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"I know who started the apocalypse. This is who we have to stop."
Allison opens the small piece of paper, labeled from The Commission. The letter is addressed to Hazel and Cha-Cha, their reassignment to protect Harold Jenkins.
"Harold Jenkins?" Allison asks.
"Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?" Diego questions with confusion, looking up at Five.
The old man stuck in his prepubescent body slurps down the last of Allison's coffee, down to the last drop, in fact, before facing his siblings again.
Max and Ben take a seat as the alive siblings chatter about, spreading out on the parallel couches in between the group. He informs them of every single piece of information that has probably ever been known to the world about this man.
"I'm sorry, am I the only one that's skeptical here?" Allison asks. "I mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what's his name?"
"Harold Jenkins" Five corrects. "You know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?"
"Oh yeah, I think I remember those guys," Klaus sarcastically answers, deadpanning Five.
"Yeah, the ones that attacked us while you were getting drunk." Diego nods.
"Yeah. Them. They were sent by the Temps Commission to stop me from coming back and preventing the end of life on Earth."
Klaus takes a seat next to Max, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"The Temps what?" Allison asks, arms crossed.
"My former employer. They monitor all of time and space to make sure whatever is supposed to happen, happens" Five explains in a simpler set of vocabulary. "They believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. So I went to Commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for said lunatics. "Protect Harold Jenkins" So he must be responsible for the apocalypse."
The main trio, Luther, Diego, and Allison are silent for a moment before popping their questions at once.
"What do you mean protect time and space?"
"Where is this, Hazel, Five?"
"What are you talking about?"
"My skin is on fire..."
"Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?"
"You know what else is insane?" Five spits. "I look like a thirteen year old boy. Klaus talks to the dead, and Luther thinks he's fooling everybody with that overcoat. Everything about us is insane. It always has been."
"He's got a point there," Klaus mutters, laying fully down on the couch, causing Max to retreat to the other one with Ben.
"We didn't choose this life, we're just living it." Five continues. "For the next three days anyway."
