you were everything

Y/N Alters Some Neurotransmitters

☂ well it would if you were smarter ☂ 

"What do you mean you're 'Number Eight'?" Diego demands, his voice cutting through the room, skepticism in his eyes. "There's only seven of us."

"I'm afraid you're wrong," I say, clasping my hands together with a sharp crack. "Dad kept me locked up in the downstairs chamber for my entire life."

The room falls into a suffocating silence.

"It's true," Vanya's voice rises, louder than usual, to break the tension. Her gaze flickers to Luther, whose brow furrows deeper, a storm of confusion brewing behind his eyes. "I met Y/N after one of your missions, when I was hiding in the kitchen."

I nod, recalling the dimly lit hallway. "Every night, she'd come down to my room to talk to me in secret."

Vanya smiles at the memory, but it fades quickly, her eyes softening with sympathy. "It must've been horrible... being all alone."

It was. Every moment of it.

"It just doesn't make sense though," Luther interjects, frustration creeping into his voice. "Why would Dad hide an eighth member?"

"Because he thought I'd accidentally kill someone with my so-called ability," I reply flatly, my words devoid of emotion.

"What are your powers?" Alison asks, leaning forward, her voice cautious but intrigued.

"Manipulation over anything." The words come out of me like a rehearsed line, automatic.

"Anything?" Klaus's voice dances with disbelief, eyes wide with amusement.

"Anything."

"Prove it," Diego leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, watching me closely.

I extend my hand, and a vivid blue light flickers from my fingertips, a pulse of electricity that hums with power. Without effort, Dad's large oak desk floats up two feet into the air. Klaus's eyes widen, his hands scrambling to grip the sides of the desk to steady himself as it hovers.

I let the desk lower gently back to the ground.

"Enough proof for you?" I tap my fingers on my uniform skirt, eyes drifting between them all, waiting for a response.

"You say you can control anything?" Luther asks, his voice tinged with doubt. "People too?"

I yawn, clearly bored by their lack of understanding. Leaning forward, I lock eyes with him. "Stand."

Luther's body moves without his consent, stiffly rising to his feet.

"Sit back down."

Without a second thought, Luther plops back down in his chair, looking more confused than ever.

"How—?" Alison starts, her voice faltering.

"My ability lets me manipulate the emotional and neural pathways in the brain," I explain, my voice smooth, almost clinical. "I can alter toxins, neurotransmitters, all that fun stuff. Positive or negative reactions. Anything else?"

Klaus leans in, grinning mischievously. "No, no, I think that's good." He exchanges a look with someone behind him, a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. "You know who Y/N reminds me of?"

He raises his brows as if he's about to share a deep secret, glancing around the room. "You think so too?"

"There are more important things to discuss right now!" Luther says impatiently, clearly annoyed by the detour.

"Really, Luther?" Alison cuts in, her voice sharp with disbelief. She gives him a pointed look that silences him instantly. "You just found out we have another sibling that Dad kept hidden in the basement, and you don't think that's important?"

Luther gulps, flustered. "No, I just—"

"She's got a point, big guy," Diego adds, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he flashes me a grin. "So tell us, Y/N. Why do you look 12?"

I roll my eyes, irritation creeping up my spine. "15." I shrug, my tone flat. "I was in a coma for a long time. Didn't age a day. Apparently, Dad thought I needed time to learn to control my powers when my brain was more..." I pause, searching for the word. "...'evolved.'"

"So he decided to freeze you for what—several years?" Diego slaps his knee, a rough laugh escaping him. "Dad's a real maniac."

"For once, I agree with Diego," Alison says, shaking her head, her expression a mix of disbelief and sympathy. "That's just cruel." She brushes past Luther's protest, ignoring him completely.

"Which means... you're mentally 29?" Vanya asks, her tone tentative, as if trying to sort through the tangled facts.

"Twenty-eight," I say, my voice tinged with impatience.

Klaus's face lights up with a grin. "Whoa, so you're like... old enough to drink."

"Is that really the first thing that comes to mind?" I say. 

Alison glares at him, exasperated. "Klaus..."

He shrugs, unbothered. "Well, I'm also very invested in my... other substances." Klaus pets his skirt as though it's a cherished companion. "Very."

Diego rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "Can we please move on?"

"Can I please speak?" Luther interrupts, his voice growing gruff, clearly on edge.

"Fine."

Luther glares at me, his patience clearly wearing thin. "We need to discuss how Dad died."

I raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Heart failure—didn't you learn to read? I know newspapers often contain difficult language, but have they rendered you incapable or something?"

Klaus claps his hands together, grinning widely. "I like this one."

Luther's glare intensifies, but I don't back down.

Author's note-

I promise it'll get more interesting...Five's coming soon 😉