phoenixhyperion

**READ ME**

THIS BOOK WILL BE UNDER REVISION.

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My name? Lance Augustus
Age? 15
Nickname? Five. 
Why they call me that? Because the mark tells us so. 
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"Don't be stupid, steer out of trouble, and whatever happens, stay alive." 

I really don't know why Dad always repeat those words to me everyday. I take heed of his words. Play by his rules, never dared to go against him except if it's extremely necessary.

He's all that I need to get by. Our life was ordinary. Everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal, just an everyday routine we get used to live. But then this guy calling himself 'The Seeker' came... And he start making a mess out of my life. 

He said I have powers. - Who believe that crap?
He said I have extraordinary abilities. - Cool! I want to be Superman.
He said I was chosen. - Who? The god of newbie bullies? 
The mark of five imprinted deep into my skin proves that I am one of the TWELVE. - You sure it's not a tattoo? I firmly believe it's a tattoo. 

I never believe him. I drove him out. I did not listen. I wish I did. Maybe he could have help me. Maybe he could have save me from the trouble of falling right into their trap. I know nothing. Because of my stubbornness I lost everything. So now I'm all alone. But she stretch her hand to me. She gave me hope. She invited me to come. And I did. 

So our search began. For the remaining TEN.
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They called me FIVE

The sun is setting behind us when we decide to explore the city and look for possible place to sleep. Sam was forcedly awaken from his slumber. Alpha Beast woke up from the noise. Seven slept the whole ordeal.

We told Sam and Alpha Beast what we discussed. And what is the real identity of Seven. We thought Alpha Beast has something to say. Turns out he's as shell shocked as we are. We're walking into the deep woods of suburban area. Turns out the city is not as glamorous as I presumed it would be.

When we reach a riverbank at the end of these woods, we turn our backs and went on another direction.  Magnus is on his condition today. He kept talking along the way. Not minding the muddy ground, or the trashes littered by campers who frequent this place.

"Did you know why the Faeries and the Gifted people are enemies?" He asked, assuming that long snout smug expression of his. Telling us, 'Come on, what are you waiting for? Ask me.'

Possibility