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❛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀ & ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ-ɴᴏᴛ-sᴏ-ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ꒱

❝ THIS IS THE SPARROW ACADEMY ❞

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00:00:00:12:12:13

The timer had been ticking down steadily for days now as the celebration of her marriage neared. Astra dreaded the thought of tying herself to someone who wasn't her soulmate— who would never be her soulmate, especially since she was apparently so close to meeting the person that she was destined for. But, she was a princess— she would be a queen, and as much as she had argued with her siblings over the past few days about her impending 'death sentence' as she called it, but they remained absolute.

The carriage trundled closer to the palace and her mounting dread only grew. In only a few hours' time she would be marrying a man that she did not know and would never love. She could run, but the carriage would catch up to her quickly, especially with how encumbered by skirts she was. Ben stared at her across the opposite seat imperiously, almost daring her to try something. Sloane's expression was far more sympathetic. Fei remained impassive. Astra sighed and turned her gaze to the passing countryside instead, upholding the cold-shoulder she'd been giving her siblings recently.

00:00:00:05:02:01

There was not much time left until she would be doomed to meet her soulmate on the same day she would be getting married. A part of her dreaded it and wished she could hide the countdown behind a pair of silken gloves, but the other part of her felt overjoyed. Maybe her soulmate would sweep her off her feet and rescue her! But even as she thought it, she knew it wouldn't be wise; she would be queen, and her soulmate would likely be punished for his actions.

00:00:00:00:45:00

On any other occasion, the crowd of people gathered beneath the balcony would have made her glow with excitement. They were all here to see her, after all, and it had always been her dream to be famous. But she never wanted it like this— her renown tied to her family and their name. Instead, the crowd of onlookers made her stomach tie in knots, a leaden feeling weighing her down at the thought of being chained forever.

Their anticipatory chatters filled the air, eager to see their new queen. They were all dressed in their best gowns and newest suits to impress the royal family, but none of the finery mattered to her— well, it did, since she enjoyed it, but not now. Not in this case. There was so much weight. The wedding band was not yet on her finger but she could already feel it tethering her in place, tying her to a destiny that she could not escape from.

00:00:00:00:15:30

She couldn't take it any more. She couldn't breathe in this tight corset and she couldn't think with all those eyes soon to be upon her. Astra was fated to meet her soulmate in fifteen minutes, and she could not bear to have it happen during her wedding ceremony. So, she did the only thing she could think of: she fled.

She raced down the polished wooden steps, her feet flew over the rich, thick carpets. She shoved the doors open and burst out into the warm sunlight. The fresh air had never felt more rejuvenating. It might've been unladylike for someone to see their almost-queen in such a flight, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

00:00:00:00:05:30

Her escape brought her to the end of a garden pathway. Manicured bushes lined either side and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air. Astra's only thoughts, however, were focused on fleeing the castle. A wisteria bush the same height as the wall stood in front of her, easily climbable with its many branches. It only took her a second to gather her skirts and start the ascent towards the top.

"Uh, hello, my lady," a male's voice greeted her. "Are you in need of assistance of some kind?"

She turned, but his face remained shrouded in shadow as he stayed within the shade of an overgrown arch. "I'm quite fine, thank you. You can go back inside and wait with all the other gawkers."

"I. . . will, but first, I'm curious— what are you doing?"

"Nothing," she replied with a grunt as she tried to find a purchase on the next branch.

"You're. . . doing something. . ."

"I am not."

"You are."

"I am not!"

"You are."

Astra finally returned to the cobbled pathway. "If you must know, I'm trying to ascertain the best way to climb over the garden wall."

"Climb— whatever for?"

"Because I think he may be a beast."

The man let out an incredulous scoff. "A beast?"

"Or a troll."

"Who are we discussing?"

Now it was her turn to scoff. "Oh, well that is impertinent. None of your business." A pause, and then: "the king. No one will speak of him. No one. And I'm supposed to meet my soulmate in only a minutes' time, and I simply do not know what to think of this day. Now, I require your help to get over this garden wall."

"I have no intention of helping you."

She turned to face him finally, but she still could not tell his features. "You refuse to help a lady in distress?"

"I refuse to help a lady in distress go over a wall so she does not have to marry me."

His words made her freeze. There was a tug deep in her stomach, past all of the dread and fear, as if a puzzle piece was finally settling in place so the entire picture could be seen. With her heart in her throat, Astra flipped her wrist over to check the numbers on her soulmate counter: 00:00:00:00:00:00

Alarms blaring in her eardrums shook Astra from the daze she was trapped in front of the mirror of her vanity. It happened frequently; she zoned out randomly during the day. She often daydreamed about what it would be like to meet her soulmate one day, but she wasn't sure if it would ever happen. She comforted herself with these fantasies, where he was a mysterious figure shrouded in mist, but kind and warm all the same. He would save her from a burning building or a dragon's lair or he was a king that was more benevolent than she'd expected. But, the one thing that tied all of her daydreams together was this: her timer worked.

Everyone had a soulmate timer which counted down the hours until they met their other half. Some were born with 00:00:00:00, indicating that they had no soulmate, like her sister Fei. Others had to wait years upon years until the countdown cleared out. Her timer, however, was frozen— just like her sister Sloane's. They even had similar dates despite the numbers never moving, with Astra's being:

00:00:00:03:13:14

Astra sighed as the detailed universe she'd imagined shattered around her. The alarms meant nothing to her— she never went on missions anymore. Why? Well, she burned and almost blinded a group of civilians with her powers. It wasn't her fault; Ben was the one who kept bothering her until she finally snapped in front of those unfortunate people. Anyway, that was years ago (two years and three months to be exact, but who was counting?). The point was that she didn't need to react to the alarm. However, she was curious about what the problem was since missions didn't happen often anymore. Apparently, no one was brave enough to challenge the Sparrow Academy.

Out of habit, she checked the numbers on her wrist, expecting them to still be frozen. She did a double-take when the 14 on the end slid to 13. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the five digits and continued to stare as it turned into a 12. Her chest felt tight as she watched the 11 appear. She would have kept gaping at the changing numbers all day but her other sister, Jayme, came to stand in the doorway. "Hey princess, get out here."

Astra rolled her eyes. "I thought I wasn't allowed on missions anymore."

"Dad's orders," Jayme responded, arms crossed.

Her brow quirked in surprise. Reginald Hargreeves never called on her for anything, making the request peculiar. "How odd. . . Why? What's so special about this mission?"

"You'll see," Jayme replied before walking away.

While Astra was used to her sister's cryptic answers, there was something about this particular situation that seemed strange. The confident exterior Jayme normally had seemed to waver, replaced by a trace of confusion that lingered in her eyes, though she hid it well. It wasn't fear, Astra discerned, but rather a sense of unease, as if even Jayme herself was grappling with the unknown. If Astra wasn't curious before, she definitely was now. She followed her sister, the soft tapping of her short block heels echoing in the corridor. The click of Astra's shoes resonated with a rhythm that mirrored the beating questions in her mind. Why was Reginald calling her back into the fold after years of exclusion?

She joined her siblings on the balcony above the living room to take in the rather ragged group of intruders. There was a very tall, ape-like man, another, shorter one who wielded knives and a third who was wearing a cowboy hat. The fourth was the shortest of them all, with young, teenage features. Despite the grime and exhaustion that clung to his face, he was obviously attractive; she could see his bright, green eyes even from this distance and his prominent jawline made him stand out from the rest of the group. The remaining two were women— one wore opera gloves and the other had lank, brown hair.

Astra stood proudly with her siblings; for all of their differences— both in appearance and points of view— they could always show a united front when the time called for it. They would never appear as disheveled as this group of strangers did.

The woman in opera gloves spoke, disbelief clear in her voice. "What are you talking about? This is the Umbrella Academy."

"Wrong again," Reginald corrected her. "This is the Sparrow Academy."

Ben stalked forward to stand in front of the newcomers. He sneered at them, choosing to address his father instead. "Dad, who the hell are these assholes?'

"Shit," came the collective, despairing curse from the group.

The ape-like man stepped forward with a look of shock on his face. "Ben. Is that really you?"

"And who are the weirdos on the balcony?" the man with the knives yelled, glaring up at the other members of the Sparrow Academy.

Astra bristled at the accusation— he was the weirdo here: he'd broken into their home, without invitation, and was demanding that they (the Sparrow Academy) were the intruders. Reginald answered for them, his tone calm even as the others became aggravated. "They are the Sparrows. My children."

She snorted at his response. That's probably the first time he's ever mentioned we were family outside of the press.

The opposing groups continued to glare at each other as the air filled with hostile tension. But, Astra's attention was soon pulled elsewhere. It seemed as if the moment her father announced their reason for being, the house around them began to shake. None of her other siblings seemed to register what was happening, but Astra could feel the vibrations deep within her bones. Energy crackled into life around her— none that could be seen, but she felt it as it singed the hairs on her arms. It was almost like she had stuck a fork in an electrical socket as the volts of electricity zipped through her. It wasn't painful, exactly, just an awareness that something that used to be right had now been knocked out of place.

The brunette glanced at her siblings to try and alert them of this new development, but their gazes still remained focused on the group below. Jayme was the only one who moved as she shifted her weight and crossed her arms. Astra leaned over to Sloane, who was closest. "Did you feel that?"

Her sister didn't look away from the living room, but murmured, "feel what?"

"That surge of energy. It was like lightning struck the building. You're telling me you didn't sense that?"

When the fifth Sparrow shook her head, she turned to Fei. "Hey, Fei—"

"Quiet," the other woman hissed. "It might've been too long since you were last on a mission with us, but remember your place. We don't speak until the fight."

Astra shot her an irritated look and fell into a grumpy silence. She would've pressed her point regardless, but it seemed like no one had picked up the energy she'd felt, anyway, so it seemed like her question was already answered.

"I'm sorry," the teenage boy spoke, his tone sharp and entirely unapologetic. "What do you mean 'your children?' That's not possible, old man."

"Of course it is! I think I'd know, wouldn't I?" As Reginald spoke, the Sparrows on the balcony joined Ben on the living room floor in a solid wall in a show of strength.

The man in the cowboy hat seemed unbothered by the rising pressure between the two groups; he was focused elsewhere entirely. He pointed at Ben in wonder. "Everybody else can see Ben, right?"

"Cute hat, Sundance," was the snarky reply he received.

Reginald ignored their interaction to inform the Sparrow Academy of the new perceived foe they faced: "they call themselves the Umbrella Academy, a group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of 1963 when I was away on business in Dallas. Be warned, they claim to be my spawn."

The woman in opera gloves was not pleased to hear this, and she stalked forward imperiously. "Claimed? Look, Five, what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know yet," the boy— Five— admitted reluctantly. "But it is concerning."

Astra's gaze was drawn to the teenager, who was the only other person her age in the room. She liked the way he held himself; despite his obvious weariness, he wasn't giving up. She could tell that if— when— it came down to it, he wouldn't back down from a fight, if it was unavoidable, no matter how drained he felt. He carried himself with someone who was far more familiar in his form than a teenager had any right to be— just like her.

Ever the diplomat, Marcus allowed the other group a chance to speak. "Is he telling the truth?"

"Not the part about us being perfidious."

The man in the cowboy hat scoffed. "We're amatuer-fidious at best."

"But we are his children," the woman continued. "This is our house."

"Yeah, yeah," the ape-like man agreed. "We, uh, grew up here."

"We grew up here," Alphonso mocked him.

Growing bored of their quips, Astra subtly turned her wrist to look at the countdown timer. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw that no, it hadn't frozen in place. It now read: 00:00:00:03:10:03. Three minutes closer to meeting her soulmate, she thought, feeling a little dizzy at the idea. For her entire life, her timer had read the same numbers, and now they were changing. It was surreal. She glanced over at Sloane, wondering if her timer had started moving too. She would have to ask once all this was over.

"I kind of think we would have noticed you," Sloane spoke, which caught the big guy's tension. He seemed stunned for a moment before he started to smile.

"Hi. I'm Luther." He held out his hand for a handshake, seemingly forgetting what was happening around him. Sloane didn't greet him back but Astra saw the tiny smile that played on her lips.

The moment (if you could even call it that) was interrupted by the glove-wearing woman as she walked forward. "Okay. None of you belong here."

"Oh!" Fei exclaimed, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "well, then. I guess we'll just pack our bags and move out."

Christopher agreed with a joke that made the siblings laugh.

"You slay me, Chris," Ben said. Right after, Grace walked into the room carrying a plate of cookies in her hands.

"I wasn't expecting company," the robot started, her voice shaking as she looked around the room, "this is the best I could do on short—" Her voice grew deeper and more robotic as she malfunctioned. "—short. . . Short notice."

The man with knives pushed past the others to get closer to Grace. "Mom," he breathed out in shock.

It was strange. His entire demeanor seemed to soften when he saw her and he called her mom. None of Astra's siblings did that except for her.

"Mom?" Jamie echoed. "She's a robot, you perv."

Astra furrowed her brows and gave the dark-haired girl a look. "I call her mom too? Does that make me a perv?" Jamie spared her a glance but her attention was drawn back to the man.

"It's not a robot," he protested.

"Hey," the ape-man, now known as Luther, added, "don't you call him that."

"Or what?" Ben taunted.

"Why don't you come closer and find out?"

Astra rolled her eyes as both groups started throwing insults at each other, their voices overlapping and becoming jumbled noise in her ears. She couldn't believe that this was the first mission she was invited to after two years. She scoffed; it was more of a pissing contest than a mission.

"Enough!" Marcus' voice tore through her thoughts, making her turn back to the scene in front of her. "I don't know what circus you escaped from or how you got past our security, but we're done here." The authority in his tone made everyone stop. "You've got thirty seconds to get out of our house."

"And if we don't?" the gloved woman demanded, crossing her arms.

Marcus stepped forward challengingly. "Then we'll have to settle this the old-fashioned way."