Anomaly

Chapter 377 – Worship of the true gods [23]

For the moment, I realized my priority was to calm that fanatical priest and help Laura and Emily before the situation spiraled completely out of control. No matter how I looked at it, the position they were in was terrible for their backs, so uncomfortable it almost felt deliberately torturous.

I took a deep breath one last time, letting the air fill my lungs as I tried to organize my thoughts. Then I cast a sideways glance at my little sister, Eryanis. No words were needed, I was absolutely certain my sisters understood what was happening.

The priest was undoubtedly manipulating forces that belonged to us... using them as if they were his, without any real respect or understanding. Eryanis, for instance, wouldn’t hesitate for even a second to cut this problem off at the root. To be honest, none of us would.

Still, there was an important detail: just because he was using our powers didn’t mean he truly controlled them. What he was doing was twisting, bypassing... deceiving the very concepts we embody, forcing them to obey him through artificial means. But now, with me and my sisters here... everything changed.

Sure enough, Eryanis, still wrapped in that unmistakable air of superiority, noticed my gaze resting on her. Our eyes met for less than two seconds, a brief instant, but more than enough. Without any rush or apparent effort, she casually raised her hand. Then a sharp snap cut through the air as her fingers closed.

At that very moment, an overwhelming pressure emerged, not chaotic, but absolute. It was a force far greater, incomparably superior to the one the priest had summoned to force Laura and Emily to their knees. Where there had once been weight and coercion, now there was dominance, order. Eryanis’s presence didn’t just confront the “Concepts” saturating the environment, it silenced them.

As if they were mere waves being crushed by a deeper ocean, all the pressure bearing down on Laura and Emily vanished, ripped from the air with almost contemptuous ease. For a moment, even the environment itself seemed to hesitate, as if reality had to acknowledge who was truly in control.

Naturally, the priest was visibly surprised, no, more than that, disturbed, when he realized his power had been abruptly cut off. His eyes widened almost comically, his pupils trembling in disbelief, while his mouth opened and closed without producing a sound, giving him the strange, uncomfortable look of a fish out of water, desperately struggling for air.

For a brief moment, he seemed incapable of understanding what had just happened. Still, I didn’t grant him even a second of my attention. I ignored him completely and stepped forward, my steady footsteps echoing softly as I passed his paralyzed body. My focus was elsewhere. I approached Emily and Laura, who were still on the ground.

(Are you two okay?) I asked mentally, leaving no chance for the priest to overhear.

Emily and Laura began to stand with some difficulty, their movements slightly uncoordinated, as if their bodies were still adjusting after the impact. Their faces showed faint traces of pain, a slight furrow here, a confused sigh there.

Emily was the first to speak as she got to her feet. Still a bit dazed, she raised one hand to her head while the other carefully touched the reddish swelling on her forehead. She turned slightly toward the priest, her eyes scanning him in a quick, silent assessment before finally shifting back to me.

“I’ve had worse days” she said, trying to sound casual.

The faint wince that followed, however, gave her away. Her lips pressed together for a moment, and her breathing came out heavier than usual.

“I’ll be fine” she added, her tone firmer now, almost as if she were trying to convince herself: “I just need some time... for the swelling to go down”

It didn’t seem like Emily was lying. In fact, knowing a bit of her personality, it was hard to imagine she had any reason to. Her expression, though slightly tightened by pain, carried no signs of hesitation or guilt, just genuine discomfort.

It didn’t seem serious either. Despite the visible swelling on her forehead, which had taken on a vivid reddish hue, it was unlikely to cause anything more serious. In a few hours, or at most by the next day, she’d probably be fine, with nothing more than a faint mark left as a reminder of the impact.

Finally, I turned my attention to Laura. Like Emily, she kept one hand pressed against her head, while the other rested just below her forehead, as if trying to ease the discomfort. However, there was a clear difference between the two: Laura’s forehead wasn’t swollen. There was only a faint redness, subtle and far less intense than Emily’s. Apparently, Laura hadn’t hit her head with the same force.

Laura cast a quick glance around, as if searching for something invisible to everyone else. Her eyes carried the same confusion as Emily’s, drifting through the environment without truly focusing on anything. When she finally spoke, her voice echoed faintly, revealing the mix of surprise and disbelief that still lingered within her.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, frowning. She reached one hand back as if trying to ease a weight that wasn’t really there, letting out an uneasy sigh: “It feels like all of Earth’s gravity suddenly got dumped onto my body...”

The last part came out almost like a mutter, under her breath but still perfectly audible: “Not great for my back”

I stayed momentarily distracted by Laura, watching the slight furrow in her brow and the way her breathing was still a bit uneven, but my attention was quickly drawn back to the priest. He finally lifted his head, though he remained sprawled on the ground like a complete weirdo.

His cassock was disheveled, dust-stained, and his fingers trembled slightly against the cold floor. His wide, damp eyes locked onto Emily and Laura, filled with a clear mix of confusion and disbelief, as if what he was seeing clashed entirely with everything he believed to be absolute truth.

“I-Impossible...” he stammered, his voice faltering at the start. He paused, swallowing hard, his dry lips moving before any sound came out: “This can’t be... it couldn’t be...”

For a brief moment, silence settled over the room. Then his voice echoed again, louder now, though still shaky, weighed down by doubt, almost breaking under its own pressure: “This wasn’t supposed to happen! How... how could mere humans possibly withstand the power of the gods?!”

The last words came out like a desperate plea, twisted by frustration, teetering on the edge of despair, as if he needed that answer just to hold onto his sanity. At that, Laura and Emily exchanged a glance before looking back at him. Their expressions carried sharp caution, mixed with clear irritation.

With that, Emily and Laura took a step back, startled by the priest’s unexpected reaction. I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the impatience that was starting to build, a nagging sense that this would turn into a major problem if it wasn’t dealt with right then and there.

My mind raced, running through possible scenarios in seconds: confrontation, explanations, consequences... each one more exhausting than the last. I sighed inwardly. Well... whatever, I guess.

I’m an anomaly. Something completely beyond human comprehension. There’s no real reason for me, or my sisters, to hide as if we’re guilty of existing. The fact that we’re still within the organization’s facilities is, in itself, a choice we made.

Still, I don’t want this to turn into a fight, especially not involving Emily. She doesn’t deserve that. If we’re quick... and quiet, I think everything will be fine. Or at least, fine enough not to make things worse.

That decided, I didn’t waste time hesitating. The choice had already been made. There was no reason to hold back anymore, so I moved forward at once, my words coming out laced with intent and a hint of controlled disdain.

“Ironic... coming from you” I said, tilting my head slightly: “When you’re using our own concepts artificially, forcing them to bend to the will of a mere human...” I paused briefly: “When it’s obvious they belong to us. That they’d rather remain with their true creators... and masters”

The priest’s reaction to my words was immediate. He turned sharply toward me, his robes brushing together with a faint whisper, and for a moment his eyes scanned me from head to toe. To him, I was probably just a child, small, insignificant, daring to speak about things far beyond her understanding.

However, when our eyes met, something changed. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I noticed it: a brief hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty that crossed his pupils before he suppressed it. It seemed enough to make him restrain himself... but only slightly.

“What the hell does that have to do with you... kid?” he stammered, the first part slipping out nervously. Then his expression hardened, his jaw tightening, and his voice gained firmness, almost like a sharp strike: “Children should stay quiet while adults are talking!”

Naturally, my sisters, who until then had been quiet and seemingly composed, began to show much stronger reactions. Without exception, they all turned toward the priest almost at the same time, as if pulled by the same invisible thread.

Even with their faces partially hidden, it was impossible not to notice the tension radiating from them. The clear irritation they felt, held back only through sheer effort. Only Althea remained different, her expression unreadable.

The others, however, could barely hide it. Their stiff shoulders, fingers tensing beneath the fabric, slightly uneven breathing... everything gave away what they truly wanted to do. They knew, of course.

They knew they’d be reprimanded if they gave in to the impulse, if they killed him, blew him apart, erased him from existence, or carried out any other creative and horrific form of death that was undoubtedly already bubbling in their small yet dangerously imaginative minds.

Naturally, that didn’t mean I intended to stay silent: “A kid, huh?” A short, almost absent-minded laugh slipped from my lips. I genuinely found the word amusing.

From my perspective, a human lifespan of eighty years was nothing more than the blink of an eye, something that began and ended before it even had a chance to become memorable. Considering everything I must have lived through... well, even I’m not sure of my exact birth date. My memories exist only as scattered fragments.

Still, it’s likely that billions of years have passed since that initial moment. Compared to that, human life seemed... insignificant. Too brief. Too fragile. Just a simple breath, the kind you let out without even noticing on a dull morning, gone before it leaves any trace.