A short man stood in that direction. From the open door next to him, it appeared that he’d been inside the room there.

He was old and bald. The little hairs that remained on his head were greyed, same with his whiskers.

He wore a raggedy outfit. Torn shoes.

"Oh, hello there," Lucien said innocently, wearing a carefree smile.

"Yes, young man." The old man spoke with a deep, rumbling voice as he closed the door next to him and paced toward that large receptionist desk. "How may I help you? Or, uh, how may the orphanage help you?"

Lucien acted like he fumbled over his words.

"Uh... how do I say this?" he muttered, scratching the back of his head as he smiled. "I’m here to adopt a child."

The old man, now standing behind his desk, frowned.

"To what?" he asked. "Are you serious? Not kidding?"

Lucien nodded innocently.

"Yes! I’m here to adopt a child."

The old man touched his whiskers, caressing them.

"Well, color me a pipe. You really are serious. It’s been ages since anyone even so much as mentioned the word ’adoption’ around here." He ruffled through a shelf behind his desk. "Boy, you really want to adopt a child? But why?"

"Am I really obligated to give you a reason, sir?" Lucien said that in the most innocent, deadpan way possible, smiling.

"Oh." The old man chuckled. "But you are. Tell me, what is your name, boy?"

Lucien paused for a while, seemingly thoughtful. And then, after the short pause, he said:

"Luciano."

"Luciano? An odd name." the old man wrote something on a book. "Any surname?"

"Luciano Winters."

Old man whiskers nodded, writing. Then he closed the book.

"You live in the residential areas of Sector 3, yes?"

"Yes, I do."

"You don’t look like you do, though."

Lucien chuckled awkwardly.

"Nevertheless, would you please tell me the kind of child you’re looking for."

"Ehh. " Lucien shrugged. "You know, just like any normal child. Calm, playful. Purple hair, amethyst eyes, skinny. Female."

Old man Whiskers cracked a brow, donning a devious expression.

"How specific. Very well then, let’s head into the inner rooms, shall we?"

Lucien nodded.

’He has that Main-City-In-Mariva accent too. Just like Lector and Evelyn.’

The old man walked away from the desk, heading toward that door he’d walked out from.

Lucien, firm and resolved, followed behind him.

***

Scenarios.

They played on and on in Lector’s mind as he screwed the barrel on top of his 8-inches long radiator boom. A wonder of a weapon, this was. Steel, slender, more beautiful than a standard full-length lazer blaster/gun.

’Any moment now.’

Lector counted down, while Evelyn, the unranked Prowler placed under his care, fastened her pistol.

10.

He clicked a button on his camo-watch, accessing the database, tracking the duration of his movement in the Prowler network.

9.

He finished fastening the barrel, letting out a soft breath as he stood up. He held the heavy boom, fine muscles bulging.

Scenarios and scenarios.

But he had to choose one. One that the series of events about to occur would carefully follow.

8.

A small pang of guilt stung his heart as he thought about the children. This operation wasn’t to rescue them. The Union didn’t care about zero children or their fates. The higher up certainly didn’t, too.

They only cared about what the orphanage was using these kids to accomplish, wrecking havock in the big cities in the Stronghold. And they wanted the source of these problems removed.

7.

Lector was different. Perhaps it was just because of his love for kids — the dead face of his younger brother still haunted him — or maybe it was because he was weak. But whatever the reason, he would make sure all the rescued kids today get sent to different, real orphanages.

That would be another plight to his record. Another punishment from that man, that bloody damn man, Winchester.

6.

Lector knew not to hate him, though. After all the man had rescued him from the dredges of the zerozones as a four year old and raised him to become a perfect Prowler. But the man had failed to do same for his now deceased brother.

5.

Scenarios. Scenarios and scenarios.

4.

Breathe in.

3.

Breathe out.

2.

"Evelyn." His voice echoed.

The young lady nodded.

1.

"We move. Now!"

***

Amira wasn’t here. Lucien already knew that.

He was gazing at the system map after all.

And it pointed underground, to where she was still being trained to become a killer.

So as he walked around the inner rooms, gazing at the forlorn, downcast gazes of these shrunken children, Lucien’s emerald eyes turned cold. And the naivety he wore like a mask melted.

It was sickening.

He gazed at the old man.

"Anyone catches your interest?"

Lucien didn’t respond.

Lector had told him to find the child he was looking for amongst the inner rooms where the kept kids that weren’t yet sent underground. Freshly obtained chicks. The Prowler might’ve thought she was once with Lucien and got missing or something.

It was a good thing Lucien had a different plan.

To gain Amira’s trust an all, Lucien would have to be the one to rescue her on his own.

He had to get underground.

Lucien put his hand on his pocket, feeling the outline of the knife.

He was walking directly behind Old Man Whiskers, following his lead.

He brought the knife out of his pocket.

"So if you think no one measures up to your... standard, then I’m afraid I–"

Lucien immediately gagged the man with one hand, pressing the knife against the man’s throat.

"Shhh," he whispered. "Now I just need one tiny favour from you."

Lector and Evelyn already had a secure way underground, a path devoid of security.

’I need to get underground.’

Lucien drew a small line of blood from the old man’s neck, and he could feel him quivering under his touch.

"Lead me underground."