‟ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ? / ᴏʜ, ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴅɪᴇ „ willow tree march, the paper kites
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1st of April, 2004.
Vanille had always been fascinated by the academy as a building, with expansive corridors that seemed to stretch out endlessly, with training rooms they had never even seen, with three floors and a basement. With, as they had soon learned after moving in, forty-three bedrooms and nineteen bathrooms. But rarely did they have a chance to explore it; constantly distracted by training or studying or missions or any number of things that meant they did not have free roam of the building.
But there was one time, one time on the first of April in 2004 that Vanille had developed a nasty sickness, one that meant they had not been allowed to attend the mission the Umbrella Academy would be embarking on that day- nor had they been allowed to accompany Reginald and Viktor in observing it. No, they had been left alone with only Pogo and Grace in the academy. Grace checked in on them every one-and-a-half hours to see if they required anything and to monitor their symptoms or bring them food. And upon the academy being empty and Grace having just left their bedroom, Vanille decided this was the perfect opportunity to explore the academy.
Approximately forty-seven minutes into this exploration was when Vanille discovered a peculiar elevator situated in the basement. Blaming their questionable decision-making on the brain fog garnered from the illness, Vanille stepped inside the elevator and pressed the only option it gave. The doors shut and Vanille remained in the elevator for exactly two minutes before opening slowly.
Opposite them was a long corridor, unusually wide. It was dimly-lit by a warm orange that faded into a cold and clinical blueish-white at the end, where it faced a large metal door that would have blended into the wall had it not been for the long oval-shaped window that revealed a room beyond it. Despite the growing sense of fear that was creeping through their body, Vanille slowly approached the door, taking note of every single inch of this secret underground space.
They put their hand on the wheel to open the door, the metal icy-cold under their touch. They stepped up further towards the glass, peering through into the room on the other side. The walls were lined with strange jagged spikes protruding from every angle, the lighting a cold white and shining from the gaps in the hostile triangular features of the room. It looked unpleasant. They turned at the wheel. Heavy. Vanille nodded approvingly. Secure. Perhaps this would be a safe place to shelter when the apocalypse came. So far underground that they could be protected from any surface events; though they did note that there did not appear to be any way of reaching the surface other than the electricity-powered elevator.
This was amended when they returned to the elevator shortly after, noticing a large panel in the back of it. Upon prying it open, Vanille discovered a dumbwaiter. It was large, and seemed to be operating on a pulley system. They did not attempt to discover where this led, instead securing the panel back on the elevator and taking the two-minute journey upward.
