The anomaly exploded in complete silence. There wasn’t a sound. No flash. Nothing. It just dissolved into thin air, like dust being sucked back into the void — a place it should never have come from.
I stood there for a while, frozen, taking deep breaths... though I wasn’t really breathing. It was just an automatic gesture, a hollow attempt to calm my mind, to organize thoughts scattered like the particles left from that thing.
In my hand, the heart of the anomaly still beat — slowly, in a strange, hypnotic rhythm — changing colors with every thump, like it was trying to mimic life. It was warm but didn’t burn. It vibrated, but made no noise. When I fixed my eyes on it, a subtle, almost imperceptible thought crossed my mind.
(Not so bad after all...) I thought, looking around.
Obviously, my words held little — if any — credibility given what I saw down the hallway. Once spotless and organized, it now showed visible dents on the walls, like something heavy had slammed into them over and over again.
Deep claw marks scarred the metal panels, like some desperate or aggressive creature had passed through, leaving behind traces that defied any logical explanation. The whole scene seemed to scream against everything I was trying to say.
My alter ego, who stood by my side, huffed again at my words. He gave me that usual skeptical look, as if waiting for me to say something less idiotic. Noticing this, I rolled my eyes, a bit impatient: (Okay, it was terrible... I admit it)
In the end, as if those were exactly the words he expected to hear, the shadows slowly retreated, sliding back to the ground like smoke dissipating into the wind. Then, without a trace, he simply vanished — once again becoming just a whispering echo around me, an absent presence that still weighed in the air. Behind me, Nyara stayed silent, her eyes fixed on me with an expression hard to read.
“Just like I expected from you, sister...” Nyara said, with a charming, sweet smile lighting up her face. There was something about that gesture — maybe the lightness in her eyes or the affectionate tone in her voice — that, for some reason, made me feel strangely proud.
Leaving Nyara behind, who for some reason was watching me like she saw something new in me — though honestly, I hadn’t done anything that impressive — I turned my attention back to the heart resting in my palm. My eyes still gleamed with rainbow colors, and because of that, everything around me seemed to gain a new layer of life.
From my point of view, that heart wasn’t just an organ: it beat with intensity, as if still alive, fighting the inevitable. Its essence — or rather, its colors — vibrated, radiating an almost hypnotic energy. It was like it was communicating with me. But the spectacle didn’t last long.
Watching from an aerial perspective — or rather, like I was seeing myself from a third person point of view — I noticed something forming right above my head: a sphere. At first, it was completely golden, shiny and bright. But as I watched, new colors started to appear on its surface.
One was purple, deep and dense, as if carrying an invisible weight. Another was a gold so intense and radiant that it made the shade of my own sphere look dull, almost faded in comparison. And then there was a third part... colorless.
But it wasn’t a typical lack of color — it wasn’t just transparent or empty. It actually seemed undecided, as if it didn’t know what color to take. It was a shade that suggested all colors at once while expressing none, a paradoxical existence that seemed to defy any definition, like it could be everything and nothing at the same time.
None of the colors overlapped or fought for space — it was like they all instinctively knew how to behave, harmonizing so each could shine in its own way inside my sphere. Their presence was striking, yet delicate, as if they danced between the obvious and the subtle.
Honestly, I had no idea my sphere had changed so much over time. It had been quite a while since I last looked at it carefully, and now it seemed almost unrecognizable — more mature, more complex. While these thoughts silently piled up in my mind, the sphere, slowly spinning above my head, finally started doing its job.
Slowly, the heart — which before beat with a myriad of vibrant colors, shifting and blending in an almost hypnotic show — began having its essence drained. The vivid hues were absorbed one by one by the sphere rotating gently above my head.
The process, though silent, carried an almost suffocating intensity. The scene lasted less than thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity. When it was over, the heart lay completely still.
Its once shiny surface was now dull, cold, and lifeless — an empty shell of what it used to be. The colors had vanished completely. And yet, inside me, I could clearly feel: a new anomalous power had been absorbed.
Of course, even knowing I’d gained a new power, there was no manual, no explanation about its nature or how to use it. In the end, I’d have to figure everything out on my own — like always. Over time, I was used to this lack of answers, so honestly, I didn’t worry too much about it.
Putting those thoughts aside, I slowly turned to Nyara, who stood silent behind me. Her eyes shone with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, fixed on something above my head. I knew she was watching the last traces of the sphere, which was starting to fade away, like it was being consumed by a thin mist.
A tense silence hung in the air, heavy with expectation. With a subtle, determined gesture, I whispered: (Let’s go)
My voice, which probably echoed softly inside Nyara’s mind, caught her attention. For a moment, her eyes blinked slowly, like waking from a trance, before locking directly onto me. She nodded slightly, silent but full of understanding.
Without exchanging any more words, we resumed walking down the facility’s dark corridors. Since the anomaly appeared, the lights hadn’t turned back on. Curiously, that didn’t bother us much.
For both Nyara and me, the darkness seemed transparent — our eyes saw with unusual clarity, like an inner light illuminated every detail around us, revealing the environment as clearly as a sunny day.
Anyway, for better or worse, no other strange anomalies appeared along our path. However, something caught my attention while walking down the hallway: the disappearance of the anomalies that should have been locked up in their containment cells.
Where could they be? Honestly, I had no idea. The silence in the corridor was almost tangible, broken only by the distant echo of our footsteps. Still, it didn’t take long before we finally reached the bathroom — the place Laura had pointed out as the location of Victor and Rupert.
As soon as we got there, I focused my gaze on the bathroom door. From inside came sounds — low noises, almost whispers — that immediately sparked my curiosity. It seemed whoever was in there was doing everything possible to make sure nothing happening inside could be heard outside. The atmosphere grew tense for a moment, but without hesitation, I raised my hand and knocked firmly on the door.
The next instant, no sound echoed back — or rather, I couldn’t hear a thing from inside. Even the breaths, which had been clear in my ears before, had vanished completely. Did I hear wrong? No, that couldn’t be a mistake; I was sure something had come from inside the bathroom.
Moreover, there was no doubt: this was exactly the place Emily had said Victor and Rupert were hiding. With that thought, I started to wonder how I could get in. Sure, I could just break the door down, but honestly, I preferred a quieter way — something that wouldn’t make noise or draw attention.
While thinking about this, a subtle, almost indifferent thought came to my mind, with little concern, almost like a silent wish: (If only I could pass through this door...)
It was just a simple thought, with no deep meaning or clear intention. Deep down, it was just a passing idea, almost empty. However, as if something invisible inside me instinctively responded to that seed of thought, before I could even notice, my arms resting lightly on the bathroom door didn’t just pass through it — “passing through” seemed too tame a word to describe what happened.
It was like my presence dissolved, merging with the void, slipping past the metal barrier as if it were smoke, vanishing in a silent, almost supernatural gesture. I felt a subtle ripple, like something between my hand and the door started to vibrate, a kind of nearly imperceptible distortion.
Before I could understand what was going on, the sensation quickly intensified — my hand, as if made of water, passed through the door without resistance. A strange chill ran through my arm, and almost automatically, my whole body followed the same path, sliding through the solid wood as if it didn’t exist. When I finally entered the bathroom, my face stayed calm and neutral, but inside I was in shock.
The surprise was overwhelming, a mix of disbelief and amazement. What the hell had just happened? How had I suddenly passed through a door like it was air? Of course, Victor and Rupert were as shocked as I was. They stared at me with wide eyes and open mouths, a mix of shock and disbelief. The silence between us was almost tangible, as if the air had frozen for a moment.
Instinctively, I looked down at my hand, fixing my gaze on it for a moment. A subtle thought, almost a whisper in my mind, flashed quickly: (Can I really pass through things now?)
As quickly as it came, the thought faded away. It was, without a doubt, the most logical reasoning, considering how I passed through the door. Yet, there was something — a deep, almost instinctive feeling — telling me this wasn’t all.
It wasn’t just about passing through; it was more like I “distorted” something while crossing that threshold. An unexpected thought crossed my mind, and the next moment, I tried to reconnect with that same feeling that came over me when the ripple appeared. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to hold on to that fleeting fragment.
When I opened them again, the scene before me confirmed all my suspicions: Victor and Rupert looked even more surprised, their eyes scanning their own bodies, as if trying to understand what had just happened, before finally looking around, perplexed.
Although I still didn’t know exactly what this power was, I had at least a vague idea of what it could be. It seemed that somehow, I could now completely erase my presence — or something very close to that.
Watching how Victor and Rupert acted, it felt like I’d been completely erased from their sensory perception, as if my existence had been wiped from their sight, sound, smell, and even touch.
It was like I had become an invisible, intangible ghost. Also, I realized this power went further: I could distort space and time, or something like that, allowing me to pass through solid objects like shadows.
It wasn’t an offensive ability, nor an attack power, but its usefulness was undeniable — opening possibilities for infiltration, escape, or just avoiding direct confrontations. It was a strange and subtle talent, but if used well, it could make all the difference.
Anyway, leaving my new anomalous power aside for now, besides Victor and Rupert, there was another person in the bathroom — a man who seemed unconscious, his body half-slumped against the wall. I stared at him for a few seconds, assessing the situation, but ended up shrugging. Emily and Laura had experience and would know exactly what to do with him, so I didn’t need to worry too much.