Chronological markers: this scene fits in as a deleted scene from The Umbrella Academy, season 3, episode 8, around 12:50 (after Klaus and Hargreeves return to the Hotel Obsidian, while Luther asks Viktor to be his best man).

Suggested soundtrack: Iron Maiden - Brave New World ; REM - This is end of the world as we know it (And I feel fine).

-

April 07 2019, 03h36 am

I felt hope tonight, and not just because David Bowie is an incredible guy, with whom I had the chance to chat for almost eight minutes, before Klaus could hold no more. I saw him summon and materialize the dead: not just ghosts stuck in that cemetery, but literal revenants conjured from the beyond. I saw him confident in what he could do, believe it or not.

I don't know if you realize what this means for him. Regardless of what this version of Hargreeves wants, Klaus literally shattered his phobia of his own power tonight, while taming part of the trauma from his childhood. I don't know if the benefits will be lasting, but in the moment, he's rarely been this happy.

And this exhausted.

I have no idea what it's like to have your spleen punctured repeatedly in a single day, or to see your bones break and knit themselves back together continuously. I haven't come back to life often, but the last time it left me utterly drained. So I completely understand why he collapsed - falling asleep on his pillow - after an entire day of 'bus-ball' and summoning, during which his only meal was a gas station sandwich, after our phone call at noon.

Hargreeves paid for us to stay the night at a dingy motel in Lakeshore Hills, the only place around with somewhat public beds, unless you count the hospital or a rehab center. The city lights finally gave out here too, and driving back through the chaos in Hermes wasn't exactly part of the plan.

We were parking in the lot when it happened. When we felt it return, more powerful than ever. The Kugelblitz. And in that instant, I understood two things: first, that the Dyson Sphere had failed. And second, that as a consequence… Chris had been obliterated. As a cube, as pure energy - since that's what he had become - and most tragically, as a person.

I've faced my own death twice before: this third time feels different. Deep down, I had grown attached to Chris. I'll miss his sarcasm, even when he was a total jerk. His courage too, which I don't think I possess. He tried until the very end, and the failure of this desperate but necessary attempt is devastating news for everyone. I hope it wasn't because he was too unstable because of me. Possibly, I'll never know. I cling to his final words to me: now, in this timeline, I am all that remains of him.

Unlike Klaus, who is sleeping like a rock in room 12, I can't sleep. I sit in the small living room with its 80s-style furniture, on the edge of the single hallway in this retro motel on the outskirts of The City. The dim lighting struggles to illuminate the old embroidered cushions, and the air smells of the ancient coffee machine.

The events of the day loop endlessly in my mind, amplified by the cataclysmic sounds now reaching us from outside. I know new fissures are opening, as if parts of the city are being swallowed up. The apocalypse is upon us again, more imminent than ever. And as an echo of that fact, Reginald Hargreeves appears at the end of the hallway, walking toward me over the worn carpets. I sigh. A conversation with him at 3 am is about the last thing I need.

"If you don't sleep, you won't be operational and efficient", he says, eyeing the machine with disdain for its inability to produce proper tea. I look up without moving.
"Why? Do you have specific plans for tomorrow?"

I'm not stupid. I understand perfectly well that activating Oblivion has become urgent for him, for - very soon - we'll all be gone too. I'm terrified, but I actually agree with him. He doesn't smile but responds:

"Your rhetorical questions are absolutely delightful, but you know the answer to this. You know my only goal, at the end of all this turmoil, is to save this world from the Apocalypse, just as I aim to save my planet and my poor people."

I lean back into the battered little couch I'm sitting on. The tone with which Hargreeves delivers this line borders on ridiculous: worse acted than the most terrible dramas Granny used to watch. I already had my doubts when I confronted him about being an alien, regarding his sincerity about restoring his people's fertile lands. Yes. I think there's something else behind all this.

"For someone who never planned to stay on this planet, you've settled in quite comfortably…"

I'm not referring to his ludicrous mansion, no. I'm talking about the fact that The City was literally built around the Hotel Obsidian he erected. About the economic control, the political and ideological influence he has over this megapolis and its branches. About the project I was once tasked with destroying the plans for, the day his Number One from our timeline killed me. The urbanization and megacorporation project that Luther once mentioned under the name 'Project HE', hinting at even greater ambitions.

"I am as much a businessman as I am a traveler", he says. "It's in my nature."
"You're a man of power."

He seems almost flattered by my words, as if thinking I'm complimenting him. Truly, Hargreeves is clueless about human psychology. But for once, that might be my chance.

"Earth societies are fascinating but immature and primitive. I am in a position to elevate them and bring them civilization."

Damn. That alien neocolonialist spiel makes me want to vomit, and it would have sent Granny into a literal rage. And I don't buy it, either.

"You're not doing this for humans, any more than you're doing it for your own kind who followed you here."
"My crew?"
I frown as he adds:
"Don't get me wrong, they were valuable. Without them, I never could have traveled to Earth, where the Portal is located. I do not forget them: they will gain in the end, just as you will too."

I blink at him because I realize he manipulated Iggy and the others just as he manipulated his children. But I think I've also just understood something else: Reginald Hargreeves believes he is not malevolent.

He is power-hungry, what he wants is clearly control over our human societies, perhaps because he couldn't obtain it back on his own planet. But he believes we will all benefit from it in the process. Yes. He is utterly convinced he is working for the greater good. But at what cost?

"You think that lives filled with abuse and apocalypses - for us and for everyone - are fully compensated by the right to live in your pseudo-technocratic utopia afterward?"
"Why wouldn't they be? We are going to rewrite reality as we wish. We will all have the right to find peace at the end of the road, in a brave new world".

I blink, almost shocked by his train of thought, but it makes so much sense now, in the dim light of this rundown motel. Reginald Hargreeves never saw a problem in abusing his children because - for him - they would all eventually get their rest. When he'd get what he wants.

"I'm not sure I want to save this world if it's only going to be a projection of your megalomaniacal delusions."

I was convinced of the necessity of a reset before he walked into this little lounge. And now, every fiber of my being bristles again at the idea of aligning with his plans. He narrows his eyes, studying me through his monocle. And because he senses the shift, perhaps, he redirects the conversation as he always does.

"You and Klaus are like two socks of the same pair, aren't you?"

I freeze. This time, it's not Allison asking. Nor is it Lila, with her blunt questions. No, it's Reginald Hargreeves himself. And I wonder what angle he's working.

"I guess it's obvious…", I say cautiously.
He seems pleased with this answer, which chills me to the bone.
"Why? How does that serve your interests?"

If I've learned anything, it's that everything he says or does is designed to advance his goals. Klaus once told me he didn't care whether his father had any hand in our relationship. If Hargreeves had at least brought that good into his life, then it was fine with him. But today, I'm worried. I'm deeply afraid of how Reginald could use this. And I'm back to doubting whether he intended it.

I don't think he orchestrated our meeting in custody, no, that seems far too improbable. Just as I don't believe he predicted Harlan's act and the appearance of the Kugelblitz. But now, Hargreeves is exploiting this end of the world to hasten the implementation of the reset, I can see it. And I think, in the same way, he has decided to leverage the bond between Klaus and me somehow, down the line. I don't know how, and that's probably the worst part of it all.

"Your interpretations are fascinating", he tells me with vile composure. "But you should join him to recharge your batteries."
"I am not Christopher."

I tremble after saying that, feeling the omnipresence of the Kugelblitz all around us, more painfully than ever. Yes. I am once again filled with unspeakable anger toward Hargreeves for all the suffering he's inflicted on us, even now. On everyone, even Iggy. He can stick his 'brave new world' where it hurts.

"You nearly tricked me", I say as I rise.
"But our so-called 'collaboration' ends here."

-

11:51 am

It took us almost two hours to get back to the city center, weaving through fissures and collapses. Two hours to reach Hargreeves Mansion - once again found in ruins - and another thirty minutes to reach our final refuge. The Hotel Obsidian - now perched on the edge of the world - stands like a last bastion as everything else is swept away.

I needed a moment to take in the long tendrils of matter now being drained by the Kugelblitz, like a massive cosmic parasite feeding itself. I needed to let Klaus and Hargreeves go in alone, to stay behind for a moment and face this monster head-on. Almost as if to challenge it. Because deep down, I'm not ready to give up entirely, for Chris wouldn't have.

Since my conversation with Reginald, my inner resolve has been roaring against playing along with his universal domination plans. But a small voice in the back of my head whispers that we don't need him to set the reset in motion. Yes, it's still the only solution we have and that it has to happen. But without him.

For a while longer, I stand there, near the revolving doors, close to the low wall where Chris once hid, back when the sun still shone, and the light wasn't the orange hue of doomsday. Suddenly, I hear someone outside. A presence I haven't sensed in quite a while.

"Getting some fresh air while there's still some left?", Five asks, carrying three bottles of mead brandy stolen from the bar, which he starts hiding in the thorny bushes behind the wall.
"And you? Stashing your booze like a squirrel so you can drink while staring into the void?"
"Now that Klaus is back, I prefer to be cautious. Besides, I plan to enjoy my final hours properly."

We exchange a look and then sit together on the wall, facing the apocalyptic strands consuming everything.

"Don't tell me you're giving up", I say.

Without a word, he uncorks one of the black bottles, the label bearing the image of a horseman. His silence is answer enough. In a moment, I realize it: he's decided to quit.

"Maybe because I've been destroying my physical and mental health for a month straight, only to make everything worse every single time."

Five's conception of time is always out of proportion with mine. Either far too long, like when he was stuck in the future for decades, or far too short, like now, where my last three years are a mere handful of days to him. He takes another drink.

"Have you heard the story of Nasreddin the Fool and his farting donkey, Rin?"
I raise an eyebrow, and Five sighs at my ignorance.
"A seer told him he'd die the day his donkey farted three times. One day, after eating way too many beans, the donkey started farting."
He drinks again.
"Once. Twice. You can imagine what Nasreddin did."
"Let me guess. He teleported back in time to stop himself from feeding the donkey beans like an idiot, splitting the timeline in two?"
"Close. He shoved a little stick up its butt."
I wrinkle my nose. I have a feeling this story doesn't end well.
"The donkey farted."
"Correct. The stick shot out and lodged itself right between Nasreddin's eyes."

My shoulders sag as I grasp the metaphor, and Five sighs.
"Earlier, Viktor wondered if we're the cause of all this. And I have to admit… part of me is starting to think he's right."

It's devastating to hear him say that, especially since - out of all of us - he's fought the hardest to stop this.

"No. I can't believe you don't have a plan. You're Five, for God's sake."
"Exactly."

His gaze is distant, his expression closed. For the first time, I feel him still. Five, who is always running, always chasing. Suddenly, like a broken clock, he seems to have stopped.

"I watched my hundred-year-old self die at the Commission, Rin. A Commission I founded, by the way - don't laugh."

Too late. I can't help it. It's nervous laughter, but deep down, it doesn't surprise me. I had a strange feeling when I opened one of the Commission's briefcases, that they were designed to mimic Five's time jumps, as if created by someone who 'knew him very well'.

"Your hundred-year-old self…"
"Shriveled, crippled, barely breathing. More machine than man."
"Well, I ended up trapped in a Dyson mini-cube in one timeline, so no judgment here."

Five doesn't laugh. He's deadly serious, and I slowly stop chuckling.

"If you live long enough to reach a hundred, that means… some version of you escapes this Kugelblitz."
He nods.
"Presumably by jumping even further back in time than last time. I clearly founded the Commission in the 1950s. But it doesn't matter now, because he told me…"
He takes a deep breath.
"…not to save the world. Because it's too late now."

My throat tightens, and he looks at me because he knows I understand the fundamentals of timeline divergence.

"No matter what we do, this timeline with the Kugelblitz exists now, doesn't it?"
"Yes. Once this monster is done with this timeline, it will consume the others and all of space-time."

I understand why someone might want one last drink before the end of the world. This realization must hit him hard.

"The Kugelblitz… it's like a fatal error in the machine."
He laughs humorlessly at my comparison.
"In a way, yes. And unfortunately, the cause is our trip to the 1960s and the Grandfather Paradox caused by Harlan Cooper."
My brows knit together.
"Your future self founded the Commission… to stop us from reaching the 60s. To stop us if we did."

It all clicks into place. The moment Viktor passed some of his power to Harlan, the birth of the Kugelblitz was set in stone. That's why the Commission fought so hard to prevent the first 2019 apocalypse, even developing elite units like the ones that shot at us in the Icarus Theater: to keep us from fleeing to the 60s where space-time's fate would be sealed.

And I now understand why the Commission has washed its hands of us in this timeline. Because it's already too late.

"My future self gave it his best shot", Five says, "but he realized it was futile."
I shake my head fiercely.
"There's a way out", I tell him. "I believe there is."

Every machine, even one with a fatal error, can be hard-rebooted. My stomach tightens as I admit this. Slowly, I roll up my sleeve and run my fingers over the Sigil, its black ink with bluish undertones gleaming in the light of the Kugelblitz.

Five sees it and furrows his brow sharply. I can tell immediately that he recognizes the design. Then, to my shock, he unbuttons his shirt and shows me a similar motif tattooed within a pachinko design from the White Buffalo suite, just below the Mothers of Agony symbol.

"You figured it out… about Dad's Oblivion Project", he says quietly, and I blink.
"You too. Your hundred-year-old self…"
"Had this tattoo too. He warned me that in the end, 'all that will remain is Oblivion.'"

We stare at each other, realizing we've converged, even if we took different paths. I don't know how much the Founder told him, if Five understands what the Oblivion Machine's purpose is, or his father's meddling in the universe's affairs.

"Dad still wants to stop the apocalypse, and he to use us to do it. 'Ut Malum Pluvia', right to the end. But me? I'm taking my own advice: I'm not saving the world anymore."

I frown. The Founder told Five that 'all that will remain is Oblivion'? I interpret that differently. I think he was telling Five not to jump back in time to save the world with the Commission again, because the Oblivion Machine… is the only solution. All that will remain, indeed. Honestly, it's such a shame people are always cryptic and mysterious when they're dying.

"Oblivion isn't about saving this world", I tell him. "It's a res—"
"I don't care, Rin. I'm done."

He shakes his head, shutting down any suggestions. And yet, through the reset, it's possible to redefine reality into something desirable and serene, as long as it isn't done with Reginald Hargreeves.

"Five, Oblivion is-"
"It's a one-way trip, Rin. If I've learned anything, it's that Dad was training the Sparrows - and probably us too - knowing full well we wouldn't make it back."
I freeze.
"What?"
"Oblivion is a suicide mission. Diego's been to the other side. He's seen the Guardians that protect whatever's in there. There's no way I'm letting myself or anyone else risk their lives for Dad's comfort and amusement again."

Guardians… I hadn't even considered this aspect of Oblivion's dangerous nature. But Chris warned me about us being 'disposable pawns', and I read it myself in Reginald's notes, scrawled across his notebook in large letters: 'CAUTION: Protection system / Safety'. I swallow hard.

"You're ready to let the universe end, just to spare us from that bastard's final abuse…"

I'm touched by Five's instinct to protect us, to care for us, in his own way. But he's wrong.

"You're wrong, Five, to think our complete erasure is the answer to a lifetime of abuse. And you're wrong about the Old Five's advice. What he told you is that Oblivion is our only salvation now."

A heavy silence falls in the apocalyptic air. I can feel something wavering in him, but he swallows it back. Finally, he caps his bottle and stashes it again.

"I'm out. Don't push me. No Plan C, no B, not even A. You should do the same: enjoy your favorite metal songs, Klaus, and a good coffee."

It irritates me that Five knows me so well after just twenty-eight days of his life. But I sit there, frozen on the wall, turning his words over in my mind. Since this morning, all my certainties have been shaken. And he takes a step toward the revolving doors, heading back to the lobby.

"Luther and Sloane are getting married at 6 pm", he says, with a mix of exasperation and resigned happiness. I nearly choke on a nervous laugh.
"Shit, that's news."

Should I even be surprised? If the end of the world is just hours away, of course they're going to speed things up and live their Shakespearean love story to the fullest. Tragic, whether you find it beautiful or not. Uniting their two families, merging them for good at Oblivion's doorstep, Lila and me included. Under Hargreeves's monocle, who will no doubt try to use it all to his advantage.

"Hope you like rom-coms", Five mutters disillusionedly, taking another step forward, ready to disappear.
"Because they're asking Klaus to officiate."

-

Notes:

This chapter sets up a lot of elements, both for the end of Season 3 and for the future. I wanted to delve deeper into Five's motivations as the Founder for creating the Commission, as they are clearly underexplored in the show. I hope that, like me, you'll feel you better understand that now.

I also needed to plant a seed in Five's mind. In the show, the causal thread that leads him - this time - not to go and found the Commission (after losing his arm) is unclear. Why does he finally resolve to set Oblivion in motion at the last moment? I wanted Rin to be the one to make him think it through here.

I was also interested in exploring Hargreeves's belief that he's doing good, even while pursuing his megalomaniacal plans. Rin has come to understand this clearly. She's torn now, standing at Oblivion's doorstep. But one thing is certain: she refuses to be manipulated any longer.

Any comments will make my day!