Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long for my legs to return to normal. Of course, by that point, I already felt like so newly discovered specin at a zoo — surrounded by dozens of curious onlookers, their eyes filled with a mix of fascination and unease.
The only difference? There was no cage separating them from . And, naturally, as soon as they noticed my peculiar appearance, the first assumptions started rolling in — fast and inevitable.
“Hey, isn’t that one of those... anomalies they showed on TV a while back?” asked a man, his voice uncertain as he squinted and furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
“I think it is...” replied a woman beside him, hesitation lacing her tone. Her gaze was fixed on the creature before her, and the slight tremor in her hands betrayed the nervousness she tried to hide: “But... didn’t they say those things could be dangerous? Is it really safe to be this close? What if it suddenly decides to attack us?”
“Wait—so those things actually exist?” another woman exclaid, disbelief clear in her voice. Her eyes widened, reflecting a mix of curiosity and fear: “I always thought that was just so kind of military propaganda, you know? Sothing to scare us off, to make people stop snooping around bases or spreading conspiracy stuff online”
Listening to the voices around , I realized I hadn’t really considered that perspective. I an, just because the world discovered the existence of anomalies doesn’t an most people actually understand or believe in them.
Thinking about the more isolated towns, it’s likely that many people there don’t even take the topic seriously — after all, they’ve never seen an anomaly up close, never witnessed an event caused by one. To them, it probably sounds more like distant stories or exaggerated rumors than sothing real.
Either way, as that thought crossed my mind, a faint tingling started spreading through my feet. It was a strange feeling — almost like tiny sparks running just beneath the skin... if I can still even call it skin. When I looked down, I realized both feet looked completely restored.
I shifted my weight, moving one foot after the other slowly, and even my toes responded with surprising precision. But seriously... how is that possible? I don’t have bones, or muscles — not even nerves.
So how the hell am I able to move my feet? Or any part of my body, for that matter? Then again, at this point, trying to understand how my body works after literally surviving a fall from space just feels like a complete waste of ti.
I an, ever since I woke up in this body — in that damp, silent forest — I was already aware that sothing was off. Small flaws, odd sensations, movents that didn’t feel like my own.
But after seeing my arm torn off and devoured right before my eyes, I just pushed all those thoughts to the back of my mind. In that mont, the only thing that mattered — the only thing I could think about — was survival. Surviving that. The mutant dogs that hunted like I was nothing more than prey in that suffocating forest.
(Anyway... now that my legs are finally back to normal, I can move again) I thought, slowly flexing my toes and feeling their movent once more: (Still, I can’t stop thinking about what that anomaly might be doing to Victor, Emily, and Laura... If sothing happens to them because of ...)
I jumped to my feet the mont that thought hit . Honestly, I didn’t have a second to waste. How long had it been since I showed up in this place? Minutes? Hours? The uncertainty gnawed at like a thorn under the skin.
As I stood up so abruptly, I noticed the stares around — the humans surrounding the crater I had created began murmuring to each other, drawing their own conclusions about my sudden movent. So stepped back; others just watched, caught between curiosity and fear.
That’s when the distant sound of sirens cut through the chatter, growing rapidly louder until it dominated the air. Within seconds, a line of black cars turned the corner, red and blue lights flashing against the wet asphalt and nearby shop windows.
They ca to a screeching halt just a few yards away, and the doors swung open almost in unison. n and won in uniform — police officers, or maybe mbers of so special unit — spread out with practiced precision, forming a tight periter.
Their voices rang out, firm and commanding, telling everyone to step back. The atmosphere shifted instantly: curiosity gave way to tense silence, and people began retreating, so trying to peek between the officers’ shoulders, others deciding to keep their distance.
A few held radios, murmuring quick, broken orders, while others kept their hands firmly on their weapons — fingers twitching, ready to react at the slightest wrong move.
Their eyes were locked on — cold, alert, studying every breath, as if one wrong step would make the whole situation collapse. The crowd, which monts ago had been buzzing with curiosity, now stood still in uneasy silence, forming a tense semicircle.
I studied the new faces in front of , curious. It was impossible not to notice how tense they looked — no matter the angle, fear was written all over them. Still, there was sothing different about these n compared to the civilians: they seed to have at least so vague idea of what I was.
When my gaze t one of the officers, his body reacted instantly, tensing up as if by instinct. He gripped the weapon at his holster tighter, and for a brief mont, I heard the faint creak of leather beneath his trembling fingers.
“Don’t move!” one of the officers shouted, his voice sharp but nervous. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, catching the glow of the flashing lights behind him. His expression betrayed more fear than authority: “One more step” he said, swallowing hard: “and we’ll take that as a direct threat to the law. We won’t hesitate to open fire!”
Honestly... how am I supposed to act in a situation like this? Every second here feels longer than it should. I really don’t want to cause a scene — not now — but it’s not like I can just stand here doing nothing either. What if they start shooting? Not that it would really hurt , but still... I don’t want to cause unnecessary chaos. Whatever. Emily, Laura, and Victor matter more than any of this.
The mont the thought crossed my mind, my eyes instinctively shifted toward the officer who had spoken earlier. As soon as he noticed my gaze, his body stiffened as if he’d been struck by an electric shock.
“H-Hey! I told you not to move!” his voice faltered, caught between fear and adrenaline: “Are you really planning to attack us?”
The tallic click of weapons being cocked echoed through the air right after, sharp and heavy, like an imminent warning that any wrong move could be the last.
I looked around, trying to process everything at once. The air was thick, saturated with the sll of gunpowder and the dust still slowly rising from the crater at my feet.
All around , every officer kept their weapons trained on —their trembling fingers resting on the triggers, pale faces and wide eyes unable to make sense of what they were seeing.
The mix of fear and disbelief etched into each expression made realize, with uncomfortable clarity, just how absurd and abnormal this scene must look from their point of view.
(No... I’m not going to attack anyone) My voice ca out steadier than I expected, almost authoritative, which surprised . For a mont, even the air seed to hesitate, heavy, as if my words carried more weight than they should. Still... well, whatever.
But my words didn’t seem to have any effect. So of them stepped back, others simply tightened their stance, adjusting their aim with trembling hands. The fear etched on their faces seed, honestly, disproportionate—there was sothing almost irrational in that look of terror. Yet when I put myself in their shoes, I realized that their reactions, however exaggerated, were... understandable.
I tried to take a single step forward—and that was enough to shatter the fragile silence. One of the officers, finger already on the trigger, shouted with a tense, commanding voice: “One more move and we shoot! You’ve been warned!”
The sound echoed through the air, mixing with the tallic snaps of weapons being raised. Even without looking directly, I could feel every gaze fixed on , ready to turn threat into action at the slightest slip.
I let out a deep sigh, bringing a hand to my head. It was no use—no matter how much I tried to act naturally, I always ended up looking suspicious. After all, to begin with... I’m not even human.
(This is a waste of ti...) I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to them, my tone heavy with irritation and exhaustion: (I don’t have ti for this nonsense)
In the end, I chose to simply ignore them. I let my body sink slowly into the ground, as if the earth were silently taking in. Of course, my action didn’t go unnoticed by the officers—one single command was enough to turn the place into a real shooting range: “Open fire! He’s trying to escape!”
The next instant, a deafening barrage of gunfire roared across the area, reverberating off the walls like continuous thunder. It lasted only a few seconds, but the number of bullets fired easily surpassed eighty. When the sound finally died down, only the faint clinking of spent shells hitting the ground remained.
My body? It looked like a sieve—riddled with holes, unrecognizable. Yet I felt no pain. No burning, no weight. Even though the bullets had torn through , the wounds—or rather, the holes opened by the rounds—closed instantly, as if they had never existed. The dry snap of tal against my flesh was followed by an almost sepulchral silence. The officers, witnessing this, imdiately ceased firing.
Their expressions were a mix of terror and disbelief; wide eyes, trembling hands still gripping their weapons as though they were staring at sothing impossible. To them, I was no longer human. I was sothing beyond comprehension, a monster born from darkness, poised either to destroy the world or reshape it in my own image.
On the other hand, my thoughts were far less complex than they probably imagined. In truth, only one thing filled my mind at that mont: worry about Emily, Laura, and Victor. By the ti I returned, they could very well be dead... or worse.
Personally, I’ve never been sure if anything can truly be worse than death—but when it cos to anomalies, that doubt vanishes. If anyone could turn death itself into a rcy, it would be them. And, unfortunately, their creativity in such things was sothing I’d rather never witness up close.
With that last thought, I felt my body give way completely, sinking into the ground until I was swallowed by a dark, shadowy world. As soon as I crossed that threshold, I didn’t hesitate. I closed my eyes and, with all my strength, imagined the park where I had been before. In the blink of an eye, I vanished from there and reappeared in the emptiness of space.
At the exact mont of the transition, I felt my body “move” from one point to another—or perhaps compress, stretch, dissolve? I really couldn’t say. The sensation was so strange, almost impossible to describe, that I still wasn’t sure what to call it.
Either way, as soon as that strange feeling of “moving” faded, I took a deep breath and decided to open my eyes. The very mont I lifted my gaze, I realized I was in a park.
I felt my body glide out of that shadowy world, as if a dense fog were slowly dissolving around . The grass beneath my feet was still damp, and the air carried the fresh scent of soil and fallen leaves.
I had definitely returned to the park—there was no doubt about that—but I still wasn’t entirely sure where exactly I was within it. Either way, this wasn’t the ti to explore. There was sothing more urgent to do—find Victor, Emily, and Laura. And, if luck was still on my side, find them alive.
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