Once, the Umbrella Academy was unstoppable. Under the tutelage of their guardian and mentor, Dr. Reginald Hargreeves, its members spent their childhoods fighting evil and honing their extraordinary gifts.
Until something went terribly wrong.
Now, ni...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄 ❛the game is on.❜
LOGIC DICTATED SUSPICION. Reginald Hargreeves held secrets, that much was undeniable. But suspicion, however potent, wasn't data. Zero tapped her fingers impatiently against her armrest, the rhythmic clicks echoing in the sterile silence of her room. Every attempt to gather concrete evidence had yielded fragments, useless trinkets on the periphery of a truth she craved. Frustration, a dull ache at the back of her skull, pulsed with each dead end. The answer hovered just beyond reach, obscured by the labyrinthine machinations of her adoptive father.
An unwelcome wrinkle marred the fabric of the problem. Cryptic symbols, rendered in the swirling script of her mother's language, now adorned every surface of her room. Walls, floor, ceiling – a celestial tapestry woven across her familiar space. They had appeared overnight, a silent intrusion. Even her bed bore the alien script, meticulously etched as if a message for a slumbering mind. Zero ran a finger along the inscription on the window, tracing the unfamiliar curves. Her own handwriting, stark against the alien script, marred the pristine symbols with recurring phrases. "虚空に落ちる" and " ご" appeared with unsettling frequency.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Plans within plans, truths within truths, lies within lies.
~ ☂︎ ~
The sterile white of the chessboard mirrored the emptiness in Zero's gaze. Black and white squares stretched before her, an invitation to a familiar war of logic. Reginald sat opposite, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. He expected a challenge, the thrill of an opponent who could exploit his strategies. Zero, however, saw patterns. Predictability.
She made her move, a single pawn pushed forward. It was an unorthodox opening, one that defied the grand gestures Reginald usually favored. He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise momentarily disrupting his composed facade.
