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Dreams, Zedd never really liked those.

Zedd stood infront of a man, a knife in his hand. He felt blood dripping down his arm, but he held his ground. The man's face was a shadow, his hair in a quiff. He walked towards Zedd, his stride was menacing. Zedd jumped back out of instinct before the blow came, but as soon as he jumped back he felt something pierce his back right through. He looked down slowly to find a sword, drenched with his blood pierced right through his chest. He heard the man's laugh echo, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Finally the pain was too much and soon he closed his eyes and let the darkness envelope him.

~

Zedd woke up in a puddle of sweat early the next morning.

His body ached and his eyes stung from the tears he'd cried. He's never had a dream so life like, so real. He sat up, and put his head in his hands. He was shaken. He was scared of leaving the comfort of his home. He put one hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It was rapid from the adrenaline.

He stood up and walked towards his mirror, his clock read 4:30am. He saw a broken figure in the mirror shaking at the sight of him. His eyes were wide and his hair was damp, sticking to the top of his head. He felt a surge of anger and throw his fist at the face of the face in the mirror leaving an intricate pattern of cracks on it.

He felt the sting in his knuckles but dismissed it. He looked at his faceless image in the mirror, feeling only slightly satisfied with himself before heading to the bathroom to clean himself up.

In the shower, his eyes were trained on the wall ahead of him. He traced the lines between the tiles to distract his mind, using his imagination and making a blueprint of the heist. He imagined his entrance swift and sure and his exit fast and uncertain. The way he was used to, a way that was familiar.

Teagan Incorporated was the largest and the most secure building in Label. Something Zedd always looked forward to.
There wasn't really anything to steal there. Zedd knew that.
All he wanted was a way to cripple the Sensors. The only way to do that was to take out the head. Lance Teagan.

He knew that the man lived in the building with his fiancé and worked in the head office on the tenth floor. He planned on causing a distraction while he rooted out Teagan. He knew he'd need help, but decided to call them on sight.

It was only 5 o'clock in the morning when he stepped out of his apartment building. He wanted some fresh air to calm his nerves. He knew it wouldn't be easy and could be full of flaws. But he needed the distraction.

~

Lance couldn't sleep.

He looked out of the floor to ceiling windows in his apartment and watched as the sun rised from the horizon. His heart was beating fast the events of his dream still replaying in his head. He shrugged it off before he took another sip of his coffee, savouring the bitter taste in his mouth.

He closed his eyes and there he was again, the man. He could still feel the sword pressing against him neck while the shadow infront of him sat, his arms folded across his chest.

'Kill him.'

The voice was a whisper, straight out of a horror movie and then he heard a sickening slash. After a long agonising minute the body fell, right infront of the chair he was bound in. The body was a man, a sword sticking out from his back. His face was blurred.

Lance felt a horrible stab of pain, tears rolling out of his eyes. This person meant something to him like a missing piece of a puzzle.

He woke up to the sound of his own screaming.

That whole morning he thought of the man, he couldn't place him in his life. All he knew was that dream didn't feel like a dream, it was more like a memory of something he'd been made to forget. He'd been having dreams like this for quite sometime.

The first one was the most terrifying. He sat on a bed, in a room he didn't recognise. A man sat infront of him, his head buried in a sketch book, deep in concentration. After a minute, he looked up and straight into Lance's eyes and have him a small smile. His eyes were hazel, his skin tan. A scar ran along his neck. Lance ran his finger along it, the scar seemed to fascinate him.

But as soon as he touched it, blood oozed from it like it was still an open wound. He stopped and looked at the man with wide eyes. He just smirked.

That's when Lance woke up, struggling for breath.

~~

It had been hours since both men slept, a full working day in progress. Lance sat in his office and Zedd in his car. Both had things to do that day, one productive, the other disruptive.

But both had one thing in common, their visions. To Zedd one, to Lance ten. They don't know it yet, but their paths were about to cross way before Zedd intended.