The next day, after finishing cleaning up after lunch, I knocked on the door, and after she told me to come in, I stretched, turned the handle, and entered the sanctuary of our executioner.
Once the door was closed, I put my hands in my pockets and approached Emilia, who stood looking at me with a soft smile that didn't reach her cold, calculating eyes.
—You're late —Emilia said with her arms crossed, while a stack of documents adorned her desk. I wondered how many of those papers contained the sealed fates of my companions.
—I was talking with Cassie —I replied as I approached her, keeping my face carefully neutral.
—And? What's wrong with her? —Her tone feigned maternal concern, a mask I had learned to see through long ago.
—Nothing out of the ordinary. She's focused on escaping as soon as possible —I revealed, knowing this small betrayal was necessary to maintain my privileged position. A position that would give us the advantage we needed.
—I see, she's still a naive child —she commented with a hint of condescension that ignited my inner anger.
I held Emilia's gaze and tried not to roll my eyes. Every encounter with her was a test of my deception skills, a deadly chess game where a single wrong move would mean our downfall.
—Do you really think you'll hand her over just like that? —I narrowed my eyes as I stared at Emilia, searching for any sign of doubt or remorse in her inhuman face.
—Oh, don't look at me like that. You're too young… —she let out a theatrical sigh, as if I were the one who didn't understand the complexities of the world.
Forcing what I hoped was a sympathetic but slightly incredulous smile, I opened my mouth:
—Come on, we both know how important Cassie is to you.
My words made her smile dangerously, and she lifted her head to look me directly in the eyes. I felt her gaze pierce through me, searching for cracks in my armor.
—And here I thought, of all the children here, you were the most rational, Arceus —Emilia smiled sadly and looked away, as if my naivety disappointed her.
—Between the girl you raised as if she were your own daughter and your life, what would you choose, child?
Rage, anguish, helplessness, and pain flooded Emilia's face as she laughed mockingly. For a moment, I thought I saw something human in her, a flicker of genuine suffering quickly hidden behind her mask of coldness.
There was no right or wrong answer to that question. It wasn't my place to judge this woman's actions; she was just another person trying to survive… Or so I told myself to justify my own duplicity.
I held back a sigh, knowing I was treading on very delicate ground.
—So… Why did you tell us the deadline? —If they were going to take Cassie in a week, it made no sense for Emilia to have told us if she really intended to hand her over. She wouldn't have said anything, and Cassie would still believe she had a month to escape.
—Are you judging me? —Emilia narrowed her eyes dangerously, making me frown. Her response chilled my heart and hardened my smile.
—Of course not —I shook my head, hiding the frustration I felt at her evasiveness.
—Well, take care of Cassie in the meantime —Emilia stepped forward and gently stroked my cheek. I forced myself not to recoil from her touch, though my skin prickled as if touched by ice.
—Yes, Mom —I replied, the word bitter as poison on my tongue.
Walking around her desk, Emilia ruffled my hair in a gesture of false affection that made me feel dirty.
Understanding that I could now leave, I dragged my feet out of the small office and walked heavily down the hallway toward the bedroom. Each step away from her was a small relief, a stolen moment of freedom.
I recalled the conversation I had yesterday with my two friends, where we agreed on our respective tasks.
Reinhardt had agreed to convince the other children in the orphanage, while Cassie developed a master plan based on all the information we had gathered. They didn't ask anything of me, as I had already done enough for them. On the contrary, since I had been unconscious and bedridden, my friends asked me to rest and prepare to search for the artifact that night with them.
After leaving the Tower of Paradise, I realized I could enter the tower whenever I wanted.
Since I awoke in the tower, it recognized me as a user, and as long as I could complete the assigned floor's mission, I could enter and leave whenever I wished.
That was a great advantage, an ace up my sleeve that not even my closest friends fully knew.
The sharp creak of the floor beneath my feet snapped me out of my thoughts.
I knelt on the misaligned old wooden plank and put it back in place. I tested the floor with my feet and nodded with satisfaction at the plank's silence. Small details like this could make the difference between life and death when the time came.
Looking up, I saw a group of children running down the hallway, chasing each other. Their laughter painfully reminded me of what was at stake, what we would all lose if we failed.
—Arceus! I'm going to tag you! —said a girl named Annie, laughing as she walked toward me with her arms outstretched.
—Oh yeah? —I stuck out my tongue, allowing myself a moment of lightness—. I bet you won't!
Annie accepted the challenge and quickened her pace. As soon as I was within her reach, she swung at my waist, hoping to grab my shirt, but I escaped easily, my body moving with an agility born of years of practice and survival.
I let out a victorious laugh.
—You're going to have to try harder than… —I darted to my right, just in time to dodge little Thomas's hand. My heart filled with a strange mix of joy and melancholy as I joined in this innocent game, knowing what lurked in the shadows.
The rest of the children Annie had been playing with joined in, deciding they were all the "heroes" of this impromptu game of tag. Their laughter echoed down the hallway, oblivious to the terrible fate awaiting them if we couldn't change the course of events.
All the children wore the same uniform every day, consisting of a long-sleeved white button-up shirt, a white skirt or pants, and brown boots. A uniform that symbolized our status as commodities, labeled and organized for easy "processing."
The children were made to believe they were orphans living in a happy orphanage and that when they were "sent away," they were going to live with foster families. A cruel lie that made existence in this place more bearable but would eventually give way to the horrible truth.
Our days consisted of taking a daily exam, enjoying delicious gourmet food, helping with household chores, and playing with our siblings. The older children were assigned tasks like washing clothes, scrubbing dishes, and caring for the younger ones, while the rest helped clean the house as we took turns preparing meals. A routine designed to keep us busy, docile, and, above all, ignorant.
As the boys and girls approached me with their arms outstretched to cover more ground, I ducked and easily dodged my companions. They flailed their limbs desperately, trying to use every part of their body to catch me, but it was futile. I moved among them like water through fingers, impossible to hold.
Annie and her friends got ready and surrounded me, closing in slowly while laughing excitedly. Once they were close enough, the children grew impatient and lunged at me.
Just as their hands were about to touch me, I jumped and grabbed the broken chain holding an old chandelier. Using the momentum of my jump, I swung from the chain, gripping tightly to avoid slipping.
Annie, Thomas, and their friends stumbled over each other for missing their target.
Swinging from the old chain, I landed a few feet away and planted my hands on my hips, laughing victoriously.
—You're three to five years too young to defeat the mighty Arceus!
—That's not fair!
Thomas groaned, rubbing his head.
—Yeah! You're too fast!
—Nodded Annie, as she untangled herself from the pile of children.
—Silence! Only the weak complain in the face of defeat! —I said in a deeper voice—. I'm off! My heroic powers are needed elsewhere!
I ran off as the children laughed among themselves.