It had been three years since the accident, the one that had left David hovering between life and death. He knew he was a survivor.
David had recently turned eighteen. He was a handsome young man of average height with a simple sense of style. He had started working at a bank and had a girlfriend he'd been with since high school. However, he had a major problem: her father. Being from a noble family, the man saw David as entirely unworthy of his daughter.
David was half-British and had lived in England since he was twelve. He was one of the average people of this earth, the kind of face you see dozens of versions of when you visit a town. He had lived a normal life, and he intended for it to stay that way.
"I told you, this is an order from the higher-ups. We have no choice here."
David stretched his neck to see what was happening. A blonde police officer was talking to someone who appeared to be her colleague.
"Apparently... that gold isn't just any gold. It's something important..."
David stopped listening. Police, talk of "higher-ups," lost gold that was more than just metal. He knew exactly what they were talking about. Twelve years ago, shortly after the Big Crisis, the government had entrusted the bank where he worked with several valuable objects for protection, transforming it from a standard bank into a high-security vault.
Recently, David had heard from a co-worker that some gold from that account had been stolen, the first theft in twelve years. Being the "normal man" he was, David decided to stay out of it. He stopped eavesdropping on the blonde officer; he didn't want to end up being questioned about the case. He already had his future father-in-law to worry about.
That "future father-in-law" was no ordinary man. He was a high-ranking head of the Gaordy clan. The clan had been superior to most for centuries, with influence in governing systems across the globe, especially in England, where they first rose to power. Rumor had it they even had ties to the Mice, an organization people had avoided for decades, though most had forgotten why.
David had decent grades in History. He knew enough about the "Unadvanced Era", the time before people could use Routes. A Route is the power within each human being that reflects their individual soul. Before the 1500s, people didn't use Routes, and at first, those with the ability were labeled witches. Within a century, however, it became so common that it was simply a part of daily life.
By 1950, a law was established: no individual was allowed to use Routes without a license. To get one, you had to attend one of the five Asterlis Universities located around the world. You could enroll for three years at any time after turning eighteen, provided you passed the brutal physical and mental entrance exams. Because using Routes made life so much easier, many people initially ignored the law, leading to the 1954 decree: using Routes without a license carried a prison sentence.
David, wanting no part of that trouble, never even considered using his.
He knew the Gaordy clan had begun it's rise in 1510 for mysterious reasons. The clan possessed traits far beyond the average person: immense physical strength and superior control over their own Routes and those of others. Even today, the secret of how they obtained these powers remained hidden, even from the clan members themselves.
"You're overthinking again. Hurry up, the train is leaving."
The voice snapped David out of his thoughts. He didn't respond. He knew that answering questions of a person that he only is able to see, makes others think of he is crazy or something. After all, explaining the thing that is talking to him to any other, would send him straight into a mental hospital.