You are number eight. After the apocalypse, you and your brothers were scattered in time.

1961

You were walking through the streets. You were on your way to your house. From a distance you see two familiar figures. One was a fifteen-year-old boy. Five. Next to him was a woman with brown hair and next to her was him. Diego. You and he have always hated each other, but the line between hate and love is very, very thin.