you. But never Necromancy. This had crossed my mind before, but I’d never given it too much thought, preferring to wait until one came along as it had for everyone else. Then, as the phone rang in Eve’s house I remembered the vision in which I’d first seen her, realising that I was sitting there as it was becoming a reality, and along with it another vision I’d had right before we were broken out of Crux’s cells. I had it while wondering where I’d be in the future, and I know that I glimpsed myself in it, and I figured that that was why it had happened, that I had inadvertently activated my power. So I tried to use it to find the last of us.”
---There was silence, everyone clearly hanging on David’s every word, awaiting what happened next, how he’d ended up writhing on Eve’s bedroom floor. Then Liam spoke up. “And?”
---“And I can’t remember. There are flashes, but none of them are connected, glimpses of premonitions. An aeroplane flying across the sky at night, Eve and a girl who was on fire, and... and...”
---“And what?” Eve asked, sounding slightly concerned as David’s hand went to his forehead and his eyes shifted out of focus.
---“I... I can’t remember. I’m not even sure there was anything else, actually, just flashes and this awful ringing, like static interference.”
---“I wonder,” Liam began, unfolding his legs and sitting up straight, “If this might be a result of Necromancy’s person being very likely in Ireland.”
---“The Cult lost contact with their base in Dublin,” Alex added. “And if what David was hearing was static interference, maybe there’s something blocking any kind of information getting out.”
---“The ferry and the mall were both empty,” Stephen put forward. “Like everyone had just disappeared.”
---“We need to get back to Ireland,” David said, standing up.
---“No, you don’t,” a man David didn’t recognise interrupted, standing nearby a door that must have led out into the complex. “It’s too dangerous.”
---“What’s happening there, Johnson?” Alex growled, getting up to face him.
---Johnson was quiet, gathering his thoughts. “We aren’t sure.”
---“The Marked weren’t on their own in that tomb,” Eve cut in as Alex seemed to be preparing himself to shock Johnson to an early grave. “Something else was locked in there with them.”
---Johnson sighed, looking down at her. “No point keeping secrets from a telepath. Yes, we believe that there may have been someone or something else in there, causing the problems in Ireland. There are some very intelligent people involved in our secret, if prospering, faith, and they speculate based on some lines in what recorded history we have of the Marked’s existence that there was an external force involved in their downfall, a force trapped alongside them. You aren’t going to Ireland, not until we can ascertain whether or not it’s safe for you.”
---“One of us is trapped there!” David hissed. “You expect us to just leave them?”
---“Yes,” Johnson replied. “Necromancy will be able to hold their own for the time being, until we find a way to get you there.”

- - -

6th August
2012
New York

Johnson knocked on Crux’s door, calmly waiting outside. Today was the day he finally left.

Crux was not an ideal choice for heading the Cult. Oh, he could be charming and charismatic when he felt the urge, but Johnson suspected this was all a matter of personal gain to him. He was constantly trying to one-up everyone else, trying to make England more important. They were already making enough valuable contributions that they’d overtaken America, although he knew that the Irish were just as suspicious of him as his own people were. But, as they say, one should never look a gift lion in the mouth, even one that looks set to come back to bite you regardless.

The albino opened the door, stepping out in his usual crisp white suit. It was a way of mocking everyone else, both by boasting his affluence and showing that his appearance wasn’t something he was embarrassed by, that it was something of pride for him, making it a meaningless weapon. He knew that Crux believed he was unintelligent, as he so often reminded him, but he knew more than the other man would like to think.
---“I suppose that this is where we part ways, then,” Johnson smiled emotionlessly, shaking Crux’s cold hand. He could see him wiping it off on the wall as he walked away, his suit obviously far too precious to be receiving of such a gesture of distaste. “And good riddance.”

- - -

New York

“Crux is gone,” Johnson began, addressing the group, gathered together (apart from Liam, sitting off to the side looking snide and superior and a little congested) like its own little family, the bonds between them having grown over the past few days of despising Liam with every atom of their beings. It was all rather sweet. “His plane took off half an hour ago, and we received confirmation that he was on board. He won’t be causing you any more trouble for now.”
---David nodded thoughtfully in response, demonstrating his maturity and leadership skills.
---“For now, I am providing you–” (while looking at David, likely based on his aforementioned demonstration of maturity and leadership skills) “–with a credit card and an emergency contact number. Something goes wrong, you can call us and we’ll be there.”
---“So basically you’re just kicking us out on our own?” Alex echoed, raising an eyebrow and earning an uncomfortable throat clearing soon to be followed by some bull as an explanation from Johnson.
---“We can’t just keep you here. You aren’t gods yet, you’re just growing into your powers, and we need to let you go out and do that on your own.” Stephen took a moment to hope in vain that Liam would be deemed ‘grown in’ by Johnson and as such be left behind. “It was a difficult decision to make, but we believe it’s the right one. Besides, our primary reason for keeping you here was to protect you from Crux, and that’s no longer a priority.”
---David nodded again, still doing his best to be mature and leading as he maturely led himself to the conclusion that he really just didn’t have a choice. “Okay.”
---Johnson smiled, relieved. “Wonderful.”
---Once he was out of the room, David looked back to the others. “You all do, of course, realise that we can’t go back to our homes now.”
---“They are kind of forbidding us to do so,” Stephen pointed out.
---“Not just us two. All of us. We go back to them, they’re in danger. Crux may be gone, but I have no doubt that he isn’t finished quite yet, and Thompson can’t be too far behind him. We can’t put the people close to us in danger, we can’t tell them anything. Phone your parents, make up awful excuses, do whatever you need to do, but do not tell them the truth, because if they know then they’re going to be in even more danger than they already are.”
---“Alice already knows,” Eve spoke up, adding something for the first time in quite a while. “I told her about my powers, and she knows about you and Stephen.”
---David was quiet for a few seconds, obviously thinking it over, although Stephen was a little suspicious of how quickly he came to a conclusion. “She can be a connection to the outside world. Telling us what’s going on. We aren’t going to hide ourselves away completely, but she’d be helpful to keep us up-to-date on anything important happening.”
---Eve bit her lower lip, seeming slightly uncomfortable with the proposal, and then sighed. “I suppose that could work.”

- - -

New York

Johnson was not an optimistic man. He did not often expect good news, and when it came he was always at least a little suspicious of it. But the positivity of this scrap of information was just good enough for him to be able to believe it was true.

A member of staff sent in to clean Crux’s room had come across a bloodied tissue lying behind the bin, as though it had just missed its mark. Thankfully, he took the initiative to get a pair of gloves before lifting it and presenting it to Johnson, and the results it had yielded were fantastic.
---Crux was sick.

In fact, not only was Crux sick, he was dying. Among members of the Council it was common knowledge that Crux had developed regenerative abilities at a young age (a fact which had helped him very much in securing power in England). If it weren’t, they would have tried to assassinate him a few more times by now after the first couple of attempts had failed. But it appeared that he had met his match when forced to wage war against his own body. There would be no way to operate upon him, no way to remove whatever tumorous growth was plaguing him. Crux was all but finished. And if he had been weakened, then there was a chance that he might not be quite up to the same standards in terms of his healing.

Johnson was not an optimistic man. But he was an opportunistic one, and he had seen his chance.

- - -

11th August
2012
New York

Eve would not have taken David for the spending spree type. In fairness, he wasn’t really, he’d just paid for hotel rooms and given her the card to go get new clothes for everyone (because that wasn’t sexist at all).
---Oh yeah, and he’d bought a car.
---Honestly, Eve had been very tempted to purchase the worst clothes she could see, but her kinder side had taken hold.
---Her kinder side would pay dearly when she was done lugging those bags around.

She couldn’t help but think about how much simpler things had been before all of this. It wasn’t even a month since her powers had first revealed themselves and already her world had been turned upside-down, and it was more than appropriate to say that she didn’t like it. She had liked her life. Sure, she had complained about it, but she liked it. She had Sam, she had Alice, she had her music and her parents and that was enough for her. She felt secure, she felt safe. That wasn’t something most teenagers could say for themselves.
---And then this had happened. Everything was wrong now, she was barely holding on. Well, David wasn’t taking everything from her – not quite yet.
---She’d bought herself a phone. Nothing too fancy, just something very plain and very simple with just enough credit on it. She’d already texted Sam to say that she’d changed her number.

Eve slowed down, coming to a stop as she felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, cautiously turning her head to look behind her. There was a man, across the mall, and he was just standing there and looking at her, his eyes boring into her. He was lean, fairly tall, with a slender face and sharp features, his skin pale and his hair dark, although even at this distance Eve could see the threads of silver set amongst it, just as in his meticulously crafted facial hair. But despite all this she was drawn back to his eyes, those emerald eyes, shining with an unnatural brightness as they met hers for a fraction of a second and his thin lips were pulled into a smirk. Eve glanced down suddenly as her phone began ringing, but once she grabbed it and looked up he was gone again, as though melted into the crowd. With a sigh, she looked at the screen. Alice.
---“Hello?” she began, picking it up.
---“Hello,” a smug voice answered in a thick Irish accent, and Eve froze.
---“What do you want, Liam?” she replied, her voice shaking. Her heart was beating far faster than it should, pressing itself up against her rib cage, each beat reverberating through her body with a force she wouldn’t know the organ had if it hadn’t been exercising it so often recently.
---“I have your friend here,” Liam taunted from the other end of the line.
---“How did you find her?”
---“Does it matter?” Liam sighed exasperatedly. “The point here is that I have her. And if you want her to live, you’re going to have to do exactly as I say...”

- - -

The warehouse was dilapidated and dimly-lit, and Liam stood at its centre with Alice floating some distance off the ground, bound in rope. “I assume you realise why you’re here.”
---“Let her go, Liam,” Eve hissed, glaring at the sixteen-year-old. Liam simply laughed and shook his head.
---“When are you going to realise? We’re not like them. We’re something more. Something better. We are gods, Eve, and yet the rest of you insist on being like everyone else,” Liam spat. Eve could feel the anger and resentment pouring off of him, setting her on edge. “Well, I’m tired of trying to work around this. I’m an opportunist by nature, Eve, so now I’m just going to take advantage of it. I can hurt the people you care about and no one can do a thing to stop me. You hold no such power over me.”
---“Liam, just take a moment to think rationally about what you’re doing,” Eve argued. “You don’t want to kill anyone.”
---“Before Crux brought me in, I was about to overturn a train full of passengers.”
---“Fine. But do you really want to risk the anger of the other Marked?”
---“I don’t have to, Eve,” Liam grinned. “Once you accept who you are, even if you’re forced to, you’ll come to realise that you really are something more.”
---“You’re sick.”
---“I’m practical. I make practical decisions, for the greater good.” Liam looked away from Eve, turning his attention to something behind her and she glanced back herself, noticing that Alex was lounging in the doorway. “You can step forward any time.”
---Alex nodded, began walking towards him, stopping next to Eve. “Let Alice go.”
---Liam shook his head, frowning. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
---“Neither of us wants a fight. The others won’t be much longer getting here. David saw what was going to happen.”
---Snarling, Liam launched himself at Alex, letting Alice fall to the ground. Eve ran in, just managing to catch her friend and prevent her from doing any damage to herself before setting herself to work on undoing the rope.

- - -

New York

Alex dived out of the way as Liam launched himself at him, propelled by telekinesis. He saw Eve running in to catch Alice – obviously he’d given up on keeping her afloat, instead focusing his attention on Alex. And that suited him just fine.
---He turned himself to face Liam, now hovering just above the ground, his eyes glowing green. Alex’s own eyes lit up as blue light crackled around his hands, his hair standing on edge as he felt the power rushing through him. It wasn’t the boring situation in the lab, or the desperate attempt to hold Thompson off. It was the same sensation from when he attacked Ryan and his little band, and it was wonderful. Inside, he cursed himself for admitting it, but there would be a time for feeling guilty later. Right now, what mattered was the feeling, that glorious feeling. Liam allowed himself to drop to the ground and began running at him, and electricity lanced out at him from the palm of Alex’s hand before he even knew what he was doing, missing Liam by a hair’s breadth. The power was reflexive, lodged in instinct. Alex could let himself go when he was using it.
---He shook his head, blinking. No. He wouldn’t give in to the power. As good as it felt, he knew that that was just another sign of its danger. Like most other things set to destroy, it was addictive. Liam took advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration to fling some piece of debris lying on the ground at him, but another bolt of electricity and it was obliterated instantly. Alex began walking toward him, flinging electricity at the ground around Liam to stop him from running away, sneering. In the background, he noted that Eve had freed Alice, and was now standing, looking at him. Liam threw himself into the air again, flying toward Alex, and he pulled back into a defensive position he wasn’t even aware he knew. Then suddenly Liam was veering off course, headed towards Alice and Eve, and Alex swore, running to intercept him. Liam crashed into him and they both fell to the ground, Liam’s hands around his throat, trying to crush his windpipe.
---“I don’t want to kill you,” Liam explained. “Do you understand that? You’re going to nod, I’m going to get up off of you and then you’re going to give up.”
---Alex brought his knee up into the other boy’s groin and he cried out, his grip loosening as Alex headbutted him and he fell back, swearing. His nose was bleeding when he stood again, stumbling toward him and growling. Alex picked himself up and ran at him, but he collided with some invisible barrier that Liam must have set up. Where the ##### were the others?
---“I knew I shouldn’t have afforded you mercy,” Liam muttered, still making his way closer to Alex. Just a few more seconds... “I should have realised you weren’t going to listen. Now, who do I have to threaten to make you complicit?”
---“Go to #####,” Alex smiled, grabbing Liam’s ankle and pumping electricity into him, the Marked of Telekinesis’ body going rigid as he felt the shock before Alex let go and allowed him to fall to the ground, unconscious. David and Stephen burst in just in time for Alex to get up, the light in his eyes fading as he made his way towards them. “Could’ve done with a little bit of help there.”
---“You handled it,” David said, walking past Alex without a second glance, focusing his attention on making sure Eve and – more importantly – Alice were okay. Alex disregarded it, making his way to the door where Stephen was still standing, looking fairly unperturbed by the whole ordeal.
---“You look a tad ruffled,” Stephen noted, looking him over.
---“You should’ve seen the other guy,” Alex sighed, looking over to David, who was helping Eve to walk Alice over. “What do you suggest we do with Liam?”
---David glanced down at where the sixteen-year-old was lying on the ground, glaring contemptfully at him. “Leave him. He’s not worth the effort that carrying him would entail.”

- - -

12th August
2012
Somewhere in North America

Liam opened his eyes slowly to the blinding light glaring into his face, blinking a few times as he tried to bring the world around him into focus. It was a heavy contrast, everything around him almost entirely in darkness, only that one source of illumination shining down on it. However, it was quickly turned out of his face and his eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly, everything around him suddenly much more distinguishable. The room he was in was small and dirty, and he was strapped down to a metal chair. There were people in scientist’s coats standing around him, some simply looking and others frantically scribbling into notepads. And standing out from all of them was a man in a white suit with his arms folded behind his back.
---“I hope you’re comfortable, Liam,” Crux began, taking a step forward into the pool of light given by the lamp that had been over the Marked of Telekinesis. “Because you’re going to be with us for some time.”
---Liam tried to cry out as a man stepped forward and jabbed a needle into his arm, but he found himself entirely drained of energy, his tongue lolling uselessly in his mouth so that all that came out was a small whimper as he watched his blood beginning to rise up into the cylinder.

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Edited by Sam Tyler

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