You will dive deep into the life of Five Hargreeves, exploring scenarios where you are his partner in crime, confidante, and love interest. Each short Story offers a unique glimpse into different aspects of Five's multifaceted personality-his wit, h...
A/N: Yes, I know the first chapter is very short, the other chapters are longer, I promise.
Warnings: none
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The decision had been unanimous—or as close as the Hargreeves family could get to unanimous. Five, his siblings, and Lila had agreed that The Cleanse was their only option. They would surrender themselves, stop existing, and in doing so, save the world from itself. The idea was simple, albeit terrifying: their existence had caused untold chaos, and by removing themselves, they'd restore balance.
Luther placed a reassuring hand on Klaus shoulder. "Oh God, I'm gonna miss you guys."
"Maybe we'll see each other again." Allison said quietly, her hand trembling in Viktor's.
Five stood there, his hand holding Lila's, his sad look directed at his siblings. He simply nodded at Allison, his expression softer than usual. "That would be nice."
"You know, I just wanna say I love you guys... but you are all assholes." Klaus's voice broke as his tears streamed down his face.
As the Cleanse engulfed them, Five's last thought wasn't of the apocalypses they had faced or the sacrifices they had made. It was of the moments in between—the laughter, the arguments, the unspoken love they shared as a family.
Then, nothing.
When Max was born, he had no memory of his previous life.
He was a precocious child, always ahead of his peers, with an innate brilliance that baffled his teachers. Yet, from as early as he could remember, fragments of dreams would haunt him. They weren't ordinary dreams—they were vivid, visceral. He would wake up gasping, his mind filled with images of strange places, impossible events, and faces that felt achingly familiar.
At six, he dreamt of a glass eye. At eight, he saw the face of a man—a monocle, stern expression—standing at a table. By twelve, the dreams began to speak to him, whispering names: Luther. Diego. Viktor. Klaus. Allison. Ben. And one name louder than the rest—Five.
His parents thought he had an overactive imagination. His teachers believed he was simply restless. But Max knew better.
One day, during a class on history, his teacher mentioned John F. Kennedy, and something clicked in Max's mind—a memory of an old man, a portal, and a large man who helped him. He didn't understand it, but it lingered.
By the time he turned 25, Max had grown into a remarkable young man. He excelled in everything he attempted, but the gnawing sense of incompleteness persisted. It wasn't until he joined the special police unit that things began to change.
One day, after a particularly grueling case, Max sat alone in his apartment, flipping through his notebook. It was filled with scattered thoughts, sketches of unfamiliar faces, and theories that would make most people question his sanity.
"Who are you?" he whispered, staring at the name Five scrawled in the corner of the page.
The memories weren't fading—they were growing stronger.
