Chapter 10 – Into the Circle of Catherine
Thomas had now almost turned six.
It had been four years since he entered St. Theresia Orphanage, and much had changed. He was no longer the small, wide-eyed toddler clinging to Sister Mary's skirt. His body had grown leaner, his gait steadier, and his gaze sharper.
More importantly, so had his magic.
His spell Blink had now reached nearly 400 meters in range. It was no longer the clumsy, fear-driven reflex it had once been. With calm focus, he could move from the garden fence to the storage loft above the kitchen in an instant, leaving behind only the faintest shimmer.
Reach had also evolved. No longer limited to five meters, he could now summon or send small objects up to twenty meters away. It had become a habit, almost a reflex. Need a pencil? Reach. A marble lost behind the bookshelf? Reach. A key dropped behind the shed? Reach.
But even beyond his magic, Thomas had grown in ways few could see.
St. Theresia didn't send its children to public school. Instead, the orphanage used a homeschooling system, connecting with a licensing body that allowed children to learn at their own pace and test into qualifications. Sister Mary, ever vigilant, noticed Thomas's boundless curiosity and gave him full freedom to choose his own subjects.
He chose everything.
Mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, history, and English literature. He read constantly, borrowed books from local libraries, and occasionally borrowed academic papers when he could convince Sister Mary to request them.
Physics, in particular, made his mind reel. He was enchanted by the idea that the universe itself had patterns—formulas that governed how light bent, how time moved, how space could stretch or collapse. Some principles, like non-Euclidean geometry or quantum entanglement, made his old world of sigils and runes feel almost... primitive.
Yet for all the brilliance of numbers and theories, Thomas was haunted by something else.
Catherine.
It had taken him months of quiet watching, subtle questions, and hidden observations to build his suspicion. But it was there.
The children who vanished between the ages of six and ten—they all had one thing in common: contact with Catherine.
She didn't appear often. Catherine was tall, pale, with neatly braided dark hair and a voice that rarely raised above a whisper. She dressed professionally and walked with slow, deliberate steps. She never scolded. Never smiled either.
When she visited, children vanished.
He had tried once to sneak near the administrative wing when she came. He watched her walk with Mr. Graves through the hallway, speaking in hushed tones. She carried a slim, brown folder in her hand. He blinked into the shadows once, just to get closer, and caught the briefest glimpse of the label: Special Transfer
It made his stomach turn.
And now, he was next.
Sister Mary had told him the truth gently, days before his birthday. "Thomas, dear, you're Almost turning six now. Miss Catherine will be handling your case going forward. She'll want to talk to you soon. Nothing to worry about."
But Thomas was worried.
No—not worried. Focused.
This was his chance.
If he played this well, he could get close to Catherine. He could find out what happened to the others. He could understand the pattern, the purpose. And if necessary... escape.
He practiced scenarios in his mind. What to say. How to act. He needed to appear normal, cooperative, curious but not suspicious. Too much interest might make her cautious. Too little might make her dismissive.
And beneath it all, he would carry his trump cards:
Blink.
Reach.
A mind trained in science.
And a will sharpened by reincarnation.
Soon, the game would begin.