Everyone looked on the verge of collapse, bodies hunched over, hands braced on their knees or against the rocky floor, chests rising and falling unevenly as they struggled to draw in air. Their faces were pale, streaked with sweat and dust, and some of them couldn’t even keep their heads up for long.
We were still inside the narrow canyon corridor, stone walls looming threateningly around us. But since there was no sign that the anomaly that had tried to kill us was still pursuing us, everyone agreed to stop right there and rest.
Honestly, I seriously doubted they had any strength left to squeeze out of their completely exhausted bodies.
“I really... thought... I was going to die...” murmured one of the members of the response team. The words slipped out in uneven fragments, almost swallowed between one breath and the next. His voice sounded rough and unsteady, shaped by utter exhaustion and the raw remnants of fear that still clung to his chest.
He had to suck in air twice before he could finish the thought, his shoulders still trembling, his whole body protesting as he tried to catch his breath.
“That hellish... pointless training... the kind we went through every single day...” He had to stop, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He dragged in a breath, struggling, as if his lungs refused to cooperate: “If it hadn’t been for that...”
The sentence died before it could be finished. His throat felt raw and dry, and he swallowed hard, looking away after a few seconds of heavy silence. When he spoke again, his voice was low and restrained, still breaking between one breath and the next: “I–I don’t want... to even think about it”
The murmur came out broken, unevenly spaced, every word torn out between short breaths, yet still understandable. His back was pressed against the rough canyon wall that surrounded us.
I stood a few steps ahead of the group, slightly apart from the others, focused on the path in front of us. I watched what little I could, though the dense fog made the effort nearly pointless, limiting my vision to just a few feet ahead and swallowing anything farther away.
The oppressive silence was broken only by the muffled sound of the organization members breathing. My focus, however, was interrupted when I heard footsteps approaching from behind.
Victor, Rupert, and Arthur came up to me, emerging little by little from the curtain of fog. All three wore clear signs of exhaustion, heavy breathing, slumped shoulders, tense expressions.
“Did we take the wrong path?” Rupert asked as soon as he reached me. His eyes scanned the darkness ahead, alert and wary, though I doubted he could see anything more than I could, just vague shadows and a path that seemed to vanish into nothing.
I simply shrugged before answering, my voice low and flat: (I’m not sure)
Rupert’s shoulders visibly sagged at my words, as if whatever hope he had left had been ripped away in an instant: “Great...” he muttered, his voice heavy with discouragement as he ran a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture: “So we’re officially lost in the middle of nowhere” He glanced around, staring into the emptiness surrounding us, then let out a deep sigh: “Can this get any worse?”
I really wanted to tell him not to say that, because, surprisingly, considering our luck, I wouldn’t have doubted for a second that things absolutely could get worse. Still, in the end, I let Rupert’s words slide. Out of the corner of my eye, or maybe, technically, the corner of my air eye? It’s hard to describe the sensation.
Either way, I watched Victor in profile. He was staring straight ahead, but his gaze seemed distant, lost somewhere far from here. There was something intensely thoughtful about his expression, as if every second was spent chewing over possibilities. Arthur, on the other hand, was watching me openly, without the slightest hint of restraint.
His eyes carried a raw curiosity, as if I were a newly discovered puzzle made of pieces he’d never seen before, and needed to solve. Simply put, his stare was so intense it bordered on uncomfortable, making my skin prickle under his constant attention.
“What was that back there?” Victor’s question, direct and anything but subtle, snapped me out of it. I raised my eyes to him, still trying to organize my own thoughts: “How did you... stop me from dying?”
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Even he seemed to get lost in his own words, frowning as if trying to make sense of what he had just said. Still, to me, it sounded strange. Honestly, I had no idea what he meant by that.
“Great” Rupert muttered in a low voice, still loud enough to reach my ears: “So that really did happen...” He paused, rubbing his face as if trying to get his thoughts in order: “For a second there, I seriously thought I was starting to lose it. I mean, Victor technically got... crushed”
I ignored Rupert’s persistent murmuring and focused back on Victor. I studied him for a moment before questioning him, keeping my expression as cold and indifferent as ever, even though, inside, I was genuinely confused by the whole situation: (Would you have preferred that I let that idiot crab crush you?)
He shook his head, looking away for a moment: “No... that’s not what I meant...” His lips pressed together again, as if the words died before they could take shape. After a few seconds of silence, he took a deep breath and tried again: “I mean... of course I’m grateful you saved me. Really. I am. But...” The sentence trailed off unfinished. He fell silent once more, clearly struggling to find the right words.
I, on the other hand, just stared at him, growing more confused by the second, waiting for him to finally say what he actually wanted.
“What Victor is trying to say is that he should have died” Arthur said suddenly, his voice low, immediately drawing my attention.
I gave a small nod as I sent my thoughts directly into his mind, and into Rupert’s and Victor’s as well, clear and calm: (Yes, that’s exactly why I saved him. I mean, it would’ve been strange, even wrong, for me not to help when it was obvious I had the ability to do so)
Arthur let out an ironic smile, the corner of his lips slowly lifting, as if my words genuinely amused him: “I don’t think you understood” he said in a calm, curious tone: “I’m not saying he would’ve died without you. I’m saying he actually died”
He paused briefly, his gaze locked on mine: “You didn’t make it in time...” he continued, his voice low, barely more than a whisper: “At least, not before appearing right in front of Victor, as if you had managed to reach him in time”
Well... I truly didn’t understand what he meant. From my perspective, everything that happened was simple: Victor was about to be crushed, and I intervened. I’ll admit that somewhere between starting to run toward him and actually saving him, something strange happened.
I moved so fast I didn’t even have time to register it, when I realized what was happening, I was already there, standing between Victor and a death that was absolutely certain. But hey... I’m an anomaly. I’m usually the one causing these kinds of bizarre situations. So, in the end, one more strange occurrence isn’t exactly out of character for me.
(So... you’re trying to tell me that...) I asked Arthur, watching him closely. He didn’t answer right away, only furrowed his brow slightly, his expression thoughtful.
“You saved him” he said, his voice blunt, almost harsh, yet still tinged with disbelief. There was a brief pause, as if he were trying to organize his thoughts before continuing: “Or rather... you erased Victor’s death. You treated it as if it had never happened”
Victor’s, Rupert’s, and Arthur’s gazes all turned to me at the same time, steady, expectant, clearly waiting for an answer to the questions they’d just raised. Unfortunately for them, all I did was shrug, almost automatically.
I was just as confused as anyone there. My mind searched in vain for some plausible explanation, but the truth was simple and uncomfortable: I genuinely had no idea what they were talking about.
(So... is that a bad thing?) I asked, honestly confused. I still couldn’t see where the problem was. I mean, Victor was safe, did it really matter how I’d done it?
Victor, Rupert, and Arthur exchanged silent glances. For a few moments, the air between them seemed to grow heavier, burdened by an invisible weight, as if none of the three had the courage to give voice to the conclusions already taking shape in their minds.
The silence stretched on, tense and uncomfortable, until Arthur finally broke the hesitation: “There’s still no way for us to know” he began, his voice low and measured, choosing each word carefully.
“Anomalies are usually capable of many things” He paused briefly, then lifted his gaze and fixed it squarely on me, as though trying to see beyond the surface: “But you, my dear, are not a common anomaly... and I have a strong sense that we’re still very far from understanding the full extent of what you’re truly capable of”
He trailed off mid-sentence, bringing a hand to his chin. His eyes drifted to some unfocused point, his expression clearly thoughtful, almost disturbed. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath and continued: “But this... this was completely different from anything I’ve ever seen. It was almost like... rewriting, or shaping, an event that had already happened”
I remained silent after Arthur’s words. Honestly, there wasn’t much for me to say, I had no idea how I’d managed to do what I did to save Victor.
Still, I couldn’t deny that the idea of having yet another anomalous ability in my arsenal wasn’t exactly a bad thing. I certainly wouldn’t complain. A power like that could prove extremely useful in the future... if I ever learned how to control it, of course.
The next few minutes were spent with the group resting. Victor and Rupert, almost unbelievably, seemed to have returned to peak condition in no time at all, as if their earlier exertion had never existed.
The rest of the group, however, still showed clear signs of exhaustion, needing a few more solid minutes to catch their breath. Arthur also appeared reasonably rested, though nowhere near Victor’s or Rupert’s state, his expression still carried a faint trace of fatigue.
As for me, I was perfectly fine. In fact, I hadn’t even gotten tired. That was technically impossible for me, since my body doesn’t operate on energy, or whatever it is that causes fatigue in humans. In the same way, I can’t feel pain either, so even if my feet were aching, I’d never be able to tell.
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