Internally, Tom whistled at that revelation. That was a significant penalty, and the size of it should have surprised him, but he also knew that it was forbidden for the non-competitors to interfere with competitor species. These assassins fell into a grey area. Them hunting reincarnators was acceptable. Them even inconveniencing non-reincarnators was frowned upon, and them killing non-reincarnators was the extinction of their species-level of no-no.

He wondered again how Arnali had been picked out for elimination, and about what he must have done to be seen as a reincarnator by a creature that risked their species being extinguished if it got it wrong. He must have screwed up far worse than that single comment to his friend.

Beatrice finished her speech. There were no more interesting nuggets of information.

Another week passed.

The trial, Tom decided, was the only good thing in his life. He hadn’t unlocked any new skills, but just being there and talking to someone at an adult level was a blessing.

Beatrice gave a speech each morning, and there had been no new deaths and no mention of Dimitri. A countdown was set up for how long it would be until the ritualist experts arrived. There were twenty-two days to go. Most of the kids, at least those under ten, had adjusted to the new routine. They were laughing more. It was infuriating, especially as he knew how many assassins lurked all around them.

His personal count had reached eight. That was assuming there had been one in Dimitri’s office; and, the more he thought about it, the surer that assumption felt to him. Of course, the total number would be higher than that, as he didn’t have access to the glut of room dedicated to older kids.

Tom was lethargically throwing a ball against the wall in boredom while his body was collecting breakfast. It took him a moment to realise something was wrong.

His danger sense was not going off.

Instantly, he was alert and standing over his map. The assassin that had been in the main gymnasium since the first day was no longer present. That was not the only sign something had changed, but he couldn’t pinpoint what had. Every detail of the room became important to him.

Beatrice was preparing to give her usual speech, but Tom only half-tracked what she was saying, playing her at three times normal speed and skipping sections when she got boring to keep his review as close to the real time as possible. As she spoke, he checked the pins he had added to his map on the morning’s trip. The other two assassins had remained in their standard locations. It was just this one that was missing, and he hoped it didn’t mean that someone else had been killed.

Tom wished he could look up and check the physical location the assassin had occupied, but his body ignored him. It ate happily while chatting contentedly with his friends.

Tom noticed the unexpected activity before his body did. The doors that linked the main hall to the rest of the orphanage were being quietly shut while the number of fighters present had increased to levels not seen since that first day.

Something big was going down, and, while it took place, Beatrice was droning on as always, saying the same useless things she had parroted since taking the role. More and more of the children were putting down their cutlery and looking at the unexpected activity. Even his body was staring at the doors.

Silence descended upon the dining tables. It was almost impressive.

Tom entered his avatar senses, willing to miss some real-time action to experience the explanation first hand.

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“As you can see,” Beatrice said. “We’re introducing a quarantine for the next few hours. Eden is here and has had success finding the assassins. We will still wait for the ritualists to get here before giving the all-clear, but we believe this will deal with our pest problem.”

The doors slammed shut, and they were sealed into the room.

Time passed.

The focus and dedication of the warriors guarding the door didn’t wane. With no entry points and the magical automations not replenishing the consumed supplies by mid-afternoon, all the food was gone. Tom had never really appreciated how the seemingly unlimited food needed to be regularly replaced before now.

There was a knocking at the main entrance. It was like someone was hitting it with a battering ram.

The leader of the squad closest to it knocked back, producing booms that were just as impressive, and, after two exchanges, the door opened.

Tom saw a host of fighters on the other side. Magic sealed the top of the doors, and then trollies filled with food were pushed through. There were about twenty of them, and then, following that, there were bundles of blankets.

Then, with the exchange done, the door was shut again, sealing them in once more.

Beatrice did another speech confirming the basics. They were staying here until the morning; nine assassins had been eliminated, but they were still searching to see if they could find any more.

They slept in the usual groups, with all the five-year-olds sent to the north corner. The drama Tom had expected to wake him over night never took place. It was weird.

In the morning, they ate the food delivered yesterday, and then another knocking session occurred.

This time, when the door opened, Dimitri strode into the gymnasium with a grim look. Tom focused on his speech.

“We’ve eliminated eleven. The red banners stay up until the ritualists get here, but we think the danger has passed. That’s we think - we don’t know, so don’t do anything stupid. For now, you’re going back to your standard sessions.”

Tom mentally groaned. Another three weeks of this meant a disaster; on the other hand, he understood the need. At the same time, he wondered if, with his Danger Sense, he could push things further. Given its apparent sensitivity, he should be safe to treat the isolation rooms as normal.

He was in the midst of listening to a young-looking Chinese woman read The Very Hungry Caterpillar when there was a stir at the front of the classroom.

Everyone looked up.

Dimitri entered, with Everlyn at his side. Inside his system room, Tom froze and stared at her in shock. She was still as hauntingly beautiful as ever, even if there were harder lines to her face. She had aged a few years, but it didn’t detract from her beauty. Very little had changed, apart from the fact she now looked like she was mid-to-late twenties as opposed to early ones, which, in his opinion, was a better age.

“Carry on,” Dimitri ordered. “Please, ignore our presence.”

Tom remained in his system room and cursed when his body turned away from the uninteresting adults back to the infinitely more boring book. Without hesitation, Tom cranked up the volume controls in the system room.

“Which one is he?” Everlyn asked, after a couple of minutes of watching, in a voice loud enough for the entire class to hear. He had felt her eyes linger on him, but he was not sure if they did so for any longer than they had lingered on the other boys in the class.

“Eden, you know I can’t answer that! And even asking is wrong.”

“You can tell me. If I come back after the naming ceremony, it’ll be obvious.”

“Please, don’t do that. That’s abusing the priest’s instructions. Promise me that you won’t.” He hissed at her.

“I won’t. I know the rules, but…” Tears were running down her face now. “You don’t understand. It’s like… so much was left unsaid.”

Tom felt his heart breaking, but the force acting for him, mimicking a child with none of the memories from the previous life, ignored her and focused on the book that was being read to him. He could replay the few seconds of vision as many times as he desired, but he wanted to see more of her. His younger self didn’t care, though. The book was far more interesting than some random drama between adults, even if Dimitri was involved.

“I do. I understand, but, Eden - you were the one who put these rules in place. You know they’re there for a reason.”

“I know, but…”

“When he’s strong enough to protect himself, then…”

“That’s another twenty years,” she snapped angrily, interrupting the other man. “I don’t want to wait that long.”

“Eden, these are your rules. What’s one more sacrifice after everything else you’ve done?”

“A lot, Dim, it’s a lot. It’s so hard. I just want something for myself.”

“But you can’t, Eden. This is about more than you.”

“I know. I know. Let’s go. I can’t be here. We have to leave.”

She broke off, and, sobbing in his arms, was drawn away.

Tom, still in the system room, felt terrible.