After hearing Victor tell me what had happened to his sister, my mind was consumed by a storm of conspiracy theories and dark possibilities. One by one, I began to mentally build a list of potential culprits, cross-checking every detail Victor had described about the entity responsible for leaving her in that state.
But no matter how hard I tried, none of the suspects fit in a satisfying way — it was like trying to complete a puzzle with pieces from different boxes. For some reason, an odd feeling kept nagging at me, like there was something out of place, something that simply didn't fit into the bigger picture.
That uneasiness ate away at me, but in the end, what good would it do to keep dwelling on it? Thinking about it over and over wouldn't change a thing. Maybe it would be better to turn that doubt into action — go to the place, see it with my own eyes, feel the atmosphere. At least, that's the conclusion I came to after taking a deep breath and trying to calm the storm raging in my head.
I stayed quiet for a few moments, trying to put my thoughts in order. Beside me, Victor didn't move, his expression serious, his fingers intertwined with his sister's as if the simple touch could protect her from everything. I drew in a long breath, feeling the weight of the decision I was about to make.
Finally, I broke the silence, sending my thoughts straight to Victor, my mental voice filled with urgency: (Take me to that park!)
The moment my words reached Victor's ears, his eyebrows arched ever so slightly — a small sign of surprise, or maybe reflection. Slowly, he turned his face toward me. Under the weight of his gaze, I stood firm, meeting his eyes without hesitation.
Inside, I wasn't nearly as sure of myself as I looked, but my face kept its usual mask of indifference, as though none of this really affected me. We stayed like that for a few seconds — just the two of us, in a silence that felt heavier than the air around us — until Victor sighed, breaking the tension. Without saying anything, he looked away from me and back to his bedridden sister.
The room sank into an almost suffocating quiet, as if even the air itself were waiting for the conversation to continue. I stayed still, just waiting for Victor's words — and they came soon enough.
"Why?" he asked, his voice full of raw confusion but carrying a glimmer of hope: "Why would you help me? You don't even know her... you don't even know me. I can't see a reason for this. You're an anomaly — I'm just a human. Wouldn't it be more 'normal' for you to be trying to kill me or... I don't know, something like that?"
Victor's words made my mind spin. Confused, I caught myself thinking — why the hell does this matter so much to him? I'm trying to save his sister. Isn't that what should matter? But then, after thinking about it for a moment, I realized that from his perspective, all of this probably looked... suspicious.
For a human, seeing an anomaly risk their life to protect someone from another species isn't exactly common. And, honestly, when you look at it logically, it does sound strange. Strangely enough, though, that logic makes sense when you look at the situation through his eyes.
But the moment that thought crossed my mind, another followed right behind it, like a whispering shadow: (When you think about it... can anomalies even be considered a "species?" I mean, I can't imagine how something so unpredictable and irregular could be put into such a defined category. Isn't that like trying to stuff chaos into a box and label it?)
Either way, I decided to answer Victor's question. I still had no idea what to say — my mind felt blank, every thought vanishing as soon as it appeared. So, I just let the first thing that popped into my head slip out: (Because we're friends?) The question even sounded strange to me, heavy with uncertainty. In Victor's mind, though, it must have echoed more like a doubt than a statement — almost as if I were asking him to confirm it.
I mean, I really do consider Victor a friend... but does he feel the same way about me? Lately, I'm not so sure. Still, even without knowing his sister, would it really be wrong to try to help her? In the end, it's not like I had anything better to do — and maybe, in a way, this is a chance to prove that our friendship still means something to me.
After sharing my thoughts with Victor, I stayed quiet, just watching him. What would he do? I didn't know for sure, but I chose to wait at his side. His face was tense, his eyes fixed on the hand he was gripping — his sister's hand.
His fingers were tight, almost white, as if he were holding onto her to keep from losing himself. For a moment, Victor's face was nothing but tension — until, suddenly, his shoulders relaxed and the hard expression melted away.
He slowly closed his eyes, like someone finally finding an answer after fighting against their own heart. Maybe he was gathering his thoughts, or maybe just courage. Either way, his words came next, carrying a strange calm that contrasted with the silence around us.
"All right" Victor said, opening his eyes slowly, as if waking from a long, deep thought. He turned his face toward me, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to go completely still.
Our eyes locked, unwavering, and there was something vulnerable in his gaze, as though he were about to take a step into the dark. Finally, he took a deep breath and finished, his voice low but steady: "I... I'm going to trust you"
The next moment, to my complete surprise, Victor bowed before me, lowering his head until his forehead nearly touched my knees. The gesture was so unexpected that, for a brief second, I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.
On the outside, I kept my usual calm expression, watching him silently as if nothing had happened — but inside, I was stunned. Then, his voice broke the silence, filled with urgency and desperation: "Please... save my sister"
Seeing that scene, my thoughts tangled up so badly that I felt like my mind locked up. Before I even realized what I was doing, my hand was already resting on Victor's head. The next instant, our eyes met — both of us full of disbelief, as if neither of us really understood what had just happened.
Instinctively, I pulled my hand back, startled on the inside, but something about Victor reminded me of my sisters—the fragile way he carried himself, the weary look on his face—and before I knew it, my hand was back, gently running through his hair. The gesture was almost automatic, as if my hands wanted to comfort him just as much as they were comforting me.
Even though I looked indifferent on the outside, something was stirring inside me. It was a suffocating feeling, hard to put into words—like my own skin didn't quite fit. Victor, who had been the main target of everything that had just happened, broke the silence with a short, bitter laugh, almost more of a sigh. It was the kind of laugh that carried no joy, only resignation.
"How pitiful I must look" he muttered, his eyes staring into nothing: "For even an anomaly to feel the need to console me"
After Victor's self-deprecating words, something in him shifted—subtle, but impossible to miss. The heavy melancholy that seemed to cling to him faded, as if swept away, replaced by that relaxed, almost irreverent air I remembered from when we first met.
He cast one last glance at his bedridden sister, his expression loaded with something hard to decipher—maybe guilt, maybe longing—before rising slowly from the chair. The faint creak of the wood echoed in the silent room, and Victor began walking toward the door, his light steps a stark contrast to the weight of the moment.
Just before his fingers touched the doorknob, Victor stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. A small smile tugged at his lips, as if to reassure me: "Come on" he said, his voice calm but steady: "I'll take you to the park"
A moment later, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open, making it creak softly. Before I moved, my eyes flicked back one last time to his sister. She lay there with her eyes closed, her body almost motionless, as though she was caught between wakefulness and sleep. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, hopped lightly off the chair, and took a few quiet steps toward Victor.
Out in the hallway, Victor and I quickly found Laura and Emily waiting for us patiently. Emily was the first to notice us. Her gaze swept over the two of us from head to toe, as if she were assessing something invisible, maybe sensing the subtle shift in the air around us.
A faint, teasing smile appeared at the corner of her lips. "Looks like you two finally managed to work things out" she said, her tone a mix of relief and amusement.
Victor, at my side, let out a heavy sigh at Emily's words: "There was never a "problem" between me and her to begin with" he said, his voice low but carrying a cool firmness.
His eyes shifted toward me, catching my silhouette from the side, as if to gauge my reaction: "My job is to contain or destroy anomalies" he continued without hesitation: "That's what I do. If another anomaly can help me with that... then I'll use them"
Victor's words might have sounded harsh at first—almost dehumanizing—as if he saw me as nothing more than a weapon, a tool to be used against other anomalies. But if you listened carefully, there was something in them that softened that impression.
It wasn't in the words themselves, but in the slight pauses, the measured tone of his voice, the almost respectful way he looked at me. He didn't just see me as a weapon. To Victor, I was something more—a battle companion, someone he trusted to stand with him in the chaos.
Still, despite what I understood from Victor's words, someone else seemed to take them in a completely different way: "Fufufu, glad to hear it!" Laura said with her usual strange little laugh and ever-cheerful voice. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she added: "It's good to see you two are friends again"
The moment Laura said that, Victor, Emily, and I exchanged silent looks. A beat later, both of them sighed almost in unison, as if that alone was enough to express what they felt. As for me, I just shrugged, accepting Laura's words without argument.
In the end, there was nothing more to be done. We headed back the way we had come, down the narrow hallways, past the rooms where the "patients" remained still, their empty gazes fixed somewhere far away. With every door we left behind, a silent weight seemed to press harder on my shoulders.
When we finally reached the elevator, I hesitated for a moment. My feet stopped on their own as I turned to face the long hallway behind us, lined with closed doors—each one hiding someone who would never return to the life they once had. The silence seemed heavier than ever in that moment.
My thoughts? A storm. To be honest, I hadn't even known humans could turn into anomalies—the very idea felt absurd. But if it really was possible, then one question wouldn't leave my head: why?
What reason could an anomaly have to choose something like that? I turned over every possibility in my mind, searching for a thread of logic, but all I found was an uncomfortable emptiness, like the answer was right in front of me but still slipping through my fingers.
At last, Emily, Victor, Laura, and I stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut slowly, and my final glimpse was of the dimly lit hallway, the air heavier than it should have been. There was something morbid about the sight, as if the darkness itself was lurking, waiting. No sound reached my ears—and if there had been any, I'm sure it wouldn't have been pleasant.