Anomaly

Chapter 402 – Worship of the true gods [48]

(POV – Protagonist)

Right now, I’m perched on top of a building about seven stories high. I sit on the edge, legs dangling over the void, my feet swinging in an uneven rhythm without me even noticing, just a reflection of how scattered my mind is, lost in thought.

The wind blows constantly at this height, brushing against my body and gently ruffling my hair. It’s strange... this might be one of the few upsides of having a body that’s practically frozen in time. I don’t feel the cold, and the heat doesn’t bother me either.

Sensations that would be unavoidable for anyone else in a situation like this... for me, they simply don’t exist. No shivers, no discomfort, just a strange kind of neutrality. For a moment, I let my gaze drift across the horizon, watching the city far below. But... putting those thoughts aside, the current situation is far from pleasant.

The force field, whatever that thing actually is, keeps expanding exponentially. With every passing minute, its edge moves faster. After a series of careful experiments, I managed to reach a few practical conclusions. Inanimate objects, plant life, buildings, cars, they don’t suffer any severe damage when they come into contact with the sphere.

There are effects, though. Some vehicles show slight deformations, like they’ve been compressed by some kind of pressure. Pots crack with sharp, dry snaps, and certain buildings develop fractures in their structures. Still, nothing that suggests immediate collapse or total destruction. It’s almost like the field simply... rejects non-living matter.

But when it comes to living organisms, the situation is completely different. Based on what happened with my arm, I can say with unsettling certainty: anything alive that enters the sphere simply disappears. There’s no visible transition, no signs of destruction or decay. It just... ceases to exist.

I have no idea how this thing distinguishes between what’s alive and what isn’t. There are no visible sensors, no detectable energy beyond the distortion in the air itself. And yet, the difference in how it behaves is undeniable.

I tested it three more times after what happened to my arm, changing the conditions, the organisms, and the exposure time. Every single time, the result was exactly the same. Instant. Absolute. Whatever this thing is, it doesn’t destroy, it erases.

It’s not like that thing is devouring everything around it. From what I’ve been able to piece together so far, based on my limited observations, what’s happening is much worse: any form of life that comes into direct contact with that field... simply stops existing.

It’s not just the body that disappears, it’s like the very presence is wiped out, like an error being corrected in reality. The field doesn’t consume. It nullifies. Everything it touches is undone in a silent, absolute way, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Because of that, evacuating the nearby civilians was a nightmare. It wasn’t simple at all, many of them were inside their homes, hiding, confused, or completely unaware of what was going on.

I had to break down doors, shout, drag some of them out by force. In the end, I managed to gather everyone at a high point: the rooftop of one of the countless buildings in the city... more specifically, the tallest one.

From up here, the view is as wide as it is cruel. Everyone can see it. The imminent destruction stretching across the horizon like an invisible tide, swallowing everything in silence. And, as expected... the atmosphere up here is anything but calm.

The air feels heavy, thick with fear and despair. Some people are crying, others are completely breaking down, and a few just stare into nothingness, unable to process what’s in front of them. Children cling to their parents, and the parents... well, not all of them know what to do.

Some of the adults, though, seem more irritated than afraid. Irritated at me. Their stares are hard, accusing. To them, there’s a clear culprit behind all of this. Based on what they believe, or maybe what they were taught, anomalies are inherently destructive, dangerous by nature. And I... am an anomaly.

So, in their minds, the conclusion is simple. This disaster has something to do with me. And, to be honest, they’re not completely wrong. But they’re not exactly right either. If there’s someone who deserves to carry the blame for this... it’s that damn priest.

A delusional idiot who decided to mess with things that were clearly way beyond his understanding, and now, all of us are paying the price for it.

Anyway... I don’t really care that much about the fact that some people don’t like me. If even Jesus couldn’t please everyone, who am I to pull that off? That would be arrogant, to say the least. Honestly, now that I think about it, I actually prefer it this way.

It’s better than having a bunch of weirdos putting me on a pedestal for something I didn’t even do. I mean... not dying multiple times and saving my sisters, does that somehow count as something worthy of being called divine? Because, honestly, it doesn’t feel like it.

A real god... well, as far as I know, should be able to fix all of this with a single thought. No effort, no hesitation, no failure. Just a simple act of will, and everything would go back to normal... Yeah. That was a terrible example. Because, deep down, there’s something even stranger about all of this: sometimes, somehow... I can actually do exactly that.

My scattered thoughts suddenly snap back into place when something hits the back of my neck, light, but enough to pull me out of my daze. I blink a few times, still gathering myself, before slowly turning around.

My gaze drops to the ground, where I spot a crumpled piece of paper, folded over itself into a small, uneven ball. For a brief moment, I just stare at it, as if trying to make sense of what just happened. Then I look up.

That’s when I see him. A tall man with tan skin, sharp features, and light-colored eyes that now gleam in a hazy, unfocused way. He stares at me with raw anger, there’s no doubt he’s the one who threw it. His body sways slightly, unable to stay completely steady. The strong smell of alcohol reaches me before he even opens his mouth.

He’s completely wasted: “Ahh... so... hic... so you and your little buddies finally decided, huh?” His voice comes out slurred, uneven, tripping over itself. He takes a step forward, nearly losing his balance, but manages to steady himself: “Show... show those... those freaky monster faces already, is that it?”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it, just pure contempt: “You... you little freak...” he spits the words out like they taste bitter: “Go back... go back to hell, you hear me? Back to whatever hole you crawled out of!”

Another step. Closer now. His gaze weighs on me, carrying something beyond drunkenness, fear, maybe... disguised as hatred: “Hic... leave us alone... leave humans the hell alone...” His voice falters for a moment, but he pushes on, louder, more aggressive: “We don’t want you around... we really don’t! Especially not... not anywhere near our kids...”

He points at me with a shaky finger, his hand wavering in the air: “Hic... you hearing me, or do I gotta say it again?!” he growls, stepping even closer, invading my space: “Get lost... you... you freak...”

Well, the man was clearly pissed at me, that much was undeniable, but aside from the aggressive tone and unstable posture, he hadn’t actually caused me any real harm. In the end, there wasn’t much reason for me to truly care. Around me, the atmosphere had shifted in a subtle but noticeable way.

People nearby watched the scene with wide, tense eyes, as if expecting something worse to happen at any second. Some glanced back and forth between me and the man, as though trying to guess who would make the first move. Mothers pulled their children closer, quietly guiding them away, while others simply froze, caught somewhere between fear and curiosity.

They were waiting for a reaction from me. And honestly, striking back wouldn’t exactly be a bad idea. A quick response would put this man in his place and end things without any room for doubt. Still... it wouldn’t be the smartest move.

There were too many people around. My goal definitely doesn’t involve dragging my reputation through the mud over some out-of-control drunk. If anything, I’ve been trying to keep my image... neutral. Maybe even slightly positive, if possible.

Right now, public opinion about me is divided. Most people see me as neutral, distant, with no real interest in humans. A smaller group believes that, deep down, I actually want to protect them. A rather optimistic idea.

And of course, there’s the other side... those who are convinced that sooner or later, I’ll try to destroy humanity. In the end, you can’t please everyone. I accepted that a long time ago.

“You... you really think you can just ignore me, huh? Hic... just cause you’ve got those little powers... think you’re better than me? Huh?!” the man shouts, his voice thick and tangled as he lurches toward me, nearly tripping over his own feet.

His steps are uneven, dragging, like the ground itself is shifting beneath him, yet still driven by a blind, stubborn rage. A half-empty bottle dangles loosely in his hand, the remaining liquid sloshing out with each abrupt movement. As he gets closer, the smell of alcohol is so strong it almost burns my nose, hot and suffocating, mixed with the sour stench of sweat clinging to his wrinkled clothes.

“You think you can just... hic... turn your back on me?! Just ignore me like that?!” He lets out a crooked laugh, more like an irritated choke than anything else, before trying to clench his fists, his fingers taking a second too long to obey: “I’ll... I’ll show you... hic... what happens when you try to ignore me, you... you freak...” His eyes are glassy, unfocused, unable to lock onto anything properly, but his intent is clear.

And then he lunges. Clumsy. Inaccurate. Dangerous only to himself. Now, a simple little lesson: when a completely drunk man decides to run, or something close to it, toward someone sitting at the edge of an absurdly tall building... the outcome tends to be predictable.

His foot slips under his own momentum. His body, already off balance, tilts too far forward. For a brief moment, there’s silence. And then. He goes right over.

The scream that follows is short, swallowed by the wind, disappearing almost as quickly as it came. Far below, way down there, the city lights continue on, indifferent, as if nothing had happened. I didn’t even have to move.