Anomaly

Chapter 365 – Worship of the true gods [11]

I waited in silence until the information about the weird priest finally came in. In the meantime, I was leaning back against Emily’s desk, my butt resting on the edge, my body tilted slightly backward while my hands balanced me against the smooth wooden surface.

My feet swung back and forth in the air in a steady rhythm, never stopping, an almost childish and completely useless attempt to push away the boredom that, impressively enough, had already settled in after a mere two miserable minutes.

That being said, to be honest, I couldn’t care less about the information on that idiot priest. Details, background, reputation... none of that really interested me. All I wanted to know was exactly where that shameless priest lived, or at the very least which church he usually preached at. Those were the only two pieces of information that actually mattered to me.

Naturally, my sisters were still in the room with us. The atmosphere was calm, with a slightly lazy feel to it. Each of them occupied a different corner, somewhat spread out, distracted by their own activities: some were flipping through books, others were simply observing the room or chatting quietly. Only Nyara and Tenebrya stayed a bit farther away from the rest of us, standing near one of the walls.

The reason was obvious: Nyara is naturally shy. Ever since we walked into Emily’s office, she had stayed tucked away in a corner, quietly watching the situation unfold. I ended up placing Tenebrya beside her, more out of necessity than anything else.

It was already getting exhausting trying to talk to Emily and Laura when neither of them could even bother to look at me thanks to Tenebrya’s presence.

Speaking of Tenebrya, she was sitting in a chair next to Nyara, lightly swinging her legs while looking around with blatant curiosity.

Her eyes wandered across every corner of the office, the shelves stacked with papers, Emily’s neatly organized desk, the small decorations scattered around the room. She seemed to take it all in with a childlike fascination. She could look adorable even doing something as simple as observing her surroundings.

It was a shame humans couldn’t see Nyara’s true appearance. If they could, they’d realize just how adorable she really was. Her small pale eyes carried a soft, peculiar glow, and her delicate little face moved from side to side as she watched everything with curiosity. Every tiny gesture, the slight tilt of her head, her cautious blinking, the way her hands stayed close to her body, only made her even cuter.

Anyway, I kept my attention on Tenebrya, so absorbed that I ended up zoning out from what was happening around me. Even so, Laura’s voice eventually pulled my attention back: “By the way...” Laura began. Her tone carried a light, casual curiosity. When I turned to look at her, I noticed her eyes were fixed on me, waiting: “What are you planning to do when you meet the priest?” she asked.

Laura’s question caught me off guard. For a moment, it felt like her words had interrupted the flow of my thoughts. My eyes blinked a few times in clear confusion as I tried to organize the ideas that suddenly seemed tangled inside my head. What exactly would I do with the priest once I found him?

To be honest, that part had never really crossed my mind. Up until now, the only clear objective I had was figuring out where he was. It was almost like an impulse, a persistent urge pushing me toward him.

Any other decision, any action or choice, I had left for later... for the moment when I would finally be standing in front of him. But now, with the question echoing inside my head, I realized something unsettling. What exactly should I do when I found him?

I had a very strong feeling that something was wrong with the priest. It wasn’t a structured thought, nor a logical conclusion. It was just... a feeling. Something out of place, like a wrong note in a song that was supposed to be perfect.

The problem was that I couldn’t even explain what that “something wrong” was. And if I didn’t know what was wrong... how exactly could I fix it? I had a vague sense that it had something to do with the praying. That idea kept returning to my mind, as if it were the central piece of a puzzle I still couldn’t fully see.

But why? Praying wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, people were probably praying right at that very moment, in churches, in humble homes, beside their beds before going to sleep... Many believers probably asked God every single day for their families to stay safe, for their children to grow up well, for difficult days to pass quickly.

And yet... I felt absolutely nothing when I thought about those people. No discomfort. No warning. Nothing. But with the priest, it was different. Strangely different. Honestly... the more I thought about it, the stranger everything became.

The feeling only deepened, as if there were something hidden just beneath the surface of my thoughts, something I still couldn’t clearly see. So why? Why, out of all the people who could be praying at that very moment... was the priest different?

In short, I had absolutely no idea what I would do with the priest. The only thing I was certain about was what would happen if that anger returned when I stood face-to-face with him, the same irrational rage from before, dense and suffocating, that seemed to set my chest on fire and cloud any trace of reason.

If that happened: (I would definitely kill him!) The thought appeared in my mind with terrifying certainty, firm and cold, as if I were simply repeating a universal truth, something simple, obvious, inevitable.

There was no hesitation, no doubt, not even guilt. And that was exactly what left me perplexed. The way that thought settled into my mind... naturally and effortlessly. As if it were the right path. As if there were absolutely nothing wrong with it.

My eyes blinked once, and then my gaze shifted toward Emily and Laura. Naturally, both of them were already looking back at me. Their lips were slightly raised, and their eyes were a little wider than usual. They didn’t look scared. They looked... surprised. Surprised by my words.

It was the kind of expression someone makes when they hear something completely unexpected, something that doesn’t match the person who said it. As if they simply couldn’t believe those same words could have come from me.

To be honest... I wasn’t even sure myself. Deep down, I didn’t really understand why I had answered that way, with so much conviction. The words had come out before I even had the chance to properly think about them.

Noticing my silence after my less-than-friendly words, Laura was the first to speak. She hesitated: “I...” she began, but the sentence died in her throat. Her fingers intertwined nervously as her gaze wandered across the floor. Then she took a deep breath: “I’m not sure I like that...” she continued, her voice quieter now, filled with uncertainty. Her eyes returned to mine, cautious: “You killing humans, I mean...” She paused briefly, frowning slightly: “That doesn’t really seem like your way of handling things”

I didn’t respond to Laura’s words. I remained silent, my gaze lowered, as if the floor had suddenly become far more interesting than anything else. My field of vision followed only my feet, which moved back and forth in a smooth, natural motion.

Laura was right. Normally, I wouldn’t handle things this way. But honestly... I didn’t really care. The idea didn’t provoke guilt, fear, or hesitation. If I needed to kill the priest, I probably wouldn’t feel anything at all while doing it. It was a cold thought, but it was also true.

Still, that wasn’t my original goal. First, I needed to look into this priest. There had been something about him that bothered me from the start, an uncomfortable feeling that was hard to explain. I needed to understand what it was, to figure out where that strange impression came from. After that... I would decide what to do.

I kept my eyes on my feet as I drifted into my thoughts, my mind wandering through possibilities and assumptions. In the middle of that, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, Emily and Laura looking in my direction. Their gazes carried curiosity, but I chose to ignore them for the moment.

That lasted only until a sharp sound cut through the room. A dry click echoed from Emily’s monitor speakers, immediately catching my attention. I looked up and found her leaning slightly forward in her chair, her hand sliding over the mouse as she opened the email on the screen. The bluish glow of the monitor reflected across her focused face.

Apparently, the information about the priest had finally arrived: “Let’s see who our priest friend really is” Emily commented casually, though there was a faint note of curiosity in her voice as she opened the attached files.

My attention was naturally drawn to the screen. I straightened up slightly, feeling my curiosity grow. Now we would find out what kind of person that priest really was.

(Dominic Virel...) The name sounded natural in my mind the moment my eyes read it. Next to it was a photograph of the priest. The picture looked like it had been taken a few years earlier, he seemed a bit younger than in the recent videos where he appeared preaching. Even so, there was no doubt it was the same man.

There was other information as well: his current age, family connections, former jobs, past relationships, places he had lived, and decisions that had shaped his life. It was like flipping through a meticulously organized dossier, attached files that documented, almost step by step, the life of the man named Dominic Virel.

In short, that priest seemed to have lived an ordinary life. Nothing in his past suggested any real connection to faith. For decades, Dominic showed not the slightest interest in religion. On the contrary, some records suggested he didn’t even believe in higher powers or any kind of divinity.

However, something changed. His behavior underwent an abrupt transformation at the exact moment I made my first public appearance. From that day on, Dominic began to preach. At first, his words echoed only among small groups, almost always ignored. He was a complete unknown, just another man talking about faith somewhere forgotten.

But that changed recently. All of a sudden, his popularity exploded. Sermons that previously barely gathered half a dozen listeners began attracting crowds. His name started circulating, whispered among believers and the curious alike, as if something in his words had sparked a sudden fervor in people.

Even so, setting aside all that information, which, at the moment, didn’t help much, there were also more practical details in the dossier: the address where he currently lived, a small modest house in an old neighborhood, and the name of the church where he currently preached.