London, March 1st 2110.

A sorry figure, wearing rags for a shirt and jeans with more holes in it than swiss cheese, slowly limped out of an unknown alleyway, with every step he took, a look of agony could be briefly gleaned from his complexion and looking at the figure, you could identify several things at first glance: First things first, his dishevelled hair, it was in the colour of blood red, even the passersby took notice, doing a double-take whenever glancing at his general direction. So much so, a crowd started forming around him, like looking at a caged animal from a few decades ago, they had called it a 'Zoo'. Nowadays, animals couldn't survive, and the ones that could were often rodents or insects built for disasters.

Another thing: His wounds; just like his hair, the scarlet openings that littered every part of his body oozed out half-dried blood, some could be seen from the open holes in his sorry excuse for a shirt, while others were strewn about haphazardly. Some were cuts and bruises, while others looked to be bullet wounds, not particularly deep mind you, but bullet wounds all the same.

Finally finding the crowd somewhat irksome, he scowled deeply, his hands quickly balling up into fists. Seeing this, the 'audience' seemingly cowed by his obvious anger, quickly scurried off, like rats seeing a cat.

Satisfied with that, the young man quietly shuffled towards the building across from the alleyway he appeared from. It was an old building, with its paint was faint in some places, and small bits and pieces of debris could be seen on the broken pavement; the top floor had multiple clothing lines strung end to end, with old and worn clothes hung on them, you could almost tell their age by just a glance. Furthermore, apart from one conspicuous room, none of the rooms had windows or was boarded up with wood, otherwise. Looking at this 'building' multiple emotions showed on his face, bitterness, nostalgia, and even... affection?

***

As the mysterious man approached the complex, a teenager, likely 19 years of age, groggily sat up from his bed, and after experiencing the few minutes of dizziness you get while waking up, the young man stood up sluggishly, as if recently recovering from a hangover. To be honest, It wasn't far off, the young man had clear spots on his skin, clearly from the nicotine patches laying about on the bedroom floor. In addition to that, the table lamp was left on, shining luminescence on some textbooks, clearly signifying his late-night study sessions. As the young man started to tidy up his room, he heard it.

-Shuffle-

Alarmed, the young man turned to study the human-sized shape under his patched up bedsheets. Finally recalling what happened last night he started mildly blushing. Slowly approaching his bed, he was almost about to call out to her, when the bedsheet suddenly burst open and a beautiful field of flowers assaulted his eyes, their luscious shapes, lovely smell... *Cough, Cough* I mean, her shaggy blonde locks and the ditzy expression she wore as she started to wake up.

Our lad, almost nonchalant, passed her a navy blue tank top, it's colour likewise faded just like the rest of the dilapidated apartment complex. Also unperturbed by her apparent nakedness, the woman accepted it easily, before getting up and briskly walked to the door. All the while having a silent conversation with him:

'Good morning,' He spoke.

'You too,' she responded.

'Where to?' He continued.

'I'll make breakfast,' She replied.

'Mhm, love you,' his eyes indicated.

'I love me too,' She finished. Afterwards opening the door, and true to their incognito heart-to-heart, walked towards the small kitchen just opposite of the bedroom, west of the entrance to their flat. Smiling wryly, he continued tidying up the bedroom. Occasionally hearing the sizzles and pops his future breakfast was making.

'Can't wait for what Ann's going to cook up for me,'

-Rumble-

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumble... No, not by his stomach, but from his front door. Frowning, he couldn't help but get annoyed at the bastard who banged on his door so early in the morning, but because he was just about done with cleaning, he begrudgingly headed to the door. Of course, he had no such qualms about being half-naked in front of people, after all, he wanted to show off his muscles too.

"Too bad you have none! Those pathetic excuse for muscles can't even compare with mine!"

Right as he was about to open the door, someone's shout echoed from across the room, originating from the kitchen: it was Ann, and she pulled no punches; flinching at her scathing remarks, he couldn't do anything but put on the shirt folded up neatly on their couch before opening the door.

"What do you... eh?"

In front of him was a stranger, even after a few seconds of searching, the machine called his brain didn't turn up any results for 'Creepy hobo with bright red hair,'. Naturally leading to his confused 'eh?'

"...Who might you be?" He looked askance at the man, clearly expressing his uncertainty. After all, the man did smell awfully like donkey arse, and he couldn't recall having any friends smelling like piss and dressing like a homeless person for fun.

As if not hearing his question at all, the hobo confidently hobbled into the flat, before speaking, his rough and scratchy voice grating to the ears.

"Gerald Williams, Antoinette Lynd... It is a pleasure to meet both of you,"

Hearing the words of the young man, Gerald did a double-take.

'Did-did he just says my name? And how does he even know Ann's name? Ooh boy,' He thought

'What? did you call me?' Suddenly, Ann's voice sounded out,

'No, but you came at a good time anyways, turn off the stove and come here for a moment, we have a situation, it concerns an unwelcome house guest,' He responded

'Wha-?' But before she could continue speaking, she was suddenly interrupted by the young man, who began speaking again,

"Gerald, call her here quicker,"

"Way ahead of you, but who are you to barge into my place?"

'What's going on?' she asked

'Shut it and come here, Ann... Bring the pistol too,' Of course, Gerald didn't answer her, with the strange man in front of him, he didn't really have the free time to explain what happened.

'Got it...'

Ending the connection, he looked back at the man, only to be dumbfounded at what she saw, he wasn't wearing rags anymore, replaced with a tux, completed with a beautifully made velvet tie, Matching his red hair. And although this change of wardrobe helped Gerald calm down a little, it served to up his mystery factor a couple of notches. What he said next though, made Gerald's hair stand on end.

"Antoinette Lynd, born 2087, abandoned and placed in St. Lewis Orphanage, reason being: telekinesis like powers. grew up to become the youngest economics professor in Britain, teaches in Oxford"

Pausing to look behind him, the man looked right at Antoinette, who had a speechless expression on her face. Smiling slightly, he turned his point of focus back at Gerald.

"Gerald Williams, born 2091, similarly abandoned at St. Lewis, for the same reason, currently an economics student at Oxford University... Student and teacher living in the same household, suspicious, isn't it?"

Putting aside the troubling information he had just revealed to them, the fact that he knew of their 'peculiarities' and their relationship, did nothing but unnerve them, though Ann still couldn't help but try refuting back:

"I can assure you, we're-"

"And I can assure you, I have no intention of revealing anything to the public,"

But he stopped her before she could say anymore. A bit annoyed at how things were going, Gerald furrowed his brows before questioning him further:

"So why are you here? make it quick or I'll blow your brains out"

By now, Gerald had swiftly sprinted to Ann's location, taking the gun from her hand, taking aim.

"...Max Heather, At your service," His slow, almost methodical voice echoed out.