Anomaly

Compared to the entire route we took to reach the park, the way back to the hospital was much easier — and, personally, a little anticlimactic. Still, Victor, Emily, and Laura didn’t seem to care one bit.
Even though the trip itself lasted only a few seconds, to me, it felt like hours dragging by in a suffocating silence — a heavy, almost tangible stillness in which no one dared to utter a single word.
In one moment, we were at the park, standing before the anomaly made of distorted mosaics; in the next, we found ourselves in the narrow, stifling corridor beneath the hospital, where rows of metal doors stood aligned like silent sentinels.
Using my Shadow Movements, followed by Shadow Teleportation, we crossed the distance between the park and the underground in mere seconds — the world dissolved into darkness and reappeared before us, wrapped in the smell of rust and disinfectant.
By the way, the mosaic anomaly still lingered in the park. Bringing it along would’ve been pointless. Why? Because it would soon vanish, having fulfilled its purpose — the reason for its existence up until that moment. It would disappear without a trace, returning to being just another part of me somewhere in the future.
The last image I had of it was its silhouette standing still, gaze fixed on the star-covered sky. I still couldn’t make out its face, but somehow, I felt that its expression carried a silent melancholy — the same one weighing on me right then.
The moment we reappeared in the silent, endless corridors beneath the hospital, my footsteps echoed through the damp darkness, followed closely by Emily, Laura, and Victor. None of them spoke a word.
The silence seemed to crawl along the walls, making the air around us feel almost suffocating — so dense and heavy that even I, an anomaly accustomed to indifference, began to feel a growing unease.
And what could I do about it? In the end, I was the one who had left Victor’s sister in that state. I don’t know for what purpose, or why it had to be her of all people. But that doesn’t change the essential truth — the guilt still falls on me. I’m the one most responsible for everything Victor had to endure, and nothing I do now will erase that.
Eventually, the path to the room where Sara — Victor’s sister — was staying was swallowed by heavy silence. When our steps finally stopped before the door, no one dared to move forward. Neither Victor, nor Emily, nor Laura took a single step.
It was as if that door were an invisible barrier — impossible to cross, impossible to break. The three of them stood motionless beside me, trapped between fear and uncertainty, while the air around us grew denser by the second.
Of the three, though, Victor was the worst. If his eyes had once resembled those of a dead fish, now it was as if his soul had completely abandoned his body. There was something hollow and mechanical in every movement — the blinking of his eyes, the faint rise and fall of his chest, even the simple act of existing — everything seemed reduced to a basic routine, a mechanical remnant of life carried on by instinct.
When none of them moved, I let out a resigned sigh. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them. Victor looked like a puppet with its strings cut — empty, lost in his own silence — while Emily and Laura did their best to act gently, as if any word or sudden motion might make him collapse for good.
Taking a step forward, I reached for the doorknob. But before my fingers could touch it, Victor’s voice finally echoed. It was hollow, stripped of emotion — as if each word had been torn from his throat by force. His tone was dead, lifeless, with no trace of the Victor who once existed: “Wait... I’ll do it myself”
When I turned to look at him, I met Victor’s eyes for a few moments. They were still so lifeless. There wasn’t a hint of emotion there — no flicker of doubt, no glimmer of regret — only that constant emptiness that made me shudder.
I had no reason to argue with him, and maybe, deep down, I knew he was right. In the end, I simply stepped aside, making room for him to pass. The heavy sound of his footsteps echoed briefly before fading into silence.
He took one step, then another — each movement seemed to fight against a gravity thicker than air. His feet dragged against the floor, unsteady, as if even walking demanded immense effort. When he finally reached the door, Victor lifted his hand. It trembled uncontrollably, his fingers rigid and pale, yet his eyes... remained vacant, lifeless, as if nothing inside him was left.
When Victor’s hand touched the doorknob, he didn’t open it right away. He just... stopped. His muscles tensed, frozen stiff, as if the cold had seeped into every fiber of his being. The air around us felt heavy, stagnant.
Behind me, Emily and Laura exchanged a quick glance — there was something uneasy in their faces, a mix of worry and confusion. They looked like they wanted to say something, anything, but in the end... both simply closed their eyes, as if words were useless before what was about to happen.
The seconds dragged by, heavy and suffocating, until Victor finally turned the knob. The dry click of the mechanism echoed down the hallway, breaking the oppressive silence. The door opened slowly, creaking faintly as if protesting the movement.
Victor entered first, followed closely by Emily and Laura. I lingered in the narrow, stifling corridor for a moment, staring at the long, shadowy walls that seemed to close in around me. Only then did I take a deep breath and step into Sara’s room.
Inside, I found Victor already seated in a chair beside the bed. His gaze was steady, patient, as if he had been waiting for something for a long time. Behind him, Emily and Laura stood side by side, keeping a respectful distance yet close enough to watch every movement, every word that might arise.
Without saying a word, I walked up to the girl lying on the bed — Sara. My steps halted beside Victor, and for a moment, the silence seemed to thicken.
My eyes had already changed; an ethereal glow — made up of countless colors blending like fragments of liquid light — filled my vision. I focused on the thin, translucent membrane that covered Sara’s body — so fragile and delicate it seemed to tremble at the faintest breath.
I waited. I didn’t need to interfere. The moment I had determined for that barrier’s existence was about to end. And somehow, I just knew it.
“So, in the end... we couldn’t do anything for her” Emily’s voice came from behind us — low, trembling, weighed down by a melancholy that seemed to hang in the air.
When I turned, I saw her distant gaze, the expression of someone still trying to accept what had happened. Beside her, Victor remained silent, his face rigid — but his eyes said the same thing: helplessness.
“I’m sorry, Victor... if only we had tried harder, maybe...” Laura’s words faltered halfway, caught in her throat as if each one were too heavy to let out.
Her lips trembled, her gaze flickering between regret and pain. It was clear there was so much more she wanted to say — emotions stirring inside her that simply couldn’t find shape in words.
I turned my gaze to Victor. His eyes were still lifeless, empty — as if his soul had left long ago. Even so, he slowly shook his head from side to side, a weak, almost imperceptible gesture.
His lips moved a few times, as though the words were trapped in his throat, until they finally escaped in a hoarse whisper: “You did everything you could... I know that ever since Sara ended up like this, you’ve studied everything out there, tried endless methods... went weeks — months — without proper sleep... it’s enough. In the end... we’re just... human”
Victor’s words hung in the air — heavy, hollow, stripped of all feeling. They sounded like an automatic response, something said only because it had to be said. And yet, his gaze never once left his sister.
I followed his eyes and looked at her as well. The membrane surrounding her was slowly dissolving, melting away like water being drained by something unseen. I had no idea what that thing was — nor how I had created it, or why.
I just watched, powerless, as every translucent fragment vanished, being absorbed back into Sara. Everything inside me screamed that the end was near. The final act of that entire scene was approaching.
Seeing that, I relayed the information to Victor, Emily, and Laura — my voice low but steady: (She should wake up soon)
Emily and Laura, right behind me, stepped closer with cautious movements, their curious eyes studying every inch of Sara, as if trying to understand what was happening.
Victor, on the other hand, shivered slightly when he heard my words — a barely noticeable tremor, but real nonetheless.
Even so, his expression remained steady, unmoving, as if carved from stone. His eyes, locked on his sister, didn’t blink — waiting, with silent intensity, for the moment she finally opened hers. And that moment didn’t take long to arrive.
Amid the silence that filled the room, the first of Sara’s movements shattered the stillness. Emily, Laura, and Victor all noticed the faint twitch of her fingers — subtle, almost unnoticeable, but undeniable.
For a moment, no one dared to speak. Behind me, Emily and Laura exchanged a quick glance, heavy with anticipation and unease, before fixing their eyes back on Sara — afraid to miss the next sign that she was truly waking up.
Victor said nothing, but it was impossible not to notice the faint spark slowly returning to his eyes — a timid flicker of hope.
Behind me, Emily and Laura shared the same expression; that same reflection of emotion shimmered within them, so vivid it was impossible to ignore.
And yet, I wasn’t hopeful. Even without my memories, there was something I knew — something that pulsed inside me like an uncomfortable certainty. I knew... and still, I didn’t tell the three of them. I didn’t tell Victor.
I can’t explain why. I tried to speak — I swear I did — but the words got stuck in my throat, as if some invisible force was holding them back.
It was as though my own mind refused to let them out, making it impossible to turn them into sound... into thought. I was the only one who knew.
I knew that the moment Sara — Victor’s sister — stood up, the moment her eyes opened again... she wouldn’t be the same.
She wouldn’t be the Sara Victor once knew, nor the one he’d shared laughter, fights, and memories with.
That Sara was gone — lost somewhere between life and whatever came after. And the truth is... I was the one responsible for it. Because it had to be done. Because, simply... there was no other choice.
In the absolute silence that filled the air, a faint movement broke the stillness. Lying on the bed, Sara moved her fingers — one by one — slowly, almost methodically. The gesture was strange, blending something mechanical with something human, as if her body were responding to a distant command.
Gradually, she leaned forward, the mattress creaking under her weight, until she was sitting up. Her eyes, however, remained closed — sealed, as if still refusing to wake.
I thought about saying something, but before the words could leave my lips — before I even had the chance — Victor jumped from his chair and wrapped Sara in an embrace. It was a sudden, almost desperate gesture, firm and tight enough to make him tremble.
His body seemed to be trying, by force, to convey everything his words could not. Sara, however, stayed motionless. She didn’t return the embrace, didn’t avert her gaze... it was as if that gesture simply couldn’t reach her.
“S-Sara... is that you? Please... tell me it’s really you” Victor’s voice faltered, breaking midway through his words. He seemed to struggle for breath, his trembling gaze caught somewhere between fear and hope: “I... I waited so long for this moment” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper: “The moment you... finally woke up”
It was a strange sound coming from him — fragile, almost unrecognizable. For the first time, his voice carried something I had never heard before: a raw, unguarded emotion — almost human. Sara, however, didn’t answer.
Instead, her gaze shifted slightly upward. Then, with an unsettling calm, she opened her eyes — red as burning embers, crossed by pupils of an intense blue that seemed to pulse with their own light, as if something ancient and powerful had just awakened within her.