Anomaly

I still struggled to believe what was happening—or rather, I simply didn’t know how I was supposed to react to my current situation. I was floating in the silent vacuum of space, while below me Earth stretched out—round, bluish, and radiant, like a jewel suspended in the endless darkness. Thousands of thoughts crashed into each other in my mind all at once.
How exactly had I ended up here? Was that anomaly responsible? All I remember is her snapping her fingers and, in the blink of an eye, I was already here—lost among the stars, my thoughts tangled, a sense of unreality pressing against my chest. I hadn’t moved to get here, nor had I used any anomalous ability to transport myself from one place to another.
The feeling was strange, as if I’d always been at this point from the very beginning—even though that made no sense at all. The memory was still vivid in my mind: seconds ago I’d been in the park with Emily, Victor, and Laura when suddenly everything dissolved. Now, without any transition, without even a blink, I found myself here, suspended in space.
For that matter, I wasn’t suffocating, even while floating in the vacuum. Honestly, that wasn’t even all that surprising, since I don’t even have lungs—I’ve never needed to breathe, not once in my existence. And I’d always heard space was absurdly cold, cold enough to freeze someone solid within seconds.
I don’t know if that’s true or just a human exaggeration, but either way, I’m perfectly comfortable here. The cold doesn’t reach me, the heat doesn’t affect me... it’s as if the void itself were tailor-made for me.
(Well, putting that aside) I thought, letting out a brief sigh as I shrugged and let my gaze wander across the immensity below me. The Earth stretched out in the distance, almost unreal to my eyes, as if it were just a painting beneath my feet suspended in the void: (How exactly am I supposed to get back there now?)
Should I just try floating back? The idea seemed ridiculous, but for a moment I considered it. I also thought about reaching into the world of shadows, like I usually do on Earth... but this is space.
Would it even work the same way? If not, I’d probably end up trapped in some reference-less void, with no sense of up or down—if those directions even mean anything here: (The risk is too high. Better not push my luck)
I turned the thought over for a while longer, but no truly useful idea came to me—at least, nothing involving my anomalous powers. I even thought of calling on my Alter Ego, but it was no use: I couldn’t summon him, couldn’t even feel his presence. It’s not as though our connection had been severed; I could clearly tell he was still inside me.
But it was almost as if there were an invisible barrier—thick and impenetrable—separating us. The feeling was strange, suffocating. I had the impression that, on the other side, he didn’t even know the situation we were in right now—as if we were on different planes while sharing the same body.
In the end, I realized I’d have to handle the situation on my own. I held my breath for a moment, forcing my mind to focus, then fixed my eyes on the bluish sphere below me. It seemed to pulse with life, majestic and distant, yet at the same time so close I could almost feel its gravity pulling me back.
Confused ideas sprang up in my mind one after another, until one stood out with unsettling clarity: (If I get close enough to the atmosphere, I’ll be pulled back to Earth... right?)
The thought struck me almost abruptly, like an unexpected spark in the middle of the void. If I wasn’t mistaken, it could really work. But one obstacle stood in my way: how, exactly, was I supposed to move in space?
Dozens of possibilities crossed my mind within seconds—some even seemed plausible—but when I tried to picture them in action, none of them worked the way I wanted. In the end, after some reflection, one idea began to take shape in my mind.
It wasn’t necessary to waste energy trying to reach Earth directly; I only had to get close enough. Didn’t I have the perfect anomalous ability for a situation like this? More precisely, the last ability I’d acquired just a few days ago, still fresh in my memory and nearly untouched in its potential.
With that thought pounding in my head, I slowly turned. In front of me lay only an ocean of darkness dotted with rare glimmers—tiny points of light shimmering like scattered jewels across infinity. Behind me, the familiar and comforting sight of Earth—a blue-and-white disk suspended in the void.
For a moment, as my eyes roamed the distant lights, I wondered how exactly I was going to pull this off. Honestly, since I’d obtained that ability, I’d only used it once before deciding to shelve it—at least until I learned to control it.
The reason? Simple. It’s probably the most destructive power I possess... and ironically the one I control the least right now. The last time I tried to use it, back in my room, my sisters nearly became unlucky victims of my accident.
Well, maybe “victims” is too strong a word, since according to them, all they felt was a mild tingling across their bodies—like warm water sliding over their skin, brushing them softly. Ironic, when you think about it, because at that same moment everything in my room had been reduced to dust within seconds.
That time, I hadn’t been able to focus the energy in one single point. It was as if it had erupted from me in all directions at once, uncontrolled, like an inevitable explosion.
But is it really impossible to direct it? After all, it’s my own power... it makes no sense that I wouldn’t be able to shape it the way I want. With that thought in mind, I once again felt that unusual energy flowing through my body, just as vivid as the last time I called upon that anomalous ability.
A subtle heat began to spread inside me, as if my veins—veins that don’t even truly exist—were being pushed to their limit by some invisible current. In truth, it wasn’t really “through my veins,” but through every part of me, as if my entire essence was being saturated by that force.
I remembered what had happened before: when the energy reached this stage, it simply couldn’t be contained anymore and burst out all at once, exploding in every direction like an uncontrollable wave. Back then, I didn’t think about how much energy there was or where it would exit.
I just wanted to release whatever was pulsing inside me, without worrying about direction or control. This time, though, it was different: as I stretched both hands forward, I pictured them as conduits—channels able to guide the flow that once erupted so chaotically.
It felt like the energy had finally found a defined path, shaped by my will. But even with this “channel” open for it to flow through, the hardest part was still forcing it there. It was like trying to funnel a raging river into a thin stream.
Next, I shut off all my external senses—sight, hearing, even the sense of the space around me—plunging into absolute silence. I focused solely on the energy within me, that force that kept expanding, vast and relentless, as if it had no limit, as if it could overflow at any moment.
Slowly, I began steering it toward my hands. The energy pulsed wildly, almost untamable, each spark trembling like it wanted to escape my control. Even so, despite its fierce resistance, I bent it to my will. It was my power, born within me, and no one else could claim it.
After what felt like ages of concentration, I opened my eyes. In that instant, an intense, phosphorescent blue glow erupted from my body, wrapping me like a living cloak of light, flickering and spreading through the air around me.
The glow grew stronger by the second, pulsing as if my own body were about to shatter. At the critical moment—right before the energy could explode out of control in every direction—I forced it to converge entirely in my hands.
I felt the searing heat race down my arms, burning from the inside, and then, with a desperate push, I released everything at once. The discharge was overwhelming, like a thunderclap born from within me. I poured every last fragment of strength I had left—and it was enough to send me plunging fast toward the earth.
Though my face stayed expressionless, every feature masking any emotion, inside I was blazing with euphoria: (It... worked!)
I wasn’t sure at what point I should stop propelling myself and let Earth’s atmosphere finish the job. So I kept firing bursts of nuclear energy from my hands, feeling the vibrant heat surge through me like compressed shards of sunlight.
My plan was simple: stop the moment my body sensed any shift—a sign, a tug of gravity, any distinct feeling that told me I could quit.
Of course, I didn’t expect that “something different” to hit so brutally—literally setting my skin on fire, like I was becoming part of the very blaze driving me forward.
Suddenly, a hot sensation wrapped around me, dense and suffocating, like an incandescent cocoon forming around my body. The heat wasn’t just tolerable—it burned, vibrated, like every particle of air was in flames.
To my shock, I realized my body was literally igniting, sparks and flames breaking from my skin as if I were a meteor tearing through the sky. It didn’t take a genius to understand: not only had I entered Earth’s atmosphere, but I’d overshot—badly—the point where I should’ve stopped.
In the next moment, I pulled the energy emanating from me back inside, like someone taking one last breath before impact. My plan? Slow my inevitable fall. The result? Total failure.
My body, indifferent to any effort or desperate attempt, kept accelerating, as if gravity had finally decided to claim me once and for all. Within seconds, a blazing sphere of fire formed around me, engulfing me completely.
The only “good” thing—if you could call it that—was that I felt no pain at all. But that didn’t make the scene any less grotesque: watching my own body melt away only to regenerate seconds later was deeply unsettling.
Still, I’d been through worse. Much worse. Like that time I turned, against my will, into a puddle of water on scorching asphalt... yeah, that memory still haunts me.
I have no idea how long I’ve been a human meteor, plummeting out of control toward the earth. Honestly, I don’t even know exactly where I’m going to land—which, let’s be real, is kind of an important detail.
At least I can take some comfort in one thing: I’m not about to cause another mass extinction like the one that wiped out the dinosaurs... right? I’m not nearly as big as that meteor, though the speed I’m falling at might disagree.
Even so, I really hope I don’t crash straight into someone. That scene would be far from pleasant—for me or for whatever poor soul had the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Meanwhile, my skin kept melting and regenerating over and over in an endless loop that seemed to defy any natural logic.
As I said before, the sight was grotesque—my skin liquefying, bits of me exposed for an instant before being covered again. Honestly, anyone would puke on the spot. I’d puke too... if I had a stomach. But even without that ability, the scene wasn’t any less repulsive.