The Extra's Rise
Chapter 671: Heavenly Demon (8)

Chapter 671: Heavenly Demon (8)

I watched Master walk away from Luna’s containment chamber, noting the careful way he carried the drawing she’d given him. Even from behind, I could see the change in his posture—the protective set of his shoulders, the gentleness in his movements that hadn’t been there a week ago.

‘He’s falling in love with her,’ I realized, and the thought made my chest warm in ways I wasn’t prepared for.

“Bishop Cordelia,” Dr. Vance approached with his ever-present tablet, “I was hoping to discuss the subject’s recent behavioral modifications with you. Your psychological evaluation reports have been… interesting.”

If only you knew how carefully crafted those reports were. “Of course, Doctor. What specific aspects would you like to discuss?”

“The emotional development patterns. We’ve never seen such rapid socialization in any previous iteration. Your assessment methodology appears to be yielding exceptional results.”

I maintained my professional expression while internally cringing at his clinical language. ‘Previous iteration. As if Luna’s predecessors weren’t children who died in agony.’

“The subject responds well to structured interaction,” I said carefully. “Consistent positive reinforcement appears to accelerate cognitive and emotional development.”

Consistent positive reinforcement. Such cold words for what was actually love, kindness, and basic human decency.

“Fascinating. And the attachment behaviors toward Cardinal Matthias?”

“Natural development given the frequency and quality of their interactions,” I replied. “The subject has formed a positive association with Cardinal Matthias due to his patient evaluation approach.”

“Would you recommend expanding this approach? Perhaps having you conduct similar attachment-building sessions?”

Yes, my heart said immediately. ‘Yes, let me spend time with her too. Let me be part of whatever family Master is building.’

“That could provide valuable comparative data,” I said aloud. “I’d be willing to conduct supplementary behavioral assessments.”

Dr. Vance nodded approvingly. “Excellent. I’ll have your sessions scheduled immediately. The subject seems to benefit from… humanized interaction protocols.”

Humanized interaction protocols. He meant treating Luna like a person instead of a weapon, though he’d never phrase it that way.

An hour later, I found myself standing outside Luna’s chamber for my first solo visit. Through the observation window, I could see her sitting at her small table, carefully working on another drawing with the colored pencils Master Arthur had brought her.

I activated the door controls and stepped inside. “Hello, Luna.”

She looked up from her artwork, and I saw recognition flash in her dark eyes. “You’re Bishop Cordelia. You’re always with Arthur when he visits.”

Arthur. Not Cardinal Matthias. She felt safe enough to use his real name even with me present.

“That’s right. I was hoping to spend some time with you today, if that’s alright.”

Luna tilted her head, studying me with the direct gaze of a child unused to deception. “Are you going to ask me questions like the doctors do? About how I feel and what I think?”

The doctors. More people who saw her as a subject to be analyzed rather than a child to be cared for.

“No questions like that,” I assured her, moving to sit in the chair Master Arthur usually occupied. “I was actually hoping you might show me your drawings.”

Her face lit up immediately. “Really? You want to see them?”

“Very much.”

For the next few minutes, Luna showed me her artwork with the enthusiasm of any child sharing something they’d created. Stick figure gardens, wobbly animals, houses that defied architectural physics but radiated warmth and imagination.

“This one is my favorite,” she said, pointing to a drawing of what appeared to be three stick figures standing together. “It’s Arthur, and me, and you.”

My breath caught. “Me?”

“You’re always taking care of Arthur, and Arthur takes care of me, so that makes us…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Like a family, right?”

Like a family. The casual way she said it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, made my heart skip a beat.

“Do you know what families are like, Luna?” I asked gently.

“Not really,” she admitted. “But Arthur tells me stories sometimes. About people who live together and take care of each other and love each other even when they make mistakes.”

‘Master has been telling her about families. Of course he has—he’s been preparing her for the life she deserves to have.’

“That’s exactly right,” I said. “Families are people who choose to love each other.”

“Choose?” Luna’s eyes widened. “You mean it’s not something that just happens? People decide to be family?”

“Sometimes. The very best families are the ones where people choose each other.”

Luna looked down at her drawing, then back up at me. “Do you think… do you think Arthur chose me? Like family?”

Oh, sweetheart. The hope in her voice was almost too much to bear.

“I think Arthur cares about you very much,” I said carefully. “And yes, I think he’s chosen you as someone special to him.”

“What about you?” The question was so quiet I almost missed it. “Do you care about me too?”

The words hit me like a physical blow. This little girl—this brave, artistic, loving child—was asking if I cared about her. And the answer that rose in my throat surprised me with its intensity.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, Luna. I care about you very much.”

The smile that spread across her face was like sunrise after a long night. “Really? So we’re all… we all care about each other? You and Arthur and me?”

‘Master and my daughter.’ The thought appeared in my mind unbidden, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks.

‘What am I thinking? Our daughter? When had I started thinking of Luna that way?’The idea of her calling me something like… like Mama Reika made my face burn with embarrassment at my own presumption.

“Luna,” I said, trying to regain my composure, “what do you know about mothers?”

“Mothers?” She looked confused. “Arthur mentioned them sometimes. They’re like fathers, but different? Ladies who take care of children?”

‘She doesn’t even know what a mother is.’ The casual cruelty of her upbringing hit me anew.

“That’s right. Mothers are women who love and protect children. They teach them things, and comfort them when they’re scared, and are proud of them when they accomplish something.”

Luna was quiet for a long moment, processing this information. Then she looked up at me with those too-wise eyes.

“Do you think… could someone like you be a mother to someone like me?”

The question made my heart stop entirely. The way she phrased it—so carefully, so hopefully—as if she didn’t dare ask directly but wanted to know if it was possible.

The thought of Luna calling me Mama made my cheeks burn. The image of her and Master as a real family, with me as… as his wife in raising her…

‘What am I thinking?’ The rational part of my mind tried to reassert control. ‘This is a mission. We’re here to extract intelligence, not adopt children.’

But looking at Luna’s hopeful face, at the drawing of three stick figures she’d labeled as family, rationality seemed less important than the overwhelming urge to protect this child.

“I think,” I said carefully, “that you deserve to have people who care about you like family does. People who want to protect you and help you grow.”

Luna nodded thoughtfully, then smiled. “I think that would be nice.”

If only she knew how much I already want to protect her. The thought of Luna someday calling me something maternal—maybe Mama Cordelia—made my heart race and my cheeks burn with embarrassment at my own presumption.

‘What would it be like?’ I wondered, watching Luna return to her drawing. ‘To have Master and I raising her together? To be a real family?’

The fantasy was so appealing it was almost painful. Luna beamed and immediately returned to her drawing, adding details to the three stick figures with renewed enthusiasm. As she worked, she chattered about the people she was drawing—how Arthur was kind and brought her books, and how I was nice and answered her questions, and how maybe someday they could all be together somewhere with a garden.

A house with a garden. She was imagining a future together, this child who’d never experienced anything beyond sterile walls and clinical procedures.

I watched her work, noting the careful way she drew each figure, the hope evident in every line. In her mind, we were becoming something like a family. She was choosing us as much as we were choosing her.

We have to save her, I thought fiercely. Not just extract her—save her. Give her the family she deserves.

“Cordelia?” Luna’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Do you think… when people leave places like this… do they really get to stay with the people who care about them?”

The question was asked with such innocent hope that it nearly broke my heart. She was asking if we would really save her, if we would really be her family, without quite daring to say the words directly.

“Yes, Luna,” I said aloud. “When people find their real family, they get to stay together.”

She smiled and returned to her drawing, humming softly to herself as she worked. And sitting there, watching Master Arthur’s… our… this precious child create art with colored pencils, I realized that my mission priorities had fundamentally shifted.

It was about saving this little girl who was already becoming so important to both Master and me.