Chapter 1: The Unexpected Arrival
On the same extraordinary day in October 1989 that forty-three women around the world spontaneously gave birth, Sir Reginald Hargreeves found himself with not seven, but eight unusual infants under his highly unusual adoption scheme. While seven of these infants manifested their abilities in dramatic fashion, teleporting across rooms, levitating toys, or speaking to the departed, the eighth arrival was… fast. Very fast.
Number Eight, as he was eventually and unceremoniously designated, was a whirlwind in miniature. From the moment he was brought to the mansion, a blur of chubby limbs and wide, curious eyes, he was a constant source of low-grade chaos. Toys would zoom across the nursery floor, seemingly propelled by an invisible force. Cribs would rattle and shift inches from their original positions. The robotic nanny, a marvel of early 21st-century engineering, frequently malfunctioned, its internal processors struggling to track the sheer velocity of the child.
His durability was discovered quite by accident. A particularly enthusiastic dash across the polished marble floor resulted in a head-on collision with a sturdy oak table leg. While any normal infant would have likely sustained a significant bump, Number Eight simply bounced off, giggling as if it were the most delightful game. Sir Reginald, observing the incident through the nursery's one-way mirror, made a note in his ever-present journal: "Subject Eight: Apparent resistance to blunt force trauma. Further observation required."
The other Hargreeves siblings, as they began to develop their own unique quirks, regarded Number Eight with a mixture of fascination and mild annoyance. Luther, solid and dependable even as a toddler, often found his carefully constructed block towers demolished in an instant by a passing red streak. Diego, with his uncanny aim, found it impossible to target the fleeting form for any of their father's early "training exercises." Allison would try to rumour him into sitting still, only to find him vibrating with barely contained energy. Klaus claimed the spirits were particularly agitated around the "zooming one." Five, even in his early experiments with spatial jumps, couldn't quite predict Number Eight's trajectory. Ben remained mostly hidden behind his books, perhaps wisely choosing to avoid the unpredictable blur. And Vanya… Vanya often watched him with a quiet curiosity, a silent observer of the organized chaos that was their early lives.
Reginald Hargreeves, ever the pragmatist, struggled to quantify Number Eight's abilities. Super speed was… straightforward, in theory. But the seemingly impenetrable resilience that accompanied it presented a unique set of challenges and, perhaps, opportunities. He began devising specialized training regimens, attempting to harness the boy's kinetic energy, often with frustrating and occasionally destructive results. The mansion, with its antique furnishings and delicate architecture, bore the silent scars of Number Eight's early development.
One afternoon, as the seven older siblings were engaged in a particularly loud argument over a disputed television remote, a small red blur zipped past them, snagged the remote mid-air, and deposited it neatly back in its cradle before anyone could fully register what had happened. Number Eight, perched innocently on an overturned toy chest, simply grinned, a gap-toothed smile that somehow managed to convey both mischief and utter obliviousness. In that moment, despite the constant headaches and property damage, even Sir Reginald might have glimpsed the raw, untamed potential of his eighth acquisition. The Umbrella Academy, it seemed, was even more unconventional than he had initially anticipated