The dawn was just beginning to light the sky when the call came through—the Commission was launching a full-scale assault on one of their key safe houses. The family gathered quickly, the air thick with tension and urgency. This was no longer a skirmish; it was a battle for survival.
Zero stood at the center, the weight of leadership settling heavily on his shoulders. His control over time, his secret advantage, would be their greatest weapon—but also their greatest risk.
(One chance. One moment. One chance to turn the tide.)
The safe house was a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city, fortified but vulnerable. The Commission's agents arrived in overwhelming numbers, their weapons gleaming with deadly intent. The siblings moved swiftly into position, their powers flaring in the pre-dawn light.
Diego's blades cut through the advancing soldiers with lethal precision. Luther's strength shattered walls and barriers, creating openings and traps. Allison's voice bent minds, turning enemies against one another. Klaus summoned spirits that sowed confusion and fear.
Zero kept watch, his senses extending into the flow of time itself. He counted seconds, predicted movements, felt the faintest shifts in the battle's rhythm.
When the enemy closed in, Zero acted.
With a deep breath, he stopped time.
Everything froze—the soldiers mid-attack, bullets suspended in air, the very world holding its breath.
In that frozen moment, Zero moved swiftly among them, disabling weapons, repositioning his siblings, setting the battlefield in perfect alignment.
The strain of maintaining the time stop was immense; he felt it clawing at his mind and body. But he held on, knowing this was the difference between victory and annihilation.
Time snapped back.
Chaos erupted.
The siblings struck with coordinated fury, exploiting every advantage Zero's intervention had created. The Commission's forces faltered, caught off guard by the precision and power of the Hargreeves.
Zero's eyes blazed with determination as he extended his powers, slowing time in pockets—creating zones where the siblings moved like ghosts, untouchable and swift.
The battle raged on, brutal and unforgiving. Injuries were taken, sacrifices made. But the family held their ground, their bond forged stronger in the heat of combat.
In the end, the Commission retreated, their assault broken and their morale shaken.
As the dust settled, Zero collapsed to his knees, drained but triumphant.
His siblings gathered around, weary but alive.
Five clapped him on the shoulder. "You saved us again."
Zero smiled faintly. "We saved each other."
That night, as they tended wounds and planned their next move, Zero knew their fight was far from over. But for the first time, he felt truly part of the family—a brother not just by number, but by choice.
(Time was no longer his prison. It was their battlefield, and together, they would win.)