"About time." Baekhyun arched his eyebrows after glancing at his über-cool watch, a metal contraption that ran from his wrist to his elbow. It projected the time—and a few other statistics, only some of which would be recognizable by the layman—as a holograph just above his forearm. Mark eyed it hungrily as Baekhyun jerked his wrist inwards in a rotating motion, and the open lid flipped back into place.

Taemin smiled thinly, not fully looking at his orange-haired partner in justice. "I've been waiting outside for some time now, actually, running through some details I might have forgotten to mention. I doubt any of it posed problems, though, judging by their reactions—and, of course, by the extensive research we performed on their backgrounds."

A raven-haired man, who Mark recognized from Baekhyun's file as Ten, half-raised his hand, looking bemused and slightly afraid for his life. "Do we have a choice?"

Baekhyun made an amused sound at the back of his throat. "Hypothetically, yes."

"Anyway, we should be commencing the introductory presentation in a few minutes' time," the blonde millionaire said. "After the last member of the team decides to make an appearance."

Mark frowned, eyes skimming over the young men present. Baekhyun and Taemin, of course, and then there were Ten, Lucas, and Kai. Wait, that was just five—oh right, he had forgotten to include himself.

Sure enough, there was a noticeable lack of Taeyong.

Mark voiced his confusion, and Lucas's lips lifted fractionally in an expression of humor. "Taeyong," Taemin said, with barely a trace of emotion in his voice, "should be joining us about...now."

Right on cue, the huge double doors opened, and a blue-haired male staggered in.

Mark stared in amazement as Taeyong fell through, almost literally, bending over and resting his hands on his knees. His face was reddened, closely resembling a tomato, and his chest rose and fell like tall waves in the ocean. He could almost hear the heavy breathing from where he was standing. Taeyong had an oddly intense emotion in his eyes, like he was going to strangle someone, and Mark got the feeling that he needed to get out of the line of fire.

"Taeyong—" Baekhyun began.

Taeyong raised a firm hand, shaking his head and breathing harder, signalling to him that he needed a moment. Every pair of eyes in the room was trained on him as he finally straightened, the line of his body almost quivering with emotion.

"I think," he said, voice breathy and heavy and barely audible, "I'm gonna sit."

Upon saying this, he promptly threw up.

Ten's face twisted into an expression of utter disgust, and he shielded his eyes. Taeyong, wincing and stumbling away from the yellow-green looking slush and sat down on the floor itself, crossing his legs and holding his face in his hands.

"Ate bad burger," he breathed. "Muscles work hard. Puke."

"Yes, puke," Kai said sympathetically.

"Why would you climb up, like, twenty flights of stairs?" Mark asked softly, looking at the older male with a creased brow. "That's insane."

Taeyong glared up at him, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth. "Taemin offered to climb up with me."

"Not to be a mom, but if Taemin jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?"

The man glowered even harder, if that was possible. Mark knew he should have been intimidated by him, especially after knowing that he had superpowers and possibly had the ability to grind him to fine dust, but he couldn't bring himself to take seriously a person who climbed up stairs and puked afterwards.

"I didn't know there were twenty flights!" Taeyong exclaimed, gesticulating passionately. "I thought if Taemin could climb up, there wouldn't be a lot of floors. How was I supposed to know that he had super-speed?"

Taemin raised his hand, and conversation came to a standstill. The others, who had been watching the exchange with interest, now turned their attention to him, albeit reluctantly. Taeyong, still sitting on the floor, leaned his elbows against his knees and turned his accusing eyes towards the blond.

"Without wasting any more time, let us proceed to the actual details of the project." Taemin glanced at the spill of bile in the corner with a slightly raised eyebrow, then cleared his throat. "Baekhyun will be walking you through the initial plan, and after you have acquainted yourselves with the objectives, we will move on to the starting pack." He stepped a little away from the group, standing before them in the manner of a teacher instructing his class on a field trip. "Any questions?"

"That dude said you had super-speed," Kai said. "Is that normal?"

"No," Taemin said. "Any other queries?"

"Wait. Do I have superpowers?"

"Yes," Taemin replied neutrally, but his eyes had narrowed microscopically, and Mark could tell the boy was getting on his nerves.

Kai looked stunned, blinking slowly, his mouth half-open. "I have superpowers?" he whispered to himself. "No one told me."

On his spot on the floor, Taeyong rolled his eyes.

"Are we allowed to leave in the middle of the project?" This time, it was Ten who had raised the question, conflicting emotions flitting across his elfin face. "At any point?"

"Yes, any member is permitted to quit at any point of the project, even during emergencies," Taemin said, as calmly as he could, though Mark could tell he was just itching to move on to the important stuff.

"Emergencies?" Ten echoed, looking disgruntled. He was ignored.

Baekhyun stepped away from the group to join Taemin's side, turning on his heel to face the group. He looked less like an engineer than a trained agent, with his perfect posture—feet planted apart for balance, one slightly behind the other, shoulders broad and pulled back.

"From today, we will begin with your physical training," he said. "I have your performance levels here—" he gestured to his cool watch— "and though there are some of you who are in great condition, some need a teensy bit more work." He glanced not-so-discreetly at Taeyong, who was still sitting. "You will be assigned exercises according to your capability, and will be tested and switched at the end of every week."

"Do we still get to eat fast food?" Mark asked.

"Yup. As long as you don't puke."

"Hilarious," Taeyong muttered.

A tiny smile traced Baekhyun's lips. "Of course, this is all top-secret," he said. "What we're doing is not entirely legal, admittedly, but you can't blab on us. Even if you quit, you'll be monitored to some extent. If required, we have the ability to wipe your memories."

The group had become considerably quieter, the emotions on their faces varying from excited to vaguely constipated. Lucas looked just fine with all of the information—which wasn't surprising, considering his military history. Ten, on the other hand, looked like he was pooping in a public washroom and had just realized that there was no toilet paper.

Taemin cleared his throat again, glancing at Baekhyun warningly. "As you all know, this project exists only and only in order to eradicate all crime in the city," he said. "Which means that none of you will be using your powers or gadgets in everyday life, if it has large-scale consequences.

"The project will begin on a step-by-step basis, which means that we will take down these gangs from the roots. The minor criminals will be removed first—and we will leave every single one of them in police custody—and then, we will move on to the, ah, big fish." He smiled thinly, and Mark got the feeling that he was enjoying this more than anyone. "You will be divided into teams initially, which will be rotated occasionally according to strategy. Later, you will be consolidated."

"Like video game levels?" The question burst from Mark's mouth before he could stop it, and everyone's attention turned to him. Mark blushed, and gestured vaguely with his hands. "You know, where you take down the small-time bad guys and then, like, the boss? No?"

There was a momentary silence.

Taeyong turned away from him, focusing his attention on Taemin. "Do we get paid?"

Baekhyun arched his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. Taemin's eyes betrayed nothing about his emotions. "You will he provided with all that you need, and if money is what you need, then yes."

"A straight answer would have sufficed."

Mark felt his palms sweat, the way they did when he was extremely excited or nervous. He quickly wiped them on the sides of his jeans, still feeling like he was in a dream, and wishing that he wouldn't have to wake up.

For him, this was a dream come true. The fact that this operation was dangerous and possibly fatal might have scared the others, but for Mark, it was only another reason to look forward to it. It gave him a good idea of how important this job was going to be—and though he didn't know his teammates very well, he didn't dislike them, and he was pretty sure that they didn't hate him, at least. Except maybe Taeyong. But that was okay, since Taeyong seemed like he hated everything that breathed and walked.

"So, when do we start?" It was the first thing Lucas had said since the mini briefing had begun, and Mark looked at him in surprise. Despite Lucas's cool-as-a-cucumber façade, there was thinly veiled eagerness in his voice. Mark almost smiled.

Taemin's lips twitched in amusement. "Tomorrow."

|

i haven't updated my other work in so long, but tbh i've just been feeling so demotivated these days it's almost impossible. i know none of y'all wanna hear depressing stuff, especially after all that happened this month, but i just can't help it.

i'm so sad, guys. i miss wonho and i miss woojin and i miss hwall and i miss sulli and i miss being able to write. everything kind of sucks at the moment, but super is probably the only reason i still have evn the smallest amount of faith in my writing, so i'm here. i might not update my other books for a while. i tried, i really did, but i just can't.

even if you don't stan any of these four, but if you feel not like yourself for any reason, please do talk to someone. talk to me if you can't find anyone to talk to, or if you'd rather it were me. i don't want anyone else to feel like this, bc it's a sucky feeling, and i want you guys to be sad but in a happy way (i make sense). everyone's allowed to mourn.

i'm here for you.

love,
Manx.