Anomaly

In the end, after Emily, Laura, and Arthur had gone over every possible variable and ruled out one hypothesis after another, only one option remained: begin the cleansing, regardless of whatever was causing all the instability within Charlotte's domain. The biggest problem, however, remained unsolved.

We still had absolutely no idea where any of this had started. Honestly, the source could have been anywhere in the city... or, in the worst-case scenario, anywhere in the world. There simply wasn't enough time to search blindly, hoping luck would be on our side while the situation grew worse with every passing minute.

That was exactly why I made the most of the time Charlotte and I still had left. While Emily and Laura organized the equipment and prepared for our departure, I focused all my efforts on teaching Charlotte how to use her own powers like a kind of sonar.

If we could get her to sense the distortions left behind by the anomaly, even in the most rudimentary way, she might be able to pinpoint the source of the problem far faster than any conventional method ever could. It was a gamble, no doubt about that... but right now, it was also the best chance we had.

Strangely enough, I think I'm actually qualified to talk about something like this. I don't know exactly why, but I've never had much trouble detecting those... "anomalous energies", or whatever the proper term for them is.

That was true with the priest, and it was true with my sisters as well. I've always been able to sense, with surprising clarity, the direction they were coming from, as though some part of my mind simply knew where to look.

The problem was that, surprisingly, explaining something I'd been doing from the very beginning, something I'd always experienced more as an instinct than as a consciously used ability, turned out to be far more difficult than I'd expected.

I mean... how exactly was I supposed to explain to Charlotte how to direct that "sonar" toward something specific? For me, it had always happened completely on its own. I never had to think about it, calculate anything, or follow any sort of process.

All it took was an unusual presence somewhere nearby, and sooner or later, I'd simply notice it. It was like trying to teach someone how to hear a sound you'd never had to learn to hear yourself.

Because of that, as much as I genuinely wanted to help her, I realized I had absolutely no idea how to put that feeling into words. I knew how to do it... I just didn't know how to explain it.

In the end, all I managed to teach Charlotte was how to distinguish between the different "energies" she could already sense, helping her notice the subtle differences between each presence so she could narrow in more accurately on the one we were actually searching for.

Even then, it didn't solve our biggest problem: Charlotte would still have to figure out on her own which of those energies was the right one. Honestly, at that point, both of us were placing a great deal of faith in what Selyra had told us.

We hoped her words meant exactly what we'd understood, that once we got close enough to the right location, Charlotte would instinctively know which direction to follow. It was a risky bet, based far more on intuition than certainty, but considering everything that had happened so far, it wasn't as though we had a better alternative.

As for the problems caused by my leaving the base alongside Charlotte, Emily and Laura ended up handling everything for us. I have no idea what kind of conversation they had with the High Council, much less what arguments they used to convince them.

Even so, I imagine the Council didn't have many options besides agreeing. At the end of the day, whether they liked it or not, we were still their best, and perhaps only, chance.

Once everything was ready, Emily, Laura, Victor, Rupert, and Arthur had already gathered inside the warehouse that led to the massive elevator providing access to the enormous underground complex where the anomalies were being contained.

The air echoed with the metallic clatter of equipment being organized, weapons receiving one final inspection, and quiet voices exchanging last-minute information before departure.

While Emily, Laura, Rupert, Arthur, and Victor made their final preparations, checking backpacks, equipment, and supplies, Charlotte stood a few steps away outside the warehouse beside her parents.

Yes, as surprising as it might seem, both of them had decided to accompany her on this dangerous mission. Neither of them could find any peace knowing their daughter would be putting herself in danger without them being there to protect her if something unexpected happened.

As for me, I remained several yards away from the group, sitting atop one of the large shipping containers scattered around the yard outside the warehouse. In silence, I simply watched the three of them interact. The concern in Charlotte's parents' eyes was unmistakable, even though they tried to hide it so they wouldn't make the tension any worse.

Honestly, that wasn't anything new. They still seemed to harbor a certain amount of distrust toward me. And, thinking about it, I couldn't really blame them. After all, I was the one taking their daughter into a potentially deadly place.

Letting that thought slowly fade into the back of my mind, my golden eyes, glowing like burning candles, naturally drifted toward the sky, painted in a deep shade of gray. It wasn't raining, but the heavy clouds hung so low that it felt as though the first drop could fall at any moment.

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The air felt strangely heavy, saturated with an invisible tension that not even the wind seemed capable of dispersing. Even so, it wasn't the possibility of rain that held my attention. It was the sky itself.

There was something about it that stirred a deeply unsettling feeling inside me. I couldn't explain why, it simply... felt wrong. The sensation was familiar, similar to what I'd experienced during my previous encounters with my sisters. The difference, however, was impossible to ignore.

Whenever I stood before them, that strange perception carried a trace of nostalgia, an odd sense of familiarity, as though some forgotten part of me recognized their presence, making the feeling bittersweet, yet strangely comforting. This time, it was the complete opposite. What I felt was dark. Bleak. Murky.

It was like walking barefoot into a pool of mud that grew deeper with every step, slowly dragging me toward a shapeless, silent, seemingly endless darkness. An oppressive sensation that crept beneath my skin and made even my soul tremble with a quiet instinct of warning.

If you want the truth, it was profoundly disturbing. Well, if there was one thing I'd learned ever since the moment I awakened as an anomaly and had one of my arms devoured by a terrifying mutant dog, it was that my instincts were rarely just instincts. Most of the time, they were warnings.

And right now, everything inside me was screaming that those storm clouds would end up being the least of our problems. I kept staring at the gray horizon, where heavy clouds blanketed almost the entire sky.

It still wasn't raining, but it felt like it would only take a single moment before the storm finally broke. Even so, it wasn't the rain that unsettled me. It was that nagging, almost suffocating feeling that something far worse was closing in.

Lost in my thoughts, it took me a few seconds to notice someone approaching. The footsteps were light, careful, almost silent. Even so, after spending an entire week side by side, I could recognize that presence even with my eyes closed. I didn't have to turn around.

Before the person could say anything, the words slipped out of my mouth on their own. My voice didn't exactly carry through the air. Instead, it traveled through the strange connection that existed between us, reaching its destination without making a sound: "I take it your parents didn't exactly take the news well..." I said calmly, never taking my eyes off the sky.

Without saying a word, Charlotte walked over and sat down beside me on the ledge. For a few moments, neither of us spoke. Her gaze followed mine, drifting toward the overcast sky that stretched across the horizon, heavy enough to promise rain at any second without letting a single drop fall.

She was wearing a simple shirt beneath her jacket, comfortable pants that let her move freely, and a pair of sneakers that had clearly seen better days. A baseball cap rested on her head with the brim facing forward, while the opening in the back let her ponytail slip through, swaying gently in the breeze.

Just like me, Charlotte started swinging her legs back and forth in a slow, absentminded rhythm. It was the kind of unconscious movement people made when they were lost in their own thoughts... though I wasn't really in any position to judge, considering I was doing the exact same thing.

The silence lingered for a few more seconds before Charlotte finally broke it: "So..." she murmured without looking away from the sky. Then she slowly turned toward me, a subtle, slightly teasing smile appearing on her lips: "What gave me away?"

I raised an eyebrow, pretending not to understand: "Gave you away?"

Her smile widened just a little: "Yeah. What tipped you off?" She tilted her head slightly, genuine curiosity shining through, though she also looked like she was enjoying herself: "I seriously hope it wasn't the way I was looking at you..." she joked, letting out a quiet snort.

I blinked a few times at Charlotte's words before glancing toward my little sister's human parents. They were standing several yards away, completely focused on our conversation. Just moments ago, their eyes had rested on Charlotte with unmistakable affection. But every time they looked at me.

There was caution. Hesitation. The kind of quiet vigilance any parent would have when watching their child play with a big, intimidating-looking dog they found wandering down the street... Hold on. In that comparison... Was I the scary dog? I had no idea why, but that realization hit me on a strangely personal level. My shoulders even seemed to slump a little.

Without thinking, I simply said what was on my mind: "Yeah... those definitely aren't friendly looks"

Charlotte let out a quiet laugh, reaching over to pat my shoulder as she shook her head: "You know..." she said, smiling: "I think they're looking at me like I'm some little girl who found this huge, scary dog on the side of the road" She paused for a second, glancing at her parents out of the corner of her eye before looking back at me with another grin: "And because I kept insisting, they finally gave in and let me keep him"

I tilted my head slightly before discreetly pointing at myself: "So... I'm the dog?"

Charlotte tried to answer, but laughter escaped her first. She covered her mouth for a moment, clearly amused, before nodding without the slightest hint of guilt: "Well... from an outside perspective..."

She looked me up and down with exaggerated scrutiny, as though she were genuinely evaluating the comparison: "Yeah... I think you are"

I let out a long, defeated sigh: "That was surprisingly cruel"

"Oh, come on" Charlotte lightly bumped my shoulder, still laughing: "You might look intimidating, but I know you're a lot gentler than you seem"

I glanced at her parents again. They were still watching us with that same mixture of concern and suspicion: "Too bad they haven't figured that out yet"

Charlotte smiled reassuringly: "They will. They just need a little time. Besides..." she said with a playful shrug: "even scary dogs deserve a chance to prove they don't bite"

I shook my head in resignation: "I can't believe I actually accepted being compared to a dog"

Charlotte blinked at my words, clearly taking a moment to process them. Her gaze drifted back to the cloudy sky, as though she might find an answer hidden among the clouds, and another brief silence settled between us. It wasn't uncomfortable. It was simply one of those moments when neither of us felt the need to fill the quiet.

After a few seconds, the corner of her mouth curled into a small smile: "That was... oddly specific"

A soft breath escaped through my nose, almost a laugh, and I simply nodded. It was specific because that was exactly how I felt. There wasn't much else to say. Still... Maybe this trip would turn out to be an opportunity.

An opportunity to convince her parents that I really was a responsible older brother. Someone they could trust to look after their daughter... Or, at the very least, make a good first impression. I figured there was no harm in letting myself be a little optimistic. After all, dreaming didn't cost anything.

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