Anomaly

I watched the scene closely, keeping a neutral, almost impassive expression. Inside, though, disbelief was eating me alive. Even witnessing everything with my own eyes, I still struggled to accept that what stood before me was actually real.
From the murky, dark surface of the open sea, something began to emerge—or maybe sink, or even twist in on itself, it was impossible to tell for sure. From my aerial view, there was only one thing clear enough to distinguish: a mouth.
A colossal, circular mouth, formed by concentric rings of curved teeth, each row spinning in the opposite direction of the other, as if the ocean hid a living whirlpool made of blades.
The water around it was pulled in and spat out in uneven spirals, frothing as if fighting to free itself from the creature ripping through its surface. I couldn’t see anything resembling eyes, a body, or any definable part of whatever hid beneath the water.
There was only that endless opening — pulsating, throbbing as if it constantly needed to breathe — and somehow, impossibly, it seemed to take up more space than logic should allow.
The sound was even worse: a deep, wet dragging noise, like millions of fangs scraping against each other, spinning in chaotic circles, grinding the silence around us and making the air vibrate.
With each rotation, the whirlpool grew stronger, dragging debris, entire schools of fish, and even small rocks into the anomaly. Nothing could escape its relentless pull. It was as if the monster existed solely to devour — swallow, consume, grind everything it touched, leaving nothing behind.
And the worst part? I had the strong impression that it knew I was there... even without any eyes. It was a hungry, awakened presence that seemed to feel every tiny vibration in the water — every pulse, every thread of movement — and in that exact moment, it had sensed mine.
Both the anomaly response team and Victor, Arthur, and Rupert stared at the scene slack-jawed. Their lips twitched from time to time, as if some word was about to escape, but nothing came out.
In the end, only silence — and disbelief — remained. We weren’t exactly close to the massive mouth that sucked everything in like a whirlpool. Still, there was a persistent current pulling us toward the thing hidden beneath the water.
It wasn't strong enough to be an immediate problem... or at least that’s what I concluded during the single minute I spent analyzing that colossal presence concealed in the liquid darkness.
As my body finished regenerating its last missing parts, I felt something strange. My body began sliding slowly to the side, but I wasn’t moving on my own — something was pulling me.
When my consciousness returned to my aerial vantage point, I could see it clearly: the gigantic mouth of the submerged anomaly was rising again, this time much closer to where we were.
The most disturbing part was that it hadn’t moved at all. This was another mouth, just as colossal as the first, rising from the depths as if it were just another fragment of an unimaginably larger body.
And judging by its position, it didn’t seem to be a second anomaly. In short, what we had seen before didn’t even come close to revealing the true size of that thing. It was just a piece — a detail — of something whose scale defied any understanding.
“Shit! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Rupert shouted, twisting in midair as the shadowy threads held him suspended, winding around him like living serpents.
His bulging eyes stayed fixed on the raging sea below us, where waves frothed against the rocks. The realization of what was about to happen finally hit him — and panic flooded his face.
Though I outwardly appeared indifferent, inside my thoughts lined up exactly with Rupert’s. The sea, which at first only swayed lazily, began twisting until it turned into a violent whirlpool.
I felt my body being pulled with increasing force, second after second, toward the center — toward the anomaly’s throat, or at least what I assumed was its throat.
(... This... definitely isn’t a good sign) That thought flashed through my mind just seconds before my body reacted on its own, driven by a primal survival instinct.
A chill ran up my spine as my legs kicked at the water almost reflexively, forcing me to pull back. Without even thinking twice, I started swimming away, putting as much distance as I could between myself and the center of the whirlpool forming behind me—growing more violent by the second.
The result? The more I tried to swim, the closer the whirlpool seemed to get — or rather, the more I was dragged into it. It made no sense unless, for some absurd reason, I was somehow swimming in the wrong direction, which should’ve been impossible. Simply put, that thing was pulling me with far more strength than I had to push myself away.
(Guys... I think I might have some slightly concerning news) My words echoed straight into their minds, carrying an urgency I hadn’t even meant to convey. Victor, Arthur, and Rupert instantly turned their eyes toward me—alarmed, confused, and maybe even a little skeptical.
I kept talking, even though it was impossible to ignore how absurdly indifferent my own voice sounded, as if I were commenting on the weather rather than the surreal situation I was caught in. My body was being dragged mercilessly by the whirlpool, spinning from side to side as the current pulled me like some disposable toy.
The water roared, splashing into my eyes, and yet inside my head, my voice kept the same casual tone: (I think... yeah, there’s definitely no way I’m swimming against this)
Horrified expressions appeared one after another on the faces of the reaction team members. No one dared to say a single word; they simply watched, frozen, as the vortex expanded and began pulling all of us toward its center.
Beads of sweat ran down their temples, betraying the growing tension, and their hesitant stares made it clear just how anxious they were.
For a moment, a flood of thoughts rushed through my mind—countless ideas for how to deal with the situation, but none that actually seemed capable of solving it.
Then a faint thought surfaced, quiet as a whisper: “If only I could fly...”
There was no deep reflection, no clear intent—just a spontaneous wish slipping out in the heat of the moment, as if my instincts were desperately searching for a way out.
But then, almost as if responding to my own intention, I felt something inside me react. A dense shadow, smoldering like black smoke, began to seep out of my body, spreading along my back and slowly expanding. Within seconds, it wrapped around me completely, covering every inch of my skin like a living, dark membrane.
And then something unexpected happened: my body suddenly felt lighter. It was strange, as though the gravity that once forced me downward was slowly reversing—no longer pulling me down, but lifting me up.
Within seconds, I realized I was actually levitating. The reaction team members, along with Arthur, Rupert, and Victor, soon noticed that they themselves were also beginning to rise. Their expressions shifted into a mix of surprise and confusion.
Victor looked at me, his eyes growing slightly incredulous as he watched me float upward, my body wrapped in a thin, trembling dark membrane that released faint wisps of smoke.
“Since when can you fly?” Victor asked, his voice cutting through the silence and drawing everyone’s attention to me.
Rupert shot me a disbelieving look as well, but when he opened his mouth, his response was aimed at Victor: “Seriously, that’s what surprised you?”
(That’s something I’d also like to know! Since when am I able to fly?) I thought, utterly stunned, as I felt my body rise out of the seawater and gain height, as if gravity had simply decided I no longer existed.
I was just as confused and incredulous as they were. Had my Alter Ego always been able to fly? Thinking about it, considering he’s made mostly of black smoke—or something very close to it—wouldn’t it actually be weirder if he couldn’t?
Just because he’d never shown this ability before doesn’t mean he wasn’t capable of doing it all along. Still, that doesn’t explain all the dangerous situations we’ve survived—situations that would’ve been solved easily if I had just been able to fly from the beginning.
Even though flying was definitely useful, especially right now, it wasn’t as if simply getting out of the water would magically solve our problems. With that in mind, I looked up. Of course. It had to be that. The moment I did, I thought to myself—ironically—that things were indeed getting very difficult.
The wind-like tentacles, which just seconds before had been retreating as if losing interest, froze in place—all of them pointed at us. They seemed to be waiting for some invisible cue, some silent permission. And then, as if that “something” had finally happened... they advanced.
All the tentacles rushed forward simultaneously, lunging at us like black arrows. And just to note—I wasn’t even that high above the ocean yet. Watching dozens of tentacles rise and shoot toward us was both breathtaking and deeply terrifying—the kind of sight that made your stomach drop and your breath catch.
Though, maybe because of everything I’ve been through so far, aside from finding the sight simply incredible, I wasn’t exactly afraid. The same couldn’t be said for everyone else.
“Ah, crap! Crap! Hey, Death Angel, those things are coming again!” Rupert yelled, his voice shaking between panic and adrenaline. He raised his weapon in a hurry, his fingers slipping on the trigger as he fired at the approaching tentacles.
Victor and the rest of the reaction team did the same, opening fire on them. The shots slowed the tentacles for a few moments, but not enough to make any real difference.
There were too many of them, and they were tough—the bullets only tore shallow wounds across their surface, injuries that did nothing to kill them and only stalled them for a few seconds before they surged forward again.
Meanwhile, I was trying to move my body—which, honestly, was a lot harder than I’d expected. Moving through the air had nothing to do with walking on solid ground.
I flailed my arms and legs in every direction, but all I managed to do was create a pathetic, almost comical scene: my body spinning helplessly in midair, like a puppet dangling from an invisible string.