Anomaly

(POV - Emily Parker)

"How the hell did she just disappear? Are you sure that tiny brain of yours didn't miss some hidden corner?" Emily shouted, her voice ringing out firmly and authoritatively, filled with impatience.

In front of her, three guards, responsible for patrolling the perimeter of the [Angel of Death], kept their heads lowered, motionless, unable to show any reaction. In the end, the anomaly simply vanished during their shifts, and there was no excuse they could give to justify what had happened.

However, they weren't lying— the disappearance had been abrupt, inexplicable. One moment, the entity was there; the next, it was gone without a trace. Not even they understood what had happened.

Just a moment ago, she had been inside her containment room as usual; the next, only one of the two anomalies in the room remained.

No one had any idea what had occurred. Not even the meticulous review of the cameras revealed any clues— there were no distortions, malfunctions, or any signs of suspicious movement.

In other words, whatever method she used to escape, she managed to leave her room without a trace, and even worse, didn’t appear in any other part of the facility.

"Dammit, this is a critical moment! If the higher-ups find out about this, they’ll cancel the special anomaly project without hesitation" Emily explained, pressing her fingers to her temple as she tried to organize her thoughts.

It went without saying that the three seated guards had no idea what the special anomaly project even was. They were just replaceable pieces, assigned there to fill numbers, nothing more. And, to be honest, they had no interest in learning more.

The less they knew, the better for them— after all, knowledge brought responsibility, and responsibility meant exposing themselves to unnecessary risks. The further they went, the more dangers they’d face. Definitely not worth it.

As the three guards exchanged looks loaded with the same thought, without saying a single word, their boss’s firm voice brought them back to reality: “You three, I don’t want any rumors spreading. If this reaches the ears of the higher-ups, consider yourselves condemned to never see daylight again. From now on, you’ll be responsible for guarding the [Angel of Death]'s containment room until she returns. Is that clear?”

The three guards, under Emily's piercing gaze, nodded immediately, almost as if afraid to hesitate. The intensity of her expression made any questioning impossible, and for a brief moment, they wondered how their boss could be so intimidating— sometimes even more so than many of the anomalies confined in the facility.

Under Emily's watchful eye, the three guards hurried out of the facility, their boots echoing down the corridor until they disappeared completely. Now alone, she let out a long sigh before leaning back in her chair, feeling the weight of the silence around her.

Her gaze fell on a cup left forgotten on the desk, the porcelain still warm to the touch. A comforting aroma spread through the air, reaching her like a silent invitation. Without hesitation, Emily picked up the cup, bringing it to her lips and taking a few sips, letting the warmth of the drink dissipate part of her exhaustion.

Another sigh escaped her lips, but this time, her expression seemed much softer than before, as if the tension in her body had melted away. Her face reflected a deep calm, as if she were entering a serene trance, where every muscle slowly relaxed, immersing her in a state of almost ethereal tranquility.

“This calming tea has become almost indispensable to me since the [Angel of Death] arrived at the facility. And, as if the universe were testing me, it brought a series of anomalous cases— events that, by their nature, should be rare— happening one after another” Emily remarked, her fingers tracing slow, delicate circles on the top of the cup, as if the motion helped her find a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

One single thought crossed Emily’s mind as she lifted her head, her eyes staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression: ([Angel of Death], where the hell did you get yourself into this time?)

***

(POV - Arthur Hensley)

“Thirty whole minutes wasted, and not a single clue has turned up” Arthur sighed, his tired and frustrated gaze scanning the various papers spread out in front of him, as though waiting for the answer to reveal itself in the disconnected words before him.

Arthur wasn’t unprepared; he had considered several names during the thirty minutes he spent researching. In fact, he had a considerable list of options, but something kept him from considering any of them as the name for the anomaly. The reason was simple: none of those names seemed to fit.

To Arthur, names for virtues should follow a specific pattern, something deep and meaningful, but none of the options he found had the weight or relevance of a name that truly represented the concept in question. They seemed empty, without intention, as if they weren’t meant to say anything.

Arthur's gaze subtly drifted to the side, focusing on a chair nearby. There, a small figure, appearing to be a child around 10 years old, swung their feet slowly back and forth, completely oblivious to the chaos around them.

Their calm demeanor contrasted with the tension in the air, as if they were lost in their own thoughts, unaffected by the situation unfolding.

In the end, Arthur would have to rely on the anomaly; there was no other choice. Although he hoped that, at some point, he would figure out its name, he knew that time would likely run out before that happened. Now, more than ever, they were racing against the clock, each second becoming an escalating threat.

Once again, a deep sigh escaped Arthur's lips, laden with anguish. His thoughts floated from one scenario to another, like hazy images that dissipated as quickly as they appeared.

He imagined all the possibilities that could unfold from that point, but in every one of them, the fate of humanity seemed sealed, marked by extinction.

Even with the apparent alliance of the [Angel of Death] on the side of humans, an alliance that offered a false sense of security, Arthur knew it didn’t guarantee anything. He, more than anyone, understood that dealing with a conceptual virtue was unpredictable, something that defied even logic.

Lost in his thoughts, Arthur only snapped back to reality when a soft, innocent voice echoed behind him, coming from the stairs leading to the second floor of the house. The phrase, filled with surprise, broke the silence: “Oh! What a surprise... Honestly, I thought you’d be looking for help elsewhere, instead of hiding out here, in my house”

Arthur watched closely as the girl approached the [Angel of Death], walking lightly until sitting beside her. Her gaze, as untouched and innocent as always, conveyed an almost captivating purity.

The scene could even be considered cute, were it not for the fact that, behind that apparent sweetness, the little girl was probably responsible for the catastrophe threatening the extinction of the human race.

Although Arthur still didn’t know exactly how all of this would unfold, a dark premonition filled his thoughts.

Arthur, however, noticed something strange about the little girl. Although she was acting the same way as usual, small, almost imperceptible changes started to stand out.

Her lips, usually calm, were strangely pressed together, as if she were forcing them to stay closed, holding back something she wanted to say. Her hands, once relaxed, were now clenched with unusual strength, as if she were holding herself back, fighting against something inside.

Moreover, though it was hard to notice at first, she seemed visibly uncomfortable, with a slight, constant movement, as if she couldn’t settle down.

Her expression, which had once shown a lightness, now clearly displayed signs of distress, becoming progressively darker with each passing moment.

"By the way, I thought you said you’d finish your homework. You were talking about the holiday tasks, right?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow subtly, his eyes fixed on the little girl with a curious and somewhat intrigued expression.

Normally, these tasks would be done during the holidays, as they were too much for such young kids who could barely focus on anything other than play. It was a considerable challenge for them, trying to finish everything in less than 30 minutes without sacrificing fun.

As if reading Arthur’s thoughts, the little girl gave a smug smile, and in an almost comical way, puffed out her nonexistent chest.

Her voice, which soon followed, carried a childlike arrogance, but instead of sounding annoying, there was something almost endearing about its innocence: "I never forget anything I see, even if it’s for a zeptosecond. Schoolwork? Piece of cake for someone like me"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, observing closely. Personally, he found the ability pretty impressive—something few would even imagine having. However, he couldn’t conceive how it would be to live with something like that in practice.

After all, even the darkest memories—those that ordinary people would want to forget—would remain forever locked in the little girl’s mind, which, despite her pure and innocent appearance, carried an invisible burden.

Perhaps this was one of the burdens that entities most resembling gods had to carry. Arthur wasn’t sure what the answer would be, but he wasn’t looking for it eagerly. After all, he was just a human, destined to be forgotten by time, like everyone else, until he was eventually lost in the vastness of his own ephemerality.

***

(POV – Protagonist)

Although the conversation between Arthur and the little girl seemed calm, I couldn’t help but glance at her. Didn’t Arthur see what I saw? It was as if something was out of place, but he was completely immersed in the conversation, showing no signs of discomfort.

My eyes were normal, golden in color, without any visible changes. So why could I see what I saw when I looked at that little girl? An unsettling feeling took hold of me, but it seemed impossible to explain.

It was like cracks running all over her body, as if an invisible force was slowly shattering her essence. I didn’t know for sure what was happening, but I could feel her emotions with painful clarity.

Pain. That was the only thing I could sense from her—a deep, constant pain, as if she were trying to hold herself together, resist, endure something that seemed unbearable.

But why? If the pain was so intense, why didn’t she just push it away? She seemed strong enough to control it, so why choose to carry all that suffering, as if it was her only option?.

Moreover, seeing her like this made me feel an increasing weight of guilt. Something inside me seemed to scream, begging me to do something, to ease her pain, but what could I do? How could I help? I didn’t know her name, but why did that bother me so much? It felt like it was vital, like I should know, but I didn’t. My mind was a whirlpool of unanswered questions, confused and lost.

Things I shouldn’t know seemed deeply rooted in me, as if they were part of my very being. Was that normal? Should I feel everything I was feeling now? The doubt lingered, uncertain.

I was no longer just human, not before all this... Human? Curiously, when I tried to remember my previous life, my mind presented me with a strange vision: I saw myself from a new perspective, as if I were looking at someone else’s back, longing for something I couldn’t reach.

But what exactly was that something I longed for? The answer always seemed to slip away from me, like a distant dream that fades upon waking.

(You seem... in pain) The words echoed in my mind, like a distant whisper, as I watched the little girl beside me.

Her expression was a mix of exhaustion and suffering, as if something invisible was tormenting her. The silence between us dragged on, heavy, and the sound of my own breathing seemed muffled in the presence of the fragility she exuded.

But my tone sounded different now, with a softness I didn’t recognize—strangely gentle and melancholic. It was as if it carried a familiarity, something that touched me deeply, yet at the same time, it felt distant, as if it were a memory of something that no longer existed.

There was a sense of knowing in it, as if I knew exactly what I was saying, but at the same time, it felt lost, forgotten. And despite its warmth, there was something cold about it, as if it were a flame that burned without truly warming.

The little girl also stared at me, her eyes wide with surprise, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly, as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out, no matter how hard she tried.

We stood there, staring at each other, for a few seconds that seemed to stretch on like decades. However, this moment didn’t last long. In the next instant, my eyes widened, frozen in surprise.

The little girl beside me, the small child, started to shed a liquid from her eyes, which slowly trickled down her cheeks. But what left me even more perplexed was the color: a bright, vibrant yellow, almost like liquid light.

And to my horror, the liquid seemed to slowly corrode what was left of her shattered, broken body, causing her tattered skin to disintegrate even further, as if she were being consumed from the inside out.