Anomaly Chapter 301 – The Primordial Fear [19]

(POV – Protagonist)

I caught a glimpse of Rupert talking to Emily about so kind of contract. I didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what contract he ant—his expression had been giving it away from the beginning.

And honestly, I can’t bla him for thinking that way—not with the situation we’re in, not when we’re about to head right back into the eye of the storm after barely escaping it.

Still, I have no intention of letting anyone die. Even if I don’t feel so deep sense of solidarity toward most of them, everyone here has soone waiting for them at ho, sowhere to return to. That, at the very least, I can understand.

By the ti their conversation wrapped up, we had finally narrowed down a location—or at least sothing close to one. The reaction team mbers wore expressions that were hard to decipher.

It wasn’t exactly fear. It felt more like a quiet, contained anxiety, as if everyone was trying to keep their composure despite the pressure building inside them. That was probably the best way to describe those uneasy looks.

I wondered what I could say. Was there anything that would actually calm them down? I doubted it. Personally, I wasn’t worried. I know I’m not going to die—no matter what happens. That certainty strips of fear... or maybe I’m just incapable of feeling it in my current state. But they aren’t. For them, all of this has real weight.

Honestly, I doubted that anything I said would ease the tension. So I just went with the first thing that crossed my mind, trying to keep my tone at least sowhat gentle.

(So... where to?) I projected ntally, letting my voice echo in their minds. I made an effort to keep it calm and clear—or at least as controlled as I could manage at the mont.

When they heard my thoughts, the reaction team mbers each reacted in their own way... but strangely, not in the way I expected. The tense expressions softened slightly—almost imperceptibly—as if a layer of pressure had been peeled away.

Their shoulders, which had been stiff and raised, lowered into a looser position—still alert, of course, but less burdened. Sohow, the atmosphere around them felt lighter, less suffocating.

I wasn’t sure if it was just my imagination, but that’s exactly what it felt like. And for so unknown reason, they all turned toward for a mont.

I noticed quick, subtle glances... and on each face, a quiet look of gratitude, as if I’d done sothing aningful—even though I had no idea what.

While I was still distracted, trying to make sense of their strange behavior, Victor’s voice cut through my thoughts: “Huh!” he exclaid, letting out an audible sigh before continuing: “Alright, people, let’s get this over with” His voice sounded steadier, less anxious, almost as if he’d found so kind of inner resolve.

“We all have families to go back to. Let’s do whatever it takes to make that happen. We’ll fight tooth and nail—that’s what we’ve always done, and that’s what we’ll keep doing. Nothing’s changed” After saying that, Victor turned to and nodded. He didn’t say a single word, but for so reason his gaze carried a silent gratitude.

I stared back at him, confused... Had I done sothing? He looked tired, but in a strange way—like he’d finally let so of the tension go. I blinked slowly, trying to understand the change in his expression, then tilted my head and asked hesitantly: (What exactly are you thanking for?)

The place fell silent. Victor didn’t answer—he didn’t even seem to have heard , as if his mind had been pulled sowhere far away.

Rupert, anwhile, wore an ironic little smile that didn’t match the fact that, just seconds ago, he’d been talking about his own life insurance. Arthur, on the other hand, was staring at with a strange look... In the end, yeah—I must have done sothing. I just had no idea what.

Either way, that wasn’t important right now. What mattered was that we finally had a direction. When I turned to Rupert for more answers, I noticed his face was twisted in a frown—or rather, an expression I couldn’t quite decipher.

I furrowed my brows, confused, and realized I wasn’t the only one who noticed his unsettling look. A brief silence hung in the air as everyone waited for him to speak.

Victor was the first to break it. He pressed two fingers to his temple, rubbing it slowly as he let out a weary sigh: “Judging by your expression... the news doesn’t look good” he said, still staring down at the ocean below.

Rupert didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, staring intently at the screen of his phone—or whatever that device actually was—with a tense sort of focus.

After a few seconds, he let out a long sigh and finally turned toward Victor and Arthur, who were watching him with serious faces: “The location...” he began, his voice a bit low: “It looks like it’s pointing sowhere out in the ocean”

His expression grew even stranger, as if he wasn’t entirely sure he was seeing things correctly. What he said next was unexpected enough to silence not only Victor and Arthur, but also every mber of the reaction team following along: “Apparently, the signal is coming from inside that thing in the water... the one we saw earlier”

Everyone fell silent—including . What the hell was that supposed to an? My little sister was inside the stomach of that subrged anomaly? The very thought made my stomach churn.

Honestly, I had no idea what to think. It’s not like I rembered much about Tenebrya—everything that ca to mind was scattered fragnts, faint mories of our interactions and of her authority... a presence that, even from afar, had always felt overwhelmingly significant.

Still lost in my own thoughts, I caught Rupert’s whisper—so low no one else would’ve heard it, yet clear enough to reach : “At least I don’t have to worry about the contract anymore,” he muttered, with a tone of relief that would sound innocent to anyone else. But I knew Rupert. And judging by his voice, that relief ca from all the wrong reasons.

I sighed inwardly and simply let my thoughts slip out loud as the black wings attached to my back beat softly at the air: Let’s just get this over with... I murmured. I think I really could go for so ice cream right now.

The silence that followed made everyone turn toward , wearing stunned expressions, as if I’d just said sothing completely absurd given the situation.

I ignored their looks, lifting my head toward the dark, cloudy sky above, letting the chilly breeze brush through the feathers of the wings connected to my tailbone. anwhile, my mind drifted away, imagining the ice cream flavors I’d try once all of this was finally over.

***

(POV — Victor Hale)

As they were being dragged through the air at high speed above the ocean, Victor glanced toward the other mbers of the group. Although they still carried an air of anxiety, they were noticeably calr than before.

Each of them had a steady glint in their eyes—a quiet but unwavering determination to get back ho. It wasn’t much, maybe, but it was enough.

After all, besides their own convictions, humans didn’t have extraordinary powers or abilities that could rival the anomalies surrounding them. They were driven only by willpower... and at that mont, that already ant everything.

With those thoughts churning in his mind, Victor turned to Arthur, who remained only a few steps away. He carefully adjusted the small device attached to his ear—sothing difficult to do with the cutting wind whipping his hair around—and after a brief burst of static, his voice reached Arthur clearly and directly: “Arthur... what do you think our chances are of making it back alive?”

Arthur slowly turned his gaze toward Victor. For a few seconds, silence hung between them, broken only by the muffled sound of the wind rushing around the anomaly holding them aloft.

Then, with a calm movent, Arthur tapped the device on his own ear and replied: “Honestly? Zero”

He said it without a hint of hesitation, as if he were rely stating the obvious. Victor opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Arthur cut him off before even the first word escaped: “Or, at least, that’s what I’d normally say considering this whole situation”

Arthur’s eyes shifted forward, settling on the shimring distortion carrying them through the sky. A subtle change in his expression made it clear sothing had shifted in his calculations: “After all... what chance do we humans really have against monsters like those?” he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion. Then he took a deep breath and continued, his tone slightly firr, almost as if he were regaining courage mid-sentence: “But still... it’s not like we’re completely helpless. We’ve got our own little monster on our side too”

Victor didn’t need to ask why he felt that way—deep down, he shared the exact sa impression. In fact, there had always been sothing strange—and at the sa ti comforting—about the presence of the Angel of Death.

Even in the most desperate monts, when anyone else would crumble under the weight of panic, Victor found himself surprisingly calm around her. It was as if her very existence carried a silent certainty that, no matter the problem, she’d find a way to solve it.

The thought drew a short, quiet laugh from Victor. It was truly ironic to realize that he was now relying on an anomaly—he, whose mission just a few months ago was to destroy any he encountered or bury them several feet underground without hesitation.

Of course, that didn’t an Victor had suddenly turned into so kind of peacekeeper—far from it. The only thing that had changed was his perspective.

He finally admitted to himself that, just like humans, not all anomalies were inherently evil... even if the rare exceptions were almost impossible to notice among the overwhelming number that truly were.