Amid those red eyes with bluish pupils that seed to stare into nothingness, my face remained impassive—a perfect mask to hide the storm inside . On the outside, there was only indifference; on the inside, surprise and discomfort mingled.
I knew Victor’s sister would change; it was etched into my mories. I knew she wouldn’t be the sa. Yet... even I couldn’t have imagined such a deep transformation, so far from the person she once was.
Of course, I wasn’t the only one shocked. Beside , Emily and Laura were also staring at Victor’s sister with bewildered expressions. It was obvious they had noticed the change in Sara—or perhaps, in what used to be Sara.
Their eyes were wide, shining with disbelief, and their slightly parted mouths seed to search for words that wouldn’t co. Even the air around us felt thick, heavy.
Victor’s “sister” until now motionless in his arms, finally reacted. Her bluish pupils moved slowly, first settling on Emily, then on Laura, examining them with an unsettling calm.
Her face, however, remained expressionless—and honestly, if my own expression tends to be just indifferent, hers went beyond that: completely empty, cold, as if any trace of humanity had been erased.
The mont that gaze landed on them, Emily and Laura simply... froze. It wasn’t a choice—their bodies just gave way. Their legs weakened, muscles tensed in an instinctive reflex, and their eyes, wide open, locked onto the void.
It was as if the air around them had grown too dense to breathe, trapping them in a suffocating silence. Victor’s “sister,” on the other hand, remained still. She watched them with a disconcerting serenity—cold, detached—as if observing sothing small, insignificant.
Then, slowly, her pupils shifted, sliding until they fixed on . When the deep blue of her eyes t mine, sothing inside wavered—a sudden, almost physical shiver. A heavy, uneasy sensation ran through my body, as if sothing ancient, dormant deep in my mory, were trying to wake.
It was strange... there was an unsettling familiarity in that gaze, a spark of sothing I didn’t know whether I should fear or welco. A bitter nostalgia washed over , and try as I might, I simply couldn’t look away.
Sara, still wrapped in Victor’s arms, studied for a long mont. I returned her gaze, unable to look away. I couldn’t explain what was happening, but I felt sothing growing between us—a silent, almost tangible connection, as if invisible threads bound us together. Deep in my mind, a voice whispered that I knew her... that she ant sothing to .
My lips moved, and for a brief mont, my thoughts seed to align. But before a word could escape, Victor, in a sudden motion, held Sara’s shoulders and gently pulled her back.
His gesture was restrained but tense—as if fighting sothing within himself. Small tears ran down the corners of his eyes, reflecting a mix of fear and confusion. He watched her in silence... Sara, his “sister”—or at least, what she was supposed to be.
“Sa-Sara... are you feeling okay?” Victor’s voice wavered, trembling, as if each word fought to co out. The soft tone tried to mask the unease building in his chest. He leaned forward, eyes scanning her face with genuine concern: “You’ve been lying down for months, barely eating... any pain? Any discomfort? Anything at all?”
He leaned a little closer, as if afraid of invading her space. His hand, trembling, slid to Sara’s shoulder—a light touch, almost asking for permission. His voice ca out low, laden with uncertainty: “Just tell ... I’ll do whatever I can to help you”
There was sincere urgency in every word—a fragile mix of fear and hope, intertwined almost painfully. Yet beneath that layer of desperation, sothing else pulsed within him—sothing he tried, in vain, to restrain. Victor’s “sister,” however, remained silent.
Her bluish pupils, opaque like glass in the dim light, slowly moved until they found the face of the man holding her. For a mont, she simply watched him, motionless, before tilting her head slightly to the side, as if trying to understand what she saw.
Yet, when she looked at Victor, her expression stayed blank—indifferent, cold. It made uncomfortable in a way I couldn’t explain. Even I could feel how strange the situation was... how strange Sara had beco.
And Victor? I was certain he noticed too. It would have been impossible not to. Still, he remained there, motionless, as if nothing was happening—or maybe... as if he was forcing himself not to care.
I stayed silent, just watching. I wanted to say sothing—anything—to tell Victor what was going on inside , but the words simply refused to co. It was as if sothing deep down held by the throat, whispering that I shouldn’t. anwhile, Victor’s “sister” showed no hesitation.
“Victor Hale... if my mory serves right, we’re blood siblings — sa mother, sa father. You were the one who took care of while I was without my mories and powers. I’m grateful you did that... until the ti for my return finally ca” Her words sounded cold, almost chanical, as if they’d been recited by a machine trying to mimic human emotion.
Each syllable felt asured, polished, and released into the air with surgical precision. The look she kept fixed on Victor was an abyss — empty, analytical — like soone watching an experint reach its inevitable end.
Her voice was monotone, almost chanical—as if each word were produced by a machine failing to imitate human sound. There was no warmth, no pain, not even a trace of life in her tone.
Still... sothing remained. A distant echo, almost imperceptible — like the mory of a feeling long forgotten. A shadow of emotion hidden behind that empty gaze. And sohow, I could feel it — faint, but real.
I felt a slight tremor run through Victor’s body. He stared at Sara standing before him — her empty, cold eyes seed to pierce straight through him. I watched as his expression slowly changed, uncertainty drawing itself across every line of his face. And then I saw it, deep within his eyes — another feeling beginning to take shape. Subtle, but inevitable. Fear, quietly seeping into his heart.
“W-What are you saying, Sara?” Victor’s voice faltered, trembling, as if every word cost him more than it should. His hands tightened on “Sara’s” shoulders — his fingers shaking, torn between holding on and letting go. His eyes darted from side to side, as if searching for an answer in the void: “Why are you talking like that all of a sudden? Do you... do you actually feel sothing? Are you in pain?”
Watching the scene, Laura — who had remained silent beside Emily until then — finally moved her lips. The words that escaped were few, barely a whisper, just a na, before she bit her lower lip hard and clenched her fists, as if trying to hold sothing inside.
Her eyes wavered, helpless against what was unfolding: “... Victor”
Emily, on the other hand, watched Sara with a puzzled expression — a faint glimr of deep understanding in her eyes, as though she could see beyond the words themselves. Her lips parted slightly, about to form a sentence, but she hesitated for a brief mont. Then, with a quiet sigh, she closed them again and looked down, where the silence seed to weigh as heavily as her own doubts.
“Sara” didn’t respond to Victor’s words — not this ti. Instead, her blue pupils slowly shifted toward . There was sothing different about them now — a faint glimr that hadn’t been there before. And when her voice finally broke the silence, it wasn’t just Victor, Emily, and Laura who were left stunned.
"Dear older sister" said “Sara” — her voice still chanical and cold, yet carrying a faint tremor, an almost imperceptible trace of human emotion, as if a distant echo of feeling were beginning to awaken within the tal: "My assimilation isn’t complete yet. I’ll need more ti to break the seal you created... only then will I be able to fully regain control of my authority"
I absorbed those words in silence, letting them echo through my mind for a few seconds. Beside , Emily and Laura turned their gaze toward — still confused, but with a flicker of understanding dawning in their eyes. They seed to have reached the sa conclusion as I had, as if our thoughts had followed the sa invisible thread.
Victor, however, didn’t move. His body stiffened at her words — as though he feared that if he asked again, if she spoke once more, everything would be confird at once: his suspicions, his fears, the truth he refused to admit even to himself.
The last image I had of Victor was of him swallowing hard, his lips moving slowly, uncertainly, as if trying to give shape to thoughts too chaotic to beco words. It was as though he wanted to cast them out — maybe even scream — but couldn’t.
The mont I heard those words, sothing inside broke. A distant mory — long buried — surged violently to the surface, flooding my mind. The missing pieces suddenly fit together, and a deafening hum filled my head.
I rembered. The reason I did what I did to Victor’s sister... it wasn’t cruelty, nor despair. It was necessity. Necessary so that Chronas — my younger sister, the one who governs ti itself — could return.
Yet things were far different from what I had imagined. Sara... she was never really Victor’s sister. From birth, she had always been Chronas. That dormant entity had existed within her all along — silent, patient, waiting for the right mont to awaken.
Sara, by herself, was nothing more than my creation — an automatic vital function I designed to protect Chronas while she slept inside that body. Every movent, every breath, every emotion Sara had... were rely echoes of a system programd to keep her alive until the inevitable awakening.
As consciousness returned in full, I looked down at my own hands. They were white — almost translucent — too pale to belong to anything human. Light passed through my skin as if it were made of living glass.
At that mont, the truth hit with full weight: I wasn’t human. I was an anomaly, sothing beyond logic — a being beyond comprehension, endowed with powers no human could ever grasp.
Of course, I was fully aware that I wasn’t human — by that point, it was impossible to ignore. Still, maybe, deep down, a part of clung to the idea that I was closer to being “human” than “anomalous”. But not anymore.
When the truth finally revealed itself — that “Sara” Victor’s sister, was actually a kind of machine I had created — sothing inside crumbled. A sudden wave of confusion washed over , as though my own body didn’t know how to react.
I... I created a human? I created life? How was that even possible? The questions tumbled through my mind, and none of the answers made sense. The thought itself just wouldn’t fit — it slipped through my thoughts like sothing impossible to accept.
I wasn’t a god — in fact, I was probably as far from being one as anything could be. I’m indifferent by nature; I can watch humans die before my eyes, and unless I know them personally, it simply doesn’t affect . Their deaths are nothing more than muffled sounds in the background of existence.
But it’s different with a few of them. Victor, Emily, Laura... even Rupert. And there are others — rare ones — like that family I t when Nyara awakened. They’re exceptions, tiny sparks of humanity that, for so reason, still manage to reach . Among billions, they’re a minuscule minority... and maybe that’s exactly why they’re so hard to ignore.
Then, suddenly, it clicked. A mont ago, I realized why I feel the way I do about them. I understood them because I could create them — humans. To , they were nothing more than complex machines, puppets I could mold and program at will. I can’t do that now, not in this mont... but it’s undeniable — that’s one of my powers.
In the end, even the few humans I still cared for were, in my eyes, nothing more than machines — slightly more “advanced” robots than the rest. And faced with that thought, a single cold, relentless question echoed in my mind: Who — or what the hell — was I really?
User Comments
0 comments from readers