* 𝙰𝚗 𝙰𝚋𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚍 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 *

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[003]- ☾ '☂︎︎' ☽ -

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[003]
- ☾ '☂︎︎' ☽ -

           Reginald Hargreeves prowled the Umbrella Academy training room floor, it closely resembled a cross between NASA's Jet Propulsion laboratory and the X-Men's Danger Room. His silver monocle gleamed in the blue LED lights dotting the floor and ceilings.

           He passed a weight room and peered in, where young Luther effortlessly bench-pressed more than 500 pounds. His blonde hair flopping loosely with every lift.

           "Mind your form, Number One," Reginald said.

           Luther looked up, flashing a smile and straightening his back.

           "Yes sir."

          Reginald continued his walk around the floor. He soon passed an immense metal tank filled with water. Through the viewing glass built into the tank, submerged, was young Diego, arms crossed looking very bored.

           "How long's he been in there?" asked Reginald to a nearby technician who was monitoring his vitals.

           "Going on six hours," the technician replied.

           "Tell him he can come out at ten."

           Inside the tank, Diego scowled and gave Reginald the finger.

           "I think he understands," chuckled the technician.

           He rolled his eyes and resumed walking. He then stopped at Klaus, who stood motionless, trembling, eyes shut tightly in concentration. Upon seeing him struggling, Reginald leaned down.

           "Clear your mind," he said quietly.

           Klaus trembled. "But . . . the voices . . . . "

           "The voices are there to serve you, not the other way around. Your fear is a weapon, and I want you to use it. Now . . . clear your mind."

           Klaus took a breath, his face going slack. Behind him every object in sight began to levitate, bobbing and hovering in mid-air. Reginald nodded curtly, clapped Klaus on the back, and continued on.

            But he shortly came to a stop once more, this time at young Allison sitting on a bench, idly flipping through a magazine.

           "You're supposed to be training, Number Three," Reginald said.

           She didn't look up. "I heard a rumor I didn't have to," Allison said.

           "Quite right," Reginald nodded in agreement, and strolled off.

           He walked further and further, pushing through a set of doors, down a narrow corridor. and passing a series of individual training rooms similar to racquetball courts, all with floor-to-ceiling bulletproof shielding.

☂︎︎ HOUSE OF SHADOWS ☂︎︎ - five hargreevesWhere stories live. Discover now