Anomaly

While I watched dozens of windy tentacles rising one by one into the sky, my mind was firing off in a thousand different directions. Possible solutions appeared and vanished before I could even process them.
Rationally, I knew it would be impossible to stop that many tentacles at once and still keep everyone in the vehicle safe... damn it. If I had even the slightest idea things would escalate this far, I never would’ve made those embarrassing promises with so much confidence.
And even though Victor had mentioned that plan B was to jump into the water if things really went out of control, it was almost certain they would all end up crushed by the violent waves. Unfortunately, the chaos above didn’t give me time to put together any solid strategy.
Like sharp blades, the tentacles began crashing down toward us. My Alter Ego reacted instantly, launching dozens of its own tentacles to intercept the windy arms of the anomaly thrashing above the clouds.
The tentacles tangled in the sky, forming a mess of dark, smoking limbs and wind-whipped appendages. But it wouldn’t last. No matter how solid it looked, my Alter Ego depended entirely on my endurance to stay active.
Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but right now... an absurd number of tentacles were hurling themselves at the windy appendages of the anomaly.
The strain in my mind increased by the second. I’d be able to maintain the connection for only three more minutes before I started losing control. And once that happened, the smokey tentacles would become unstable.
I considered using one of the anomalous abilities I’d recently obtained—the same one I used to return to Earth during the recent Chronas incident. But the chances of something going wrong were far higher than the chances of success.
The power itself worked like a sort of massive thermonuclear blast—it was nearly impossible to redirect its energy to a precise point. At least for now, I didn’t have enough confidence to try. In space, the situation had been different because, well... I was in space.
Putting my rambling aside, I decided to share the current situation with Victor, Rupert, and Arthur. Since it was telepathic, I didn’t need to be near them to communicate: (Hey, Victor, Arthur, Rupert... things are getting pretty complicated up here. Have you thought of anything yet? I don’t know how much longer I can hold this anomaly back)
A few seconds passed with no answer. I started wondering if something had gone wrong and prepared to return to the vehicle when, suddenly, Victor’s voice echoed in my mind: (Can you hear me?) he asked, uncertainty clear in his tone.
(I hope I’m not talking to myself... it’s weird talking when the person I’m talking to isn’t physically here) Victor added, and I could almost feel his discomfort.
The next voice to echo in my head was Rupert’s, sounding slightly urgent: (Hey,
, can you hear me?)
Finally, Arthur spoke, his voice resonating firmly and clearly in my mind: (I hear you, loud and clear)
(I can hear you, but that’s not the point right now. Did you guys hear what I said a few seconds ago?) I asked, my voice sounding indifferent, though inside I was pretty anxious.
(Yeah, I heard you... and from what I can see, our situation back here in the open area is not good at all. You think you can hold that thing off any longer?) Victor asked, his voice echoing directly in my head, loaded with seriousness and a hint of tension.
(Only for three more minutes... two, actually) I muttered, feeling the connection with my Alter Ego weakening by the moment, slipping through my fingers: (After that... we’re going to be attacked by the tentacles. If it were just you, Arthur, and Rupert, I could protect you while fighting. But... I don’t know if I can do that with this many people at once) My voice sounded indifferent as always, but inside, the worry gnawed at me more than I cared to admit.
Silence followed on the other end for a few moments. I imagined they were weighing their next moves... maybe considering leaving the others behind? I doubted any of them would even think of that. And besides... I really didn’t want to let them die—not after everything I’d promised with so much conviction.
(I’ll see what I can do on my end... but just in case, check if there’s anyone here who can’t swim) I said, my voice coming out less steady than I wanted.
I expected Victor, Rupert, or Arthur to offer some clever countermeasure—something that at least hinted at strategy—but it was clear none existed. Still, they each responded right away.
(Alright, I’ll get everyone in position. I don’t think there’s anyone here who can’t swim—after all, it’s one of the basic requirements for this job) Victor said.
(Right) Rupert replied, short and blunt as always.
(This isn’t exactly how I pictured my ocean vacation...) Arthur said, and for some reason, I could clearly picture his ironic smile: (But at this point, complaining won’t help)
Turning my attention back to the real problem, I began evaluating my options one by one. I had about a minute and a half left before my Alter Ego lost all stability—and when that happened, dozens, maybe hundreds, of windy tentacles would rain down on me without warning.
And on top of that, somehow, I still needed to find a way to protect everyone while fighting that monstrous anomaly.
I paused for a few seconds and arrived at a single conclusion, taking my current situation into account. The moment I started considering explaining to Victor what I was going to do, I felt a faint ripple run through me—more precisely, radiating from my Alter Ego.
Our connection flickered for a brief moment—just an instant—but it was enough for the windy tentacles thrashing above us to slip free from my own smoke-like tentacles that had been holding them in place.
The tentacles dropped at high speed, falling so fast I didn’t even have time to react. All I managed to do was trigger my golden field, which, luckily, expanded just in time and wrapped around the vehicle in a protective glow.
When I finally opened my eyes again, I felt my heart race—even though I don’t actually have one. One of the tentacles hovered only a few inches from my face, so close that for a moment I could’ve sworn it brushed against my eye.
I pulled back and quickly scanned the surroundings. Dozens of them writhed threateningly, just inches away from slamming into the vehicle.
If I had used my anomalous ability a few seconds later, both I and everyone else inside the cabin would’ve likely been impaled. In my case, the pain would’ve been minimal—barely noticeable—but for the others, it would’ve been a terrible fate.
I took a deep breath, letting my mind organize the next step. The anomaly’s tentacles were still whipping toward me, relentless; however, the moment they crossed the boundary of my golden field, they froze midair, as if time simply failed to reach that space.
I have no idea what that looks like from the anomaly’s perspective—maybe, to it, I haven’t moved at all yet. Either way, my plan was simple. Simple enough to work.
From the shadowy circle forming beneath my feet, dark ribbons began to slip outward, gliding across the floor toward Victor, Rupert, and Arthur. One by one, they coiled around them, lifting them up firmly but without force.
The same happened to the reaction team members and, of course, the vehicle’s pilots—no one was left outside the reach of those smoky dark ribbons. Still, I knew that the moment I dropped my golden field, we’d be attacked from every direction.
And as long as I stayed inside that golden circle, trying to contact Emily or Laura for Tenebrya’s exact coordinates was completely out of the question.
Even if I could move normally inside it, anything that didn’t come directly from me didn’t share that property—everything else would be affected by the extremely slowed time flow within the circle.
Messages, signals, even sound... all of it would remain stuck, distorted, or practically frozen. And without at least one reliable external reference, finding Tenebrya was close to impossible.
Anyway, putting my wandering thoughts aside, I walked to the edge of the vehicle and cast a quick look at the ocean below. The water was restless, churned up by waves coming from different directions and crashing nonstop.
A human would probably come out seriously injured in a situation like that—cuts, bruises, maybe even some broken bones. I, however, had no bones, nor did I feel pain. To me, it was little more than a nonexistent inconvenience.
The real problem was something else: there was no guarantee those tentacles wouldn’t follow me even if I jumped into the water. In fact... although it’s a little late to admit this, I never considered myself a great swimmer. At best, I’m decent—and definitely unable to outrun anything down there.
I considered—and reconsidered—my other options countless times. The truth is, I was hesitant to actually jump, but honestly, what other choice did I have? It’s not like I could just stay inside my golden circle forever.
Besides, judging by the looks on Victor’s, Arthur’s, and Rupert’s faces, as well as the others on the team, it was obvious that my barrier hit them at the exact moment those windy tentacles were about to reach us... maybe just a few seconds earlier, at best.
Anyway, back to the current problem: I decided to jump. Like I said, I really had no other option. I took a deep breath—though technically, I don’t even have lungs. But, as I said, it’s a psychological thing.
I cast one last glance behind me, toward the tentacles frozen in time, just like us. Even motionless, more and more of them kept appearing, as if they were sprouting from the air itself.
Without hesitation, I threw myself toward the open sea. As I spun during the fall, I saw Victor, Rupert, and Arthur—along with the rest of the reaction team—screaming in desperation, each of them trying to warn us or maybe just venting their panic.
That was when the windy tentacles sensed our movement. Like prey alerting a predator, they began chasing us, ripping through the air behind us.
The dark, heavy sky looked like it was collapsing, and the colossal anomaly floating above the clouds cast an oppressive glow over everything. I was plummeting toward the open sea—and something inside me insisted that whatever awaited me down there wasn’t much better than what lingered on the surface.