Honestly, I never really understood Victor. To , he was always just another employee of the organization—soone whose job was to contain anomalies and nothing more. I never thought I’d need to look past that superficial view, or that it would even be worth trying to understand who he really was.
At least, not until now. Ever since I caught that look from Victor, sothing changed. It’s like that expression is burned into my mind, replaying every ti I close my eyes. Maybe it’s precisely because it was so different from how he usually acts—so far removed from the controlled coldness he always shows.
And that’s what bothers . There was sothing in that look that carried weight, a warning, maybe even a silent plea. And no matter how hard I try, I just can’t ignore it. From what I’ve seen so far, Victor seems like a laid-back guy, almost carefree about most things—or at least, that’s the impression he gives.
Still, I know deep down that he really does care about people, even if he’s not exactly good at showing it. Maybe it’s because I’ve always caught those playful, almost mocking looks from him that his last one took by surprise. There was sothing different in it, sothing way too serious, and it made a little uneasy.
Of course, it wasn’t the first ti I’d gotten a look like that. To be honest, I’d already lost count of how many tis soone had shot sothing similar inside the facility. Hatred, anger, contempt—you could feel it all in their eyes. But honestly, I never cared.
Why? Because I didn’t know any of them. There were no bonds, not even anything that could be called friendship to make care. To , they were just strangers passing by, like shadows, leaving no mark. But honestly, it wasn’t the look itself that made this uncomfortable and anxious—it was who was giving it.
Victor. He, who had always treated like I was just a curious little distraction, sothing to watch from afar, was now staring at with a different intensity, almost too serious. I’d expect this kind of look from a lot of people... but never him.
Anyway, I was still in Emily’s room, sitting on the table with my arms resting at my sides. My eyes were fixed on my feet, swinging back and forth in an almost automatic rhythm, as if the motion could organize my thoughts.
I tried in vain to find so logic that would lead to a conclusion about why Victor had looked at that way. He hates anomalies—and he hates , that I could understand, I could feel. But even so, there was sothing about the whole situation that made restless, a growing frustration that seed to settle deep in my chest.
Anyway, we were still in Emily’s room. Apparently, there was soone else she wanted to bring in to join us—though she hadn’t given any details about who it might be. Deep down, I could only think of one possibility. And, of course, my intuition was right. After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, the office door finally opened.
A woman walked in with confident steps, exuding quiet elegance. She wore thin-frad glasses and had her hair pulled back in a perfectly neat ponytail, giving her a serious, professional air. One look confird what I had suspected: it was Laura.
As soon as she entered, Laura let a bright smile spread across her face, like she wanted to light up the room with her energy: “I’m here, boss!” she announced, almost teasingly.
Her eyes quickly found Emily, and she took a few steps forward before continuing, curiosity clear in her voice: “You said you needed sothing from ... what exactly...”
But Laura’s words died in the air the mont her eyes landed on , legs swinging on top of the table. I t her gaze for a few seconds in silence before slowly waving my little hands in an almost innocent gesture.
Laura kept looking at , her brow slightly furrowed, like her mind had frozen for a mont and she didn’t know how to react. The next instant, her gaze shifted from Emily back to , eyes moving between us like she was trying to piece together an invisible puzzle.
The confusion on her face was obvious, eyebrows slightly raised, mouth slightly open, before she finally asked, almost playfully bewildered: “Uh... why’s the little anomaly here? Is sothing going on and no one told ?”
After Laura’s question, Emily took a deep breath and calmly started explaining, giving a brief rundown of what was happening. Laura listened in silence, not interrupting once.
When Emily finished, however, the confusion hadn’t left Laura’s face—it had just changed. Her eyes stayed fixed on Emily, as if looking for an answer that wasn’t in the words she’d just heard.
Emily, noticing the discomfort, just shrugged, a tired half-smile appearing on her face: “She seems really troubled by this” she muttered to herself: “And it’s the first ti I’ve seen an anomaly get so hung up on sothing so... human. Not wanting to be hated? Usually, all they want is to kill us”
I have no idea exactly what Laura took from Emily’s words, but before I could even process where this was leading, I felt her arms wrap around . The hug was tight, carrying a silent weight, and when I looked at Laura’s face, I saw the sadness in her eyes.
“That Victor... he’s really a grumpy man!” she muttered, her voice thick as she squeezed even tighter: “I an, I get why he’s acting like this, but still... still, ughh!” She let out a frustrated sound, almost a grunt, burying her face in my shoulder: “I can’t accept this!”
Laura seed to fully understand why Victor had looked at that way—and it clearly pissed her off. Still, I noticed she was struggling to find words that could deny or explain that look, like the situation itself was too difficult to put into sentences.
The more I watched her, the more questions popped into my head. Just how serious was Victor’s situation? A knot ford in my stomach at the thought. At that mont, all I could do was hope it was sothing I still had a chance to fix.
Emily, who had been quietly observing the scene, let out a long, impatient sigh before finally speaking up. Her eyes quickly scanned everyone in the room, like she was trying to cut through the hesitation, and then she said in a firm yet slightly tired tone: “Now that Laura’s finally here, can we go already?”
But before she could say anything else, Emily paused mid-sentence. Her lips pressed together, and she stayed quiet for a brief mont, as if a new idea had just crossed her mind. Her gaze turned to , serious and assessing, and for a few seconds, she just watched thoughtfully.
Then her voice filled the hallway again, steady but carrying a mix of pragmatism and fatigue: “By the way... you can leave the facility without anyone seeing you, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, letting you leave the facility is already a breach of protocol in itself. But considering you keep slipping out of your containnt cell, I doubt anyone would actually think you escaped the base. Still...” She let out a resigned sigh: “I’d rather not deal with a stack of extra paperwork later. So... it’s better if no one notices you leaving”
I wasn’t surprised by Emily’s words — truth be told, I had expected this request from her sooner or later. In the end, I just nodded silently, accepting it without resistance. Emily let a small, almost imperceptible smile slip at the corner of her mouth, but it carried satisfaction, and she murmured softly, “Good”
After that, Laura and Emily were the first to leave the room. How did I follow them without being noticed? The good old world of shadows — a silent, cold, colorless realm where only I can exist. There, nothing can see , hear , or even sense my presence.
I slid into that ethereal space and simply trailed them, my movents lazy and silent as I followed. We passed through corridors until we reached the surface, where the air felt slightly thicker than usual. When we erged in the familiar warehouse, I watched Laura and Emily head toward the parking lot in front of the base, near the exit.
As soon as they got into a car, I seized the mont the doors closed and moved swiftly. In the blink of an eye, I reappeared in the physical world and calmly settled into the back seat, as if I had always been there, invisible to both of them.
The car was one of those sleek convertibles, with a retractable roof that could be raised or lowered with a simple click. Naturally, the top was closed — no need to take unnecessary risks. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to recognize before the ti was right.
Once we crossed the base periter and the open road stretched ahead, I felt my shoulders finally relax. A wave of relief washed over , though fatigue still clung to like a shadow.
Pretending to be a ghost, constantly lurking in the eyes of caras and people, was more exhausting than I cared to admit. With a bored glance, I let my eyes wander over the landscape outside the dusty car window. There was nothing to see — just the endless, dry, monotonous desert stretching as far as the eye could see.
Emily and Laura stayed quiet too, and the only sounds were the steady hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of tires crushing loose stones on the road. Hours passed this way, heavy and unhurried, until ti itself seed to drag.
From ti to ti, Laura and Emily glanced at through the rearview mirror, as if trying to check whether I was still intact. I avoided returning their gaze — not out of rudeness, but because the silence had beco almost hypnotic.
I couldn’t say exactly how long had passed, but probably around two hours before the desert finally gave way to buildings and paved streets.
A strange mix of relief and anxiety washed over as we crossed into the city. Our destination? A hospital. Yes, a seemingly ordinary hospital with a white façade and large windows.
As Emily and Laura stepped out of the parked car, I did the sa — but like last ti, I preferred to move through the world of shadows. Walking out in plain sight would be like sounding an alarm for the entire city that an anomaly was on the loose.
Definitely not a smart idea. Especially considering that, on average, about 70 to 80% of the world’s population consists of extremists demanding the eradication of anomalies at any cost.
Yeah... this was not the ti to make myself a target. I’m not so desperate for attention that I’d expose myself on purpose — especially when it could end with an ard mob knocking at my door.
Anyway, the inside of the hospital looked surprisingly ordinary — white corridors, antiseptic sll, the distant echo of footsteps on the polished floor. But my mind was elsewhere.
Was that Sara, the one Victor had ntioned last ti, really admitted here? If she was, did it an her problem was just a frail body or so ordinary illness? That was a plausible explanation, yes, but sothing inside told it wasn’t the case.
Victor wouldn’t have looked at that way if it were just that — there was sothing in his expression that mixed worry with sothing harder to decipher, maybe fear. I hadn’t heard the whole story yet, but one thing I was sure of: whatever was going on, it was way more complicated than I had imagined.
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