𝙒𝙄𝙇𝘿║𝙁. 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙨

CHAPTER ELEVEN: DIVIDED

"Number Eight and Number Five are to have no contact whatsoever for a period of fourteen days."

They were all gathered in the training room. It was sterile, white, and impossibly clean. Almost everything there was in sets of eight, so their father could test them all simultaneously when he ran one of his tests. He included Vanya occasionally, hence there being eight. Today was scheduled for Theory Thursday, or Klaus called it. The day where their father applied certain aspects or regimes to them and recorded for a week. Some of the ideas their father had were outlandish and next to impossible. Others were just strange and maybe even fun on the rare occasion.

This, however, was a nightmare come true.

"W-What?" Feliks, Number Eight, stuttered. Five was shocked into silence next to him as well as the rest of their siblings. As long as they had all been born, Five and Eight had never been more than across the academy from each other.

"You harbor too much codependency on one another. We cannot have it getting in the way of stealth missions," Reginald informed them crisply. "You will have to learn to cope by yourselves." He nodded and jotted something down in his cursed journal.

"That's ridiculous!" Feliks exclaimed, moving forward and pushing Five behind him protectively. "Five and I work together in a cohesive unit, and that you cannot deny! We have run into no problems but your need to control everything and make us suffer!" He snapped.

"Number Eight, stand down, or I will have to get the collar." The man said sternly. The temperature in the room went impossibly lower as a crackle of energy went between their father and Feliks.

Feliks seemed to go still and frighteningly silent, his glare unfaltering. "Ty ne ostanovish' menya, otets." He said calmly. "I have tolerated your games thus far, but do not mistake that for compliance. If you get in way of my few happiness, I will be merciful not." Though his declaration may have had a few errors, it was no less threatening.

Reginald Hargreeves observed the eerily quiet boy in front of him carefully. Number Eight's powers had always been vast, but with them came something wild, feral, untameable, dangerous.

"Pogo, get the collar."

The children, minus Five and Eight, were huddled together after leaving the dinner table. It had been unnaturally silent during the meal. Of course, it was always quiet when eating in their father's household, but tonight it was... different.

"Soooo..." Klaus began. "I'm not the only one who feels like they're playing the dumb blonde in a horror movie? 'Cause the dumb bimbo always gets killed first, and these constant goosebumps and I are not vibing whatsoever."

"Yeah..." Allison agreed, despite the strange statement. "It was weird, too... abnormal?" She tried, rubbing her neck unsurely.

"Like something was missing," Vanya mumbled, picking nervously at the loose skin of her finger.

"Well yeah," Ben shrugged. "Five is shut in his room indefinitely, and Feliks is locked up in the Room." Everyone gave him looks, and he put his hands up in surrender. "Just saying what we were all thinking. Not like we should avoid it anyway..." He muttered.

"Ben's right," Luther said, nodding firmly. "We shouldn't avoid it."

"Yeah," Diego sighed, crossing his arms. "As m-much as I h-hate to ad-m-mit it, we're all w-we got."

"Hell yeah, Numbers unite!" Klaus concurred with a whoop.

"What should we do, though, is the question," Ben said with a thoughtful look.