Isaac nodded and followed her out.
The morning air was cool, and the sky was faintly gray. They crossed the narrow corridor that led to the backyard, where a few old training dummies stood waiting.
The yard was empty, except for a tall woman standing at the front.
Their Mother.
She wore her usual long white coat, her hair tied back neatly. She looked calm, but her eyes missed nothing.
"Everyone, line up," she said.
Catherine stood straight beside Isaac. The others joined, one by one, until the line was full.
"Today," Mother began, "we will review survival methods and close combat. Remember, this is not just training. Out there, a small mistake means death."
She demonstrated movements — blocking, stepping, turning — and the children copied her, their bare feet thudding softly against the dirt.
Isaac tried to keep up, his body small but quick. He focused on the way her hands moved, the way her weight shifted before each strike.
Hours passed like that. Combat lessons, monster identification, and survival tips. Mother taught with precision. Her tone was calm. She was never harsh, but her eyes were always watchful.
When class ended, the children scattered. Some went to clean weapons, others to the small garden.
Today was counseling day. Each child would get time alone with Mother.
Catherine was called first.
Isaac roamed around the yard, kicking at pebbles. He was bored after a while, so he decided to wait for Catherine near the counseling room.
The hallway outside was quiet. The door to Mother’s office was slightly open.
Isaac hesitated but then took a step closer.
He could hear their voices.
"Lastly, how is your mission going?" Mother asked.
"It is proceeding smoothly," Catherine said. Her voice was calm, and polite.
"Have you gained any useful information about Isaac?"
"Not yet, Mother. But he trusts me completely now. If he’s hiding something, I’ll know soon."
Isaac froze.
His heart dropped, his breath catching in his throat.
He didn’t want to believe what he just heard.
"Good," Mother said softly. "Continue monitoring him. Don’t forget, even if he’s just a low-rank species, his arrival here was strange. Our orphanage is protected by powerful spells. No one should be able to approach without permission. Whoever dropped him here was someone powerful. There must be a reason he was brought here."
"Couldn’t it be that they just wanted him to grow up safely?" Catherine asked.
Mother chuckled faintly. "This is not a normal orphanage, my daughter. If his parents wanted him to live a normal life, they would’ve sent him elsewhere. No, he was sent here for a purpose. Maybe as a spy. Though I can’t imagine how a child like him could serve as one."
"Understood, Mother."
Before Catherine could step out, Isaac quickly turned and ran. His feet barely made a sound on the dirt floor as he dashed toward the playground.
He sat down under an old tree, breathing hard, trying to calm himself. His mind spun in circles.
When Catherine finally came out, she spotted him sitting there.
"Isaac," she called. "It’s your turn for counseling."
He looked up slowly.
"Go on," she said with a smile. "And behave properly in front of Mother, okay?"
Isaac nodded faintly. His face was pale.
Catherine tilted her head, frowning slightly. "You okay?"
"I’m fine," he said quietly and stood up.
She watched him walk away, puzzled by how quiet he was.
Isaac reached the door and stopped for a second before pushing it open.
Inside, the room was neat and warm. Shelves filled with old books lined the walls, and sunlight fell through the single window.
Mother sat at her desk, a small smile on her face.
"Isaac," she said gently, "did you get too shocked after hearing that?"
Isaac froze in place.
His mind went blank.
Mother chuckled softly. "You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice you there, did you?"
She stood up and walked behind him. Her steps were light. She leaned down and lightly squeezed his cheeks between her fingers.
"You are a strange one," she said, smiling. "As you already heard — or rather, as I allowed you to hear — your arrival at our orphanage was... interesting. That’s why I accepted you here."
Isaac sat still, unable to move.
"Do you want to know what else is strange about you?" she asked.
Isaac could barely breathe.
Did she really let him hear that conversation on purpose? Why?
"Isaac?" she said again.
"I... I want to know, Mother," he stammered.
It was the first time he had ever felt true fear in front of her. Normally, she was kind, and warm. But right now, her smile looked different. It didn’t reach her eyes.
She leaned forward, her tone still calm. "You are not even ten. For a human, that’s very young. Yet your mind is sharper than most adults. You learn fast, you analyze, you observe. Maybe it’s just a trait of yours. Or maybe," she said softly, "there’s something more behind it."
Isaac tried to keep his expression still, but his hands were trembling.
Mother walked around and spun his chair toward her, crouching down to his level. Her eyes met his.
Then, she cupped his face with both hands. Her smile didn’t fade.
"I’ve been patient for several years already, Isaac. I thought you would show something special by now. But you haven’t. If you continue like this," she said in a quiet, clear tone, "we’ll have to dispose of you."
The air in the room seemed to freeze.
She didn’t say it with anger or hatred. Just simple certainty.
She continued, "Do you remember your sister Catherine? She will be the one to do it when I give the order."
Isaac stared at her, wide-eyed.
"So," she said, brushing a strand of his hair aside, "either start working hard and show me something worth keeping... or we’ll remove you."
Her voice was almost gentle. Almost.
Isaac’s body trembled uncontrollably. He felt cold, though sunlight still streamed through the window.
Yet somehow, his mouth moved.
"W-why?" he whispered.
Isaac sat frozen in his chair, his body stiff and his throat dry.
Mother smiled gently, her tone calm as if she was explaining something simple. "Why am I telling you this? Isaac, in ancient times, people used to awaken through trauma. They called it Talent Awakening, Bloodline Awakening, Physique Awakening, and the other types. All of them needed a powerful mental shock to happen. A hardship that shakes the soul."
Her voice was quiet, but her words felt heavy.
"Of course, Isaac. I don’t want my children to go through hardship. That’s why I tried. I tried my best for you."
Isaac stared at the floor, unable to meet her eyes.
"For years," Mother went on, pacing slowly behind him, "I’ve let you live the way you wanted. I gave you food, shelter, and comfort. I gave you the freedom others didn’t get."
Her tone grew colder. "But you’ve only disappointed me."
Isaac’s hands gripped his knees tightly.
"You’ve shown me nothing. Nothing that makes me think keeping you here, at the Three Colors Orphanage, is worth it. Honestly, I should have disposed of you long ago, to stop wasting resources."
Isaac felt his stomach twist.
Then she sighed. "But I love you, Isaac. I love all my children."
Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. "So I’ll give you this chance. I hope this mental shock is enough to awaken something in you."
She leaned closer, her voice soft but sharp at the same time. "Show me something, Isaac. Anything. Or else..."
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.
Her silence was louder than any threat.
Isaac nodded quickly, unable to speak. His heart pounded in his ears.
Mother smiled again, gentle as ever. "Good boy," she said. Then she turned away. "You may go."
Isaac stood up slowly, his legs trembling, and left the room.
He didn’t even remember how he reached his bed. Everything after that was a blur. The hallways, the dinner, the whispers of the other children. Nothing registered in his mind.
He ate in silence that night.
Catherine tried to talk to him at dinner, but he barely replied. He kept his eyes on his plate, chewing slowly, forcing the food down.
When it was bedtime, he finished his homework quietly and lay down early.
The large dorm hall was dimly lit, rows of small beds lined up against both walls. The sound of soft breathing and rustling sheets filled the air.
But Isaac couldn’t sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Mother’s smile. That same calm smile hiding something terrifying behind it.
He turned on his side. Then again.
His heart kept beating fast. His palms were sweating. His whole body trembled even though the night wasn’t cold.
He pulled the blanket over his head, but it didn’t help.
Then a soft voice came from the next bed. "Isaac? Can’t sleep?"
It was Catherine.
He froze.
Her bed was right beside his. Normally, if he couldn’t sleep, he would quietly climb into her bed. She would hold him until he drifted off. It had always been like that.
But tonight, he couldn’t move.
Because now he knew the truth.
Catherine wasn’t really his sister. Not the way he thought.
She was watching him. Reporting about him. He was just her mission target.
All the kids at the orphanage were trained. Some as spies, others as warriors. That much he already knew. But hearing that she was spying on him, that she was pretending to care, made his chest hurt more than anything else.
And yet... a small part of him still hoped she really did care.
That maybe, just maybe, the mission was just a cover, and her kindness was real.
Catherine shifted slightly on her bed. She said softly, "If you can’t sleep. I’ll sing your favorite lullaby."
Isaac didn’t reply.
He heard the creak of her bed as she got up and walked over to his. She sat down beside him, her shadow faint under the moonlight leaking through the window. She smiled, brushing his hair aside.
"You used to ask for this all the time when you were little," she said quietly.
Her voice was gentle. Too gentle.
Isaac’s throat tightened, but he didn’t stop her.
Catherine started singing in a faint voice. The same lullaby she used to hum when he couldn’t sleep after bad dreams.
The soft melody filled the silence. It wasn’t perfect — her voice cracked here and there — but it was familiar.
Isaac stared at the ceiling, eyes open. He wanted to tell her to stop. He wanted to ask her why she lied.
But the words didn’t come out.
He stayed still as she kept patting his head gently.
Slowly, the sound of her voice blended with the rhythm of her hand. His body relaxed without meaning to.
The fear in his chest dulled a little. His eyelids grew heavy.
He tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, but sleep came anyway.
His last thought before drifting off was a quiet one — a question that wouldn’t leave him alone.
Was she lying now too?
When Isaac woke up the next morning, sunlight was already spilling across the dorm floor. The other kids were getting dressed and folding their blankets. Catherine was gone.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. His mind was cloudy. For a moment, he almost thought last night was a dream.
Then he remembered.
Mother’s voice. Her smile. Her words.
"Show me something, Isaac. Anything. Or else..."
The air felt heavier all of a sudden.
He got up and dressed silently. Catherine returned soon after, holding two bowls of porridge.
Her eyes had dark circles, and she was yawning.
It was clear she was tired due to missing sleep last night, yet she smiled at Isaac.