Anomaly

Chapter 379 – Worship of the true gods [25]

(POV – Eve)

Eve walked through the city streets at dusk, as the sky slowly shed its golden hues and sank into a deep, melancholic blue. The last streaks of light spilled across rooftops and windows. It wouldn’t be long before the sun’s natural glow, just moments ago warming the earth, would be completely drawn away to another part of the world, leaving the scene before her wrapped in darkness.

The streetlamps began to flicker on one by one, casting timid circles of light onto the cobblestones as shadows stretched out like thin fingers. The air gradually cooled, carrying with it a soft whisper of wind weaving through alleys and narrow streets. Just like nightfall, death was inevitable.

There was no escape, no possible resistance. It was an absolute truth, as old as the world itself. Humans could fight, deny, even try to cheat fate for a fleeting moment... but in the end, all of them were claimed. Death did not run, nor did it rush, it simply arrived.

And that was precisely what set them apart from the gods. From the gods... and from her mistress, and her sisters. Eve lifted her gaze slightly toward the darkening sky, her steps steady yet filled with a contemplative silence. To her, night was not merely the end of a day, it was a constant reminder of what made humans fragile... and, in a way, beautiful in their inevitable finitude.

Even Eve, blessed with all the benevolence of her mistress, was not immune to the thin boundary between life and death. On the contrary, perhaps it was precisely because she had been touched by Death itself, manifested in a form the human mind could comprehend, that Eve carried an even deeper awareness of that fragile threshold.

She understood, with painful clarity, how unique, essential, and inevitable death truly was. Not as a crude end, but as an absolute, silent, and impartial force that sustained the balance of all that exists.

That realization had completely reshaped her view of the world. Life, once something continuous and predictable, now seemed fleeting, delicate, almost sacred in its transience.

Naturally, Eve imagined that the other apostles had undergone similar experiences. After all, being an apostle of a virtue did not merely mean serving, it meant stepping, however slightly, into the domain of one’s god.

It was a limited yet transformative glimpse of the primordial forces that governed reality. Each of them carried within themselves fragments of understanding, foundations that upheld the laws their masters commanded.

Lost in her own drifting thoughts, Eve blinked, momentarily disoriented, as if she had been pulled from a distant dream. That was when a soft voice echoed beside her, breaking the silence she herself had created around her: “Lady Eve, are you alright? That’s far too serious an expression for such a beautiful face”

For a brief moment, Eve simply stopped. Reality took a second to settle back into place, and with it came the realization that she was not alone. Her companion was still walking beside her, attentive. A faint warmth rose to her cheeks.

She looked away, masking her embarrassment as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. From his perspective, it probably seemed as though she had completely ignored him, lost in thoughts far removed from his presence, which only made the situation more awkward.

“I’m sorry...” she murmured, almost inaudibly, trying to regain her composure as her thoughts, once so distant, slowly returned to the present.

Speaking of her companion, Eve turned toward the voice. Her eyes met a man in his early thirties. He wore something Evelyn could only describe as refined, not in an ostentatious way, but with a quiet elegance that seemed to envelop every detail.

One of his hands rested in the pocket of loose-cut trousers that fell just above his ankles, where a pair of impeccably clean black sneakers completed the look.

On the wrist of that same hand, partially hidden, was an old watch with a classic design, its subtle gleam hinting at both value and history. His shirt, in a dark brown tone, fit him perfectly and added a sober sophistication to the ensemble.

The man wore a faint smile as he observed Eve from behind dark sunglasses, as though assessing her without any hurry. There was something in his posture, in the slight tilt of his head and the relaxed way he breathed, that conveyed unshakable confidence.

Around them, a few women cast admiring glances, whispering among themselves. Even so, he seemed completely indifferent to the attention, or perhaps he simply found it irrelevant, as though it were something expected, routine, inevitable.

And, well... Eve couldn’t blame him. After all, that aura did not come merely from appearance or posture. It was something deeper, something that seemed to echo from the very god to whom he had devoted his entire being.

“Daniel...” Eve cut off her own train of thought for a moment. Her companion’s name slipped from her slightly parted lips with a soft, automatic familiarity, as though it had long been rooted within her. A quiet sigh followed.

She slowly shook her head, as if trying to dispel a lingering haze. Her expression remained empty, not exactly cold, but stripped of any vivid spark, like a flame that had once burned brighter in the past.

Still, it didn’t bother her. Not anymore. In part, it was the silent price of having touched, even if only superficially, the domain of her goddess. Since then, life had lost much of its color; it was no longer as light or as vibrant as it once seemed.

“Sorry about that... I just drifted off for a moment” she murmured, her voice low, carrying a subtle weariness. Eve hesitated again. Her eyes lifted, drifting away from Daniel and toward the sky, which was slowly being claimed by the first stars of the night.

The twilight painted the horizon in soft shades of violet and deep blue, as if the world itself were in transition, just like her: “I’ve had a lot on my mind... our mission...” The words lingered in the air, unfinished. Eve didn’t need to say more. Daniel, she knew, would understand.

Daniel nodded silently, a slight movement of his head conveying more understanding than words ever could. Eve, on the other hand, didn’t expect him to truly grasp everything she was trying to express, not even she had fully managed to untangle her own thoughts.

The idea of the apostles’ mission still weighed heavily on her mind, something she had been slowly processing, like a truth difficult to swallow. It was an ancient, solemn oath, made directly to the gods they served... and it carried a weight far beyond mere words.

Even so, if there was anyone worth talking to about it, it was Daniel. He had a unique way of seeing things, a clarity no one else possessed, as if he could separate emotion from duty without losing himself in the process.

In truth... there was another apostle who might have been even better suited for that kind of conversation. Eve thought of her for a brief moment, but quickly pushed the idea aside. No, definitely not. She couldn’t say the two of them would get along. Far from it. That woman’s personality was... intense.

Daniel seemed to catch, even if only subtly, the direction of Eve’s thoughts. A brief flicker of understanding crossed his gaze, as though he were about to question her, but he didn’t. Instead, he maintained his refined smile, carrying a quiet elegance that made words unnecessary.

Eve, truthfully, was grateful for that. A faint sense of relief passed through her chest, almost imperceptible. There were far more pressing matters to deal with than getting tangled in other people’s conflicts.

Those thoughts, persistent as they were, were something Eve intended to face alone, in her own time. Preferably when she could finally return to the presence of her goddess and mentor, where she would find not only answers, but also the balance she lacked.

When Daniel spoke again, his voice was firmer, as though he had decided to cut through any unnecessary distractions. He shifted the subject naturally, getting straight to the point, the real reason they were walking through the city streets at the start of the evening.

“Any idea what we should expect from Graham?” he asked, keeping his gaze forward, attentive to the movement around them. There was a brief pause before he added, in a lower, more reflective tone: “His existence is deeply disordered... chaotic. The complete opposite of the one I serve”

Eve nodded silently, though inwardly her mind was far from at ease. Her thoughts about Graham were no different, in fact, they were even harsher. To her, he was the kind of man who exuded cunning and filth in every gesture, someone whose very presence was enough to cause discomfort. There was something deeply repulsive about him, an impression that was hard to ignore, as if his intentions could never truly be clean.

If she had a choice, Eve wouldn’t hesitate to keep her distance, avoiding any kind of collaboration with someone like him. However, reality did not offer her that luxury. As much as she disliked the idea, there was an undeniable fact: their goals, almost ironically, aligned perfectly.

“Just stay alert” Eve replied, without looking away, returning to the question Daniel had asked moments earlier. Her voice was calm, but carried a subtle, almost imperceptible weight.

“He’s cunning, but he’s not a fool. He knows better than to interfere with us, not when we possess even a fraction of the power granted by our gods” She paused briefly, as if weighing each word: “But that also means he understands our limits. He knows we wouldn’t act recklessly or destructively... not when these blessings place responsibility on us”

Eve then crossed her arms, her gaze hardening slightly: “We know the cost of imbalance. And above all, we know it must be avoided at any cost”

Daniel shrugged with effortless elegance, the gesture light, as though he were already used to situations like this. His smile widened subtly, tinged with quiet charm, while his eyes, partially hidden behind the lenses of his glasses, drifted toward the surrounding shops.

He observed the interiors through the windows with a quiet interest, catching details here and there: the soft lighting, the carefully arranged objects, the calm movement of customers in the background.

“Fair enough” he replied simply, his calm voice matching the natural ease of his gesture.