"—Master Klaus is correct" Pogo settled the argument as he appeared in the doorway of the scullery, hunched over his cane. Theodore flopped over to the side to peer up at the ape's entrance and tiredly watched he shuffled inside.

"What…?" Five puzzled as he sat upright in his seat.

"Regretfully, I helped Master Hargreeves enact his plan" Pogo sheepishly bowed his head as he shuffled a little further into the room until he stood at the head of the breakfast table.

"What…?" Luther breathed in shock as his legs seemed to buckle from beneath him, sending him back into his chair.

"So did Grace. It was a difficult choice for the both of us…more difficult than you could ever know. " Pogo continued on with emotion making his voice thick and heavy. "Prior to your father's death, Grace's programming was adjusted so that she was incapable of administering first-aid on that…fateful night"

"Sick bastard!" Five cursed.

("You said it!" Ben agreed. Although, he wasn't sure if his brother meant Pogo or Dad, or both).

"So the security tape we saw…?" Luther queried hesitantly.

"It was meant to further the murder mystery" Pogo nodded, "Your father hoped that being back here—solving the mystery—would reignite your desire to be a team again"

("So, no love for that supposed family of his? He's just all business?" Ben scoffed, "Sounds about right")

"To what end?" Five puzzled.

"To save the world, of course!" Pogo stated as if it were obvious.

"Hehe~! Alright!" Klaus giggled hysterically in the corner as he leant against the table, seemingly bowed by the weight of the confession.

"First the moon mission and now this…?" Luther groused, "You watched me search for answers and said nothing! Anything else you wanna share, Pogo? Any other damn secrets you wanna share—?!"

"—Hey!" Klaus perked up.

"Luther, calm down!" Five chorused in time with his brother.

"No, I won't calm down!" Luther retorted, his tone full of fire and ire. "We've been lied to by the one person in this family that we all trusted!"

"It—it was your father's dying wish, Master Luther" Pogo pleaded, "I—I had no choice!"

"There's always a choice!" Luther refuted angrily, "And you chose wrong—!"

"—Oh, will you shut up!" Theodore snapped at his bigger uncle as his voice took on a tone of alluring note as he accessed his Legacies and effectively shut off his uncle's voice, much to his chagrin. The twelve year old could only take so much whining before he snapped—and rightfully so—as he turned back to the radio, satisfied. "Can't even hear myself think…!"

"Master Theodore—!" Pogo scolded the boy, astonished that he would do such a thing to his uncle. "Release his voice at once!"

"No" Theodore replied shortly—stubbornly—as he fiddled with the radio buttons, not even sparing a look upwards at the strange looks of the others who had just watched this little boy—quite literally—render their brother speechless.

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

Luther silently stomped over to the couch tucked into the back corner of the scullery and stood imposingly over Theodore, hoping to intimidate the boy into giving him his voice back now that he found himself unable to say anything. It was only thanks to Vanya's previous warnings and the memory of being tossed across the room (plus various extremities being threatened) that stopped Number One from getting too physical with the boy. That, and he still noticed the obvious flinch as Theodore tried to subtly melt into the couch in an effort to get away from his large uncle; clearly, he too, remembered the events of their earlier encounter(s).

Forcing a deadpanned and withering expression—one that tinged with fear—Theodore finally raised his head to meet Luther's glare. Number One found himself balking at the sight that he found; a single eye, framed by brown curls, glowed an eerie blue and when he opened his mouth the most alluring of sounds fell out without preamble. Luther had heard many a-song over his lifetime, but he had never heard a song like this. It had this sound, something so soothing and warm; something that just filled up a hole he didn't know was there. And when he welcomed the song's embrace, allowing it to wash over him, his brain turned numb & he couldn't help but follow along to the orders sung to him. Like the sailors under the spell of the sirens, Luther found himself memorised by Theodore's song and unable—& unwilling—to wrench himself free.

"Light on your feet, passed windows you creep; follow the path as wood was tree. One step ahead, whilst their tucked in cane, you'll find yourself walking far & free!" Theodore sang, his voice strong & true as Luther straightened and began to take long strides that drew him out of the room. And before he knew it, Luther was walking out of the scullery and up through the depths of the house to who-knows-where. "Luu-lu, lu-lu lulu lu-lu lulu lu! Lulu lala lu-lu, lala lu lulu lu! There is no fight there inside of you! Hush!"

"…What?" Theodore snapped, his voice filled with irritation (a byproduct of his sleep being disrupted, the worry about his still missing vera and the added bonus of now being a wanted fugitive as he tried to figure out how to access the one link to the outside world & Garde/LANE circuit without being interrupted again).

"Was that really necessary?" Don Klaus cocked a sarcastic brow as he sunk into the nearest chair and jerked his head over towards where Don Luther had disappeared off to.

"…He wouldn't stop whining!" Theodore weakly defended himself as he returned his attention to the radio in his lap for a moment.

"Master Theodore—!" A'Don Pogo scowled, looking far more disappointed than Theodore ever cared for.

"I'm not sorry" Theodore stubbornly refused to apologise. But after a beat of silence, he piped up again with something that had been bugging him for a while. "…Hey, A'Don?"

"Yes, Master Theodore?" A'Don Pogo sighed heavily—tiredly—as he turned to face the boy huddled up on the couch.

"If—if A'Doro was a Tavan…and—and he saw this all happen before…" Theodore began hesitantly, almost haltingly as if it were hard for him to spit it out, but he was still hopeful. It was a far cry from the confident siren who had bewitched Number One only moments before. "Does—does—did, um, did that mean he knew what happened to Vera? Does—did—he know where she went?"

"…I'm afraid I don't know, m'boy" A'Don Pogo apologised sadly after sparing a glance towards both of the elder Hargreeves boys who were expectantly awaiting his answer. A'Don's face was withdrawn and solemn as he hunched further over his cane in an almost apologetic bow.

"Oh…" Theodore deflated.

"Sir Reginald kept many secrets and many that he did not share with me" A'Don Pogo tried to appease the boy.

"Oh, okay" Theodore nodded sadly as he slumped back against the arm rest; he clearly didn't believe his A'Don's words.

("He's said that before" Don Ben puzzled, "What is a 'Tavan?").

"Hey, Teddy?" Don Klaus piped up.

"Hm?" Theodore hummed absently.

"What's a 'Tavan?" Don Klaus asked, repeating his brother's unheard question for all to hear.

"Oh, well, uh" Theodore shifted into a more comfortable position as the conversation turned towards something less upsetting. "It's kinda like—oh, what's that thing that people talk about when you're born between certain dates? Y'know, the ones with star signs and stuff?"

"…D'you mean, horoscopes?" Don Klaus replied, after sparing a questionable glance towards his brothers.

"Yeah! That one!" Theodore brightened as he clicked his fingers in recognition. "It's like that, only instead of which moon is rising or falling or whatever, the Loric horoscopes tell you which Legacy—uh power(s)—you'll most likely develop. At least, that's what A'Vera Katerina said"

"And, uh, what's that mean for a—what did you call him?—A Tavan?" Don Fën pursued, lips pursed in thought (he still a little on edge after watching Theodore more or less frog-march their brother out of the room without lifting so much as a finger).

"Er, Tavans are predisposed to…precognition, I think it was?" Theodore mused, turning to A'Don Pogo for reassurance. "And uh, telepathy. But there's no guarantee"

"So…you think that Dad knew about all of this beforehand?" Don Fën pursued with his brow pulled down so low that you could barely see his eyes. "The Apocalypse? Vanya & Harold? His death-slash-suicide? Everything?"

"That's why I was asking" Theodore hummed, "Either way, it's a pretty shitty birthday present, if I'm being honest…Although, it is pretty ironic that Lorien's sister planet is s'posed to explode almost sixty-nine years after they did"

("Lorien?" Don Ben puzzled, "What's that? I feel like I've heard that before…")

"Lorien? Sister planet? What're you talking about?" Don Klaus asked, again repeating his brother's questions for all to hear.

"You—you don't know? I thought you knew, considering—" Theodore's brows furrowed in confusion as his head snapped up towards the table where his two dons still sat. He only found a shared feeling of confusion starting back at him. "Oh, well, Lorien is Earth's sister planet—the big sister planet—which basically means that the Lorics were here when Humans crawled out of the sea. At least that was until the Mogs ruined everything"

("Mogs?" Don Ben mouthed).

"Mogs?" Klaus asked in confusion.

"Yeah, Mogs" Theodore nodded, "Y'know, as in Mogadorians? The other aliens—the ones that invaded in 2011? They're on the news sometimes? Er, elf ears? Bald heads? Shark teeth? Walks around like they're Matrix extras? Is any of this ringing a bell?"

"Hm" Don Fën hummed in thought as he sat back, soaking up the information thrown at them.

"Well, they sound…fun" Don Klaus sassed, his tone full of sarcasm. "But what are they even doing here in the first place? What's so interesting about us? Wait—! Is this another apocalypse thing?"

"No, not you; just the Garde" Theodore shook his head as he corrected his don. "And they're here—on Earth—because when they invaded our sister planet—Lorien—sixty-nine years ago and slaughtered everybody, some people escaped. Like A'Doro and A'Vera Katerina. Now though? Now, they're rounding up all the Human Garde like we're lost sheep or something and they're filling their victims full of holes, so that they can transfer our Legacies into them to create their Augments"

"Augments?" Don Fën asked for clarification.

"Alien super soliders" Theodore supplied.

"Oh…goody!" Don Klaus sassed as he kicked his feet up onto the breakfast table, looking the most relaxed since he had begun this whole charade.

"Ugh!" Don Fën sighed, tiredly running his hands over his face and through his hair in exasperation and (slight) defeat, before he too, left. "I gotta think"

WHOOSH!

The kitchen fell into an uncomfortable silence as Don Fën Blinked away, teleporting out of the room to who-knows-where. As for Don Klaus, he simply twisted in his seat so that he could murmur quietly to the spare chair next to him and A'Don Pogo finally waddled out of the room, with back bowed over his walking cane & feet shuffling against the floorboards. If Theodore were to hazard a guess, A'Don Pogo was likely going to see where Don Luther had wandered off to, wherever that may be. In turn, Theodore sunk low in his seat as he lost himself to his guilt-ridden thoughts. Thoughts of his missing vera, thoughts of the damage he had caused to St Greg's, thoughts of his new fugitive state and the supposedly impending apocalypse that would fall right on his thirteenth birthday. (That had to be a sign right? Because how unlucky could the number 'thirteen' really be?) But mostly, his thoughts were of his vera and how much he missed her.

"…Hello~?" Don Klaus leant back in his chair, rocking it all the way back on its hind legs as his brother prodded at him to ask their nephew what was going on. "Theo?"

"Hm?" Theodore hummed absently, still focused on the old radio in his hands.

"You okay in there, Teddy Bear?" Don Klaus persisted.

("Hey! That rhymed!" Ben smiled childishly).

"Teddy?" Don Klaus prompted, looking slightly concerned as Theodore suckled at his lips and fought to keep the tears from falling.

"…I want my vera! She—she said that we were gonna go out to a special dinner after her concert, for my birthday. But—but now—now no one can find her and the world's gonna explode!" Theodore whined as he turned to his don(s) with wet eyes, rimmed red. "…Did—did I do something wrong? Did I upset her or something? Is that why she won't come back? Is it my fault?"

"Uh, w-well…" Don Klaus panicked, not quite sure to do with his whimpering neef and as he scrambled for something to say, in the end, he just spat out the first thing that came to mind. "When—when's your birthday?"

("Klaus!" Don Ben scowled, "That's not how you comfort someone! You know that!")

"I panicked!" Don Klaus retorted.

"Huh?" Theodore blinked, caught slightly off-guard by the randomness of the question.

"Er, when's your birthday?" Don Klaus repeated, just rolling with it because it seemed to be doing the trick more or less.

"Uh, the first of April…?" Theodore replied, although it sounded more like a question than a statement.

"Your birthday is on April Fool's Day?" Don Klaus asked skeptically, a brow quirked almost humorously.

("That can't be right!" Don Ben shared in his brother's sentiment, "He's gotta be joking! April Fool's? Seriously?")

"Yeah" Theodore nodded, "And consequently, doomsday"

("…Or maybe not")

"Oh" Don Klaus blinked dumbly.

"Yeah, it's like 'Happy Birthday!' and then BOOM!" Theodore gestured wildly with his hands before his head lolled back to rest on the armrest, "It's not fair!"

"Er…and how old are you turning?" Don Klaus tried to steer the conversation away from that depressing notion; y'know the one about the end of the world and Vanya's missing status.

"Thirteen years old…!" Theodore yawned as his gaze slid back down to the singing radio in his hands, "Happy Birthday to me! The world's gonna burn with all o' ye! I'm calling it early: This is gonna be The. Worst. Birthday. Ever!"

"Yeah, it's pretty hard to top that"