Gnosis

CHAPTER 8: I HEARD A RUMOR II

Word Count: 2,637

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Luther's disbelief was palpable, his skepticism evident in the furrow of his brow. "I don't have time for your games, Klaus," he declared, his patience wearing thin. But Klaus remained resolute. "I'm telling you the truth, guys. I'm telling you the truth."

Five narrowed his eyes, his mind racing with the new information. "Why would he take his own life?"

Klaus sighed, his usual air of flippancy replaced with something more somber. "He said it was the only way to get us all back home again."

The weight of those words settled over the room, casting a dark mood and, for a moment, no one spoke.

(Y/n) exhaled deeply, her hands resting on the table as she spoke softly. "That's so sad."

"No." Luther's denial reverberated in the room as he stood. "Dad wouldn't just kill himself."

"You said it yourself." Five interjected, taking a sip of his coffee. "He was depressed. Holed up in his office and room all day and night."

Luther's denial only hardened. "No," he said again, his voice stronger this time. Luther shook his head, unwilling to accept the truth. "There weren't any signs. Suicidal people exhibit certain tendencies, strange behaviors."

"Like sending someone to the Moon for no reason?" Klaus' words were laced with a hint of sarcasm. There was an underlying truth that hit harder than Luther expected.

Luther's retort died on his lips, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he glared at Klaus. "I swear to God, Klaus, if you're lying about this—"

"He's not," (Y/n) interjected, her tone firm with conviction.

"Master Klaus is correct," a voice interrupted, drawing everyone's attention to the doorway.

All eyes turned toward the source: Pogo. The chimpanzee stood there, his eyes filled with the truth he carried, his hands clasped behind his back in a gesture of solemn respect.

Pogo's gaze shifted from Luther to the others, a deep sadness etched on his face. "Regretfully," he began, "I helped Master Hargreeves enact his plan."

"What?" Luther's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. He stared at Pogo, searching for some indication that this was all some cruel joke.

"So did Grace," Pogo continued, his voice heavy with regret. "It was a... difficult choice for both of us. More difficult than you could ever know." His gaze shifted between each of them, as if trying to convey the weight of their father's request. "Prior to your father's death, Grace's programming was adjusted so that she was incapable of administering first aid on that fateful night."

"Sick bastard," Five muttered, his disgust palpable as he came to terms with the enormity of their father's actions.

"That's just so dark," (Y/n) grimaced, her voice barely audible as she tried to process the enormity of what they were hearing.

"So the security tape we saw?" Luther's voice was barely above a whisper, his mind struggling to comprehend the depths of their father's deception.

"It was meant to further the murder mystery," Pogo confirmed with a solemn nod. "Your father hoped that being back here, solving it together... would reignite your desire to be a team again."

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Everyone eventually left the room, including (Y/n) and Five. They found themselves in Reginald Hargreeves' study. The room felt oppressive, filled with relics—books lining the shelves, papers arranged on the grand desk. Yet, despite the orderliness, there was an unmistakable weight in the air, like his ghosts still lingered. Five stood near the bookshelf, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, his mind far from the room. (Y/n), meanwhile, had made herself comfortable in Reginald's chair, one leg crossed over the other, her eyes following Five's movements.