(POV – Protagonist)
Ignoring the constant shouting echoing behind , I kept my flight steady as I headed toward the so-called “Eye of the Hurricane” A cute nickna, honestly, considering the kind of thing that actually lives in that place.
I noticed I was flying a bit faster than before—not enough to cause any physical discomfort to Victor, Arthur, Rupert, or any other mber of the anomaly-response team, but fast enough to make sure we didn’t waste ti.
Among the chaos of voices, Rupert’s scream was definitely the one that stood out the most: “She’s... totally... doing this... on purpose!” he yelled, forcing each word out between breaths, his voice dragged away by the fierce wind as if it were stealing the air from his lungs. His eyes were half-shut, trying to see through the gusts, frustration written all over his tense expression.
I watched Rupert’s face as he spoke. His expression was filled with fear, and his eyes stayed closed most of the ti, as if he believed the world would disappear if he simply refused to look at it.
In a way, he looked like a ragdoll tossed aside—tense, fragile, almost codic. Of course, I wasn’t doing this on purpose to scare him. But let’s be honest: it’s not like he’s going to die anyway.
Besides, the sooner we reach the target, the sooner we can go ho. I’m definitely not rushing because I suddenly got an overwhelming craving for ice cream. Not at all.
Beating the black wings on my back harder, I gained a bit more speed. The wind sliced past my ears in a constant, roaring stream, but even so, another one of Rupert’s comnts carried clearly to , as if he were right beside : “What the hell... why is she speeding up!?”
I ignored Rupert’s words and kept my focus ahead. We were flying toward the part of the ocean where the clouds looked even heavier, a loaded gray that hung almost down to the horizon.
Thunder rumbled across the sky nonstop, and between flashes, the thing above us began to take shape again. Maybe that’s why everyone had gone completely silent—even Rupert.
The anomaly was still colossal as always, a massive shadow carved into the stormy sky. But this ti, I couldn’t see any of its tentacles swaying among the clouds. And more than anything, sothing confused more than its looming presence: I didn’t feel any intention of attack from it.
Of course, I didn’t assu it had suddenly beco friendly. The truth was, I was flying dangerously close to the ocean—so low that if I reached down, I could easily feel the cold water brushing against my fingers. Each wingbeat kicked up salty spray, like the ocean was trying to grab .
And in the distance, the massive whirlpool in the middle of the sea was already visible. Because I was flying lower, the only things truly clear were the jagged teeth rising from the water, along with the spinning, restless motion of the ocean being pulled into the depths of that anomaly’s mouth.
Just thinking about having to go inside that thing already made feel a bit dizzy—maybe I’m claustrophobic and just haven’t realized it yet? Anyway, setting my rambling aside, the creature floating in the sky stayed there, watching, but not attacking.
Of course, I wasn’t naive enough to believe it had suddenly experienced a crisis of conscience and decided to be nice.
The most logical explanation was that it wasn’t attacking because I was practically glued to the surface of the ocean. It’s happened before, so it’s not like I’m surprised.
Back to the present: as I approached the point where the whirlpool grew stronger, I slowly increased my altitude—not enough to draw the attention of the anomaly hidden above the clouds, just enough to position myself safely, hovering right over the turbulent “mouth” of the anomaly.
The mbers of the response team remained silent, but their expressions said everything: uneasy looks, fingers tapping against their weapons, a few faces quietly pale, like their stomachs were already protesting before we’d even begun.
I felt a bit guilty about that last part... although, honestly, they probably would’ve gotten nauseous anyway the mont we stepped inside the anomaly. In the end, it doesn’t really change much.
Lost in my thoughts, Rupert spoke, his tone dripping with sarcasm: “Can’t believe we’re actually doing this...” he muttered with a long sigh, as if trying to exhale all his worries at once. He continued, shaking his head: “I’ve had to run from anomalies trying to eat before, but I never thought I’d willingly walk straight into the mouth of one...”
I listened in silence. From that perspective, it really did resemble what I went through when I awakened as an anomaly in the forest—except back then, one of them actually ripped my arm off.
Ironically, now I was about to willingly walk into the mouth of another creature, all to rescue one of my sisters. Life really does have a strange and mysterious way of turning things around sotis.
Arthur joined in on the joke as well, adopting a light, easygoing tone: “There’s a first ti for everything, I guess. At least the view is gonna be unforgettable... in more than one way”
The last part ca out almost like a murmur, low and barely audible, as he looked away and let out a short laugh, trying to hide his own teasing.
Leaving behind the conversation echoing behind , the wings attached to my back beat softly in a steady rhythm, as if they were trying to calm my own anxiety. My body moved forward slowly toward the center of that massive mouth, which looked big enough to swallow the entire ocean.
I leaned forward a bit to look inside—and honestly, I could only see a few feet ahead. Past that, there was only a darkness so dense it seed alive. In short: I had no idea what was waiting for down there.
My first thought was that maybe there was another anomaly inside. But truthfully, even to , that sounded absurd.
Why would there be one anomaly inside another? Setting aside the fact that I’m willingly entering this thing’s stomach, I can’t imagine any anomaly that would do sothing like that. They say anomalies have thoughts and behaviors beyond human comprehension—but that doesn’t an they’re stupid.
I glanced one last ti at the gray sky. The thunderstorms rumbled in the distance, nonstop, lighting up the clouds in brief, uneven flashes. And it was between those bursts of light that the massive—colossal—body of the anomaly appeared for a single instant, only to vanish again, swallowed by the turbulent clouds.
In those gaps between flashes, I could feel clearly that—as much as I watched it—the anomaly floating above the clouds was also staring right back at .
I couldn’t see any eyes, just its distorted silhouette carved out by the light, but every ti the sky split open in a new flash, a tingling crawled up my skin like tiny warning needles.
It was that sa uneasy, inevitable feeling of being watched. And as ridiculous as it sounded, I was absolutely sure of it.
For a mont, I even worried about everyone’s well-being once we finally went down. I had no idea how deep we’d have to go, so I wondered if the water pressure would end up being a problem for them.
But considering that we’d technically be inside the stomach of the aquatic anomaly, that rule probably stops applying—the environnt in there must follow completely different logic.
Either way, I shrugged with indifference and started descending. I passed between the anomaly’s teeth and slowly moved through its mouth.
It was a strange feeling—almost like jumping into a canyon—but with one crucial difference: canyons normally aren’t alive, much less breathing around you.
The warm air rising from the depths of the anomaly ca up in irregular bursts, making my clothes flutter as I continued downward.
Honestly, this was, without a single doubt, the craziest thing I’d ever done in my entire life—or at least in the part of it I could still rember. Walking into the mouth of a colossal aquatic monster whose true size I could barely even imagine? Yeah... not exactly the kind of adventure you find on anyone’s calendar.
The farther we went, the more the darkness swallowed us. The light coming from the sky—or rather, from outside the anomaly’s mouth—seed to struggle to reach this depth, weakening with every foot.
We were surrounded by masses of pulsing flesh that moved in a grotesquely slow way, as if breathing around us. The entire group looked nauseated by the sight—so swallowed hard, others looked away, trying in vain to find a less repulsive point to focus on.
I wasn’t that different from them—the only distinction was that while their expressions gave away their discomfort, my own thoughts remained oddly mundane.
Sothing like: (This is kinda gross) I muttered internally, observing the twisted interior of the anomaly like soone assessing an unpleasant situation, but one still too distant to spark imdiate panic.
The first to break the silence was, once again, Rupert, with a comnt that sounded sarcastic and serious at the sa ti: “The view’s definitely not great... and the worst part is that I feel like this is gonna be pretty hard to forget” he grumbled in a disgusted tone as he looked at the organic, pulsing walls of what we assud was the anomaly’s throat. Rupert wrinkled his nose: “This is... disgusting. On several levels”
Most of the group agreed, nodding silently, though still wearing expressions of pure disgust. Actually, I could sense that one of the mbers positioned just above was struggling to keep his mouth shut... He wouldn’t throw up on , right? That would be... indescribably worse than the inside of this anomaly—and that already said a lot.
I ignored the rest of the voices echoing around and kept descending at a slow but steady pace. My wings beat softly—not enough to gain altitude, but enough to keep my body suspended as I sank into that silent abyss. With each flap, the air seed to grow heavier, colder.
My golden eyes, shining like headlights in the middle of the night, cut through the darkness ahead of . Even so, their faint light still seed to be swallowed by the endless black void stretching below—a bottomless emptiness.
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