There are many crises throughout life that we tend to call "simple" Work problems, conflicts with kids, disagreements with parents — everyday situations that, although exhausting, are just part of being human. At that moment, Emily was going through a crisis too.
But there was a difference — a subtle but crucial one. While most people deal with ordinary problems, Emily’s crises usually involved anomalies. And let’s be honest, crises involving anomalies are never really simple.
One single mistake, a moment of distraction, and the result could be catastrophic. Lives could be lost, realities compromised, and the fragile balance — between what is known and what shouldn’t exist — could collapse all at once.
Yeah... unfortunately, right then, Emily was in the middle of one of her crises. Her chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm as she swallowed hard, trying to keep control. Slowly, she raised her eyes — more precisely, fixed her gaze on the glass wall separating the long corridor from the [Angel of Death] containment room. That’s when she saw it.
Something — a distorted, indescribable presence — was pressing against the glass from the outside, as if trying to force its way inside the containment room. The glass surface trembled slightly, letting out subtle cracks, like it was on the verge of breaking. Emily froze. Her whole body stiffened at the scene unfolding before her, unable to fully grasp what she was seeing — or maybe refusing to believe it.
There was no face, no features — just a dark void where one should be. All that existed were two huge, bloodshot eyes, bulging out. They were so red, so saturated with tension, that Emily felt like they could burst at any moment.
They stared at her with an unnatural intensity, as if they could pierce through her flesh and peer directly into her soul. Besides the eyes, there was a mouth — a huge, grotesque mouth, stretched impossibly wide, almost touching the sides of the skull.
It formed an unnatural arc, exaggeratedly high, trying to mimic a human smile — but failing in a terrifying way. That wasn’t a smile, it was a cruel parody of what should be an expression of joy.
Just looking at that monstrous face sent a chill down Emily’s spine, followed by such intense nausea she had to lean against the wall. Her stomach churned, and she felt like she might throw up any second. “That thing” — whatever it was — seemed to mock the very idea of humanity.
Honestly, it was a relatively easy anomaly to contain — or at least, its containment didn’t require huge resources, just a high degree of caution. Still, getting reliable data on it was notoriously difficult.
It’s extremely hostile behavior made any attempt to get close an imminent risk: it attacked anything that moved, without distinction. This aggressive trait almost completely ruled out any direct study. After all, to analyze it effectively, they’d first need to make it manifest — and that alone put lives at risk.
As these thoughts raced through Emily’s mind, Laura’s voice came quietly from beside her, trembling as if each word weighed heavily on her lips. There was a controlled tone, but loaded with panic, clearly showing the tension consuming her amid the gravity of the situation: “Boss... what are we gonna do? If that thing gets in... we’re all gonna die”
Emily listened silently, her eyes fixed on some random point as her mind scrambled for a way out of the desperate situation. She tried in vain to find a plausible solution — at least a way to examine the anomaly’s main body. Maybe if they could just get a closer look, they’d understand how to neutralize it. But given the circumstances, that seemed nearly impossible.
The creature was outside, still but alert, like a patient beast stalking its prey. The only way out of the containment room would be if someone was brave enough — or insane enough — to face that thing head-on, knowing that the slightest slip would send it lunging at them like a starving predator.
Emily shot another glance at the creature thrashing violently against the containment barriers, its twisted limbs pounding the reinforced walls with a force that made the floor tremble slightly. Then she turned to the visitors.
Overall, everyone looked on the verge of collapse — pale faces, sweaty, wide eyes full of pure terror. Some were so overcome by panic they could barely stand, while others had slid down the walls, sitting on the floor, struggling to breathe.
The air felt heavy, suffocating, thick with nearly tangible tension. The anomaly kept attacking, and each impact sent a collective jolt through the group, as if at any moment the nightmare on the other side of the glass could become real.
Then, a sound echoed — brief, muffled, but heavy with an almost tangible weight. It was the sharp crack of something about to give way, like the whisper of impending disaster. A second later came the unmistakable sound of cracks forming — glass under pressure, slowly giving in.
Emily, seized by an instinctive chill, looked back at the glass... and what she saw made her heart freeze. Cracks spread across the surface like spiderwebs, growing alarmingly fast. A few more seconds, and the only barrier between her and that thing outside would be gone.
At that moment, Emily genuinely thought for the first time that this was the end for her. She didn’t know why, but the [Angel of Death] — usually active in situations — was silent.
Emily tried to find a reason for this but couldn’t. Her mind seemed foggy, the strength she usually summoned in crises simply wasn’t there. All that remained was the growing sound of the glass breaking.
But at that exact moment, when Emily thought all was lost, a suffocating feeling took over her body. The air seemed to vanish around her — for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. Her legs wobbled, trembling as if about to give out, and her vision blurred, foggy like frosted glass.
Her heart raced in panic. She felt something. No, she was certain there was something there with them — an invisible, silent presence, but absolutely real. It was close. Very close. Behind her. Emily tried to move, but fear paralyzed her.
She couldn’t even turn her head. And then she heard it. Footsteps. Slow, hesitant, almost childlike — like a baby learning to walk. But there was something wrong about them. Despite their apparent fragility, each step sounded with the cold force of a glacier moving: inevitable, heavy, colossal.
Only one thought could cross Emily’s mind at that moment — a cold whisper, almost inaudible, rooting itself amid the chaos around her: something terrifying had arrived.
Moreover, the feeling that took hold of her in that moment was unlike anything she had ever faced before. All the other anomalies, no matter how terrifying they had been, now seemed like mere children—fragile, harmless, almost newborn—when compared to the presence rising behind her. It was as if the very air had grown heavier, as if something ancient and unfathomable was watching her every move, waiting patiently for the perfect moment to strike.
I watched Nekra’s back closely as she slowly walked away from where we were. Her bare feet glided over the floor with an almost ghostly lightness, making a subtle sound charged with a strange intensity that cut through the absolute silence around us.
The place seemed frozen in time, as if every breath and heartbeat were held in that moment. All eyes were on Nekra, who casually moved toward the glass wall. On the other side, the anomaly lay there, with a distorted and grotesque smile that froze the air, spreading a cold, threatening feeling throughout the space.
The anomaly, noticing Nekra’s approach, opened an even wider grin — grotesque, almost supernatural, stretched beyond the limits of human physiology. It was a twisted expression that gave you chills just looking at it.
But that disturbing smile didn’t last long. I don’t know why exactly, but all I know is that after a few — mere seconds — watching Nekra, the expression vanished abruptly, as if it had never existed.
The face that had shown a sadistic and nearly insane joy now twisted into a chaotic mix of horror, fear, and panic, as if a wave of overwhelming confusion and despair was building inside, ready to explode.
Suddenly, the floating expression turned sharply, as if wanting to flee, but something held it back. An invisible presence gripped the anomaly firmly. The dark corridor outside seemed alive, pulsating and twisting around it, as if the darkness itself was a capturing creature.
Nekra continued her calm walk toward the glass, the light sound of her steps softly echoing off the cold walls. That’s when something caught my attention — a subtle but disturbing detail I hadn’t noticed until then.
The outside seemed strangely vast, or rather, it seemed to have expanded beyond what I could comprehend. The corridor’s darkness grew even more oppressive, dense, and almost tangible, like it had a presence of its own — a silent, threatening life. That was exactly when I realized: the “outside” of my room was no longer the same.
It was no longer just the familiar corridor — everything had turned into an endless blackness, a darkness so deep that it was impossible to tell where it started or ended. The air felt colder, heavier, and an absolute silence filled the strange space, as if time itself had stretched along with the darkness.
Nekra walked on without hurry, her footsteps softly resonating in the silent environment. Finally, she stopped near the glass wall. Her golden eyes, with irises glowing an intense shade of purple, fixed on the anomaly on the other side.
She stared at it with a mixture of curiosity and challenge. On the other side, the anomaly returned the gaze, but its smile was gone, almost melting into the despair showing on its pale, tense face — the look of prey recognizing, with absolute fear, its predator.
The next instant, a single command slipped from Nekra’s lips — simple and subtle, but filled with immense authority, a power so deep and vast it seemed endless, impossible to fully fathom. The word cut through the air with silent force, resonating in the minds of those who heard it: “Do it”
The command was almost a whisper, but the absolute silence of that place made even that low voice echo for everyone present. That’s how Nekra spoke — almost inaudible, yet impossible to ignore.
Her purple cloak, whose edges looked like flickering flames, moved softly, as if alive. I felt nothing — no sudden change in the air or space around — but my eyes caught something strange: something hidden within Nekra’s cloak slid out naturally, without hurry or effort.
It wasn’t teleportation, nor a quick movement — it was as if whatever had always been trapped inside that fabric was finally free, now present in the outside world, as real as the air we breathed.
Then, two eyes appeared outside — purple eyes, in a shade so deep and hypnotizing that it was impossible to look away or not be mesmerized by them. That penetrating gaze seemed to pierce the darkness, locking directly onto the anomaly.
It was impossible to tell their size; they didn’t seem to have defined limits, as if they were a manifestation of the very infinite darkness dominating the outside — a vast, undefined being owning those vibrant, almost supernatural eyes.
Suddenly, the darkness around my room began to move, flowing with an almost conscious intent. It slowly advanced like a living shadow, enveloping the anomaly in its dark cloak.
Gradually, the strange presence merged with the night, disappearing into the black vastness. I could no longer feel it; it was as if the anomaly had become part of that dark abyss, vanishing forever into the shadows now reigning outside.
Inside my room, however, absolute silence reigned. No word was brave enough to break that heavy quiet, as if everyone feared any sound might attract whatever was lurking outside. The air felt dense, loaded with tension and fear, and even the slightest whisper seemed an unthinkable risk.
Except, of course, for one unsettling presence next to me — an angelic-looking entity with a strange, unsettling glow in its eyes. With a half-ironic smile, it broke the silence: “Well, initial problem solved!”