Being called a child, while mildly annoying, got no reaction. He was a child physically, and if he got pissy whenever someone condescended to him about it, there’d be a trail of bodies and he’d never get any answers. Condescension aside, the woman had provided intel: two weeks instead of one week until apocalypse, or maybe not? Either way: it could be worse. Finding Vanya specifically shifted up a few places on Number Five’s priority list, along with figuring out who or what had messed with his jump, and how. There was simply no way he’d screwed up the equations that badly.

He pasted a fake (but usually effective) ‘friendly smile’ on his face. “Not really. I always defaulted to Wednesday when someone asked me what day it was.” At HQ, anyway. People hated Wednesdays and only new hires were dumb enough to ask what day it was there. On the job, well... he was always alone. “Never seen this place before, though.” Was this a Commission retirement facility, then? Why wouldn’t they just kill him?