《The Exiled Prince》Chapter 2: A Stranger's Face

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Peace and quiet turned into pandemonium, the entire city in shambles. The once peaceful neighborhood became the center of attention. Various vehicles gradually filled the once tranquil streets surrounding Central Square. High-pitched sirens kept on wailing at a distance as more ambulances and police cars gathered around the area.

Policemen crammed every nook and cranny, trying to collect and find more evidence while fending off any curious bystander at the same time.

Crowds of shoppers already scattered inside the complex huddled towards the remaining open spaces, scrutinizing every detail of the ongoing investigation. Some even dared to record the commotion unfolding right before their very eyes. After all, crime scenes rarely happen in this part of town.

All television networks broadcasted this incident live. The whole city witnessed one of the most violent crimes ever committed in decades. Most residents anxiously watched, fearing mainly for their lives.

The lone perpetrator had yet to be captured. This fact caused most residents to feel extremely uneasy with going through their daily routines. After all, the crime occurred in the very city where they lived.

The young man, meanwhile, ran without stopping. He dashed from one street to the next discreetly, unaware of the mess caused by his previous actions still beyond the grasp of his memory. He easily hopped from one low-rise building to the next, nimble enough to climb over some walls, effectively dodging populated alleyways and surveillance cameras along the way.

His audacity and resolve to remain at the crime scene had been short lived. At the verge of surrender, everything seemed to fall into place, apparently according to some subconscious plan. A barrage of memory fragments urging him to flee flooded his mind, momentarily enlightening his once clueless self.

In an instant, he knew the way out exactly, following the escape route etched deeply in his subconscious pronto. It felt as though he had been through the same routine a hundred times. As to why it felt that way, he didn’t know. He simply knew.

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***

The young man finally arrived at the roofdeck of an old five-story residential apartment building nine blocks from Central Square. He rushed to the corner room and instinctively found the secret compartment. He immediately noticed the compartment’s cleverly concealed location. The dilapidated walls completely blocked the view from any prying eyes.

This run-down structure appeared to be just one of the two rendezvous points selected for his getaway plan. He had seen all these in his quick memory epiphany. This confirmed his suspicion that this whole fiasco must have been premeditated.

Inside the secret compartment, he found a box that contained a business suit, a dark brown vintage leather briefcase, a pair of chelsea boots, and a white warm down coat neatly packed in individual ziplock plastic bags. In the briefcase, he saw cash, several identification cards, and a car key.

Without delay, the young man started undressing. He took off his black faux fur trim down parka, jeans and winter boots then quickly put on the business suit.

The young man peeled the synthetic mask off his face, revealing another strange yet perfectly symmetrical face in the small mirror. He knew that the unfamiliar face broadcasted in all of those adverts could not be his own. He could not help seeing his previous face as he navigated through all those camera blindspots just to get to his current location.

Despite his curiosity, he had to continue changing how he looked as much as he could. He didn’t have that much time to think things through. At the back of his mind, he had to hurry. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to make it to his next stop in time.

He stuffed everything in separate trash bags and carried them one floor below. Down the building’s garbage chute went the bags of discarded synthetic materials, leftover makeup, and blood stained clothes. Leave no trace, he remembered.

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Pretending like he actually lived there, the young man, in his new disguise, took the elevator down and casually left the building. He walked towards the nearest coffee shop and innocently grabbed a cup of coffee. Then, he proceeded towards the nearest subway station and bought a one-way express ticket out of the city.

***

“The next station is King’s Cross!” The remaining commuters heard a gentle female voice notifying them of the next stop.

Only one man glanced at the screen in front of the cabin, comparing the actual time and the bullet train’s estimated time of arrival. The rest of the commuters, mostly preoccupied with their smartphones, watched the ongoing news in Central Square.

'I should arrive on time!' The ordinary-looking business executive sighed with relief as he sat alone in the last row. He had chosen this seat to keep his distance from the rest of the commuters.

Despite his extreme curiosity over the horrendous crime that he had just committed, he had no way of checking the news since he didn’t have any gadgets with him. He made a mental note to buy one after reaching his final destination. Another item added to his already long to-do list: from finding more clues about this place to more importantly, any information about himself.

'Who am I exactly?' He quietly asked himself with a hint of despair and frustration, finding his current plight rather strange. 'Why did I kill that guy? Why am I compelled to run? Why do I have these unique sets of skills?' He reflected on these and other related questions over and over throughout this uneventful train ride.

The ever changing yet beautiful white landscape along the way didn’t help at all. In fact, his sense of familiarity coupled with his lack of recollection of such places confused him even more.

Despite sifting through all of his memories, the young man could only remember up to the point when he first saw that pale-looking woman. Anything beyond that remained a complete mystery to him.

Before he could contemplate even further, the bullet train started to slow down while approaching an underground tunnel. The vast yet modestly quaint cityscape view loomed on the horizon.

“You’ve arrived at the King’s Cross Station.” A few minutes later, the train came to a full stop. “Welcome to Paragon!”

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