After Arthur's encounter with Mother Lucy, the days passed as though nothing had happened.
He followed his usual routine.
Wake up.
Eat breakfast with the other kids.
Study.
Relax.
Eat dinner.
Go for a walk or exercise.
Sleep.
Repeat.
But what was different now, was that he had a dark secret looming over his shoulder the entire time.
The system remained in his mind, readily accessible at any given moment.
And even more unsettling, was the fact that Mother Lucy continued to act as though nothing had happened.
He even started to question whether or not the conversation that they had was real or whether it was a part of the sick and twisted dreams he had been plagued with over the last few days.
———
The fourth day after Arthur's first kill, as he and his orphanage siblings sat around a table, the television channel caught everyone's attention.
Mother Lucy stood close to the screen, momentarily taking a break from washing the dishes.
"HENDONSHIRE — Local authorities have launched an investigation into the disappearance of 34-year-old Graham Smith, who has been missing since Tuesday night.
Mr Smith was last seen leaving his home on Latchmere Road around 11:30 PM for what his family described as a routine night run. He has not been seen or heard from since.
Given Hendonshire's famously low crime rate, some have speculated that Mr Smith may have chosen to leave of his own accord, possibly fleeing personal or financial troubles. However, his wife, Julie Smith, strongly rejects this idea.
"This isn't like him," Mrs Smith said in an emotional statement earlier today. "Graham wouldn't just leave me behind. Something's happened to him. I know it."
Police have asked anyone with information regarding Mr Smith's whereabouts to contact them immediately.
The investigation remains ongoing."
———
Arthur was stunned, unable to lift the spoon of cereal to his mouth.
As his hand began to tremble, he quickly dropped it back into the bowl.
"Holy shit." A young man on the opposite side of the table cursed as he read the news.
His name was Thomas and he was seventeen, the same age as Arthur.
Mother Lucy turned to look at the boy, wagging her finger at him.
"Language, young man."
"But Lucy," another girl named Heather butted in. She was fourteen and known for being paranoid. "Didn't you hear what the news lady said... I thought Hendonshire was supposed to be a safe place."
Heather began to quietly sob into her palms.
Some people were more weak-minded than others.
After letting out a sigh, Mother Lucy dried her hands on a towel and made her way over to the young girl.
She pulled her into a comforting hug, allowing her to cry onto her chest.
"There, there my sweet child. You have nothing to worry about."
As she continued to comfort Heather, she looked around at the others around the table, about to address them.
Arthur's face went red as their eyes met. He felt like a failure, unable to contain his nerves.
But Mother Lucy expected this.
She covered for him.
"Men and women often struggle to face the truth that those they love might some day choose to leave them. They watch it happen to others, convinced it could never happen to them. But love is not ownership, children, it is a choice. And sometimes, that choice fades."
All of the orphans listened intently to their mother's words, as they had so many times before.
"Hendonshire is a safe place," she went on softly. "The safest in all of Ingland. I have no doubt that Graham Smith simply chose a new path somewhere else. One day, I hope poor Mrs Smith will find the strength to accept that."
Heather's tears were now gone, and the others were nodding their heads in agreement.
Arthur found himself doing the same, as if he did not know the truth behind the news report.
He watched as Mother Lucy returned to her dishes, whilst whistling a soft tune to herself.
If anyone else knew the truth, such a sight would be truly unsettling. How a woman could so easily put on a facade to ease the minds of her adopted children.
Such an act could only be pulled off by a true psychopath.
A woman who had seen and faced more horrors than anyone could imagine.
Arthur found it admirable.
He deeply wished to learn more about the serial killer that was Mother Lucy.
———
A week passed by, and no one else spoke of Graham Smith.
Not the news reporters, or the Orphans.
Not the civilians that Arthur passed when walking through the street, or even the Defender forces.
Graham had been completely forgotten about.
His disappearance was chalked up to him being a man who was discontent with his family, deciding to flee to a different city.
A lie that only Arthur knew the truth behind.
Well, Arthur and Mother Lucy.
The owner of the orphanage still hadn't spoken to him since that night in his bedroom.
It was slowly driving him crazy.
In his mind was a system that rewarded him for killing.
There were still so many areas that he hadn't explored.
Abilities. Artefacts. Titles.
He needed to learn more about these things, and due to the nature of the system, he knew that he would only be able to do this through completing quests.
This is where his problem came in.
The System had granted him no quests.
And so, after midnight on a Friday, Graham crept out of his room and crept down the dark corridors of the orphanage.
After a while, he came to a door slightly larger than the other. It had a child's drawing of a woman's face on it with blonde hair and a wide smile.
One of the youths had drawn it for Mother Lucy, so she stuck it on her door.
Quietly, Arthur rattled his knuckles against the wood.
There was no answer.
He knocked again.
This time, however, the door creaked open. She had forgotten to lock it.
Daringly, Arthur pushed the door open and peeked his head into the dark room.
It smelt like flowers and perfume fragrances, despite being bland in design. The room was spotless, as would be expected from Lucy.
However, as he swivelled his head around, he spotted no sign of the woman.
Her bed was made. Empty.
Arthur stepped inside the room, and he noticed that the window was wide open, allowing a cool breeze to make its way inside.
Closing the door behind him, he scurried over to the window and took a look outside.
All he could see was the empty streets of Hendonshire.
Did she sneak out? Perhaps she was given a quest to kill...
The thought troubled his mind.
Just how would Mother Lucy carry out her kills?
Surely she can't be a Butcher class like me, using knives and brute force to overpower her victims. It doesn't suit her.
But just how many classes are there, and what could they be?
Letting out a sigh, Arthur left the window open, in case she needed to enter back through.
He turned back towards the door, prepared to leave.
Instantly, he noticed that the room was different.
It felt like he was no longer the only one in there.
His eyes scanned across the room until, finally, they landed on a dark figure sitting on the bed in a cross-legged position.
All that could be seen was their silhouette, and their bright blonde hair cascading over their naked body.
Arthur felt his heart lurch in his chest.
It was Mother Lucy.