Night settled over Melinda's small apartment like a thick, suffocating blanket. Lumi had finally fallen asleep—curled up on her side, faint pulses of light flickering beneath her skin like fireflies breathing. Melinda stood by the bedroom door, watching the girl's slow, steady breaths. For a moment, she felt something warm in her chest. Not quite hope, but something close.
Only after making sure Lumi was completely asleep did Melinda quietly step back into the dim living room. The light above flickered once, and she realized she hadn't touched the switch—it was Lumi's energy subtly affecting the electricity again.
On the coffee table lay the document she had stolen that night—the one she had almost forgotten in the chaos of bringing Lumi home.
Melinda sat down, exhaled shakily, and pulled out the thin folder.
A stale chemical smell hit her immediately, as if the paper itself remembered the laboratory.
The first page was a list.
Not of experiment codes.
Not of results.
But of names.
Tiny names. Childlike names. Each one stamped with a red status mark:
DECEASED
TERMINATED
UNRESPONSIVE – ELIMINATED
Melinda's throat closed.
She flipped the page. Another list.
Origin: Orphanages
Her heart lurched.
"Orphanages…?" she whispered. "They… took them?"
Her eyes scanned faster now. The pages trembled in her hands as she read every line, every sickening detail.
Subject Acquisition Procedure
Target subjects are to be selected from orphanages within designated districts.
Age requirement: 4–5 years.
Criteria: Healthy, emotionally stable, no known disabilities, capable of adapting quickly.
Remove target subjects at night to ensure minimal resistance.
Replace with falsified documentation to avoid suspicion.
Melinda covered her mouth.
She had expected something dark, but not this. Not the deliberate, organized kidnapping of vulnerable children.
She kept reading.
Phase 1: Integration
Children are introduced into the facility under sedation. Subjects receive conditioning to erase memories of previous caretakers.
Phase 2: Experimentation
Subjects are exposed to energy infusion prototypes, mutation stimulants, or neurological enhancement procedures.
Beneath this paragraph was a harsh line:
Failure rate: 73%. Failed subjects are to be terminated immediately to minimize contamination.
Melinda felt her stomach twist violently.
She flipped to the next page—and stopped cold.
A photo was clipped to the top corner.
A little girl. Five years old. Wide eyes. A forced smile. Her small hands clutched a stuffed animal.
Below it:
Name before intake: Miyu.
Result: Failed Experiment. Termination scheduled.
But in red ink beneath that line—handwritten, desperate:
SUBJECT ESCAPED DURING TRANSFER. HIGH RISK OF EXPOSURE.
Melinda's breath left her.
So Miyu really was the only one who ran… and survived.
Her hands tightened around the paper. That meant—
"There were dozens more," she whispered. "Maybe hundreds."
Her mind raced back to Lumi.
A child taken from an orphanage. A child too young to understand why she was hurting. A child who still had the innocent eyes of someone who wanted to trust but didn't know how.
Melinda forced herself to continue reading.
Evaluation: Lumi – Prototype 12B
Age at intake: 4 years
Adaptation potential: High
Energy compatibility: Exceptional
Emotional instability: Moderate
Termination risk: Pending
Melinda froze.
"Pending," she whispered bitterly. "They were planning to kill her too…"
A surge of protective fury rose inside her, sharp and painful.
She skimmed the final page—an internal memo.
—Reminder: All subjects must be viewed as assets, not children. Emotional attachment from staff hampers efficiency and is grounds for immediate removal.
That was it.
That was the moment something inside Melinda snapped.
She slammed the folder shut, unable to read anymore.
The room felt colder suddenly, and Melinda wiped her face, realizing she had begun to cry. Quiet, trembling sobs—anger, sorrow, disbelief all mixing together.
How could humans do this to children?
How many girls had suffered?
How many had cried for help that never came?
How many had died unloved and unnamed?
Her gaze shifted toward the bedroom.
Lumi wasn't just one of them.
She might be the only one left alive besides Miyu.
And Miyu… crushed into dust, lingering only as a desperate spirit bound to guilt and hope.
Melinda stood.
She walked quietly to Lumi's room and stepped inside.
The girl was still asleep, small and curled tightly like a cat. Her faint glow dimmed and brightened with each breath.
Melinda knelt beside the bed.
"Lumi…" she whispered softly, brushing a strand of shimmering hair from her forehead. "I won't let them hurt you again."
The child shifted slightly in her sleep, her tiny hand reaching out blindly—searching. Melinda gently held it.
"You don't have to be scared anymore," she said, her voice trembling. "I'll protect you. And the others too… I'll find them. All of them."
For the first time in hours, she felt clarity.
Miyu's final request wasn't just a plea.
It was a mission.
A responsibility.
And Melinda accepted it fully now.
She squeezed Lumi's hand.
"Tomorrow," she whispered, "we start learning. Speaking. Reading. Everything you were never given the chance to have."
The child's fingers tightened around hers.
Melinda smiled, though tear-stained.
"Lumi… I promise. I'll make sure you get to live a real life."
Outside, the moon slipped behind a cloud.
Inside, Melinda made her vow:
She would uncover every hidden child.
She would tear down the institution that created them.
And she would not let a single one be forgotten.