ATLAS // Five Hargreeves

[#15] New Timeline, New Me

VANYA HARGREEVES HAD ALWAYS BEEN CONVINCED that she wasn't going to go anywhere.

This was mainly because she was otherwise talent-less and devastatingly average at every activity that she tried to do, and possibly because – aware of it or not – she is a product of what Reginald Hargreeves created.

But, after discovering that she, little Vanya Hargreeves, has magical powers that are capable of destroying the entire world... she's beginning to think that maybe she was wrong. Afterall, she has to be special in some way if she's qualified enough to blow up the world, right? It might not be good, and it might not be what she was looking for, but it's something.

Five wasn't too impressed in how she found this out. It was something that he wanted to keep a secret from her, at least for now, but he had made the dreadful mistake of letting her talk to Luther alone, and didn't recognize the repercussions of having to speak to Luther until it was too late.

Luther was the monkey that couldn't keep his mouth shut. He liked drama and he liked to gossip, and although this was something he would frequently deny, he particularly liked it when he was the one that was able to spread aforementioned drama and aforementioned gossip.

It was even better when he was able to be the one to tell his sister that she blew up the world. I mean, that was... it was pretty crazy, how could he not tell her?

Two assassins stood outside, leaning on the bonnet of Sissy's car with their arms crossed and a brooding silence between them. They had separated placed a gap of three feet between them, although their wasn't a motive behind the distance, and while Vanya was discovering what was really going on, Five was trying to do the same.

He had noticed that Atlas was the same. She looked the same – red hair, green eyes – and she definitely spoke the same – words dipped in threat and sarcasm – and of course, this was expected. There was no reason why she wouldn't be. She strode with the same single lead, emitting no sign of weakness as her movements carried forwards with fluidity and confidence, and she had been quick to catch the opportunity to insult Diego over breakfast when he tried to put milk in her coffee.

But while Atlas was still Atlas, Five was still Five. And it didn't take long for him to decipher the differences between her usual self.

Each insult or witty comment came at a slight delay – still at an impressively rapid succession, determined to hit you where it hurt – but with a delay nevertheless, and her eyes held a gentle detachment that didn't dart around the room but instead focused on one object around her. A sharp cut lay at the bottom of her nose, matching a blossoming bruise on the edge of her cheekbone, barely evident but clear enough for him to recognize that it had not always been there.

The most noticeable change, however, wasn't the purple contusions that littered her knuckles, nor the slight hesitance in which she responded to his questions, but rather the gaze in her eyes. Atlas was infamous for her menacing glint, but now all Five could see was blank. Atlas King had gone blank, and he wanted to know why.

"Where were you? Last night?" Five asked, his eyes casting towards a pebble that he rolled under his foot, his hands buried deep into his pockets. "You weren't on the couch, like you usually are."

"I went to the store." Atlas retorted with a swift ease that caused Five's neck to prickle with warning. But Atlas wasn't lying, she had gone to the store. "The grocery store on fifth. Had to buy some things."

"Like what?"

"Things that you buy at the grocery store. Groceries."

Five raised his brow. It was difficult to crack open the mind that was Atlas King. He had decided long ago that if he could trade his power of teleportation to be able to know what she was thinking, he trade in a heartbeat. He didn't respond and the silence made Atlas nervous. He could tell it made her nervous because she avoided his gaze and played with her fingers, cracking them over and over again without wincing at the sound.