Superpowers?

Despite all his attempts to seek for help, all eyes that fell on him shook their head sympathetically.

"Poor boy, he's running mad already." One voice said.

Wren heard another support the claim. "Who wouldn't run mad working at the palace? He's so handsome he doesn't deserve this kind of fate."

The people began to gossip and he could very much hear them! He paused for a moment and saw that they said nothing about the monster that chased him around!

"Can you people not see this monster?!" He had to ask like five times but he was only talking to himself.

Finally, one of the guards at the entrance tapped his shoulders, bringing his running and crying to an end.

"That's enough, kid, go inside now. The king is waiting for you."

Wren frowned. "Can't you see the monster thing chasing me!" He was already running out of breath now.

The man turned to stare and saw nothing, Wren could notice. Because he turned back as well and saw that there had been absolutely nothing chasing him in the first place.

What the hell...

"Go in already." The guard commanded.

He swallowed hard, then did as he'd been told. The palace was bigger than he thought it would be, but surprisingly not strange to his eyes. It was in fact very familiar. He knew the right places to go to, and he let his mind guide him straight until he was at the entrance of a throne room.

The guards opened up for him and he stepped foot inside. The room was wide with vast space. A mighty seat was in front with a well built man on the seat. Next to him was a smaller seat and a young lady about the same age as Wren sat comfortably on it. She had pretty eyes with small lips and fair skin.

Wren could have sworn she smiled at him. His guts told him he was meant to bow down to greet the royalties. And so he did.

"Wren," it was the king's voice that spoke but it almost did not sound like him. The voice was bold with authority, but had a touch of friendliness in it.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Are you causing trouble again?"

He saw the princess giggled. For some reason, he knew who she was. Castiel.

He took his eyes off her and returned his gaze to the king. "No, your majesty. I am not."

Somehow, the thought came to him. After seeing everyone on medieval outfit, he decided to check himself out. He was wearing a brown shirt and dark pants, something so old he wondered when he had the time to change his outfit!

Nothing made sense but he decided to go with the flow. He must have died from the accident that happened when the truck hit him. This must be heaven.

"Are you even listening, Wren?" He heard the king's voice called out.

"Y-Yes your majesty. I've been listening to you all this while." His statement ended with a forced smile. He could feel the princess eyes on him again, but he ignored.

"Then leave already?" Said the king.

Leave already? What...

"To go fetch the wines from the inn." For the first time, (although he doubted if it was the first time) he heard the princess's voice.

"Oh the inn. Yes of course the wine." He repeated until it would make sense to his ears. It never did. "I'll leave now, your majesty. Thank you, my princess."

And with that, he turned and left the palace. On his way to the supposed inn, he began to have memories of himself being a maid in the palace. How come, and since when? He didn't know.

Somehow, he found the inn. It stood alone on the road and immediately caught his eyes. Wren opened the door and walked in.

A man with his head on his hand was glaring at him with utmost carefulness, as if blinking alone would ruin the staring. Wren blinked twice, then realized that it had been his imagination.

He stood still, shifting uncontrollably as she recalled the memory of a human with his hand in his hand, and shivered at the thought. What the hell is wrong with me?

At least, at the end of every game, there would always be an end! He needed to confirm what was going on. No matter how far he decide to run to, he would always be drawn to the village as if it had been a past life of his or so. He had even glared at a small river on his way to study his reflection. He was still he same person; The pathetic 17 year old Wren who was hated and maltreated by everyone in New York!

"What do you want, mister?" A stout man looking like the inn keeper said to him. 

Wren cleared his throat. "I--"

"Not you, Wren. Go have your seat. I was talking to the man behind you." He said, and Wren wondered how they knew him there again! He saw that someone had indeed been standing behind him.

He took his seat by the corners in the inn. Men sang and drank loudly, chittering about stuff he knew he would care less about. 

A ma walked towards him, tall with an ugly face. He wasn't necessarily ugly, but on the first sight on seeing him, Wren could tell he would hate him. He didn't walk alone and had like four goons behind him.

"Get away from my seat, you filthy rag." The man hissed. He looked like he would be a few years older than Wren. 

"Really? Your seat? I didn't know people brought chairs from their houses, mister."

A hot punch landed on his lips that he immediately tasted blood in his mouth. He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. Why did he always have to be so weak all the time, letting everyone get away with him!

"I'm going to teach you a painful lesson today. Oh you're going to regret it!" The man threatened.

Why do I have to be such a coward all the time! Wren thought to himself. 

He got up and was about to leave like the coward that he was when he felt the man pull him back with the collar of his shirt.

Wren clenched his fist. People gathered around them and warned him to leave as those men were feared in the city.

"You'll be hurt badly, just leave them be already." the inn keeper said to him.

The man pulled Wren again but this time from his hair. This raised an uproar of cheers from the crowd.

Wren hadn't meant for his anger to explode but after setting himself free from his attacker, with just a single punch, the man launched into thin air and landed straight on a barrel at the other end of the room, breaking everything in his path. He laid there for a while, unconscious.

Wren stared at his fist and realized that he had punched a man for the first time in his life, and he might killed him even.