When she opened her eyes again, Laura was enveloped by absolute darkness, so dense it seemed to swallow every trace of light. It took just a moment for her to realize she was sitting on something unusual.
Instinctively, her hand slid down to touch the "ground" beneath her, sending a curious shiver through her body: it was soft and fluffy, like she was resting on a cloud—or a massive piece of cotton candy, with that velvety texture that almost invited her to sink her fingers in.
But the thought quickly faded from Laura's mind. She then started carefully scanning her surroundings, but no matter where she looked, all she found was a thick blanket of darkness that seemed to swallow any hint of light. A strange silence hung in the air, almost oppressive. Instinctively, she let out a quiet question, almost as if afraid to break the silence: "Where... is this?"
For a moment, Laura blinked, confused. She clearly felt her voice vibrate in her throat, but it was like, for a brief second, something had tried to hold it back—a subtle, almost imperceptible resistance. Only after a few moments did she notice another detail: she felt neither cold nor heat.
It was a strange thermal neutrality, as if the very air around her was suspended, indifferent to any temperature. The sensation wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it caused a silent unease in her mind, hard to put into words. It was just... weird, like the world had lost one of its most basic contrasts.
There was no answer to Laura's words—and deep down, she hadn't really expected one. Her eyes, which had been wandering the surroundings, finally settled on a figure lying a few meters away.
Cautiously, she stood up, feeling a strange softness under her feet, almost ethereal, like walking on clouds... though she had no idea what that would really feel like.
"Boss!" Laura shouted, quickening her steps as she approached Emily, her voice filled with urgency.
Laura's first reaction upon seeing Emily lying on the ground was to kneel beside her and check her vital signs. Her heart raced for a moment, but then she let out a relieved sigh upon confirming that, despite being still and breathing slowly, Emily seemed okay—just unconscious.
Straightening up, Laura scanned the area again, alert for any movement. Not that there was much she could do right now... but standing still wasn't an option.
Then, in the middle of the tense moment, Emily let out a low, muffled sound—enough to catch Laura's attention. Instantly, she turned to her friend, eyes wide with concern: "Boss! Are you okay?" she asked, voice urgent.
Still with a cloudy gaze and slow movements, Emily raised her torso, supporting herself with effort. Her hand instinctively went to her head, as if trying to shake off the dizziness wrapping around her. Moments later, like Laura, she started examining the surroundings.
And just like her, she came face to face with the same unsettling sight: a horizon swallowed by an absolute cloak of darkness, formless, endless. Emily furrowed her brow, voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of nervousness: "Where the hell is this? Are we... in hell?"
Hearing Emily's words, her boss, a chill ran down Laura's spine. Her heart sped up and she took a step back, eyes slightly wide. Then, in a trembling and clearly scared voice, she whispered: "Boss, don't scare me like that... Clearly, we're not in hell..."
After the sentence, Laura raised an eyebrow, casting a careful look around as if trying to confirm her own words. Her expression lost some confidence and, with a more hesitant tone, she added: "At least... I hope not"
Though Laura's words sounded convincing, even she seemed to carry a faint shadow of doubt in her eyes. In the end, Emily and Laura stood up, scanning the area with their eyes, hoping to find some way out—or at least any clue revealing exactly where they were.
Then Emily, squinting slightly, noticed something in the distance—a distinct point in the silent landscape. Laura soon saw the same thing her companion had. Without many words, both began walking, determined, toward that mysterious spot.
When they arrived, Laura and Emily paused for a few moments, letting their gaze wander the surroundings. But their attention soon fixed on what lay just ahead. Then, with a voice heavy with uncertainty, Laura murmured: "Is everyone... okay?"
In a few words, all the visitors were alive and well, without a single scratch. Like Laura and Emily, they seemed completely lost about where they were. Their eyes wandered anxiously, as if desperately trying to find something familiar in this unknown place.
Laura and Emily exchanged looks for a few moments, eyes full of confusion and uncertainty, unable to fully grasp what was happening. Before they could speak, everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to a nearby point where a small whirlwind of shadows began forming, silently spinning as if sucking in the very light around it.
Then, with an almost imperceptible sigh, the whirlwind dissolved, revealing a figure that looked childlike—fragile at first glance—but constantly radiated a divine aura. Not a comforting divine, but a cold, solemn one, like a reaper calmly watching souls pass by.
As it revealed itself, the figure wore a melancholy expression, as if carrying distant memories. Its eyes briefly scanned the surroundings, taking in every detail, then with a voice indifferent—almost emotionless—murmured: "Everyone seems... okay"
Its voice carried no hint of emotion. Still, those few words were enough for most there to understand an undeniable truth: something extreme had happened. And, if not for the intervention of that being, everyone in that place would be dead—right at that moment.
Ignoring the fixed stares on it, the being continued speaking. This time, however, its voice held a subtle warmth—or rather, a spark of emotion—something that, at first glance, seemed impossible for that particular creature. There was a brief, almost hesitant pause before it murmured: "Do you think my sister... will praise me for this?... I hope so"
***
(POV – Protagonist)
Suddenly, the world simply ceased to exist. There was no ground beneath my feet, no sky above my head, not even a single sound to break the suffocating silence. There was only an absolute white void, so intense it seemed to have its own weight, as if it could crush.
For a moment, I couldn't tell if I still had a body or if I'd become just a fragment of consciousness, drifting aimlessly in that endless nothingness. Then something broke the stillness—not a sound, but a palpable, almost physical pressure.
A wave appeared at the center of the void, rippling as if the very darkness had come to life, expanding in all directions, dragging everything in its path. But this time, it didn't take me. On the contrary: it crashed into me with a muffled force and seeped in, like water being sucked into parched sand under the sun, leaving a deep cold that spread through my whole body.
What should have been an explosion—the same force that, in another era, would incinerate the world and reduce all living beings to ashes over bones—simply stopped before me. There was no sound of a shield being raised, no glow of a magic barrier forming; it just halted, as if the very air around me had decided not to let it touch me.
The sphere above my head, still spinning, suddenly sped up, as if it had finally found its true purpose. The colors, once scattered and chaotic, contracted into a single radiant beam that shot down on me like an inevitable lightning bolt.
I felt every hue pierce my skin, burning and penetrating beyond bones and muscles—reaching a place so deep it seemed to touch the immutable essence of who I was. It was as if they were being etched, one by one, into the very fabric of my existence.
Then, out of absolute nothingness, I felt my body reassemble at a dizzying pace—first came the eyes, followed by the head, before the reconstruction moved on to the rest of me.
When my vision finally formed completely, I was surrounded by an impossible spectacle: the void before me, the pulsing heat around, even the tiny particles scattered by the anomaly—all glowed with an outline that hadn't existed before.
It was like the very essence of things was revealing itself, like I could see the intimate structure of each fragment, break it down and recreate it at will, with nothing but a thought.
The remnants of the explosion still writhed, trying to escape—like a hurricane trapped inside a tiny bottle, swirling with silent fury. But now, with each attempt, I sucked it inside me, consuming it completely. The heat, once sharp and unbearable, stopped burning; it turned into a raw, wild fuel running through my veins like a river of magma erupting, ready to overflow.
And then, everything collapsed at once. The white void shattered like glass, revealing again the distorted landscape around me. The flames on the horizon snapped out, as if they'd never existed; the smoke dissipated without a trace of smell, and the air, once still and suffocating, flowed again, caressing my skin. Only then did I realize: I was standing—whole.
I wasn't fully sure what had just happened. From my perspective, it was like my mind had blanked out for a brief moment, only to suddenly regain consciousness. And, the very instant I came back to myself, the sphere suspended above my head quietly and brilliantly finished absorbing.
At the same time, behind me, Victor let out a muffled curse—like he was caught between the urge to be afraid and the need to be amazed by what he saw. His voice carried a mix of disbelief and hesitation as he murmured, almost to himself, but loud enough for me to hear: "Am I still alive?"
His eyes, wide and trembling, showed genuine confusion, like he was trying to decipher something impossible. Like me, I'm sure he witnessed the white light expand until it swallowed every corner of the place, making it impossible to tell any shape or shadow apart.
Althea, on the other hand, showed no change in her expression; her face remained exactly as always, serene and unshakable. "Fufufu... as expected from my dear sister" she said, her voice filled with a confidence almost playful, as if my success was not just likely but inevitable.
But, to be honest, I didn't share her confidence. For a fleeting moment, I was absolutely sure I'd been completely disintegrated. The strangest thing was the total absence of pain—as if my body had ceased to exist, but my mind stayed intact. Even reduced to nothing, I kept living. Something deep, primal, and immensely powerful inside me clung to life, holding my consciousness steady in the void.
For now, I decided to ignore it all. My eyes turned to my own hands. At first glance, nothing had changed: they were still small, delicate, almost cute like a pudding. But inside, it was a different story. I was overflowing with energy, feeling every fiber of my body pulse with that vibrant force—the same that had emanated from the anomaly moments before.
It was like a silent electric current running through my veins, ready to be unleashed. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that a single thought would trigger this energy in an irresistible wave. Of course, I had no intention of testing this power right now. If I did it carelessly, everyone around me would probably be reduced to ashes in seconds.
Remembering the explanations Emily, Laura, Victor, and Rupert gave me about this anomaly, it was obvious that, at this moment, I was capable of releasing thermonuclear pulses directly from my body. Just the notion made me realize how absurd my new condition was—right now, I was a kind of living nuclear plant, with enough energy to wipe out everything in my path.