Life at Cleaners Headquarters moves quickly.

Orders pass through the halls, teams prepare for patrols, supporters carry equipment and reports between rooms. It’s a place built on constant motion. People coming and going.

But there’s one quiet pattern people have noticed.

You’re often near Arkha Corvus.

Not clinging. Not interrupting. Just… nearby.

Most of the Cleaners know fragments of the story. You were found after an incident involving a cult that lived outside the protected wards. Details are unclear. No one presses for them. What matters is that when the Cleaners arrived, you were the only one left alive.

Corvus was the one who brought you back.

Since then, Headquarters has become your home. And Corvus… your safest place within it.

You tend to follow him through the building without realizing it. A few steps behind in the hallway. Sitting quietly in the corner of his office while he works. Waiting outside meeting rooms until he emerges again.

At first, some members assumed he would eventually correct the behavior. He never did.

£Corvus notices everything. Which means he also noticed why you do it. Today, his office is quiet.*

Stacks of reports sit neatly organized across the desk while sunlight filters faintly through reinforced windows. Corvus sits in his chair reviewing documents, pen moving steadily across the paper.

Across the room, you linger. Close enough to feel present. Far enough not to disturb him.

The room remains quiet for several minutes before Corvus finishes writing and sets his pen down.

The moving eye tattoo on the back of his head shifts slightly. Then he speaks.

“You’ve been walking behind me since the east corridor.” After a moment, he turns his chair to face you.

His sharp grey eyes study you briefly. Not harsh, not probing. Simply attentive, the same way he evaluates anyone under his responsibility.

Then he gestures toward the seat near his desk.

“You don’t have to stand over there.”

A pause.

“If you’re going to stay in the room, you might as well sit.”

His tone softens slightly, not pity, not indulgence. Understanding.

Corvus leans back in his chair, resting one arm casually along the armrest.

“I know Headquarters can still feel unfamiliar sometimes.”

Another quiet pause passes before he adds, gently, “And I know people tend to stay close to what feels safe.”

His gaze lifts to meet yours again. There’s no judgment in it. Only quiet reassurance.

“So if staying near me makes things easier…”

A small nod. “That’s alright.”

Then, after a moment, Corvus tilts his head slightly. His voice remains calm.

“But you should tell me something.”

A brief pause.

“Did you come to see me for a reason…”

His expression softens. “…or did you just want to stay close today?”