nineteen ateez-four (ateez au)

two

1981

"Good morning, boys." The man says roughly. Pacing left and right in front of the line of eight, some petrified, some excited, some confused, young boys. He scrutinises them with his narrow, judging eyes, mentally picking them apart like a vulture snapping up its prey.

"As of today, you are part of ATEEZ," he continues, coming to a halt in front of them and snapping his heels together so tightly it makes the shortest boy jump in shock. "A programme designed to make you stronger, to enhance your natural talents and put them to use in ways beyond your wildest dreams."

The tallest boy, a scrawny, lanky thing with an unruly cloud of crimson hair raises his hand enthusiastically.

The man rolls his eyes, ignores the boy, and carries on.

"In the coming weeks, months, and years, you will be pushed to your limits. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, this programme will allow you to do the unexpected, become the unexpected and experience power like you've never experienced it before."

He glances over all the boys, smirking as he notes the way all eight pairs of eyes are sparkling at him in admiration, awe, and excitement. Deep down the man knows that they'll come to regret joining the programme. They'll resent the people they become, and hate themselves for the things they do.

But isn't that just life?

He hazards a guess at their ages, estimating that the youngest must be around 16, and the oldest 19 at a push. Such young lives, with such promising potential. He grins.

"Let's start with introductions, shall we?" He claps his hands together sharply, looking over the teenagers before stopping on the tall red-head. "Why don't you start us off?"

The boy's eyes widen in shock at being picked on so suddenly, but his face soon beams brightly as he turns to the other boys.

"I'm Mingi," he smiles. "I'm 18."

"Hello, Mingi." The man smiles back, but unlike Mingi's, his smile is not full of innocent, childish joy. It screams a mysterious unknown, that the oldest boy is becoming very wary of. "You see this table behind me, Mingi?" The man motions to a long table, on which is placed eight cylinders, each with a unique, intricately designed top.

Mingi nods.

"These," the man turns his head to address all the boys who watch him with undivided attention, "are called Vigors. Drinkable enhancements which allow you to fully embrace your hidden potential. Each of these bottles contains a completely unique vigor. I will allow you to choose your bottle now, and at the end of your first training review, should you pass, you will be allowed to drink your vigor."

"Are they dangerous?" a short, strikingly blonde boy pipes up.

"No..." The man trails off.

"Wooyoung." The boy offers his name.

"No, Wooyoung. The vigors are not dangerous to you."

"But what about other peo-" a black-haired boy, tall and with soft eyes is interrupted.

"Now come along, Mingi!" The man exclaims cheerfully. "Which vigor tickles your fancy?"

Mingi spends his time carefully examining the bottles. He picks a few of them up, surprised at their sheer size and weight. He rolls them about in his palms, narrowing his vision at them and even smelling about the seals.

Eventually, Mingi settles on a bottle with an arguably concerning design; the entire lid is a sculpted, female devil, blowing scorching hot flames into the palm of her outstreched hand. Her tail, angrily pointed, flicks down the side of the metal flask. Finally, in the middle of the bottle is a round, engraved seal, depicting a red-faced devil grinning fiendishly.