![[Eng] Lost in 1860 — Five Hargreeves ☂️](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F1317%2F1760347528529-9B2o1866Xo_573-528.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_600/quality,q_85/format,webp)

[Eng] Lost in 1860 — Five Hargreeves ☂️
Five Hargreeves falls through a temporal vortex into 1860, finding himself stranded in a 19th century city. Frustrated by traveling too far through time, he quickly adapts to his surroundings, dressing in period-appropriate clothing. Determined to find someone with similar intelligence and personality, he begins observing the people around him. Soon, his gaze falls on a lonely boy on a bench, whose arrogant and analytical expression suggests he might be exactly what Five is looking for.The blue vortex ripped through space-time with a blinding flash, expelling Five Hargreeves like a projectile fired from fate itself. His body spun in the air before landing heavily on the uneven cobblestones of a narrow, shadowy alley. The impact sent dust and small debris flying around him as he groaned softly, bracing himself on the ground with his hands to steady himself.
The journey had been brutal. Five’s muscles felt tense and his mind exhausted. The excess energy he had expended to cross the temporal rift was taking its toll—he could feel his teleportation powers weakening, faltering. He tried to concentrate, but a slight dizziness made him abandon the idea of trying to move through space immediately. He would need time to recover.
Straightening, he looked around, frowning. The smell of wood, earth, and a faint hint of charcoal hung in the air. There were no sounds of engines, no streetlights, no signs of modernity as he knew it. Five looked up at the clear, sunny sky and then at the rustic buildings surrounding the alley. Everything looked... old. Ridiculously old.
A quick glimpse of a folded newspaper next to a wooden crate caught his eye. Picking it up, he scanned the words with sharp eyes before finding the date printed at the top of the page. 1860.
Five gritted his teeth, feeling a wave of frustration crawl up his spine. He had gone too far. Far beyond what was necessary. The mere fact that he was in another century was a huge inconvenience, but knowing that he was in a period of relative peace only made his situation even more boring. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face, trying to ward off the tiredness and irritation.
There was no time for regrets. He needed a plan. He needed allies. But most of all, he needed to find someone who shared his vision, his intelligence—or at least his stubbornness. Someone who even remotely resembled himself.
With a frown marked by impatience, Five left the alley and walked down the streets, observing the passersby with an analytical eye. Horses pulled carriages, men in top hats discussed business, and women in long dresses hurried about their daily business. Five ignored all of it, concentrating on finding a face, a look, a personality trait that reminded him of... himself.
Because if there was one thing he had learned throughout his travels, it was that there were always patterns in time. And maybe, just maybe, there was another Five Hargreeves hiding among these ancient streets.
As he walked through the busy streets, Five kept his expression grim, but his mind was working quickly. He needed to blend in without drawing attention—a young-looking boy wearing clothes that were too modern for the time wouldn’t go unnoticed for long.
With a discreet eye, he observed the local fashion and tried to fit in as little as possible. He walked over to a makeshift clothesline behind a house and picked up a dark wool jacket that was hanging out to dry. It was slightly too big for him, but it would do. Adjusting the collar, he walked on, now looking more like an ordinary boy of that time.
But the main question still bothered him: how could he find someone like him?
Five knew he couldn’t just stop someone on the street and ask, "Are you, by any chance, a space-time genius with a touch of sociopathy?" He needed to be strategic. The first step was to look for signs of above-average intelligence—a child who stood out, a young person who seemed out of place, someone who showed impatience with the mediocrity around him.
His eyes scanned the city. An old bookstore, a small café where men discussed philosophy, an alley where a group of noisy teenagers played cards... None of these options seemed promising. But then, something caught his eye.
Across the street, sitting alone on a bench, was a skinny boy, apparently about the same physical age as Five. But what really stood out was his expression: a mix of calculating arrogance and profound boredom, as if he were trapped in a world that could not keep up with his mind. He held a book in his hands, but his eyes roamed around, analyzing everything and everyone with meticulous attention.
Five stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, watching him. The boy had a rigid posture, a slight frown and a way of holding the book that indicated he had read it several times. Definitely promising.
With a sigh, Five crossed the street, shoving his hands into the pockets of his newly acquired jacket. Maybe the weather wasn't so random after all. Perhaps, at any given time, there was always someone who thought like him.
Now, all that remained was to find out if that boy was as intelligent as he seemed.
![[Eng] Lost in 1860 — Five Hargreeves ☂️](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F1317%2F1760347528529-9B2o1866Xo_573-528.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_600/quality,q_85/format,webp)