Her huge eyes stared at my hair with bizarre fascination—like every touch sent sparks of delight through her. I didn't know why she reacted this way, or why I was so sure she was enjoying it. Until—
YANK!
A babyish shriek tore from my throat as I instinctively recoiled, but her hands were glued to my pathetic wisps of hair, refusing to let go.
Mom finally noticed the situation and pried us apart, "Hey hey, little miss! What do you think you're doing with my baby's hair?!"
While I made incoherent screechy noises, Mom forcibly peeled Lorine's death-grip off my scalp. The second she lost her grip, Lorine started wailing—like some tiny, entitled tyrant throwing a tantrum because she couldn't keep her new toy.
Meanwhile, Anne snatched the baby back from Mom and launched into her signature 'Oops, my bad!' tone, "Sorry, sis! I don't know what's gotten into her, she's never been this aggressive before!"
"It's fine. she's just a baby. You can't really blame someone who's barely figured out how to exist yet." Mom motioned for Anne to sit, "You said you wanted to talk?"
"Oh... right. Let me have some tea brought for us."
Anne signaled one of the academy servants to bring drinks, while the spot where my hair had been yanked throbbed angrily. Any normal baby would've cried for an hour straight—honestly, it was weird Mom hadn't noticed how unnaturally calm I was being. She settled onto the sofa, waiting for Anne to begin, absentmindedly stroking the exact spot on my head that still burned.
Anne settled directly across from us, mirroring Mom with Lorine perched on her lap—though in her case, the baby was busy mauling a doll again. Finally, she voiced what Mother had been waiting for, "Truthfully, there's something I must tell you. You've always been... kind and reasonable. You even let me call you 'sister' despite our age difference."
Mother responded with a small chuckle. Anne, visibly relieved by this reaction, pressed on, "It's about Lorine. My husband and I... we've noticed some unusual behaviors from her recently."
Mom blinked, "From a baby?!"
"Yes... um... By 'unusual behaviors' I mean... physical anomalies." Anne hesitated, then pointed to her own eyes. "One day, I saw Lorine's irises turn black—when they should be gold, like her father's."
This revelation left me reeling. Wait—those mesmerizing golden eyes that had captivated me... were they artificial? Some kind of trick? Before I could process it, Anne uttered a strange term under her breath—one that changed everything.
"Only my husband and I know about this... but since Brother Norb is the family head, we thought it best not to tell you two first. He's always occupied, and so am I—that's why I asked you here. So you could be the one to inform him."
Mom's expression grew serious. As I sat on her lap, listening intently—though occasionally stealing glances at Lorine's deceptively innocent eyes while she happily chewed her doll—Mother voiced the obvious suspicion, "Are you saying… Lorine has manifested a power?"
"I don't know whether to celebrate or panic. It's... unsettling. This puts Lorine in a very precarious position. But the physicians have confirmed it—she possesses an Elecro variant. Though what it does, or how far its influence reaches... that remains to be seen."
Mom had gone completely still, frozen mid-breath. I'd never heard the term 'Elecro' before—but now, I could piece it together. This world had abilities. People born with supernatural gifts. And not just the Leonhardt Elite Academy… even the government hunted these rare individuals.
Mom looked like she couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard. Still, she managed to compose herself. "I see... So Lorine has Elecro. That's... remarkable for her. Her future could be brilliant—if she learns to control it, of course."
The way these two were talking, you'd think supernatural powers in this world—despite being ultra-rare—were no big deal. But seriously?! Look at that dumb face she's making while chomping on her doll! Where exactly is this kid 'special'? If you ignore those freaky eyes of hers.
Mom glanced at me first—that kind of look—before asking Anne, "So none of those physicians could actually identify what her ability does?"
"Apparently not," Anne admitted. "Though they theorized that—given her age—any Elecro manifestations would be minor... purely instinctual at this stage."
Mom's voice dropped to that ominous register parents reserve for Bad News, "Then we'll have to wait like everyone else... until she turns five. When it fully blooms."
Her gaze fell to the floor, heavy with some unnameable grief. Just minutes ago, she'd been laughing—now her entire demeanor had darkened. Is Elecro really that dangerous? I wondered. Or is there something else she's not saying?
Just as Mom's troubled expression sent my own mind spiraling, Anne leaned forward, "I need you to tell Brother Norb about this… but the others must never know." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Please, sis. Will you do this?"
Naria met Anne's gaze and offered a reassuring smile, "Yeah. Don't worry too much about this. I'll tell Norb myself—and I'll make sure nothing happens to Lorine."
An incident? What kind of incident?
I was starting to get worried too. Sure, I was still mad about her yanking my hair—especially now that she was licking her doll like some kind of feral gremlin! But seeing Mom's troubled expression... it twisted something in me. Whatever danger threatened Lorine, it wasn't just Anne who'd grieve—Mom would too. And I hated seeing that look on her face.
A few minutes passed. After finishing her tea, Mother rose to leave for the manor. Anne kept insisting—at least let her escort them down the stairs—but Mom just smiled that humble smile of hers, "I'm perfectly fine. Stay with your child."
We walked back through the same silent, empty building, descending its endless stairs. Every few seconds, I'd glance up at Mom's face—now carefully neutral. She'd reined in her worry. I, too, tried to bury my unease. What good would a baby's anxiety do? It wasn't like I could help.
The sky had clouded over, a cold wind whispering through—as if spring itself held secret plans today. Just as the carriage halted a few meters away, the clouds began spitting rain. Mom paused, holding out her palm to catch the droplets. The rider dismounted, swinging the carriage door open with urgency, "My lady! Please board. We must return to the manor before the storm worsens."
Mom settled me into the carriage but didn't follow, "You stay here and get ready to go. I need a moment outside."
The coachman obeyed without another word, retreating to his post like a soldier awaiting orders. Mom stood frozen in the rain, one hand pressed to her chest as if trying to stifle an invisible wound. I couldn't begin to guess her thoughts—her face tilted skyward, letting the raindrops gather beneath her eyes and along her cheeks like liquid silver tears. The storm raged around her, yet those particular drops fell gently, as if the sky itself hesitated to disturb her.
All I could do was watch—just the back of her, standing there. I wanted to ask what was hurting her, but what good would babbling do? Though honestly, I wasn't exactly thrilled about being dragged into adult problems at nine months old. I'm supposed to be mastering drool and stuffed animals, not decoding existential crises that even grown-ups can't handle!
As I watched Mom's solitary figure in the rain, that same translucent blue window materialized again—stealing my attention from her. This time, it bore a new word: [MISSION].
With every line of text I read, my eyes widened further in shock and fear. One terrible truth became undeniable: I wasn't an ordinary girl either.
[Mission One: Steal Lorine's Power]
Time Remaining: 3 years, 8 months, 23 days, 9 hours, 11 minutes, 3 seconds...
...2 seconds...
...1 second...
[69 Dumb Choices]
Episode 3: First Mission