During those days, Arthur and Isabella grew noticeably closer.
Unlike the Reincarnators who had forcefully inserted themselves into this world, Isabella was one of the oldest children in the orphanage. Combined with her naturally warm and outgoing personality, she was incredibly popular with the younger kids. More importantly, through his conversations with her, Arthur was able to learn many details about the orphanage that hadn't been included in the intelligence reports.
Recently, some "good news" had spread throughout the orphanage: at the end of the month, one child was going to be adopted.
To children who had lived here since birth and had never once stepped outside, this was wonderful news, something to celebrate. Unfortunately, none of them knew the truth behind the word "adoption." In reality, it meant elimination as a defective "edible child," shipment to the outside world… and eventual consumption by the monsters known as demons.
"Did you hear? Nina's leaving this month."
There was a trace of longing in Isabella's voice.
Though the children had never left the orphanage, their education, and especially their books, gave them glimpses of the outside world. Even if it was only fragments of human society, it was more than enough to fill them with endless curiosity and yearning.
Dazzling cityscapes. Busy streets packed with traffic. Endless lights that turned night into day.
If they were adopted by parents from outside, they would finally get to see it all.
Of course, they all loved Mama. She cared for them, raised them and protected them.
But she was everyone's mother.
Children are innocent, but they are also selfish. Deep down, each of them longed for parents who belonged only to them… parents who would love them more than anyone else.
That was why opportunities like adoption were something they had always dreamed about.
Arthur knew the child named Nina.
She was a small girl, about seven years old. Frail, quiet, and painfully shy, she rarely drew attention to herself. Her grades were poor, consistently near the bottom, but she had a clear gift for music. She was one of the children who often listened when he hummed melodies beneath the tree, and before long she could reproduce those tunes perfectly on her own.
Her voice was soft and pure, almost delicate... better suited to lulling children to sleep than his own absentminded humming.
Arthur had never actually spoken to her, yet this fragile little girl—like a doll carved from crystal—reminded him strangely of Sophia. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, she lingered in his thoughts.
Perhaps it was fate.
She became the first to be "shipped out."
She wasn't a Reincarnator, which, from a purely survival standpoint, was good news for the others. Even if this dungeon was designed to "deal with" Reincarnators, it still had to operate within the fundamental rules of its world. Children with the worst academic performance, and no visible potential for improvement, would be eliminated first.
Even if they hadn't yet reached the ideal shipping age of eleven, they could still be selected early if they were deemed defective.
Only when no obvious "defective products" remained among the younger children would the selection begin to focus on the older ones approaching the proper age.
"It should be tomorrow… right?"
News of an adoption was usually announced one day in advance. A small mercy, framed as compassion, so the children who had grown up together in this large family could say their final goodbyes.
"Mhm."
Isabella's gaze dimmed slightly.
Lately, she hadn't been as excited about the outside world as she used to be. If Eren were there too, she thought she might prefer staying in this big family they already had. Every child here was her family. Her heart was still soft, still young—and now, with one of them suddenly leaving, she found herself unable to offer any sincere words of blessing.
"I actually don't want Nina to go…"
Her quiet confession made Arthur's eyes darken, though Isabella didn't notice. She simply sat there, absentmindedly twirling a blade of grass between her fingers.
"Everyone in the orphanage is my family. When someone suddenly leaves… all I feel is sadness." She paused, lowering her head slightly. "But I know being adopted is supposed to be the happiest thing for Nina. She'll get a family that belongs only to her… so I don't have the right to stop her from leaving."
Her fingers tightened around the grass stem.
"Eren… what should I do?"
Stop her. Don't let her go. Don't let that child die for nothing.
The words rose to Arthur's throat, but he couldn't say them.
After spending these past days together, he had begun to see a familiar shadow in Isabella… the same warmth, the same instinct to protect everyone, the same quiet strength hidden beneath gentleness... from Emma.
Perhaps it was because she would one day become a mother that she was able to raise a child as gentle as Emma.
But unlike Emma, Isabella's love for her family was restrained. She didn't have the courage to put all of those feelings into words. The orphans were all lonely in their own way. They were family, yes, but that also meant there was no bond more intimate than "family" allowed them to have.
Emma had Ray and Norman. The connection between the three of them went beyond family... it was a partnership, a shared soul. Emma could remain carefree because the burdens she couldn't face alone were carried alongside them. But Isabella had always been alone. From beginning to end, there was never anyone who stood beside her. That loneliness was the root of everything, the reason she ultimately couldn't resist her grandmother's invitation… and became a "Mama."
"Then send her off with a smile."
Arthur gave his answer quietly, but it wasn't a hollow comfort offered out of convenience.
"I promise you."
He held her gaze, letting the weight of his sincerity speak without needing further explanation.
"Her future will be filled with light."
It was the greatest wish her future self would hold for the children she called family, and Arthur chose to make that promise in her stead.
Faced with his sudden seriousness, Isabella felt her heart tremble. A strange warmth spread through her chest, an emotion she couldn't quite name. It felt like the comfort of someone who had been alone for far too long suddenly finding a companion, someone she could understand without needing words.
She quickly turned her head, hiding the tears welling in her eyes.
"Oh, Eren… you say such strange things."
She laughed softly, forcing brightness back into her voice.
"I'll send Nina off with a smile."
After wiping her tears, she looked toward the distance. There, a small figure clutched a plush kitten, reluctantly playing with the other children. The sight made Isabella's expression soften.
"I hope Nina remembers to write to us after she gets to her new home. None of the children who left before ever wrote back… Even though they all said they'd never forget us."
She paused, then smiled faintly.
"They must just be too happy in their new families."
Arthur said nothing. He simply watched the scene in silence, eyes fixed on the fragile little girl in the distance.
Tomorrow…