(POV – Protagonist)
It wasn’t nearly as hard to calm myself down as I thought it would be. The mont I realized how ridiculous I was acting over a single priest, I managed to force my anger to sit down at the table with reason. The conversation between the two wasn’t exactly friendly, but at least they reached a temporary truce.
Naturally, the anger didn’t disappear. It’s still there. The difference is that now I’m fully aware that taking it out on the people around would be, at best, unfair, and, if I’m being honest, completely irrational.
A few monts earlier, I almost turned Emily and Laura into collateral damage of my temper. I released one of my anomalous abilities without even realizing it. For a second, I caught the faint scent of ozone, that always happens when I use my thermonuclear anomaly. Of course that scared them.
They seem to have forgiven , or at least decided not to bring it up. Still, the mory makes cringe. I acted like a sulking kid in a grocery store aisle, stomping their foot because their mom wouldn’t buy them candy or chips.
And honestly... the comparison fits. The difference is that in my case, the “tantrum” cos with reality distortions and potential casualties. Which makes it a lot less cute, and a whole lot more dangerous.
Anyway, Emily and Laura gradually ca back to their senses. First a deeper breath, then a slight frown as the lingering headache made itself known. They looked like they’d just dealt with a mild case of heatstroke, sothing that, to my quiet guilt, was directly connected to .
When they finally managed to sit up, still a little pale, their eyes began to properly focus on the room around them. And then they noticed. The room was packed. Emily and Laura exchanged a subtle glance, quick, but full of understanding. Laura swallowed hard. Emily spoke first.
“Wait...” she began, her voice still a little hoarse as her eyes scanned every face in the room, lingering on before moving to the others. The disbelief was obvious in her expression: “You... all of you got out of containnt?”
I tilted my head slightly at her question. Beside , Laura spoke too, but her voice was so low it sounded more like she was talking to herself than to us: “Oh no... this is really not good” Her fingers tightened in the hem of her lab coat, and I noticed the subtle movent of her throat as she swallowed.
I was mildly confused by their reactions, the tense looks, the silent exchange of signals, the sudden stiffness in their shoulders. My doubts were cleared up the next instant, when a deafening sound echoed throughout the facility.
It vibrated through the tal walls, through the floor, and seed to reverberate inside my own skull. It sounded like a nuclear warning siren, sharp and urgent. Actually... why the hell do they even have sothing like that down here?
Still dazed and confused, I turned to Emily. One of her hands was pressed to her temple, as if she were trying to hold back an oncoming headache, or gather her thoughts in the middle of the chaos. She let out a long breath before speaking, her voice controlled but forced to compete with the piercing alarm.
“I don’t bla them for sounding the alarms” she said. She ran her fingers through her hastily tied hair: “I’d probably react the sa way if I woke up and suddenly realized the strongest anomalies we have on base had just disappeared... all at once”
I tilted my head slightly at her words. The confusion ca naturally, seeping into my thoughts before I could stop it: (Even though I leave practically every day?) I asked, genuine disbelief coloring my tone, even if it was quiet. Emily simply sighed in resignation, the soft sound slipping past her lips as she looked away for a mont.
“It’s not like we have many options in this case” she replied lightly. Still, her fingers tapped faintly against her own arm. She tilted her head, a half-smile forming before she continued: “Our technology wouldn’t be able to hold any of you for long anyway...” She paused briefly, letting out a short breath through her nose: “Honestly, that’s a little terrifying”
Laura spoke up as well: “The alarm isn’t really about the fact that you left...” she said, crossing her arms as her eyes moved over each of us: “It’s more about all of you leaving at the sa ti... without telling anyone”
A sigh slipped from her lips before she finished, muttering under her breath: “It’s standard protocol around here. And honestly, it’s pretty unpleasant when an anomaly gets out of control... usually, anyway”
I didn’t need many words to understand that the real issue wasn’t what we had done, but the simple fact that my sisters and I had vanished from our room without a trace.
Actually, now that I think about it, with a clearer head, if anomalies like us, considering everything we’re capable of, suddenly disappeared... I’d panic too. The idea alone is unsettling.
I hadn’t realized that before because, technically, I’m on the other side of the situation. It’s easy to downplay things when you’re not the one responsible for maintaining order, or making sure everyone stays safe.
Technically, we’re not a threat. We never were. But it’s not like everyone knows that, or, more importantly, trusts us enough to just ignore the fact that so of the most powerful anomalies in the facility have vanished.
Anyway, while I was lost in thought, trying to untangle the ss in my head, Emily acted fast. Without hesitation, she reached for her belt and pulled out a sleek, futuristic-looking walkie-talkie, compact, tallic, blue lights pulsing along the sides.
Seconds later, her voice rang out steady and sharp, even as she had to raise it to cut through the shrill alarm blaring through the halls and rattling the air.
“Hey! I know they escaped!” she snapped, projecting authority, though a hint of impatience edged her tone. She turned her head slightly: “No, no search teams. You don’t need to worry about her, just, turn off that damn alarm!”
There was a brief pause. Emily clenched her teeth, her fingers tightening around the communicator hard enough to whiten her knuckles: “Yes, I know...” She drew in a deep breath, trying to keep herself in check: “I’ve got everything under control. Just shut the damn thing off already!”
Beside , Althea let out a short, muffled laugh, bringing a hand to her lips in a failed attempt to hide it. The sound was quiet enough that Emily didn’t even notice, she remained focused, oblivious to the silent amusent around her. Althea, on the other hand, seed to be savoring every second of the situation, which, honestly, wasn’t surprising at all.
As if responding to the tension beginning to ease, the alarm cut off abruptly, leaving behind an awkward, almost suffocating silence. A sharp beep followed, short and precise, faintly ringing in our ears.
Laura, who had been watching everything from the sidelines with her arms crossed and a keen expression, noticed my curious look. A faint smile curved her lips before she tilted her head toward and explained casually: “That beep basically ans it was a false alarm”
I nodded, taking it in, before shifting my focus back to Emily. Once the noise was finally gone, she let out a long, low sigh and raised the walkie-talkie to her ear again.
Her lips parted, ready to speak, but she hesitated. Her eyes flicked sideways toward , gauging my reaction. I tilted my head slightly, holding her gaze in silence.
Only then did she resu, her voice steadier now, though still threaded with urgency: “One last thing...” She paused briefly, organizing her thoughts: “I’m sending you so videos and news reports. I need you to track down the priest who shows up in all of them”
The response on the other end seed imdiate. Emily pressed her lips together for a mont before finishing: “Got it. Thanks. Just send whatever you can find through my restricted channel”
With that, she set the device down on the desk, her expression shedding any trace of casualness and settling into clear seriousness. Almost instinctively, my gaze drifted back to her computer screen. The bluish glow illuminated her face, highlighting a headline splashed across the page.
The article was about a priest who had been gaining attention over the past few weeks thanks to his so-called “One Religion” a controversial cult centered on the veneration and study of anomalies. The photo accompanying the piece showed him smiling at the cara, robes immaculate, eyes that seed gentle at first glance.
Noticing where I was looking, Laura broke the silence. She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly before asking, her tone blending curiosity and caution: “So... what’s your history with this priest?” Her eyes narrowed a fraction as she continued: “Why does the Angel of Death seem to hate him so much?”
Emily looked up, curiosity flashing in her eyes at Laura’s question. She seed to expect to finish the explanation. I didn’t. The words just wouldn’t line up. It was hard to explain. I didn’t hate the priest, not exactly. When I thought about him, I didn’t feel disgust toward who he was as a person. What bothered ... what ate at from the inside... was what he was doing.
Everything in scread that it was wrong. It wasn’t logic. It wasn’t proof. It was a constant, nagging sensation, like a distant bell tolling sowhere far away, warning that sothing was out of place. The one who answered for was Eryanis.
Until then, she had been quietly observing the conversation, leaning discreetly against the wall, her arms crossed with effortless elegance. Of all of us, Eryanis was the most composed, which, if you ask , makes perfect sense, considering she’s the very personification of order.
“It’s not necessarily who he is that angered my sister” Eryanis said, her voice firm but free of judgnt. She inclined her head slightly as she spoke, a smooth, deliberate gesture: “What angered her was what he was doing”
Laura tilted her head to the side, her brows knitting together in subtle confusion. A faint crease ford between her eyes as she tried to follow: “You an... preaching?” The word sounded almost fragile as it left her lips.
Eryanis allowed herself a faint, knowing smile, as if Laura’s naivety was both predictable and mildly amusing: “Preaching holds far more power than you can imagine, human” she replied, her voice low and steady, laced with conviction. Her gaze didn’t waver as it t Laura’s: “But preaching delivered to the wrong place...” She lifted her chin slightly: “That’s the sa as inviting trouble”
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