Guinevere was the eighth child adopted by Sir Reginald Hargreeves into the Umbrella Academy. Like the rest of her siblings, she grew up in the house, training, fighting, and harnessing her powers. But when tragedy strikes the household twice, it bro...
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Hours had passed, and the new day was upon us and Five was awake and told us what was truly happening with him and why he was gone. The fucking apocalypse was upon us and he waits until now to tell us. To let us in to help him sort it all out. My mind was racing with the different possibilities on what Five had spoke. I pace up and down the room, passing Luther on the way as he sat in a chair, a few inches away from the bed as Five was on the edge, leaning onto his legs as he stares at Luther and myself.
"When's it supposed to happen?" Luther's voice echoed in my ears as I stopped my pacing and came to stand to the left of Luther. "This... apocalypse," he spoke, sending a cold shiver down my spine.
"I can't give you the exact hour, but-" Five began as I stare at him, waiting for the answer. "From what I could gather, we have four days left," I couldn't help but scoff at him as this was unbelievable, he always was a little shit for going at things alone.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Luther spoke, annoyed with our Brother, but of course he knew what he was like with this.
"It wouldn't have mattered," Five replied in a low voice.
"Of course it would have," I pipped up as I didn't want to remain quiet anymore. "We could've come together and helped you try and stop this," Five was now locked eyes with me, but he didn't seem phased by my comment.
"For the record, you already tried," Five replied low once again, making me frown at him, his eyes flickered between us.
"What do you mean?" Luther asked, wondering what he meant. But his gaze was on the floor, trying to find the courage to tell us.
"I found all of you," Five began, his eyes rose from the ground and to us. "Your bodies," he sounded so heartbroken about finding us.
"We die?" Luther spoke, as I couldn't believe it. No wonder he's been so cold towards us, we found us all dead. I couldn't imagine how he must have felt, and the guilt of it all following him around for over Forty-Five years.
"Horribly," he went on, making me feel sad and I just wanted to go up to him and give him a hug - but he wasn't an affectionate type.
"Oh, Five," my tone was in distress and concern for him.
"You were together, trying to stop whoever it was that ends the world," Five explained, meaning we all banded together to stop whoever it was, but we were unsuccessful and died in the process.
"Wait, how do you know that?" Luther asked, but Five goes into his blazer pocket and pulls free a cloth and unwraps it.
"This was clutched in your dead hand when I found you," Five revealed a glass eye as he held it up to us.
"A glass eye?" I asked with a frown as he throws it to Luther and he catches it in his hands.
"Must've ripped it out of their head right before you went down," Five suggested the idea as that's the only possible way he could have gotten the eye.
