Anomaly

“So...” Rupert muttered, his eyes flicking rapidly from left to right. He ran a hand across his forehead, wiping away a bead of sweat as it trickled down, his expression still worn and exhausted. His dry mouth and cracked lips betrayed the recent strain: “Which way do we go?”
Rupert wasn’t the only one in that state. Victor, Arthur, and all the other members of the reaction team in our ranks looked just as depleted as he did. They had all gone hours without water, their bodies practically dried out.
It was remarkable that they could still keep moving for so long in such a hostile environment, a suffocating, scorching place where the air was thick and heavy, saturated with a metallic scent of ozone that grew sharper with every breath.
Watching their condition, I was absolutely certain that most of them wouldn’t survive if we kept pushing forward without addressing our critical water problem as soon as possible.
My eyes drifted instinctively toward the molten lava. There was something about it, something strange, that filled me with a discomfort I couldn’t simply ignore.
I couldn’t define exactly what it was, but it felt as though a thin, warped haze hovered over its surface, blurring its edges in an unnatural way.
I hadn’t noticed it before when I’d only glanced at the lava rivers in passing. But the moment I focused on it, that sensation became impossible to ignore, as if it had always been there.
None of the others seemed to notice. Their gazes passed over the lava without hesitation, which made me wonder whether it was something only I could see... perhaps because I was an anomaly.
Either way, I needed to understand what was really happening with that lava before we moved on. Even if we rushed now, the truth was cruel and simple: most of the humans in our ranks would die along the way regardless.
As I drifted through my thoughts, Victor approached silently. His eyes swept over the surrounding area, narrowing as he took in every distant sound, before finally settling on me.
“Why did we stop here?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with curiosity: “You seem oddly distracted... did you find something?”
I didn’t answer him right away. I remained still, staring at the stream of lava ahead of us, its incandescent glow faintly reflected in my usual indifferent expression. The silence stretched on for a few seconds, heavy, uncomfortable. Then, without looking away, I let a vague answer slip out: “Maybe...”
Victor raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. I ignored his look and simply moved on, walking forward in silence. I could feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on me, alert, curious, perhaps suspicious, but I paid them no mind.
I kept walking until I stopped at the edge of the lava stream. Then I crouched down and studied the glowing surface. Yes... it was still blurred. The distortion was still there, rippling over the heated flow.
Now that I was closer, I could see it more clearly. It wasn’t just an uneven reflection caused by the heat. It was almost as if there were something behind that blur... lava, yes, but not just lava.
Behind me, I felt confused stares hanging in the air. Victor, his brow deeply furrowed, turned to Arthur in search of some silent explanation. Arthur merely gave a small shake of his head. Apparently, not even his monocle could make out the strange distortion wavering across the lava’s surface.
I stayed still for a few seconds, watching the magma’s slow, hypnotic movement, as if something there was fundamentally out of place. Then, without warning, with a swift and deliberate motion, I plunged my hand straight into the lava.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw everyone’s eyes widen in pure shock at my action, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them. If I saw a human willingly stick their hand into a sea of liquid fire, I’d have the exact same reaction... at least internally.
Either way, I ignored their expressions and focused solely on the sensation. It wasn’t hot, or rather, considering my hand was technically submerged in lava, it was hot, but not to the point of burning or cooking my hand.
There was a constant, almost smothered heat that wrapped around everything in a strangely uniform way. That made it even more curious, given that my gelatinous body is usually considered far more “fragile” than a normal human one.
Still, I endured it without much trouble. On the other hand, my physical strength is far superior to that of a human... that had to mean something, right?
Setting my musings aside, I moved on to the next test. I gathered some of the molten lava in my hand and, with a decisive motion, swallowed it. The heat coursed through my interior like a slow, intense current.
I heard the others swallow hard as they watched, the heavy silence betraying their shock and disbelief. For now, though, I focused only on the sensation. After all, even though I technically don’t need to eat or drink, that doesn’t mean I can’t feel satisfied when I do.
I can accurately tell when something is edible or drinkable enough, and even how enjoyable the experience will be. Because of that, I can say with absolute certainty: even for someone like me, there is pleasure and meaning in those acts.
Drinking lava was definitely not pleasant. When the liquid slid down my throat, it felt like someone was pouring boiling oil mixed with countless chemicals straight down my gullet. It was horrible, hot, thick, suffocating, and yet, strangely fascinating.
Despite every possible description of that torment, I didn’t feel my throat burning, aching, or truly searing. There was no immediate physical pain, just an extreme, unnatural sensation, easily one of the worst I had ever experienced.
And yet... the lava was drinkable. More than that, the most absurd and bizarre detail, considering I was drinking lava: it actually seemed possible to quench one’s thirst with it.
With that realization, I stood up and turned toward the others. They were still staring at me oddly, their faces slick with sweat, some of them unable to hold my gaze, looking away as if they didn’t know what to make of what they’d just witnessed.
Completely ignoring their reactions, I projected my thoughts to everyone, speaking telepathically: (It seems safe to drink... the lava, I mean)
The instant my words echoed in their minds, I felt the air change. Pairs of eyes snapped toward me almost simultaneously, locking onto me in silence for long, heavy, uncomfortable seconds.
One by one, they shifted their gaze to the glowing lava ahead, then back to me, suspicion etched across their faces, as if they were wondering whether they’d missed, or been denied, some crucial explanation. I remained silent, perfectly still.
Victor, Rupert, and Arthur exchanged quick glances, their expressions tense and uncertain, none of them quite sure what to say or how to act in the face of the situation.
Rupert was the first to move. He scratched the back of his neck hard, his jaw tight, irritation creeping into his expression. He took a few cautious steps toward the incandescent lava, feeling the heat ripple through the air and scorch his skin, and muttered through clenched teeth: “Shit... this job really doesn’t pay me enough to make me drink lava”
He moved closer and crouched at the edge of the glowing pool. The heat distorted the air, making his silhouette waver slightly. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a heavy sigh and looked back at me, his lips curling into a tense half-smile: “If I die” he said: “I swear I’m coming back to haunt you”
Honestly, I had no idea how he intended to follow through on that if he actually died. Still, I lived in a world full of anomalies, and, to be fair, I was one myself.
Technically, I had been human once, before all of this. So, from that strange and distorted perspective, his words almost sounded plausible... or at the very least, possible.
In any case, while my thoughts wandered, Rupert slowly extended his hand toward the lava. The heat shimmered in the air, making his skin glisten with sweat.
He hesitated for a brief second, teeth clenched, his face growing redder by the moment, then, in an almost desperate impulse, he shut his eyes and plunged both hands straight into the molten lava.
“Argh!” A cry of pain burst from his lips, echoing through the area. Even so, it didn’t look like he was about to die. His body didn’t collapse, and he didn’t drop to his knees. Still gasping, he yanked his hands back, shaking: “Fuck! That burns like hell!”
As he pulled his hands out, lava dripped between his fingers. His face was flushed, sweat pouring down his tense skin in rivulets. And yet, he held the lava as if it were ordinary water. His hand didn’t reduce to bone, the flesh didn’t give way, and no death-throes scream tore from his throat.
Yes, he was definitely in pain, pain I imagined was similar to what I felt when I put my own hand into the lava. First the sting, then a wave of intense heat spreading across the skin.
In my case, though, it never turned into true suffering. It was just a cold, almost mechanical acknowledgment of sensation.
There were no nerves screaming, no panic, only the recognition that it was hot. Because of that, I could never say for certain how unbearable that temperature truly was for someone who could still feel pain.
Either way, Rupert stared at his hands. Honestly, I got the impression that he might start crying at any moment. Still, he swallowed hard and, with a quick, resolute motion, poured the lava straight down his throat.
Instantly, his entire body shuddered. He clutched his throat, as if trying to contain the agony tearing through him from the inside. Sweat broke out even more violently across his face, streaming down his forehead as the skin of his neck took on a reddish, almost incandescent hue.
And yet, he didn’t die. He didn’t burn up. Seconds later, still standing, Rupert gasped for air, dragging it into his lungs as if every breath were a battle, his face drenched in sweat, his eyes unfocused, but alive.
“Shit” he muttered, a strange look crossing his face: “That was one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had” He paused briefly, swallowing hard, as if he himself couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say: “But... it really did quench my thirst. I feel like I could go a few days without needing water again”
His eyes then shifted past me, toward where the rest of the team stood watching in silence alongside Victor and Arthur. After a moment, he added, his voice lower and more serious: “It’s safe to drink... just be ready for the discomfort. You’re not going to like it. Not even a little”