[A/N]: METAHUMAN: someone with abilities outside the human norm. there are different versions of "metahumans" in literature. the kind used in this is most similar to the Marvel usage, most commonly referred to as mutants and the most popular example being the "X-Men." metahumans and their abilities vary greatly and can look completely normal or completely otherworldly. in this story metahumans are often kidnapped and their cells are used for illegal purposes. no one knows what created the metahumans.

THE CITY: the city doesn't have a proper name. it is a multi-tiered city, the lowest levels being underground where the inhabitants never see more than artificial light. buildings are modern, and each level functions as an average city. the city's highest level is the richest level, each level getting 'poorer' as you go down. the city's structure goes into the clouds and well underground. it is completely possibly to travel between tiers, but it is less common in the lowest levels.


He darted down the sullen alleyways of the lower city. The boy came around a sharp curve, feet skidding as he pivoted his body, hand bracing against the ground to make up for the lack of balance. Quickly, he righted himself and bolted down the pathway. His heart raced as he glanced behind him, he couldn't spot the pursuer but he knew that the man was still chasing after him.

The boy shoved locks of pale hair from his vision, he could spot the dead end coming up in the distance and immediately turned down the nearest pathway. A loud screech forced its way out of his throat as he spotted the man waiting for him at the exit of the alley. The amount of momentum the boy possessed when he attempted to stop himself had him tumbling forward, landing on his stomach in front of the man.

With a groan, he picked himself up just enough to sit on his rear, legs bent in front of him. For just a moment the sense of danger disappeared as he gingerly rubbed at his scraped chin— until he cause the artificial light of the underground layer reflecting off of the blade pointed at his face. There was a shark intake of breath as he stared at the sword, for a moment in disbelief that it was even there. When he glanced up at the man, he lifted his hands in a show of innocence.

The boy didn't even know the reason he'd been chased. He'd simply been on his way home, hands full with grocery bags when that blade had appeared in his face. He had immediately bolted, of course, and now they were in this particular situation.

Now that the boy was able to look at his pursuer, he couldn't help but think that the swordsman was actually quite good looking. Long dark hair that reminded him of expensive silk and those deep, deep, blue eyes full of— well, at this moment, vicious animosity. He stared in awe at the Asian man until the glare deepened and a shiver went down his spine.

"Uhm," He licked his lips, his mouth had gone impossibly dry; but he attempted to swallow the lump of panic in his throat. "Might I ask why you're attempting to kill me?"

There could have been numerous reasons, he realized. So many possibilities and, of course, none of the favourable. He figured it wasn't a mugging, too much work to chase him down and this was definitely not a tier where you'd expect to find someone with enough money to make the effort. Probably not a kidnapping— again, not enough money in this tier for a ransom and the boy looked useless anyway. Unless it was for those circumstances, but the man looked well enough off to be able to handle that easily enough.

Which left the least favourable option.

His appearance was a dead giveaway that he was't normal. White hair, pale eyes, and that deep red marking along his eye. He cursed his appearance often. After all, some metahumans looked completely normal.

Then again, some also resembled apes, so he supposed he shouldn't complain.

The marking on his eye was something all metahumans had; or some form of marking. A sign they were given when their status was discovered [mostly at birth or early childhood] to show what they were. Some weren't visible to the naked eye, some where— it all depended on the medical facility.

Not that having the marking elsewhere would have hidden the rest of his differences, but he could hope.

He was well aware that metahumans in the lower tier, especially visible ones, were worse off. Metahumans just like him, ones that wouldn't be missed, who could be easily hauled off to have their cells used for God only knew.

How would he escape if that was the purpose? He scrambled to find words, because the man wasn't speaking— simply glaring at him and pointing the sword at his nose.

"Uhm," He began cautiously. "Is.. well, is, uhm, this because I am a— well, meta? I-if that's so, then—"

"Tch."

The boy blinked, words falling silent. The other had made a noise, right? He'd scoffed. What did that imply? A small swell of panic rose in his gut— God, what did he do? He'd never actually thought of the possibility of this situation.

"Haven't you ever seen a fucking guard before, dumbass?" The Asian male asked, his tone condescending. "I'm not some fucking criminal going to haul you off, Jesus Christ."

"Uhm—" He bit his tongue. A guard, right. That was probably why the man was dressed in a pristine and definitely expensive black and red uniform. He felt ridiculously stupid— but he had not, in fact, ever actually seen a guard. They often neglected the parts of the city he lived in. "No, I haven't."

His pursuer gave him a look— one that definitely questioned his intelligence. The boy felt a big irritated by that, it wasn't his fault the guards didn't give enough of a fuck about the lower tiers to patrol properly. Half the time the boy forgot they existed until he heard someone talking about them.

"If you're a guard then why were you chasing after me?" He asked, "Last I heard they only went after criminals. I highly doubt it was some hideous offense to go buy groceries— which, by the way, I dropped because you were waving that blasted sword in my face." The memory of his groceries sort of rose his irritation, he'd bought quite a big and now it was probably being crushed by pedestrians off in the middle of the tier. He was hungry, goddamnit. Not to mention the fucking sword was still in his face and he was really getting sick of it. "Speaking of your blade, I would ask that you kindly remove it. Who just goes around shoving weapons in other peoples' faces?"

The guard grit his teeth, not even bothering to go through with the pale-haired male's request to lower his weapon. "A short, white-haired meta was seen causing shit in the upper levels not too long ago." He hissed, "The guards in the immediate area chased him until he disappeared into the lower levels."

"So you simply assumed it was me and decided to attack on sight?" What kind of bullshit was that. Didn't you have to at least accuse them verbally and allow the person to defend their case before you started in on trying to kill them? "I've never even been on the upper tiers before, nor have I ever committed a crime."

"Fleeing from a guard is a fucking crime, Moyashi."

"You were waving a sword in my face!" The boy hissed. Wait— what in the hell did he call him? It had to have been in another language, for the boy had no idea what it meant. "My name is Allen Walker, don't just go making up things to call me that I can't even understand."

The male clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, withdrawing his blade and sheathing it. The metahuman let out a quiet sigh of relief until he felt a tight grip on his arm, tugging him to his feet and out of the alley.

He attempted to rip his arm away, but the guard's grip was stronger than he and he hissed. "If you would have just said to follow you I would have now let my arm go."

"Just shut the fuck up, brat." The guard said with an irritated huff, "Your voice is starting to give me a fucking headache."


[A/N] I apologize greatly for sudden disappearances. I got hit in the face with a great deal of medical problems. I hurt my hands and was unable to write or use a keyboard for a good week or two. I began to have severe back pain which grew worse and worse over time. After going to see a doctor, I was told the cause of the pain was scoliosis; my spine is curved towards the right at my heart area and I need to undergo physical therapy to fix it. And then lastly, I fell ill the past week or so. I'm working on fics as we speak, this one was just a sort of apology.

I don't know if I'm going to go anywhere with this AU though I do quite enjoy it, we will see.