Anomaly

The following minutes were intense—or, to be more honest, an outright whirlwind of chaos. Above my head, the familiar sphere hovered, spinning in a way that was almost hypnotic, as if defying the panic around it.
In front of me, the “Colors” of the anomaly were being ripped away one by one, drawn into that glowing core, each fragment distorting the air around it before vanishing. The process dragged on, slow and exhausting.
At the same time, my body was locked in a silent battle between disintegration and reconstruction. There were moments when all that was left of me were my arms, clinging desperately to the anomaly, as if it were the only anchor keeping me from vanishing completely.
Then, out of absolutely nowhere, I felt a sudden wave surge through me, and my body began to reassemble—first my torso, then my head, my legs, each part of me snapping back into place as if some invisible force had just snapped its fingers and returned me to existence.
I wasn’t paying attention to anything around me—I couldn’t. My entire vision, my every thought, was locked on the anomaly before me. As I absorbed it, another wave of disintegration burst through me. I felt my arms slowly coming apart, grain by grain, until they turned to dust and drifted into the air.
In the same instant, my regeneration kicked in, rebuilding them with surgical precision. But that protection didn’t extend to the rest of my body... and I could feel every part of it giving way, inevitably, to the same ruin.
With my arms constantly disintegrating—along with the rest of my body—I was forced to focus all my healing on a single point. In the end, that meant the rest of me took much longer to regenerate compared to my arms. And, let’s be honest... it’s not exactly a pleasant thing to watch.
I mean, my regeneration is not pretty—it’s not like some magical light appears and suddenly my limbs are back in place. In reality, it’s grotesque. Sometimes my eyes form before my head is even complete, floating in the air for a few seconds as if staring at me from the outside in.
Other times, other parts emerge before the skin, snapping and locking into place with an unsettling crack. Either way, maybe because I was constantly forcing my body to regenerate, the absorption seemed to drag on at an unbearably slow pace.
Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take more than a few seconds—a simple blink. But now, minutes had already passed, and every extra moment clung to me like a suffocating weight, crushing not just my body but every fragment of my mind, as if trying to bend me until I broke.
The sphere above me kept spinning almost lazily, like a predator prolonging its prey’s agony to savor every fragment it tore from the anomaly. With each pull of energy, a wave of heat surged through me; my skin split like fragile paper being torn apart, releasing a coarse heat that burned from the inside.
If I still had muscles, they would surely be tearing and reweaving in an endless cycle, fibers stretching and snapping like ropes under tension. If I still had bones, they’d be shattering only to fuse again with a muffled crack, echoing like distant thunder inside my nonexistent body.
I didn’t feel pain—I just watched, with strange detachment, as my body broke down into particles until it vanished, then reassembled seconds later, whole again. My eyes recorded the scene with cold precision, while my brain, cruelly loyal, preserved every nuance of the sensations I should have been experiencing.
Honestly, if I weren’t an anomaly, I’d probably be losing my mind right now. This experience, once again, only reinforced what had long been obvious to me: in both body and soul, I’m light-years away from what anyone would call human.
In the end, it seemed victory would be mine. There was no pain—just a strange sense of pressure, as if the air around me had grown denser. My only thought was that the whole process was taking longer than I had expected... though, thinking about it, I should have known from the start that the anomaly wouldn’t go down so easily.
In one last act of pure defiance, the anomaly trembled. Not like before—this wasn’t a mere pulse of energy or an involuntary ripple. It was a deep, almost convulsive shudder, as if every fragment of its essence was gathering for one final, irreversible blow.
The colors, which moments ago had been pulled like silk threads into the void, now thrashed in frenzy, colliding violently with each other, tearing space apart with flashes and muffled cracks. The luminous chaos outshone even the steady glow of the sphere above my head, painting every shadow around us in impossible hues.
Althea and Victor, watching from just behind me, reacted almost in unison—though Victor was the first to break the silence. He leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on the sight, and shot out, his voice loaded with disbelief: “What the hell is that thing doing?”
Althea, as usual, tossed out her comment in a playful tone, as if this were nothing more than someone else’s show: “That’s one hell of an energy surge it’s putting out... Looks like it’s been storing up quite a bit while it’s been here” she said, raising a brow and curling her lips into an amused smile, as if watching something curious rather than potentially deadly.
Of course, I couldn’t fully focus on what either of them was saying—not with the anomaly leaving its mark on every fiber of my body. A blinding white flash, so intense it felt like it could scorch the soul itself, swallowed everything around me, burning the atmosphere and warping space like glass bent over fire.
The impact was so violent that even my regeneration—usually silent and automatic—screamed in despair. And I heard that scream. I felt my skin unravel, my insides dissolving, every atom breaking apart into dust long before the skin itself had the chance to evaporate.
The last thing I managed to hear, before being swallowed whole by that blinding flash, was Victor’s voice—thick with panic and disbelief—yelling: “Ah, shit!”
Inside the
containment room, Emily and Laura kept their full attention on the man lying on the floor. Their breathing was measured, their movements calculated. There, before them, lay the anomaly—the true culprit behind the dangerous situation they were in—lodged deep inside the man’s body.
Laura, tablet steady in her hands, guided Emily step by step through the delicate removal process. The instructions came fast but precise as Emily worked with near-absolute focus. Across the room, the visitors stood still, watching in silence. They stayed back, not for lack of willingness to help, but for fear of getting in the way.
Everyone seemed noticeably calmer than they had been moments earlier, as if convinced everything would be resolved in just a few hours. Laura and Emily projected that confidence almost contagiously—though the visitors didn’t know exactly why.
According to Laura, the mysterious anomaly assisting them had faced similar situations before, always finding a solution... and in the process, helping humans overcome them. The answer to that assumption, however, was a resounding “no” from both Emily and Laura. Their explanations were straightforward: the
She stood out as something special, almost eccentric in her behavior, usually ignoring human presence entirely... yet, curiously, sometimes choosing to step in and help, if the circumstances happened to catch her interest.
Both Laura and Emily admitted they knew very little about the
—her behavior, her motivations, or the real reason she helped humans. Most of those questions remained unanswered, like blank pages waiting to be written. Still, after all they’d been through together, Emily and Laura shared a quiet trust: they believed that when the time came, the
would help the humans.
Back to Laura—her gaze stayed fixed, barely blinking, as Emily, with steady hands, gripped the anomaly and pulled it from the man through the open wound in his abdomen. The air was heavy, thick with the metallic scent of blood, but a sigh of relief escaped Laura’s lips as she realized the process had finally come to an end.
“Finally, it’s over” Emily murmured, letting out a breath of relief as she held the anomaly up before her eyes. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary worm, lazily writhing in the palm of her hand: “Outside of a host, it’s harmless...” she added, with a tired half-smile: “So we don’t have to worry about everything spiraling out of control anymore”
Hearing that, Laura also let out a relieved breath, as if she could finally breathe after minutes of tension. But her gaze quickly shifted to the man lying on the floor.
A small, still-fresh cut marked his abdomen—the precise incision through which they had extracted the anomaly lodged in his body. Despite his pallor and stillness, his chest rose and fell slowly, a silent sign that he was still alive.
“Any risk of side effects?” Laura asked, her voice carrying an almost imperceptible hesitation. Her gaze, however, was steady, locked on Emily in front of her.
At the question, Emily glanced briefly at the man on the floor, as if confirming something before speaking: “No problematic side effects... at least, none that we know of” she replied with a calm, almost rehearsed tone, her serene voice contrasting with the tension in the air.
“Luckily, when the anomaly inhabits a host, it triggers an extraordinarily powerful healing factor. There have been cases where, even with severe internal injuries, the victim remained alive and conscious. He’ll probably walk away from this nearly unscathed...” her eyes narrowed slightly, and a touch of realism cut through her voice: “... though not without carrying a scar for the rest of his life”
Laura considered that fair—after all, at least he’d still be alive. Of course, that didn’t erase the fact that he would still have to answer for his actions.
The situation was far from favorable, but it could have been much worse. If things had completely spiraled out of control, they would have reached a point where the death of thousands would have been the least of the organization’s problems.
After answering Laura’s questions, Emily rose with a measured, almost silent movement. Her eyes swept across the room, briefly landing on the other two anomalies present—observing them with a mix of caution and curiosity—before her low, firm voice broke the silence: “Now... all we can do is wait for news from Victor”
The air seemed to grow lighter, less oppressive, as Emily’s words faded. A collective sigh of relief rippled through the group, almost as if everyone had been holding their breath until that moment.
But the feeling didn’t last long. First came a gentle tremor—so subtle it might have gone unnoticed by most. Only those near objects or surfaces could feel the faint vibration, a barely perceptible shiver that seemed to quietly warn that something was about to change.
The next time, the sensation intensified—so strong it seemed to hum in the air around them. Laura shot a quick glance at Emily, who returned it with the same puzzled expression. The visitors were no different; they exchanged uncertain looks, brows furrowed, faces marked with silent confusion, unable to grasp what was happening.
The next tremor, however, was devastating—far more intense than any before. Suddenly, a blinding light burst from the center of the containment room, as if the very air had ignited. The floor shook, then instantly crumbled into fine dust that rose into the air like a suffocating fog.
The light, wild and swift, expanded in waves, swallowing everything in seconds. The last image burned into the minds of those present was the sudden arrival of the densest darkness, closing in around them completely.