A/N: This is going to be a bumpy one, and I sincerely hope this in no way glorifies self-harm or mental health issues. The story contains a medium-sized cast of characters I hope I treated with the proper care they deserve. This story is rated M, please proceed with caution and heed the trigger warnings below.

Trigger Warnings: self-harm, bigotry against a member of the LGBT community, volatile family dynamic, mental instability

If you have any issues with the story, please feel free to PM me or leave it in a review. If I handled something improperly, let me know! Also, there are several story lines working together, so if you guys have any questions ... I hope I can answer them privately without giving anything away.

BIG UPs to Fran for beta'ing, and Gabby and Heather for pre-reading.

10,000 years ago, there was One.

A lone sentient being that was no longer satisfied with its creations. Creations that showed how much weakness a temple could have when a foundation was given and not earned. How much time and effort they could waste. How many resources went unused, decaying, and dusted from no longer having a purpose.

What happened to consequential actions?

One was saddened as it watched, observed … pitied. Watched as desperation overcame rational thought. Observed as violence became an answer to nonexistent problems. What good was a race who made choices that sought a future laced with distinction, threaded with failure and destruction?

As She wept, She concluded that She had had enough.

Five tears, five extensions. Five leaders created from One herself. Pillars of strength who would guide such an excuse for humankind and lead them into a fruitful life.

To them, One gave pieces of herself – different abilities to aid their path.

The ability to travel in time.

The ability to manipulate what one feels and sees.

The ability to experience and contort one's emotions.

The ability to change their appearance.

And the ability to be All-Knowing with one touch.

Five leaders known as Generationists. A generation who used their gifts, respected their land and rose above, creating a world fit for a Titan-like reign that could overcome centuries of refuge molded by humankind.

Not one to follow the mistakes of humankind – Generationists having a misanthropic view of life – they wrote their own texts. As they built a new world, securing its future, they documented their journey. Five texts for five families, adding and learning as they went. Bloodlines becoming stronger with each generation birthed.

Although they were known to be different, Generationists blended in so seamlessly that no normal person, or Civilian, could decipher between the two. As they redeemed a dying planet, they watched the ungifted try to figure out how their land flourished. How their plants grew from nothing, how their animals evolved, and how they come to be.

These leaders, shaping the structure of social, political, and economic understanding, made Earth into what it is today. While millions may walk among you, the Generationists who oversee this planet are tucked away; residing in a small city off the map.

A place known in the 21st Century, as Pyreford, New York.

Present Day

There was a steady hum. A calm vibration across the sea of people gathered in Times Square. Manhattan, New York was known for its busy intersection, but there was no hurried movement, no one rushing off to check the next item on their list. People of all ages stared up at the large screens taken over by the announcement that would shift the world on its axis. While there were factions with frowns upon their faces and clenched fists of frustration, there were more, larger expanses with lips upturned to their ears.

Upturned with pure joy.

As the crowd shifted, nervously glancing up at the big screens surrounding them, a tick and a shutter sounded. Phones and cameras were ripped out of pockets and sleeves to engage in the social commentary surrounding the new leaders of the free world. A vast array of miniature cameras, designed to enhance the value of phones, switching to live broadcasts to capture the day's big event:

The Commencement of the Sovereign Seven.

The next generation of government officials; seven soldiers of the four families chosen to guard the world against all darkness. Made up of Generationists who held more than just political, social, and economic power.

It was interesting how many people were envious of those they did not know or understand yet could also hate in the same regard. How many people went to them for guidance or care or affection when they, themselves, would never give that in return. How many people would love to exploit and extort for personal gain but crave what came with being born into a station of power, with power.

To be filled with a tremendous gift that not everyone thought to be true, but still ... yearned for.

Desire.

Want.

Gifts that were unknowingly walking among them yet felt isolated from society, beaten down by discipline and fear.

Civilians would never be able to understand.

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.