Anomaly
Chapter 175 – When logic escapes [16]

(POV - Emily Parker)

Emily wondered, with an almost painful seriousness, if she was really right to put all her hopes on the [Angel of Death]. Deep down, that’s exactly what she’d been doing all along — and honestly, what else could she do? From her point of view, the smartest decision she’d made so far was to keep herself out of sight, away from life-or-death situations that seemed to multiply. Call it cowardice if you want. To Emily, it was just a matter of survival.

Yet, it was precisely that cowardice that had kept Emily alive until now. And if being a coward was the price to pay for staying alive, so be it. But even cowardice had its limits. What good was shrinking back and hiding if the whole world was falling apart? If everything was being swallowed by devastating tsunamis.

Earthquakes ripping through the ground, furious hurricanes, and volcanoes spewing fire and ash? Where, after all, could a coward like Emily possibly hide? The cruel truth was that in the face of total chaos, there was no safe refuge. No cave, no basement, no isolated shelter would protect her from the inevitable end.

At that moment, Emily found herself considering countermeasures she would never have even thought of under normal circumstances. Using some provenly powerful anomaly to contain the chaos? The idea sounded insane — and yet strangely tempting.

Her mind started scanning, almost automatically, the record of the most destructive and unpredictable anomalies known, imagining how each could be manipulated in her favor. However, the truth was unavoidable: even if one worked, the cost would be far too high.

The chaos it would unleash afterward might be even worse than the current threat. Besides, there was a deeper, more disturbing doubt: could any anomaly really cancel out the powers of that new Virtue? No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, Emily knew — with an uncomfortable certainty — that the answer was a loud and inescapable no.

Emily brought both hands to her head, fingers tangled in her own hair, while her feet tapped rhythmically on the floor, the sound of her shoes echoing through the empty room. It was her instinctive way to try to relieve the stress consuming her, though it was clear that repetitive gesture brought no relief. The nervousness seemed to emanate from her like an electric current, making the air around almost tangible.

Then, beside her, Laura’s voice cut through the silence like a blade: “Uh? What the hell’s going on?”

The tone was surprised and doubtful. By then, Emily was already expecting another natural disaster to add to the long list of tragedies threatening the world. Her eyes, previously lost in emptiness, fixed on the projection before her. For a moment, everything around seemed to fall silent.

Then, as if something had shifted in the very rhythm of chaos, the image on the screen began to change. What was once pure disorder — flames and collapses — slowly started to calm down. And at that exact moment, Emily’s eyes, until then unfocused, sharpened unexpectedly. Something was changing. And she noticed.

Emily kept her gaze fixed on the projection, slightly furrowing her brow. She blinked several times, as if trying to shake off the doubt creeping into her mind. No matter how carefully she analyzed it, the data and charts kept pointing to the same conclusion: everything was stabilizing — suddenly, almost inexplicably. It was as if chaos had decided to stop on its own will, without warning, without apparent logic.

“It’s... stopping?” Victor asked, frowning, his voice tinged with hesitation.

“I think... yeah?” Emily replied hesitantly, as if she wasn’t even sure herself: “At least, that’s what the charts say”

Emily wondered, for a brief moment, how that could be possible. But it took only a second for a face to clearly appear in her mind. She had no concrete clue to believe it.

Still, what other explanation could there be for all the disasters just stopping — all at once? A subtle, almost imperceptible smile crept at the corner of her lips as that thought took hold.

However, the ones who really answered the question hanging in the air, involving everyone in the room, were the two silent anomalies, whose looks carried secrets no one — except themselves — could describe.

“Oh! Looks like the sister pulled it off” said the anomaly with an angelic appearance, her voice ringing with a cheerful yet playful tone, as if savoring every moment of that small triumph. A subtle smile played at the corners of her lips, and her eyes shone with an almost ethereal light, full of curiosity and delight.

But her voice revealed no hint of doubt or surprise at the outcome; it actually seemed like that was what she had expected all along. It was as if, somehow, that outcome was inevitable, natural, almost predestined. Meanwhile, the anomaly with the dark appearance simply nodded silently, her eyes fixed on the scene before her, absorbing every word.

Laura, for her part, couldn’t hide the satisfaction she felt and let out praise with a radiant smile lighting up her face: “I told you! The [Angel of Death] would handle this easily” Laura said confidently, almost as if she had predicted every step of this moment.

Hearing Laura’s words, Emily felt as if an invisible weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders, and she let out a deep sigh of relief. Even Victor, watching from a distance, showed a much calmer expression, a noticeable change from the nearly palpable tension that had dominated his features minutes before. His face, once marked by restrained despair, now expressed a shy calm, as if a thread of hope had been restored.

Besides, Emily couldn’t deny Laura’s words, even though she had been skeptical at first, considering the whole situation and what she knew about the [Angel of Death’s] powers. Maybe she was the most logical when it came to observation and analysis, but Laura had acted completely guided by feeling and intuition.

In the end, this served to show Emily that not everything presented to us should be accepted as absolute — often, there are hidden variables that can completely change the most basic understandings of something. This revelation made her realize that sometimes reason and emotion need to walk together to reach a deeper understanding.

***

(POV – Protagonist)

Holding Nyara with an almost painful tenderness, I gently stroked her head. An invisible tear, born from the purest despair, silently slid down my face as my eyes examined every detail of my new appearance — I was "reborn." I had grown, but in a strange way, my body seemed like a hybrid between a 16-year-old teenager and a 10-year-old child.

I was still a bit smaller than Nyara, whose presence radiated strength and security, but now I towered over Nekra and Althea in height. The feeling was strange, as if my soul had aged within my rejuvenated skin, and I didn't know if that was a gift or a curse.

My hair had grown so long it almost reached my ankle, sliding smoothly across the floor with each step. My appearance, once delicate and fragile, which caused many to mistake me for a child of only 10 years old, had changed significantly.

Now, my face revealed clear maturation, though it still preserved that purity and youthful lightness that always defined me. Definitely, I could no longer be called a child.

However, what truly differentiated me — or perhaps set me apart — was my physical structure. At first glance, without a closer look, I could easily be mistaken for a beautiful young woman. Technically, my gender was still undefined, but my body already displayed some gentle curves.

Yet, that impression only holds for those who look from afar or distractedly. On closer inspection, one can see that my appearance remains androgynous, a delicate balance between masculine and feminine. I am still easily mistaken for a woman, but I still leave that small doubt in the air.

As I held my solemn gaze, trying to hide the storm of despair consuming me inside, Nyara’s soft voice echoed beside me, carrying that calm and shy tone only she had: “Sister... do you happen to remember why “She” did this?”

I blinked gently before lowering my eyes. Nyara looked at me with an almost palpable curiosity; there was something strange in that moment, as if I could swear a small dog tail was slowly wagging behind her, a mixture of expectation and silent impatience as she awaited my answer.

Anyway, it became absolutely clear to me that “She” was none other than the creator of all virtues... perhaps even my own creator — in other words, my mother. But honestly, my memories about her were still vague, almost like scattered fragments that didn't fit completely. Even the reason why I sealed Nyara remains uncertain.

It wasn’t something I truly desired; it felt more like an external request, an obligation I had to fulfill because it seemed the right thing to do at the time, given the situation... But what situation exactly? I have no idea yet — at least, not for now.

Amid the torrent of my thoughts, something unexpected caught my attention. Beneath the calm surface of the lake, my Alter Ego emerged gently, fixing me with its red and piercing gaze. Its eyes shone with an intense, almost hypnotic red, as if capable of piercing every hidden fragment of my mind.

As I stood there, fascinated by that living reflection, memories began to surface in my mind — vague and deep recollections about the origin of that figure, about what my Alter Ego truly represented.

Simply a silent guardian, destined to protect Nyara’s sacred resting place — a small and seemingly harmless octopus whose mission was only to conceal Nyara’s presence from threats that might emerge from the depths of the Black Lake. However, Nyara is not an ordinary being.

She is the personification of chaos, her existence intertwined inseparably with this primordial force. The universe, in turn, is a vast stage of destruction and rebirth, and, interestingly, it is precisely in chaos that the seed of rebirth resides. Thus, Nyara, guardian and chaos, symbolizes the eternal cycle where disorder brings renewal.

Taking this into account, the very cradle where Nyara once rested was located at the heart of the largest black hole ever known — an abyss where the laws of reality dissolve and nothing follows logic. It was, in essence, the perfect place for Nyara to develop freely, immersed in primordial chaos. However, when she was sealed, unfortunately, that original refuge ceased to exist.

That’s why I created the lake: a dark and deep space, with no end in sight, where darkness embraces everything and time seems to stretch infinitely. Curiously, I don’t remember the process of its creation, only the certainty that the lake was my work — a sanctuary of mystery and silence, as vast and unknown as the ocean itself.

At the bottom of the lake, there was no defined pattern of direction; therefore, anything could get there. This lack of spatial logic made the presence of Nyara’s guardian absolutely essential.

While Nyara slept, she became vulnerable and unstable, and if attacked in this state, the instability generated could trigger unimaginable consequences.

Of course, Nyara could not simply die — “dying” was a distant and strange concept for a virtue like her, something almost illogical to apply to her existence.

However, I couldn’t say the same about what lay beyond Nyara. Honestly, I never imagined that the simple octopus I created as camouflage for Nyara would become that colossal creature I faced in the lake.

And even more surprising was the fact that, by absorbing the power of that being, something new was born between me and the octopus: a hybrid entity, endowed with unprecedented powers and abilities, carrying my memories almost intact, sealed in their entirety — except, curiously, for the information about “Her.” Well, to be honest, I can’t say that this absence bothers me that much.

On the other hand, what really sparked my curiosity was trying to understand exactly what I had done for my memories to simply disappear. At that moment, the likelihood that I was originally human started to drop almost astronomically.

Still, the doubt remained: after all, what were these fragmented memories of my time as a human that still lingered in my mind? Somehow, they didn’t seem like mere artificial implants, but something much more genuine, as if they carried the essence of a life I had truly lived.