Anomaly

My mind took half a second to recognize that face... But as soon as I heard her voice, everything came flooding back all at once, like a crashing wave: the city shrouded in thick fog, the distorted, muffled sounds echoing through empty streets, and the exact moment I found her, curled up outside the burger joint.
I remembered the frightened look in her eyes, how she was clutching a small chocolate bar, like it was her silent way of reaching out—a simple offer of friendship, or maybe a desperate hope in the middle of chaos.
Honestly, I had no idea how to act in that moment. I mean... what do you even say when everything around you feels like it’s about to collapse, when death seems to be lurking every second? Words just slipped away, like any attempt at comfort would be too small against the fear in their eyes.
In the end, instead of trying to think it through or find the perfect thing to say, I let my instincts take over. I knelt down gently in front of the little girl—the one I’d saved once before, in the fog and chaos—and reached out, softly resting my hand on her head. She looked at me silently, like she was searching for an answer the whole world had refused to give her.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, took a deep breath, and let my thoughts flow to her: It’s going to be okay, I whispered, my voice low but steady. A calm whisper, filled with a quiet confidence, almost protective: Trust me.
When she heard my words in her mind, her eyes widened, surprised for a moment—but then a big smile spread across her face, and she nodded excitedly, practically bouncing in place: “Yeah! That time, Big Sis saved me, Mom, and Dad!” she exclaimed, her voice full of excitement: “There were lots of weird monsters out there, coming out of the fog... they made horrible noises! But then you showed up, like a superhero from a movie!”
She spread her little arms and made a dramatic gesture, like she was breaking through an invisible wall, and shouted: “POW!”
The little girl laughed loudly at her own act, like that memory—scary as it was—had turned magical because I was there. Her eyes shone with the kind of honesty only someone who truly saw me as a kind of hero—or maybe even more—could have.
Hearing her words, I let out a soft sigh, barely noticeable. On the outside, my face kept its usual indifferent expression—that cold look everyone already knew. But inside... honestly, I found the whole thing ridiculously funny. It was sweetly funny to see her talk with such conviction.
“Big Sis, you’re gonna save everyone again, right?” she finally said, her eyes sparkling—not with power, nor desperate hope, but with that pure innocence only kids carry. The way she believed in me, like it was the most natural thing in the world, almost made me smile for real.
Before I could answer, she ran up to me and gave me a tight hug, her little face pressed against my hips—the way only little kids do: fearless, without holding back, not caring about the world around them.
A pure, spontaneous gesture, like all she needed to feel safe was my presence. At that moment, as if no nightmare existed, as if all the terror around her had been swept away, it was enough that I was there.
“Thank you, Big Sis...” she murmured softly, almost a whisper, her voice trembling and eyes shining, like those few words carried the weight of a world that, for a moment, felt way too light to hurt.
That “Big Sis” hit me in a strange way. Warm. Familiar, even. Like something very old inside me—something I’d buried for too long—had stirred, awakened by that clumsy but sincere nickname. It was like a silent snap deep in my chest. And as if that had been a sign only they could understand, other kids started coming closer too.
At first slowly, hesitantly, with shy looks and tiny steps. Then in small groups, like being around each other gave them courage. Within moments, I was surrounded by small figures with bright eyes.
One of them—a shy little girl with slanted eyes and her hair tied in two messy braids—came forward slowly, almost hiding her face behind her paper. She held out the crumpled drawing with both hands, her eyes shining with quiet hope.
“I drew you” she said in a low but steady voice: “This is you... and these are the monsters you’re going to defeat”
On the paper, childlike lines showed a completely white figure with golden eyes, surrounded by shadowy creatures with red eyes and huge claws. In the corner, a smiling sun lit up the scene. She looked at me with a shy smile.
I looked at the little girl for a few seconds before gently taking the drawing. I won’t lie—it was rough, the lines shaky, scribbled quickly but bravely. But it had everything. Me, right in the center of the page, with huge wings that looked like a bat’s—though they seemed kind of melted, like they were dripping through the air.
In front of me, a shapeless creature, a black and red blur that looked more like a vague nightmare. Behind me, the contrast: people smiling, some with arms raised like they were cheering. Kids running, two dogs jumping, a crooked tree with little hearts hanging from the branches like fruits. Everything badly drawn, but full of meaning. Of feeling. Of gratitude.
Even from my point of view—as someone who currently barely feels anything—it was hard not to find the situation adorable. I mean, even though my ability to feel for other humans had diminished a lot, some things are still clear to me: what’s cute, is just cute.
And kids, oh, kids are naturally adorable, even when they do nothing but exist, with their innocence and quiet simplicity that somehow warms even the hardest heart.
“Thank you for saving us, Big Sis” said a little girl nearby, her voice shy and a small smile on her lips, her eyes shining with gratitude.
“It’s true!” a boy added, his eyes shining with confidence: “Mom and Dad said that even if you look different, you’re a really nice and special person”
When I heard the boy’s words, one eyebrow raised inside me—was that really how they saw me? Inside, I felt a strange mix of surprise and indifference. To be honest, until then, I thought everyone feared me deeply, body and soul.
Maybe because I helped Victor and Rupert, their perception changed a bit. Now, it seemed like they saw me less as a complete monster, with a dark body and mind, and more like a scary-looking creature—an intimidating facade, but less threatening inside.
Anyway, I slowly bent down, still carefully holding the paper one of the little girls had given me. My eyes fixed on the little girl in front of me—the same one I met at that burger joint when the world seemed to be falling apart, taken over by thick, silent fog.
(You should go back to your parents now) I said softly, worried about her well-being. The little girl, still with her eyes shining with gratitude, looked at me for a moment and then nodded slowly.
“Oh! I almost forgot” she said with a small mischievous smile, putting her hand to her forehead like she’d just remembered something very important: “Mom and Dad said if I saw you again, I had to say... thank you. And that you’re part of our family now”
She said those words with an enchanting seriousness, like she was offering me an unbreakable contract—one signed with crayon and that, in her world, could never be undone.
Althea, of course, watched the scene with such blatant sarcasm it seemed to defy any sense of sincerity. Leaning casually against the wall, one hand elegantly resting on her chest, her expression was a show in itself—shocked, exaggerated, like she was witnessing the climax of a theatrical tragedy.
In a drawn-out, dramatic voice, she exclaimed: “Oh, heavens! My dear sister, when did you decide to adopt an entire family?!”
(Althea... just shut up for a moment, please) I murmured, trying to keep a neutral face—a useless effort, since a half-smile slipped at the corner of my lips: (And, for heaven’s sake, stop looking at the kids like you’re deciding which one to kidnap first)
“Hehe, never! If I’m going to have a kid, it’ll be the natural way—between me and you, my dear sister. I’ve already thought of a trillion, two hundred fifty thousand, eight hundred and four possible names! For boys, girls, those born without a defined gender, and even for those with both! Oh, and don’t worry, they all fit perfectly with our last names... I’ve checked every single one”
Hearing Althea’s words, I slowly turned my face toward her. She was staring at me with those big innocent eyes, like nothing unusual had happened. The soft light reflected on her calm, almost angelic face. But honestly: (...didn’t she just say something incredibly scary a few seconds ago? And worse—as if it was the most natural thing in the world?)
Honestly, I decided to just ignore Althea’s words—there was something in her tone that made it clear she wasn’t joking. No matter how much I tried to reason, my instinct screamed to just accept it and move on.
Then, I looked down and saw the little girl still clutching the hem of my loose shirt, her tiny fingers gripping the fabric like it was the only safe anchor in the world. With a quiet sigh, I crouched down and lifted her into my arms. She smiled in a way that broke me inside, like she was relieved I was still there.
Around us, other kids started smiling too—some clapped timidly, others approached with eyes shining with curiosity and admiration. And I... well, I just tried to take a deep breath and pretend all this was normal.
Victor didn’t say a word. He just watched me silently, with that unreadable expression he always made sure to keep—as if trying to hide what he really felt, or maybe waiting for me to say something first.
I looked away, uncomfortable with the weight of that silence, and stared at the door ahead of us: (Alright then...) I murmured, almost to myself, as I carefully adjusted the folded drawing in my shirt pocket. It was an automatic gesture, but loaded with meaning. I took a deep breath: (Let’s just get this over with)
The next moment, there were no more secrets between us. We just left my room in silence. Outside, in the dim hallway, it was just me, Victor, and Althea. Victor and I exchanged a brief look—nothing was said, but there was understanding there, like we both knew what was coming next.
Then I glanced at Althea, who hovered beside me, holding tightly onto my arm. Her little hands seemed reluctant to let go, and her wings—always moving—fluttered softly, making a faint buzzing that filled the quiet room.
(Are you sure you want to come with us?) I asked, keeping my gaze steady on Althea, trying to catch any hesitation in her face. But her expression stayed calm, almost defiant, like she had already made this decision long before I asked.
“Of course!” Althea said confidently, almost proudly: “Nothing matters more to me than seeing my dear sister using her powers... You look incredibly beautiful when you do that” she added, her voice softening at the end, like the words slipped out without a filter. For some reason, her cheeks blushed lightly.
Putting aside how weird Althea was acting, I decided to get straight to the point. I crossed my arms and asked bluntly: (Are you going to help us with anything? Because, to be honest... so far, you’ve been almost useless, especially compared to Nekra)
Hearing my words, Althea puffed up her cheeks—a very typical gesture of hers, almost childish, but still carrying a touch of drama.
“Oh, you’re so mean, dear sister!” she said theatrically, her eyes shining with that usual exaggeration: “We, the Virtues, as humans call us, can’t go against our nature... I can’t take lives, only give them”
She crossed her arms with a slight huff, but soon smiled tenderly, casting a glance at Victor beside me: “But if he gets hurt or is close to death, I can heal him. That I can do” she finished, lightly touching her chest, like making a silent promise.
Hearing my words, Althea puffed up her cheeks—such a characteristic gesture of hers that for a moment she almost seemed like a child throwing a tantrum. I didn’t reply; I just let out a sigh full of resignation. Anyway, I knew she’d end up following us, stubborn as always.
By my side, Victor seemed bothered by the tone of the conversation, or rather, by how we were treating him. He frowned, crossed his arms, and with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, shot back: “Hey, you two, could you please stop talking like I’m just dead weight?”