The person who walked into the dimly lit dormitory was indeed Fana, the enigmatic girl from the Ninth Special Service Division who had dined with Charlie earlier that day. The transformation in her appearance was stark. During lunch, she had worn a pristine white dress, its delicate fabric making her look like an angel—pure, almost ethereal. But now, she had changed into a black dress with a distinct gothic style. The dress was adorned with intricate white lace, a romantic yet eerie contrast that added an unsettling edge to her appearance. It was as if the darkness of the evening had seeped into her attire, blending innocence with an ominous aura.
As Fana stepped into the small dormitory, she moved silently, her presence almost ghostly in the cramped space. The room was tiny, with eight beds crammed together, leaving little room for personal belongings. The limited space was a stark reminder of the orphanage's bleak conditions, where each child had to make do with the bare minimum.
Fana's eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the room before settling on Raya's bed. She approached it with deliberate slowness, her movements almost ritualistic, as if she were paying her respects to something sacred. Without a word, she began to sift through the few items left behind by the missing girl. The simplicity of the possessions—a few worn-out clothes, a stuffed animal with its fur matted from age, and a small, battered suitcase—spoke volumes about the life Raya had led here.
As Fana rummaged through the sparse belongings, her fingers brushed against the cover of a thick book tucked away on a narrow shelf. The title, "A Guide to Seedling Maintenance," was embossed in faded gold lettering. It was a manual, something that might have seemed out of place in the hands of a twelve-year-old girl. Yet, as Fana held the book, her expression softened, and she gently caressed the cover as if it were a treasured keepsake. She carefully opened the book, flipping through its pages with a delicate touch, each movement filled with an almost reverent tenderness.
Director Deacon, who had been watching her from the doorway, cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking. "We're in the process of applying to build a library," he began, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and frustration. "Of course, it's not an easy task. The bureaucracy is a nightmare, and finding the necessary funds is even harder. But we believe it's crucial for the children. Books are their lifeline to the outside world, a way to enrich their minds and spirits…"
Fana, seemingly lost in her thoughts, interrupted softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "This book… I gave it to her."
Deacon blinked in surprise, taken aback by the revelation. "Oh, I didn't know that," he said, his tone filled with regret. "I had no idea you and Raya were… friends."
"The only friend," Fana replied, her voice carrying a weight that made the words hang in the air. She stared blankly at the book in her hands for a moment longer before adding in an almost detached manner, "She used to be."
Deacon, trying to navigate the delicate situation, nodded sympathetically. "I wish I had known. If I'd realized that Raya was your friend, I would have contacted you immediately when she went missing."
Fana gently closed the book and placed it back on the shelf with care, as if she were handling something fragile and precious. "We were friends a long time ago," she murmured, her voice tinged with a melancholy that was almost palpable. "But we hadn't been in touch for years."
The director shifted uncomfortably, sensing the depth of Fana's emotions. "The FBI is still investigating," he offered, attempting to provide some comfort. "If there's any progress, I'll make sure you're the first to know."
"Thank you," Fana replied simply.
As they turned to leave, Deacon, trying to lighten the mood, gave Fana a gentle pat on the shoulder. "No need to be so formal with us," he said, smiling in an attempt to convey warmth. "Even though you're not living here anymore, you know this place will always be home. You're welcome back anytime. We're like your family…"
His words trailed off as they walked down the dimly lit corridor, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Fana remained quiet, her expression unreadable, while Batman, under Charlie's control, followed them stealthily from the shadows, his presence undetected.
A distant bell rang out across the orphanage, its chime eerie and out of place in the desolate surroundings. It signaled the start of dinner, a monotonous routine in a place where time seemed to stand still. A group of women, their faces weary and expressionless, carried large metal buckets from the cafeteria to the classrooms. The buckets were filled with a thick, whitish porridge, its consistency more akin to paste than food, with a few wilted vegetable leaves floating on top. It was a meager meal, one that seemed more suitable for livestock than children.
Charlie, watching through Batman's eyes, felt a pang of discomfort. He couldn't imagine how anyone could survive in such a place. The orphanage, with its cold, sterile atmosphere, felt more like a prison than a refuge for children. Even through the screen, Charlie could sense the lifelessness that permeated every corner of the building.
But this sense of despair wasn't caused by some supernatural force or infectious disease.
As much as Charlie wished he could blame the cold, oppressive atmosphere on an external source—some malevolent entity or a spreading infection—the truth was far more mundane and, in some ways, even more horrifying. The orphanage had been this way for years, long before any talk of infection or strange occurrences. It was just one of many forgotten corners of the world, neglected and left to decay by those who should have cared.
Seeing Fana here, Charlie remembered something from her file. The previous night, he had glanced over her background and noted that she had once lived in an orphanage before being recruited by the Service Division. However, the file didn't specify which orphanage it was.
Now, as he watched Fana in this place, he accessed the Secret Service system to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, this was the orphanage where Fana had grown up. She hadn't left until she was discovered to have the unique traits of a "Phantom" wielder, leading to her recruitment by Secret Service Nine.
Fana had known Raya, the missing girl.
Outside the orphanage, Charlie noticed a sleek black car parked discreetly by the entrance. It was clearly a government-issued vehicle, likely assigned to Fana as part of her duties with Secret Service Nine. It provided both transportation and a means of keeping tabs on her movements.
After finishing her conversation with the director, Fana exited the building, and the heavy iron gate clanged shut behind her, the sound echoing through the empty yard. The gate, with its thick chains and rusted metal, seemed to symbolize the isolation of this place—a barrier that kept the outside world at bay, sealing off this forgotten corner from everything else.
Fana paused for a moment in front of the gate, her gaze lingering on the yard behind her as if she were trying to imprint the scene in her memory. Then, without a word, she turned and walked toward the waiting car.
The driver, who had been patiently waiting, started the engine as he saw her approach. But instead of getting into the car, Fana walked over to the driver's side window and leaned in to speak. Her voice was soft, almost inaudible, and whatever she said caused the driver to furrow his brow in confusion. After a moment, he nodded, turned off the engine, and remained in the car, clearly under orders to wait.
Fana, now alone, began walking along the outer wall of the orphanage, her steps purposeful and deliberate.
Charlie, still observing through Batman, found this behavior odd. The direction she was heading seemed to lead to the back of the orphanage, toward an area that was little more than an overgrown wasteland. The land there was undeveloped, with wild plants and weeds reclaiming the space that had long been abandoned by humans.
But Fana moved as if she knew exactly where she was going, her path unwavering. After a moment's hesitation, Charlie decided to follow her, guiding Batman silently along the same route.
The girl pushed her way through tall weeds and thick underbrush, her black dress brushing against the foliage. Despite the rough terrain, she moved with confidence, as though she had walked this path many times before. The overgrown plants seemed to part before her, as if they recognized her presence and allowed her passage.
After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dense wilderness, Charlie, through Batman's sensors, finally saw where she was heading—a natural cave hidden among the thick vegetation.
Fana approached the cave entrance cautiously. The entrance was narrow, barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze through. It was dark, the kind of darkness that seemed to swallow all light, but Fana didn't hesitate. She slipped inside, her form disappearing into the inky blackness.
For Batman, the darkness provided perfect cover. Charlie guided him to follow at a safe distance, ensuring that he remained hidden within the shadows. The narrow passage was tight, forcing Batman to move slowly and carefully, but Charlie's meticulous control ensured that he made no sound.
The cave's interior was a surprise. The narrow entrance gave way to a much larger chamber, its walls lined with jagged rocks and uneven surfaces. The air inside was cool and damp, with a faint earthy smell that hinted at the depth of the cave. Blue vines crept up the walls, their luminous glow providing just enough light to see by.
As Fana descended deeper into the cave, the narrow passage suddenly opened up into a vast chamber. The walls of the chamber were covered in intricate carvings and glowing blue vines, which cast eerie, flickering shadows across the space. Torches were bound to the stone walls by these same vines, their flames providing a warm yet ominous light that illuminated the chamber in a ghostly glow.
As Fana reached the bottom, she found herself standing on uneven ground. The orange firelight from the torches bathed the entire area in an otherworldly glow, making the shadows dance on the walls as if they were alive.
A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the cave.
"You're finally back," said a voice, soft and chilling.
The girl who stepped out from the shadows was pale, her skin ghostly under the torchlight. Her lifeless appearance, contrasted with the flickering flames, made her look even more eerie in the dim light.
It was Raya Hatta, the missing girl from the orphanage.
She stared at Fana, a strange smile spreading across her face, a smile that seemed entirely out of place for someone her age.
"I guess it wasn't easy to leave such a pretty place and come back to this dingy corner," Raya said, her tone dripping with an unsettling blend of sarcasm and bitterness.
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