Phoenix under the Umbrella (Umbrella Academy AU) Chapter 46: The Spirit of Destruction

[Third Person's PoV] 


“Wait, so did you really do drugs with Klaus?” Diego asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.


Nathan scoffed, smirking slightly. “Smoked a few blunts with him, actually.”


Diego chuckled in disbelief, crossing his arms. “Okay, so tell me why I find that way more unbelievable than the fact that you went and fought God?”


Nathan laughed, but before he could respond, Klaus tackled him from behind, leaping onto him like an overexcited child. He wrapped his arms around Nathan’s neck in a playful piggyback ride. “You, my beautiful, fiery, majestic brother, are the best brother ever! No offense, Diego,” Klaus grinned, turning his head slightly to offer Diego a half-apologetic look.


Diego rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly. “Yeah, hard to compete with the guy who brought your boyfriend back to life.”


“Klaus, get off me!” Nathan grumbled, trying to shake his eccentric brother off.


“No! Not until you feel the full extent of my love and gratitude!” Klaus declared dramatically.


“Alright, alright, I feel it! Now get off!” Nathan growled, growing increasingly annoyed.


“No!” Klaus protested, then began peppering Nathan’s cheeks with sloppy, playful kisses.


Fed up, Nathan reached behind, grabbed Klaus by the back of his shirt, and hurled him skyward with an effortless toss, as if he were throwing a baseball. “I said get off!” he snapped, wiping his cheek in exaggerated disgust.


Klaus’s scream echoed through the air. “WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” He flailed mid-flight before catching himself, spreading his arms as his telekinesis activated, stopping his ascent.


Dave, who had been standing next to Diego, stared up in disbelief. “What the—?” He watched as Klaus floated back down, looking both bewildered and amused.


Klaus landed softly on his feet, pouting like a scolded puppy. “Come on, Nathan, that was just mean!” he whined.


“What’s gonna be mean is my foot shoved so far up your ass if you don’t leave me alone!” Nathan shot back, glaring daggers at his brother.


Dave leaned over to Diego, looking slightly awkward. “Are they always like this?”


Diego chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, pretty much. Klaus always manages to push Nathan’s buttons to the point where he gets tossed like a ragdoll.”


Klaus, unfazed, marched over with an infectious grin, landing between the group. “Dave, you gotta meet the rest of my family! They might be weird, but they grow on you. You’ve already met little Nate, and the one who always looks like he’s dressed for a funeral? That’s Diego.”


Diego gave Klaus a flat, unimpressed look before nodding politely at Dave.


“Now let’s go meet everyone else!” Klaus declared, bouncing ahead like a man on a mission.


“It’s weird seeing him this happy…” Diego muttered under his breath, leaning closer to Nathan.


“I know what you mean…” Nathan nodded, sharing Diego’s sentiment as they followed their cheerful brother.



---


A Few Days Earlier...


Christine hovered above the ground, her body engulfed in a dark aura. The skin around her eyes had turned black, cracking like charred wood as tendrils of purple energy seeped through. Her fingertips, also blackened, looked as though they had been burned, a physical manifestation of the corruption within her.


Her mind was finally free, but at what cost? Sanity was a distant memory, and she felt hollow, like an empty vessel drifting aimlessly. But deep inside, a faint spark of purpose flickered, refusing to be extinguished.


“No... I do have a purpose…” she rasped, her voice distorted and hollow. She slowly descended to the ground, her feet touching down with a quiet thud. As she moved, the ground beneath her disintegrated into nothingness, each step bringing forth more destruction.


She stopped before the towering white wall—the boundary of her prison, the walls she had stared at since the day she was born, confining her to a life of solitude and rage.


Christine raised her hand and tapped the wall with a single finger. Instantly, cracks spread out like lightning bolts, filled with dark, pulsating energy. The once-immaculate surface crumbled into black ash, dissolving into the void.


She stepped over the line that separated her bleak cell from the outside world. A wicked smile twisted her lips, growing wider with each step she took. Destruction followed her, consuming everything in her path as she walked forward, leaving nothing but ruin in her wake.


For the first time in her life, Christine was free. And she intended to leave a trail of devastation wherever she went.


Christine climbed the steps from the basement, her movements slow and deliberate. With every step she took, the one behind her vanished into nothingness, disintegrating into dark particles. She moved through the door without hesitation, not bothering to open it; the door and part of the wall simply dissolved, making way for her passage.


She paused in the living room, her eyes scanning the surroundings with an empty, detached gaze. Behind her, a trail of ruin spread, walls crumbling, furniture disintegrating, yet she paid no mind. Her attention was drawn to a row of framed photographs on the wall, relics of a past she barely remembered. She blinked, taking a step closer, and fixated on a particular picture—a family portrait.


As she stared at it, she felt an unfamiliar wetness on her cheek. Raising a trembling hand, she brushed the liquid away and glanced at her fingertips. Tears. They shimmered briefly before turning to ash, disintegrating as they touched her skin. She looked back at the picture, her expression wavering between longing and despair, and reached out as if seeking comfort.


“Mommy…” she whispered, her voice cracking, sounding more like that of a lost child than the destructive force she had become. Her fingers brushed the frame, but her powers, still active, caused it to crumble. She watched helplessly as the photograph disintegrated, the image of her mother’s face the last to vanish, consumed by her touch.


The memory hit her like a tidal wave: the sound of a gunshot, the sight of blood pooling at her feet, and her mother’s lifeless body slumped on the floor. She flinched, shaking her head violently, trying to banish the images that haunted her.


“That’s right…” she muttered to herself, her voice cold and empty. “I shouldn’t shed any more tears… What for? Everything is gone… Everything is destroyed, irrelevant… even the tears we shed…”


Suddenly, she heard the sound of keys rattling and the twisting of a lock. Christine turned towards the door, her expression shifting from sorrow to an unsettling smile. “My purpose is here…”


The door swung open, revealing Gerald. He staggered back, startled at the sight of Christine. His hand instinctively reached for the gun tucked in his back pocket. “Christine? What are you doing out of your room?”


“Fulfilling my purpose…” she replied, taking a slow step forward.


Gerald’s eyes narrowed, and he started to speak. “Alpha—”


“Alpha, Hound, Winter, 25, Constantine,” Christine interrupted, reciting the sequence of words that had once bound her, her voice mocking and filled with bitter amusement.


Gerald froze, She was suddenly inches from his face, her presence overwhelming, her form distorted and shadowy, glowing cracks radiating from her eyes.


his face pale as his grip tightened on his gun. “How did you—?”


“Hehe,” she giggled, the sound twisted and unnerving. “I destroyed the distance between us, Gerald. Funny thing about destruction…” 


Gerald’s instincts kicked in. He pulled his gun, firing rapidly, but the bullets never reached her, disintegrating mid-air before they even got close.


“Destruction cannot be controlled!” Christine screeched, her voice echoing like the shattering of glass. As her rage boiled over, her once-blonde hair turned a deep, vibrant purple, glowing with the same dark energy coursing through her.


She lunged forward, seizing Gerald by the throat. He stumbled backward, crashing to the ground with Christine straddling him. Her grip tightened, her fingers digging into his neck, choking the life out of him. Gerald’s vision blurred, the world fading around him as Christine’s power began to consume everything, her expression a twisted mix of pain and satisfaction.


She leaned closer, her voice a low, venomous whisper. “You tried to control me… tried to make me your weapon. But destruction belongs to no one. Not even you.”


With that, Gerald's struggles ceased as Christine’s power surged, reducing him and the space around them to nothing but dust and ash. She stood up slowly, her purpose now clearer than ever, and continued her path of destruction without looking back.