Anomaly

Amid those red eyes with bluish pupils that seemed to stare into nothingness, my face remained impassive—a perfect mask to hide the storm inside me. On the outside, there was only indifference; on the inside, surprise and discomfort mingled.
I knew Victor’s sister would change; it was etched into my memories. I knew she wouldn’t be the same. Yet... even I couldn’t have imagined such a deep transformation, so far from the person she once was.
Of course, I wasn’t the only one shocked. Beside me, Emily and Laura were also staring at Victor’s sister with bewildered expressions. It was obvious they had noticed the change in Sara—or perhaps, in what used to be Sara.
Their eyes were wide, shining with disbelief, and their slightly parted mouths seemed to search for words that wouldn’t come. Even the air around us felt thick, heavy.
Victor’s “sister” until now motionless in his arms, finally reacted. Her bluish pupils moved slowly, first settling on Emily, then on Laura, examining them with an unsettling calm.
Her face, however, remained expressionless—and honestly, if my own expression tends to be just indifferent, hers went beyond that: completely empty, cold, as if any trace of humanity had been erased.
The moment that gaze landed on them, Emily and Laura simply... froze. It wasn’t a choice—their bodies just gave way. Their legs weakened, muscles tensed in an instinctive reflex, and their eyes, wide open, locked onto the void.
It was as if the air around them had grown too dense to breathe, trapping them in a suffocating silence. Victor’s “sister,” on the other hand, remained still. She watched them with a disconcerting serenity—cold, detached—as if observing something small, insignificant.
Then, slowly, her pupils shifted, sliding until they fixed on me. When the deep blue of her eyes met mine, something inside me wavered—a sudden, almost physical shiver. A heavy, uneasy sensation ran through my body, as if something ancient, dormant deep in my memory, were trying to wake.
It was strange... there was an unsettling familiarity in that gaze, a spark of something I didn’t know whether I should fear or welcome. A bitter nostalgia washed over me, and try as I might, I simply couldn’t look away.
Sara, still wrapped in Victor’s arms, studied me for a long moment. I returned her gaze, unable to look away. I couldn’t explain what was happening, but I felt something growing between us—a silent, almost tangible connection, as if invisible threads bound us together. Deep in my mind, a voice whispered that I knew her... that she meant something to me.
My lips moved, and for a brief moment, my thoughts seemed to align. But before a word could escape, Victor, in a sudden motion, held Sara’s shoulders and gently pulled her back.
His gesture was restrained but tense—as if fighting something within himself. Small tears ran down the corners of his eyes, reflecting a mix of fear and confusion. He watched her in silence... Sara, his “sister”—or at least, what she was supposed to be.
“Sa-Sara... are you feeling okay?” Victor’s voice wavered, trembling, as if each word fought to come out. The soft tone tried to mask the unease building in his chest. He leaned forward, eyes scanning her face with genuine concern: “You’ve been lying down for months, barely eating... any pain? Any discomfort? Anything at all?”
He leaned a little closer, as if afraid of invading her space. His hand, trembling, slid to Sara’s shoulder—a light touch, almost asking for permission. His voice came out low, laden with uncertainty: “Just tell me... I’ll do whatever I can to help you”
There was sincere urgency in every word—a fragile mix of fear and hope, intertwined almost painfully. Yet beneath that layer of desperation, something else pulsed within him—something he tried, in vain, to restrain. Victor’s “sister,” however, remained silent.
Her bluish pupils, opaque like glass in the dim light, slowly moved until they found the face of the man holding her. For a moment, she simply watched him, motionless, before tilting her head slightly to the side, as if trying to understand what she saw.
Yet, when she looked at Victor, her expression stayed blank—indifferent, cold. It made me uncomfortable in a way I couldn’t explain. Even I could feel how strange the situation was... how strange Sara had become.
And Victor? I was certain he noticed too. It would have been impossible not to. Still, he remained there, motionless, as if nothing was happening—or maybe... as if he was forcing himself not to care.
I stayed silent, just watching. I wanted to say something—anything—to tell Victor what was going on inside me, but the words simply refused to come. It was as if something deep down held me by the throat, whispering that I shouldn’t. Meanwhile, Victor’s “sister” showed no hesitation.
“Victor Hale... if my memory serves me right, we’re blood siblings — same mother, same father. You were the one who took care of me while I was without my memories and powers. I’m grateful you did that... until the time for my return finally came” Her words sounded cold, almost mechanical, as if they’d been recited by a machine trying to mimic human emotion.
Each syllable felt measured, polished, and released into the air with surgical precision. The look she kept fixed on Victor was an abyss — empty, analytical — like someone watching an experiment reach its inevitable end.
Her voice was monotone, almost mechanical—as if each word were produced by a machine failing to imitate human sound. There was no warmth, no pain, not even a trace of life in her tone.
Still... something remained. A distant echo, almost imperceptible — like the memory of a feeling long forgotten. A shadow of emotion hidden behind that empty gaze. And somehow, I could feel it — faint, but real.
I felt a slight tremor run through Victor’s body. He stared at Sara standing before him — her empty, cold eyes seemed to pierce straight through him. I watched as his expression slowly changed, uncertainty drawing itself across every line of his face. And then I saw it, deep within his eyes — another feeling beginning to take shape. Subtle, but inevitable. Fear, quietly seeping into his heart.
“W-What are you saying, Sara?” Victor’s voice faltered, trembling, as if every word cost him more than it should. His hands tightened on “Sara’s” shoulders — his fingers shaking, torn between holding on and letting go. His eyes darted from side to side, as if searching for an answer in the void: “Why are you talking like that all of a sudden? Do you... do you actually feel something? Are you in pain?”
Watching the scene, Laura — who had remained silent beside Emily until then — finally moved her lips. The words that escaped were few, barely a whisper, just a name, before she bit her lower lip hard and clenched her fists, as if trying to hold something inside.
Her eyes wavered, helpless against what was unfolding: “... Victor”
Emily, on the other hand, watched Sara with a puzzled expression — a faint glimmer of deep understanding in her eyes, as though she could see beyond the words themselves. Her lips parted slightly, about to form a sentence, but she hesitated for a brief moment. Then, with a quiet sigh, she closed them again and looked down, where the silence seemed to weigh as heavily as her own doubts.
“Sara” didn’t respond to Victor’s words — not this time. Instead, her blue pupils slowly shifted toward me. There was something different about them now — a faint glimmer that hadn’t been there before. And when her voice finally broke the silence, it wasn’t just Victor, Emily, and Laura who were left stunned.
"Dear older sister" said “Sara” — her voice still mechanical and cold, yet carrying a faint tremor, an almost imperceptible trace of human emotion, as if a distant echo of feeling were beginning to awaken within the metal: "My assimilation isn’t complete yet. I’ll need more time to break the seal you created... only then will I be able to fully regain control of my authority"
I absorbed those words in silence, letting them echo through my mind for a few seconds. Beside me, Emily and Laura turned their gaze toward me — still confused, but with a flicker of understanding dawning in their eyes. They seemed to have reached the same conclusion as I had, as if our thoughts had followed the same invisible thread.
Victor, however, didn’t move. His body stiffened at her words — as though he feared that if he asked again, if she spoke once more, everything would be confirmed at once: his suspicions, his fears, the truth he refused to admit even to himself.
The last image I had of Victor was of him swallowing hard, his lips moving slowly, uncertainly, as if trying to give shape to thoughts too chaotic to become words. It was as though he wanted to cast them out — maybe even scream — but couldn’t.
The moment I heard those words, something inside me broke. A distant memory — long buried — surged violently to the surface, flooding my mind. The missing pieces suddenly fit together, and a deafening hum filled my head.
I remembered. The reason I did what I did to Victor’s sister... it wasn’t cruelty, nor despair. It was necessity. Necessary so that Chronas — my younger sister, the one who governs time itself — could return.
Yet things were far different from what I had imagined. Sara... she was never really Victor’s sister. From birth, she had always been Chronas. That dormant entity had existed within her all along — silent, patient, waiting for the right moment to awaken.
Sara, by herself, was nothing more than my creation — an automatic vital function I designed to protect Chronas while she slept inside that body. Every movement, every breath, every emotion Sara had... were merely echoes of a system programmed to keep her alive until the inevitable awakening.
As consciousness returned in full, I looked down at my own hands. They were white — almost translucent — too pale to belong to anything human. Light passed through my skin as if it were made of living glass.
At that moment, the truth hit me with full weight: I wasn’t human. I was an anomaly, something beyond logic — a being beyond comprehension, endowed with powers no human could ever grasp.
Of course, I was fully aware that I wasn’t human — by that point, it was impossible to ignore. Still, maybe, deep down, a part of me clung to the idea that I was closer to being “human” than “anomalous”. But not anymore.
When the truth finally revealed itself — that “Sara” Victor’s sister, was actually a kind of machine I had created — something inside me crumbled. A sudden wave of confusion washed over me, as though my own body didn’t know how to react.
I... I created a human? I created life? How was that even possible? The questions tumbled through my mind, and none of the answers made sense. The thought itself just wouldn’t fit — it slipped through my thoughts like something impossible to accept.
I wasn’t a god — in fact, I was probably as far from being one as anything could be. I’m indifferent by nature; I can watch humans die before my eyes, and unless I know them personally, it simply doesn’t affect me. Their deaths are nothing more than muffled sounds in the background of existence.
But it’s different with a few of them. Victor, Emily, Laura... even Rupert. And there are others — rare ones — like that family I met when Nyara awakened. They’re exceptions, tiny sparks of humanity that, for some reason, still manage to reach me. Among billions, they’re a minuscule minority... and maybe that’s exactly why they’re so hard to ignore.
Then, suddenly, it clicked. A moment ago, I realized why I feel the way I do about them. I understood them because I could create them — humans. To me, they were nothing more than complex machines, puppets I could mold and program at will. I can’t do that now, not in this moment... but it’s undeniable — that’s one of my powers.
In the end, even the few humans I still cared for were, in my eyes, nothing more than machines — slightly more “advanced” robots than the rest. And faced with that thought, a single cold, relentless question echoed in my mind: Who — or what the hell — was I really?