Anomaly

With the wind slicing across my face and making my hair sway gently, I walked to the edge of the building, feeling the subtle pressure of the air against my skin. My eyes drifted down to the streets below.
I blinked slowly, squinting to see more clearly through the haze of smoke and dust hanging in the air. Dozens of wrecked cars were scattered across the avenues—some still smoldering.
Grotesque creatures roamed among the wreckage—black-scaled lizards, praying mantises the size of buses, and other anomalies whose shapes defied any biological logic. I looked up.
Right ahead was another building, a little shorter and not too far from ours. The distance was too great for a regular jump—but not for me. With help from the patch of mist drifting off my Alter Ego, I could reach the other side easily. And of course, Arthur and Victor would come along.
I blinked slowly, eyes locked on the building in front of me. The cold wind brushed my face, but my attention was entirely absorbed by the structure looming ahead.
For a moment, my mind emptied itself of everything—except for one thought that surfaced out of nowhere, like a bold whisper from the back of my consciousness: (Let’s jump!)
Victor and Arthur, standing beside me, suddenly shuddered. Their bodies trembled almost in sync, as if a ghostly chill had crawled down their spines. The next moment, they both slowly turned their faces toward me, their eyes empty and unsettling.
That unexpected reaction threw me off for a moment, but I chose to ignore it. I shook the doubt from my head and got ready to jump. Not that I was really worried about them. I knew they’d be dragged along by the shadowy rope of mist that kept them tethered to me.
“Wait!” Victor blurted out, stepping forward, his voice laced with confusion: “Didn’t you just say that...”
I could tell by the tension in his eyes that he was about to say something—and from the urgent glint in them, it seemed important. But his words vanished into the air, silenced at the exact moment I leapt forward, cutting off any chance for a response.
It was a simple move—almost instinctive. My feet, wrapped in the mist I had been building up, gave a faint tremble before launching with force, like an invisible rubber band snapping.
In the blink of an eye, my body was propelled upward at an incredible speed, and within seconds I was soaring through the air, suspended between sky and ground.
The wind now blew far stronger than before. My hair whipped wildly around me as gravity finally kicked in—and in just a few seconds, all three of us were plunging in free fall.
As usual, I kept a blank expression on my face, even while dropping toward the ground. Victor and Arthur, right behind me, didn’t hide their panic; their faces twisted in pure horror. Just before my feet hit the rooftop, a dark mist surged around them again, gently wrapping us and absorbing all the impact.
If not for it, my feet would’ve shattered on contact with the roof—after all, given the height and the fact that my body is as soft as gelatin, the natural outcome would’ve been complete destruction of bones I don’t even have.
As soon as we landed, I quickly scanned the area to make sure it was safe. Then I turned around, looking for Arthur and Victor. But what I saw left me a bit confused.
Instead of their usual expressions, both of them looked completely drained—faces pale, eyes glassy, like they’d just surfaced from deep underwater. They looked like fish out of water, gasping, stunned. I blinked, puzzled, staring at them for a few seconds, trying to figure out what could’ve caused their current state.
“Haah... for a second there, I really thought I was gonna have a heart attack” Victor muttered, still out of breath. One hand clutched his chest, right where his heart was.
Arthur, on the other hand, was holding it together better than Victor—but he still didn’t look great. He was slightly hunched, one hand resting on his knee like he was fighting off a wave of nausea.
A forced, ironic smile twisted on his face—more of a failed attempt to mask how awful he felt than a genuine sign of control. His eyes scanned the scene with thinly veiled contempt, like everything around us was part of some poorly staged play.
Arthur crossed his arms slowly, a half-smirk forming at the corner of his lips before he said, with light, sarcastic humor: “Pretty sure I’ve had more action today than in the last twenty years combined...”
In the end, I just ignored them and focused on what actually mattered: the path ahead. We were only a few buildings away from our target, and after a quick assessment, I figured that even with nonstop jumping, we could probably make it safely.
The streets below were pure chaos. Small explosions flared up here and there, followed by sharp cracks of destruction echoing between the buildings.
Anomalies of all shapes and sizes were fighting in a grotesque spectacle—devouring and being devoured, like predators battling over territory.
There was something deeply primal about it all, like nature itself had snapped, torn off its leash, and decided to follow a wild, untamed instinct. The city is completely wrecked.
Though this time, people don’t seem to be dying in droves like in previous events I’ve witnessed, I still wonder how the organization plans to cover all this up.
I mean... it’s hard to imagine something this massive just slipping under the radar. Streets in ruins, buildings reduced to rubble—how are they going to hide that? Then again, that kind of problem isn’t really my concern.
With that thought drifting through my mind, the mist beneath my feet trembled again. With a precise motion, I launched myself upward once more. Arthur and Victor were carried along, lifted by the same force that propelled me.
I repeated this process a few more times—each time I landed on a new rooftop, the mist softened my fall like a pair of invisible hands cradling me. The next instant, it surged again, tossing me back into the air, keeping our momentum going.
Finally, after one last leap, the ruined building we’d been looking for fully emerged into view—dominating my field of vision like a sleeping giant among the rubble.
My feet touched down gently on the rooftop, softening the impact of the landing with ease. I blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the cold breeze blowing up here, and walked over to the edge of the building. From where I stood, the view stretched out through the city lights—but my focus quickly shifted back to the others. Arthur and Victor hadn’t caught up yet.
Victor was practically sprawled out on the ground, arms wide, body limp like every muscle had just given up. Arthur, on the other hand, was sitting against a metal structure, breathing heavily, clearly trying to catch his breath.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the trip had really been that exhausting. I mean, it’s not like I was going that fast—I even tried to keep a balanced pace, you know? While jumping between buildings, I made an effort to factor them in. But in the end, it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. They were both equally wiped out.
Still, my attention shifted to the building ahead of me. Even though the rooftop was completely destroyed, the structure itself still held on stubbornly, like it was refusing to collapse entirely. Now that I was close enough, I noticed something odd among the debris: the flower was still there. Untouched.
The whole scene felt surreal—like none of the rubble had even grazed it. The flower stood completely still, serene, almost like it existed outside the chaos surrounding it. Of course, it’s not like I had seen what happened the moment the serpents struck the building. At that time, I was a little too busy trying not to get eaten.
In the end, I stayed there on the rooftop, silent, staring at the solitary flower in front of me. My gaze was its usual detached self—cold and distant—or at least, it tried to be. But as I drew closer, a strange feeling started to take hold of me.
It was like something buried deep in my memory was trying to surface. I had no idea what it could be, but with each step, the feeling grew stronger... more real. I didn’t know what I was about to remember, but something inside me screamed that it mattered.
Honestly, I was curious. Even though I still had memories from my past life as a human, they came in fragments—incomplete, like scattered flashes of who I once was, but that now felt like they belonged to someone else entirely.
What remained were just the basics, vague impressions I couldn’t fully trust. In fact, they were so generic that sometimes I wondered if I had made them all up and just forgotten that I did... though, of course, I didn’t really believe that.
As I stood there, mesmerized by the sight of the giant flower still absorbing the drifting particles in the air, Victor and Arthur quietly approached. I could feel Victor’s eyes on me, and when I turned to meet his gaze, his expression was unreadable—a mix of awe, discomfort, and a touch of sarcasm.
With a quick sigh, he finally broke the silence: “Setting aside your... unconventional mode of travel” he said, shooting a glance at the massive flower sprouting from the building ahead.
His face tightened a bit as he took in the surreal sight, and he added, shaking his head slightly: “Seriously... what the hell is that giant flower? The world’s getting crazier by the day”
Even as I heard Victor’s words, there didn’t seem to be anything I could say to ease his mind. No words felt right, no matter how hard I tried. I mean... I haven’t even been an anomaly for that long. I’m still trying to understand what that really means—who I am now, what I’ve become.
And this world... from my perspective, it feels like a parallel reality to the one I came from—a sort of alternate version where certain events went down very differently, especially when it comes to anomalies.
I thought about that for a few seconds, trying to piece it all together, but eventually shoved the thought to the back of my mind. It was just too much to process right now.
As I drifted deeper into my thoughts, Arthur broke the silence with a curious remark: “Crazy how that flower’s still intact, even after half the building came down on it... Although, being an anomalous flower, I guess I can’t say I’m really surprised”
A strange feeling crept over me then, pulling my gaze instinctively to the left. Arthur and Victor, still focused on the flower ahead, didn’t notice me move. A few seconds passed in silence—then something appeared in the sky.
A small bird began gliding toward us, flying smoothly like it was floating on air. Its silhouette was nearly pitch-black, cloaked in a thick mist that replaced any normal feathers—as if its body were made of living smoke. The creature moved with a silent grace, almost ghostly.
But what really stood out were its eyes: two glowing scarlet points, like lit rubies in the dark, locking onto me with a presence that couldn’t be ignored.
Moments later, the bird flew toward me and landed softly on my shoulder. I blinked, confused, trying to make sense of what was happening. I watched it for a moment—its feathers shimmered subtly in the light, and those red eyes seemed to study me with a quiet intelligence.
Noticing my gaze, the bird tilted its head and locked eyes with me, as if trying to say something without words. We stood there, staring at each other in silence, until suddenly, its body began to dissolve into a thick, pulsing mist.
The mist didn’t fade. On the contrary—it grew, spreading in front of me, swelling in size until it matched my own. And then, as if emerging directly from the living fog, my Alter Ego took shape—materializing slowly, like a shadow revealed by the smoke, staring straight at me.
I wasn’t exactly surprised by this—I already knew the bird was my Alter Ego. Honestly, its presence probably explains why this place lacks those Earth-like animal anomalies—lizards, spiders, and other creepy crawlies.
And honestly, I hate spiders. Just thinking about one—with all those spindly legs moving in perfect sync, those dark, beady eyes staring back at me, and that creepy hair covering its body—but the size of a dog... or bigger—makes my whole body tense up. It’s like every muscle goes on high alert, begging me to run.
But setting that aside, I can’t say for sure whether he actually killed them. It’s more likely he just scared them off—drove them all away from the building with the flower. Maybe... to protect it.
That thought made me glance at my Alter Ego, still standing beside me. His eyes stayed locked on the flower, like he was under its spell. His face, like mine, was neutral.
Yet even with his expression impossible to read, our deep connection let me sense what he was really feeling. It was a storm of emotion—intense, chaotic, far too many to put into simple words.
And still, in the middle of all that silent emotional noise, one feeling stood out clearly—like a faint light in the dark: longing. It came from him, from my Alter Ego, pulsing gently but unmistakably.