(POV – Laura Cavendish)
Sitting in her private office, Laura stared up at the ceiling for an indeterminate amount of ti, her back sinking into the chair. Her eyes stayed fixed, but her mind drifted aimlessly—she wasn’t thinking about anything in particular and, paradoxically, was thinking about everything at once. Small ambient noises slipped by unnoticed as she allowed herself to be carried by that strange, scattered sense of calm.
Laura’s mind was still buzzing with the events of the past few hours. Anomalous cases kept appearing from ti to ti—entire families found dead under inexplicable circumstances.
Even after they had finally uncovered the possible reason behind it all, the feeling of helplessness lingered. Deep down, she knew that no matter how hard they tried, there was still very little they could actually do.
Although Laura hated to admit it, ever since the appearance of the [Angel of Death], anomalous cases had escalated far beyond the capacity of any organization made up solely of humans. In this situation, there was no other choice but to rely on anomalies to fight anomalies.
The only problem? Anomalies weren’t exactly known for their cooperation. Even the ones classified as Special—which, in theory, were supposed to support the [Angel of Death] in certain missions—still proved unpredictable, temperantal, and at the very least, troubleso to deal with.
However, recently, two anomalies had been producing surprisingly positive results. Of course, in the end, anomalies were still anomalies—unpredictable by nature—but these two in particular showed no signs of attacking humans without a plausible reason.
On the contrary, they displayed far more rational and stable behavior than other anomalies classified as Special. Even so, despite that apparent level of control, letting them roam freely would be far too risky. Any slip could turn that supposed rationality into an irreversible disaster.
Although it was likely that the [Angel of Death] would have to interact with those two anomalies at so point, things should go smoothly... or so it was hoped. Probably.
Letting out a long sigh, Emily stood up from her chair and shrugged off her lab coat with a movent that was tired yet resolute. Her gaze, steady and focused, reflected renewed determination as she walked back down the corridor toward the room where the operation was still underway.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
The farther we descended, the less light remained. Darkness thickened around us like a suffocating veil, and my eyes could no longer keep track of anything beyond a few feet ahead.
Maybe the only upside was exactly that: wrapped in that heavy shadow, we could no longer see the anomaly’s throat or the mass of twisted flesh that moved in uneven pulses—assuming we’d even want to see it in the first place.
Even from my perspective as an anomaly—one that barely feels things like nausea or discomfort—the sight of that thing was grotesque enough to be impossible to ignore.
It’s not like I was suddenly going to throw up, but I can’t deny that just looking at it could make anyone’s stomach churn. In my case, it triggered an instinctive, almost primal hesitation toward getting closer... or worse, touching it.
The downside to all of this? The darkness. It was so dense I could barely see past my own legs—the only part of my eyes could still illuminate.
A quiet thought crossed my mind as I stared down into the seemingly endless descent we were being dragged into. Judging by the uneasy looks around , one of the response team mbers was thinking the sa thing.
“This is one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had” the team mber muttered, swallowing hard as he cast a nervous glance at the darkness below: “S-so nothing’s gonna jump up from down there and, uh... eat us, right?”
I noticed a faint shiver ripple collectively through the rest of the team at his words. Even whispered, they echoed in the near-absolute silence around us. It was so quiet that, honestly, I could distinguish each heartbeat in the group—everyone’s except mine. After all... I didn’t have a heart to hear.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You trying to jinx us? Did I do sothing to you? If you wanna die, don’t drag down with you, you idiot!” another team mber growled, his voice laced with irritation and a very clear thread of anxiety betraying his rising nerves.
I watched silently as everyone turned their eyes back toward the darkness below. Their attention sharpened, but so did their anxiety—visible in the way each of them gripped their weapon tightly, as if that piece of tal might be their only lifeline if sothing actually erged from the abyss.
I, on the other hand, although I’d had similar thoughts earlier, didn’t really believe anything would show up. It would be strange... almost impossible... for a creature to suddenly appear inside another anomaly.
I an, I don’t think I need to drag this point out. What kind of twisted—and wildly unlikely—logic would make an anomaly appear inside another anomaly?
Honestly, I wouldn’t take it seriously even if I witnessed it firsthand. I’d probably just assu I was having so sort of montary hallucination.
“I can’t see anything down there. Actually... what exactly are we even trying to find?” Victor muttered, narrowing his eyes as he tried to force his vision farther.
Rupert spoke next, one finger pressing lightly against his earpiece: “I can’t reach base, what the hell!” Rupert hissed under his breath: “I have no idea what we’re doing or where we are. If soone told we walked into another dinsion, I’d believe it in a heartbeat”
I couldn’t refute Rupert’s words. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if we were still inside that aquatic anomaly. Logically, that should’ve been the most reasonable assumption—but when it cos to anomalies, logic tends to lose all aning.
Phenona with dinsional properties—or sothing close to that—aren’t as rare as they seem. The difference is that most of them behave in an oddly passive way or, with a bit of luck, end up being easy to contain.
Actually, I’d never stopped to question why that was the case. But the most likely logic would be that the more powerful an anomaly is, the more “Restrictions” it has, right? Maybe it’s similar to what happens with my sisters.
Up until now, though, I’ve never felt any kind of limitation being imposed on —although that might not an much, considering I don’t even have my mories. In the end, I can’t even say for sure if I’ve ever tried doing sothing that required a restriction in the first place.
Still lost in my own thoughts, Arthur’s voice echoed through the organic corridor, pulling back: “This is weird...” he began, his brow slightly furrowed: “I have no idea what kind of logic is at play here for us to still be able to breathe... and for us not to be crushed to death by the pressure. But honestly, I’m not gonna complain”
Everyone turned to Arthur right away—the reaction team mbers, as well as Victor and Rupert. A brief silence hung in the air before Rupert, unable to hold back his disbelief, spoke up first: “Dude... how the hell do you manage to say sothing that terrifying with such a calm face?”
Arthur heard Rupert’s words and also noticed the uneasy stares aid at him. He just shrugged, giving an oddly relaxed response given the gravity of the situation: “I think it’s because I’m sowhat of a scientist?” he said, scratching the side of his head like soone trying to sort out a loose thought: “I kinda disconnect from reality at tis like this. I an, it’s not like I’m not scared of dying, but... well, whatever’s gonna happen, will happen. It’s not like we can stop sothing if it’s really ant to happen, right?” He finished with a faint, ironic smile, almost challenging the tension in the air.
In the silence that followed, I heard Rupert mutter—quietly, but still loud enough for everyone to catch: “Seriously... who thought bringing this guy was a good idea?”
Ignoring Rupert, who kept grumbling by my side, Arthur had made a valid point. I truly hadn’t considered the possibility that the inside of this thing might actually be breathable—mainly because, in the end, oxygen wasn’t exactly a necessity for .
Still, I kept a close eye on the others. If any of them started showing serious symptoms, like shortness of breath or dizziness... well, I’d have to co up with a solution fast. Fortunately, we didn’t even get close to that scenario. Everyone’s breathing remained stable; for now, there was no real reason to panic.
I decided not to take my thoughts too far. They wouldn’t help in the situation I was in, and even if I did reach so conclusion, it wouldn’t change anything.
The dark wings on my back continued beating softly, pushing deeper into the throat of that aquatic anomaly. I had no idea what exactly I expected to find at the bottom.
In the end, I was still holding onto the hope that when sothing finally appeared, a mory would awaken—and I’d simply know what to do.
But of course... thinking things would stay peaceful for much longer had already beco a distant, almost naïve fantasy, considering everything I’d faced since becoming an anomaly.
From the near end of the world caused by my adorable—and dangerously unpredictable—little sisters, to that anomaly with the world-resetting power.
As I descended at a slow, steady pace through the anomaly’s throat, a strange sound echoed from sowhere. Instinctively, I stopped moving and stayed completely silent.
I quickly noticed the team’s eyes turning toward , their expressions marked by confusion and anticipation. I didn’t move, focused on the slightest signal, until a few seconds later one of the reaction team mbers finally broke the silence—seemingly having heard sothing too.
“Hey... is it just , or is anyone else hearing that weird noise?” he muttered, frowning as he tried to pinpoint the sound’s source.
“Noise? Honestly... it’s so quiet here I can hear my own heartbeat” He stopped mid-sentence, as if the silence around us had grown even heavier. For a few seconds, he stayed still, listening intently: “But... I think I’m hearing sothing else too. Am I going crazy... or is there really sothing out there?”
One by one, everyone began turning their eyes downward, toward the endless abyss we were sinking into. The void swallowed both the light and any sense of distance. But unlike them, my eyes instinctively shifted upward.
I couldn’t see much beyond the thick darkness surrounding us, but I could feel—with absolute clarity—that sothing was approaching. Sothing was plumting toward us at terrifying speed, tearing through the air above.
User Comments
0 comments from readers