With his ears ringing nonstop from the hellish wind slamming straight into them, Victor was dragged through the air at a ridiculous speed. The rain fell like freezing needles, soaking his hair and plastering his clothes to his body.
But out of everything, the worst part was the trip itself. Even though it was far less intense than before, the speed was still nothing a human could ever consider comfortable. And Victor wasnât the only one who felt that way.
âI... hate... THIIIIIS!â Rupert screamed, just a few inches from Victor. His face was twisted in pure agony, and his voiceâhoarse from effortâcame out dripping with desperation.
The rest of the group wasnât much better. Some kept a cold, stone-like expression, while others looked like they were seconds away from throwing up. Even so, given the circumstances, Victor could barely notice their reactions.
Nausea would pass in a few minutesâand honestly, it was a small price to pay. Anything was better than being torn apart... or suffering some worse fate at the hands of an anomaly.
Still, even without observing for long, Victor could tell that most of them would carry a hefty trauma of high-speed travel for quite a while. He just hoped it wouldnât become a permanent scar.
Raising a hand to his ear, where the small communicator vibrated against his skin, Victor forced his voice out: âRupert... check... the connectionâ
The words stumbled out, squeezed between the deafening roar of the wind and the brutal speed with which they tore through the sky. Even opening his mouth felt like an absurd effort.
After hearing the command, Rupertâstill right beside himâkept grumbling but eventually gave in. He lifted his hand to his ear, fighting against the slicing wind that kept blowing straight at them, making his arm tremble slightly. When his fingertip finally touched the device, Rupert held his breath and stayed silent for a few seconds, listening intently.
Then, with a voice strained by interference and effort, he muttered through the communicator: âThâthe base signal... itâs still... really choppy! Bâbut... compared to earlier... I... I can hear... sâsome voices! Iâif we can... get just a little farther... the signal... should... reârestore... enough for... contact...!â
Rupertâs voice came out shaky and broken, ripped away by the brutal wind. Still, Victor couldnât blame himâbreathing was already hard enough, let alone talking, considering the absurd speed at which they were being dragged across the sky: (Didnât we ask her to slow down? For Godâs sake... what does she think we are? Machines?)
A few more minutes crawled by, soaked in pure adrenaline, with desperate voices swallowed by the wind as they echoed through the air. The roar of the air currents made it nearly impossible to make out any words.
Even so, little by little, the interference started to fade. They finally seemed to have reached a point where the signal stabilized. Rupertâpractically glued to Victor the entire flightâturned toward him.
His coat whipped violently in the wind, and even the simple act of moving his head looked like it took every bit of strength he had left. Still, he managed a nodâa small, tense gesture, but clear enough for Victor to understand instantly.
Gathering every bit of strength left in his body, Victor raised his voice against the slicing wind, praying that the walking jet ahead of them would catch at least the beginning of his words:
Weâre far enough!â
The moment Victorâs words cut through the air, the wind smashing against his face stoppedâabruptly. Before he could even understand what was happening, his body was violently thrown forward, flung like a rag doll.
But despite the sudden impact, he wasnât hurt. Something darkâa twisted shadow, thin like a living ropeâwrapped around him and held him in place.
The deceleration was so gentle that for a moment he doubted what heâd felt. Considering the force of the launch, being intactâand completely uninjuredâwas strange enough to leave him even more stunned. The silence that followed felt heavier than the shock itself.
Ignoring it for a moment, Victor turned to Rupert, who also seemed to be catching his breath after the adrenaline spike. There was still a faint tremor in his shoulders, almost imperceptible.
Noticing Victorâs gaze, Rupert simply noddedâa short gesture, weighed down by exhaustionâbefore bringing a hand to his ear, his fingers still trembling slightly.
Still focused on the row of computers in front of her, Emily swept through every reading in search of even the slightest signâno matter how smallâthat even if they couldnât establish contact from their side, the organizationâs technology might open a channel where the anomalous interference wasnât so strong.
Until then, though, every path seemed blocked. At least until that brief instant. As her eyes ran across the data and charts on the screens, a subtle fluctuation caught her attention.
It was almost imperceptibleâa tiny jump on the graph, too quick for anyone distracted to notice. Emily didnât hesitate. She yanked the chair closer with a sharp movement, sat at one of the terminals, and began typing furiously, as if every keystroke could stop the chance from slipping away again.
Seconds later, a voice cracked through the communicatorâweak, broken, almost impossible to understand. Static devoured half the syllables, but, little by little, it began to take shape, growing clearer:
â... This is Rupert! Anyone at the base on this line?... Repeat: this is Rupert! Is anyone from the base on this channel?â
Voices echoed through the room, growing louder as they overlapped. Hearing them, Laura stepped closer to Emily in silence, her eyes locked on the bright monitor in front of her.
Emily turned her head slightly and shot a quick glance at the scientists. They understood the unspoken order without a single word being said and, almost immediately, began typing frantically.
Laura followed the motion, directing her gaze to the screens filled with data. Without looking away, Emily reached out and handed her a microphone that had been resting under the desk until then. Laura grabbed it firmly.
Emily was the first to react to Rupertâs words. Her voice burst through the comms, loaded with urgency: âThis is Emily, reporting from the base! Rupert, can you hear me?â
Emily waited for a few moments, eyes half-closed as she tracked every fluctuation in the graph displayed on the monitor just above her head. The silence between each beep seemed to stretch time itself.
Then, after a few seconds that felt like minutes, Rupertâs voice finally echoed through the speakers â and in that instant, a massive weight slid off Emilyâs shoulders: âThank God... I managed to reestablish the connection. Weâre all fine. We were attacked by an anomaly, but the
saved all of us. Right now, weâre flying over the oceanâ
Emily and Laura exchanged glances for a few seconds after hearing those words. Emily gave a slight nod, almost imperceptible, which was immediately answered by the confident smile forming on Lauraâs face â the kind of smile that said, âTold youâ.
Typing nonstop, Emily kept her eyes glued to the monitors until a map took shape on the screen, dotted with several red points that pulsed faintly. Even surprised it had worked so fast, she allowed herself only a short exhale before shoving the reaction to the back of her mind.
She spoke again immediately, her hands racing across the keyboard with almost nervous haste: âIâve got your location. Like I said before, I think itâs impossible for you to make it back. Maybe the
can figure something out... but I canât guarantee the rest of you would survive the returnâ
Rupertâs voice echoed back, steady despite the cutting wind and rain: âNo problem. Thatâs exactly why we decided to move forward. The
wants to meet with the Virtue... and hopefully thatâll let us settle everything at once. Besides, itâs not like weâve got many other optionsâ
Emily nodded and returned to typing. As her fingers flew over the keys, the map on the monitor began sliding on its own, zooming in and out until it settled over a red-marked point. She narrowed her eyes, confirmed the position, and then relayed the coordinates to Rupert.
âShit...â Rupert growled, his face twisting in pure frustration: âThe location points exactly to where those things are.â
Curious, Laura â who had remained silent until then â leaned forward slightly before asking, her voice low but attentive: âWhat kind of anomalies, exactly?â
Rupert stayed silent for long moments, his gaze drifting off as if searching for words that simply didnât exist. When he finally spoke, his voice came out hoarse, almost broken: âWe donât know. Weâve never had a full view of those things. All we can make out is that theyâre colossal... and completely impossible to fight. You donât beat them, you donât neutralize them â at best, you can stall them for a few miserable seconds. Honestly, if it werenât for the
clearing a path, weâd all have been wiped off the map alreadyâ
Emily remained quiet. What else could she do? She wasnât there. She couldnât intervene, couldnât lift a finger â all she could do was relay information. And deep down, she was already used to this role of distant presence.
For several long seconds, only her breathing filled the line. Then, on the other side, a low voice emerged â almost a dragged-out murmur, as if Rupert feared being overheard even by his own thoughts: âEmily... about the contract...â
Emily didnât need long to understand which contract Rupert was referring to. Keeping her eyes closed and her voice almost completely neutral â despite everything boiling inside her â she replied: âUnder the agreement, your family will receive lifelong monthly payments if you die in combat against other anomalies. Theyâre also entitled to housing provided by the Organization, in zones where anomalous events are extremely rare. Those locations have special teams on standby, ready to intervene at the slightest sign of any irregularity...â
The other side stayed silent for a few seconds â a heavy, almost hesitant silence â before the voice finally returned, now noticeably calmer than before: âGoodâ
That was all Emily heard â and, deep down, all she could bear to hear. In the end, there wasnât much left to say. The rest was swallowed by the heavy silence filling the room, leaving only that last sentence echoing inside her.