Anomaly

Chapter 356 – Worship of the true gods [2]

Emily’s office was steeped in silence. The metal walls, lined on the inside, muffled any outside noise, and the air conditioner hummed softly. The only audible sound was the faint static from the video playing on the monitor in front of her. Emily’s expression remained neutral, unreadable, like the still surface of calm water.

Her eyes tracked every second with meticulous attention, blinking no more than necessary. Laura, standing across from her, kept her hands clasped in front of her body. She had no idea what was going through her boss’s mind; she knew that neutral expression well. Emily leaned back against the leather chair, her posture relaxed only in appearance.

One hand rested on the armrest, supporting her chin while her index finger tapped rhythmically against her cheek, a repetitive, mechanical gesture. Her other hand remained still on the desk near the keyboard, as if ready to pause the video the instant something relevant appeared.

In short, the video showed several people kneeling in what looked like a church, or at least that was Emily’s assumption. The image shook slightly, as though whoever was filming was trying and failing to keep the camera steady. The framing stayed fixed on a single point in the hall, preventing a wider view of the space.

Even so, it was possible to make out rows of old pews, shadows cast by tall stained-glass windows, and the low echo of voices murmuring in unison. The people had their heads bowed, hands tightly clasped, lips moving in quiet prayer.

The reason Emily believed it was a church was simple: at the front of the crowd stood a priest. He wore long, dark vestments, and his raised hand hovered in the air like that of a conductor leading an invisible orchestra, or a director guiding actors through a scene. His movements were slow and solemn.

A bitter taste rose in Emily’s throat. She couldn’t quite explain it, maybe it was intuition, maybe something more primal, but whenever that feeling surfaced, trouble wasn’t far behind.

“Alright...” Emily murmured, letting the word fade into the air. Her eyes, once fixed on the monitor’s bluish glow, slowly lifted. Across from her, Laura was hunched over her tablet, fingers sliding urgently across the smooth surface. Emily ran a hand through her hair, trying to organize her thoughts: “This is insane...” she added, her voice lower now. Her fingers drummed lightly against the edge of the desk before she looked back at Laura: “When exactly did all this craziness start?”

Laura shifted uncomfortably in her swivel chair, the leather creaking softly under her weight. The cold light of the monitors reflected off her glasses as she raised her eyes from the tablet and met the gaze of her boss, and longtime friend.

Though at that moment, the rigid posture across the desk made it clear the boss outweighed the friend: “I think...” Laura began, but the word faded.

She hesitated. Her grip on the tablet loosened, and her eyes carefully studied Emily’s face. A quiet breath escaped through her nose: “It’s probably been almost two months...” The words came out softer than she intended. Laura swallowed and forced herself to meet Emily’s gaze directly.

One of Emily’s eyebrows slowly arched, confusion etching itself across her face. Her eyes stayed locked on Laura: “And you didn’t tell me why?” she asked.

Her tone wasn’t loud, nor irritated. Quite the opposite. It was calm. Laura felt her shoulders stiffen almost immediately. Her fingers laced together in front of her in an unconscious attempt to steady herself, and she briefly looked away, as if the floor might offer a better answer than she could. A knot tightened in her stomach. She really hated getting caught in situations like this.

“It’s just...” Laura started, but the sentence hung in the air for a few seconds. Her eyes moved over Emily from head to toe. She wet her lips before continuing, her voice slightly lower: “I didn’t think it would grow this much” She let out an almost imperceptible sigh: “I mean, ever since the anomalies were revealed to the world, cults have been popping up everywhere. Small groups, fanatics, opportunists... that was expected” Her fingers curled slightly, as if arranging her thoughts: “But this...” She hesitated again, choosing her words carefully: “... I didn’t think it would reach this scale. Not this fast”

Emily let out a long sigh at Laura’s uneasy response. For a moment, she pressed a hand to her forehead, as if trying to dispel the tension building there, then slowly shook her head.

“I’m not mad at you, Laura” She gave a small shrug: “I mean... it’d actually be strange if I were upset, considering I’m the one who asked you not to keep me updated about these cults”

Her words were firm, but her expression shifted soon after. The muscles in her jaw tightened, and a clear scowl formed as a heavy, warm breath escaped through her nose.

“I didn’t expect these crazy cults to grow this much either...” Emily turned her gaze back to the monitor. Her eyes scanned the video quickly, then dropped to the comment section, where messages were piling up at an alarming speed.

She narrowed her eyes: “Looks like a lot of people are attending these gatherings...” she muttered, leaning slightly closer to the screen: “One of them in particular seems to be drawing a lot of attention”

Laura raised an eyebrow, curiosity arching her expression. She leaned forward and craned her neck, trying to get a better look at whatever had caught Emily’s attention.

“Oh...” she murmured, recognition coloring her voice. Her eyes lit up suddenly: “I’ve heard a lot about that one” She slowly crossed her arms.

“It became pretty popular after the deeds of the [Angel of Death] started coming to light” she continued, her lips twisting slightly: “Whenever something like that happens, groups like this come out of the shadows. I imagine some of the visitors we received at the facility that day... might be among those involved”

Laura tilted her head slightly, mentally organizing the information: “It’s a cult based on the aspects that sustain creation” she explained, her tone now more analytical: “They don’t worship exactly one single god, but rather a set of personified principles”

Her expression grew more thoughtful, her brows drawing together as she recalled details: “From what I’ve gathered, their main deities revolve around virtues. Life, Death...” She paused briefly: “At least that’s how they present themselves. In practice, groups that claim to be guardians of virtue tend to be the most dangerous”

Emily sank back into her swivel chair, the leather creaking softly as she leaned into it. She pressed a hand to her forehead for a moment before letting it drop to the armrest. A long sigh slipped from her lips, heavy with frustration that felt more like exhaustion than anger.

“I have a strong feeling we’re going to have serious problems very soon...” she murmured quietly. Laura didn’t miss the words.

***

(POV – Graham Vickers)

Graham sat inside a small corner diner, the kind that permanently carried the scent of freshly brewed coffee in its walls. The day had barely begun, and outside the sky shone a vibrant blue as the first rays of sunlight slowly rose over the horizon, spilling over the shorter buildings and painting their facades in shades of gold.

The light streamed through the wide display window and spread across the checkered floor, casting bright patterns that stretched toward the legs of his table. Graham wore a calm, contemplative expression as he watched the city lazily wake up, a bus passing in the distance, an elderly woman walking her dog, steam rising from manhole covers still chilled from the night before.

Within minutes, his breakfast arrived. The plate was set down in front of him with the soft clink of porcelain against wood, accompanied by the warm scent of toasted bread and melted butter.

He gave a subtle nod in thanks and began eating at an unhurried pace. Then the gentle jingle of the bells attached to the door echoed through the diner as someone stepped inside. The sound briefly cut through the establishment’s calm atmosphere.

Graham didn’t look up from his plate. He kept chewing slowly, but his ears remained alert. Firm footsteps crossed the floor, approaching at a steady rhythm. They didn’t hesitate. They weren’t searching for just any table. They were coming straight toward him.

A faint scrape of wood broke the silence as the chair across from him was pulled back and someone sat down. The sound carried softly through the nearly empty diner, blending with the distant clatter of silverware and the muffled murmur of other conversations. Graham didn’t react. He kept his eyes on his plate, lifting another forkful to his mouth as if the newcomer were nothing more than an added detail.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air. The visitor said nothing; only the soft sound of a cup being set on its saucer confirmed his presence. Minutes dragged by. When he finished eating, Graham wiped his mouth with a napkin, his movements calm and methodical. Only then did he raise his eyes.

The figure across from him sipped coffee with almost studied patience, long fingers wrapped around the porcelain as though its warmth were the only thing anchoring him to reality. He had blond hair cut in an effortless style, streaked with purple strands that contrasted strangely, almost artificially.

His eyes were blue, a pale and cold shade, yet completely devoid of light. There was no curiosity, no irritation, no emotion at all. It was like staring into a storefront display at a perfectly sculpted mannequin. Or worse, as if the body were present, but whatever should inhabit it was absent. An empty vessel staring back at him.

“Eve, I’m glad you accepted my invitation to meet again” Graham said with a smile. He drummed his fingers lightly against the table for a moment, as if arranging his thoughts, then glanced toward the diner’s large glass window. He took a slow breath before continuing: “Even if it was rather sudden”

He fell silent, patient, his eyes fixed on Eve as the distant ticking of a clock filled the space between them. The subtle aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, blending with the faint perfume she wore.

Eve, for her part, did not rush. She lifted the cup to her lips calmly, sipping and savoring the drink. The delicate click of porcelain meeting saucer broke the silence.

“Blame chance for that” she said at last, offering a faint, almost careless smile.

She gave a small shrug, as though it were trivial: “Technically, our plans overlap to some extent” she continued, stirring her spoon in the cup without real need: “And of course I would attend when it involves my Lady... and her sisters”

Graham did not respond immediately before finally turning his face fully toward Eve. His eyes rested on her with a mixture of caution and frustration. As always, he simply couldn’t understand her. There was something about Eve he found fascinating. It wasn’t just her impeccably straight posture or the controlled way she breathed. It was her eyes.

Graham had seen ambition in many people’s eyes before, eyes that gleamed with desire, with hunger, with that near-feverish flame of someone determined to conquer the world or destroy it trying. But Eve’s... hers were different. Dark. Opaque. Deep as a bottomless well.

They did not reflect the light around them. They did not tremble with emotion. They revealed no doubt, no intention. It was as if nothing existed there but absolute emptiness. No hatred, no joy, no contempt, only the absence of anything at all.

Graham had the strange sensation that if he reached out and touched that gaze, his fingers would pass through something cold and hollow. She simply seemed... empty.

“If you say so” Victor murmured, shrugging with indifference. He tilted his head slightly before continuing: “By the way... how are the others?” he asked, crossing his arms with apparent casualness: “I imagine they’re eager to reunite with their Ladies, aren’t they?”

Graham finally noticed a different glint in Eve’s eyes, subtle and faint, yet undeniably present. It was curious: that spark only appeared when her mistress or one of her sisters was mentioned. As though, amid the usual coldness in her gaze, there was a flame reserved solely for those figures. From his perspective, it was peculiar.

“Soon, they will meet their masters. Of course... they are all radiant, eager to finally reconnect with the ones who granted them purpose” Eve’s voice drifted through the air like a devotional whisper. There was something ethereal in her tone, a distant gleam in her eyes, as though she were already contemplating a sacred reunion only she could see.

Each word carried feverish reverence, an enthusiasm that bordered on fanaticism. She placed a hand over her chest for a moment, her fingers lightly clutching the fabric of her clothing.

“I miss my Lady as well” she murmured, and for a second her expression faltered, tinged with deep, aching longing: “But there is nothing to be done”

She lifted her chin, and the hesitation vanished, replaced by unwavering resolve: “I must gather the Apostles of the “Eyes” That is my primary mission”

Graham merely shrugged at her words, a lazy and disinterested gesture. The truth was simple and raw: he didn’t care what she did or didn’t do. Her choices were her problem, as long as they didn’t interfere with what truly mattered.

He maintained contact with Eve and the other members of the Eyes out of pure convenience. Each of them occupied a strategic position, pieces carefully placed on a board. There was no genuine affection, much less blind loyalty, only utility.

Deep down, he knew it was no different for them. He wasn’t a leader, nor an indispensable ally. He was a resource. A tool with potential. And that drew a faint, nearly imperceptible smile from him. Were they using him? Yes. Was he using them? Also yes. It was a fair exchange. Natural.

“That being said...” Eve’s tone grew firm again, as though each word were carefully set in its proper place, leaving no room for hesitation.

The earlier distress in her gaze vanished entirely, turning cold, not just cold, but like untouched snow beneath a starless sky, wrapped in impenetrable darkness. There was no doubt there anymore, no wavering. Only conviction.

“Our partnership lasts until we achieve our shared goal, bringing back all of my Lady’s sisters” she declared, her voice controlled yet filled with devotion: “After that, I and the other members of the Eyes will return to our true duty”

She lifted her chin slightly, her posture rigid like someone who had never forgotten her place in the world: “We will return to serving our Ladies... as it should be”

Graham watched her in silence, his eyes attentive yet devoid of any visible emotion. The analog clock mounted above the counter hummed in a steady rhythm, a sound nearly insignificant under normal circumstances, yet in that half-empty diner it seemed to echo clearly.

In the background came the uneven sound of dishes being washed, the occasional clink of silverware striking the sink. The lingering scent of hot grease and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, seeping into Graham’s senses and blending with the sweet aroma of pies displayed in the glass case beside the register.

He blinked once, slowly. If Eve’s statement had affected him in any way, nothing in his posture revealed it. He simply gave a small, lazy shrug. His expression remained completely indifferent, a cold, polished mask: “Of course. As you wish, ma’am”