(POV – Emily Parker)
Emily’s only reaction was to widen her eyes, her heart pounding hard in her chest as she stared at the shattered mirror at the center of the room. No matter how much she saw the scene in front of her, her mind refused to accept what was happening; no logic seemed to fit.
And yet, there it was—the figure, the being that had thrown her into so many doubts—now standing before the broken mirror, scanning the room with a gaze as lost and unsettled as her own.
At the same time, while everyone else remained trapped in their own thoughts, an unexpected laugh cut through the silence and echoed across the room: “Fufufu...”
Emily’s head snapped up at once. Floating in front of the mirror, the angelic-looking anomaly drifted gently, as though gravity had no claim over her. Her face wore a playful, almost mocking smile—the kind of expression you’d expect from someone who clearly didn’t know, or simply didn’t care, how to read the atmosphere around them.
“Well, that was to be expected anyway...” The anomaly tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting with mischief: “Dear sister, you look really scary when you’re mad... but you’re still absolutely adorable like that. I totally approve of more moments like this”
From Emily’s perspective, as always, the anomaly’s words were nothing more than a jumble of nonsense. In the end, tired of trying to make sense of it, she shook her head as if to chase away an annoying echo that refused to leave. Her eyes drifted back to the mirror—a nearly automatic gesture, though heavy with caution.
One eyebrow arched in doubt, reflecting the strange mix of fascination and unease the object always inspired. After all, everyone there knew perfectly well what that mirror represented... and the consequences of getting too close to its true nature.
When it had first been found, no one suspected anything unusual. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary mirror, both in appearance and function. But the longer you stared at it, the more unsettling the detail became: the reflection didn’t just mimic the movements of whoever looked into it. At some unpredictable moment, it would simply come alive, as though a hidden will had awakened behind the glass.
The anomaly would take on the form of your reflection—and perhaps that was the most disturbing part. It wasn’t just copying your appearance, but something far deeper: it seemed to know you as well as you knew yourself. It knew your secrets, the things you most wanted to hide, and used that knowledge like an invisible blade against you.
With sweet, seductive words—honey on the surface, poison underneath—the anomaly whispered irresistible promises, offering exactly what you had always wanted. And yet, every syllable carried the weight of a trap.
Though there was no concrete proof yet, Emily believed it might even be capable of granting eternal life. But such a gift would never come without a price. The anomaly gave you exactly what you desired most, only to rip it away in the next instant. And the way it did so... let’s just say it was always in unique, unsettling, and often unpredictable ways.
Still, despite its dangerous nature, the anomaly itself didn’t pose much of an immediate threat. After all, it was just a mirror: it didn’t require maintenance, it consumed no resources, and it remained inert most of the time. As long as no one dared to look into its reflection, nothing happened. In other words, leaving it locked away in a secure location was, in theory, enough to guarantee containment.
Even so, that didn’t erase the fact that the anomaly carried devastating potential. A single lapse—a curious glance, a fleeting moment of weakness—could be enough to turn a simple reflective surface into a lethal risk. For that reason, any handling of the piece required not just strict protocols, but an almost reverential level of caution.
That was exactly why Emily had been so surprised: the very anomaly that held powers far beyond her understanding had been destroyed simply by taking the form of the [Angel of Death]
. Deep down, Emily had already sensed that the [Angel of Death] was no ordinary anomaly.From the fragments of conversations she had overheard among the other three anomalies that always lingered nearby, Emily had gathered enough pieces to realize something was different. Every word, every whisper, carried an implicit reverence—as though the [Angel of Death] was both feared and revered.
It was clear to Emily that this entity didn’t fit into any of the patterns she had been studying. Within the puzzle of the so-called Virtues, the [Angel of Death] stood out as a rare exception, perhaps even a singular force, impossible to classify within the categories Emily was beginning to understand.
While she was lost in thought, Laura, walking at her side, let out a half-distracted whisper. It didn’t seem directed at anyone in particular, but Emily caught it clearly since she was so close: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this angry before... honestly”
Tilting her head slightly, Emily managed to catch Laura’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. There was something in that expression that made her hesitate for an instant: a hard-to-define strangeness, almost discomfort: “And, in a way... a little frightening”
Emily couldn’t help but agree with Laura’s thoughts. Ever since she began studying anomalies, she had understood that she lived in a world far more hostile and unpredictable than she had ever imagined.
With every new case, every report she read, the certainty only grew stronger: danger was everywhere, often hiding beneath the most ordinary appearances. In a way, she had already grown used to that feeling.
The many colleagues she had made since joining the organization were valuable, but Emily knew, deep down, it wouldn’t be surprising if one of them simply ceased to exist from one day to the next. If she ever received the news of a comrade’s sudden death, she might not even be as shocked as she should be—and that wasn’t coldness, but simply the harsh reality of their work.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
I watched Althea floating around me, the light smile on her face clashing with the storm boiling inside me. Her words still echoed in my mind, sharp as blades hidden behind a serene voice. Honestly, I can’t deny it: I was angry. And to be frank, even I was surprised by that.
I mean... for a moment, it felt like I wasn’t myself anymore. The anger consumed me so intensely it seemed to erode every trace of my identity, turning me into someone else—someone I barely recognized. Even my own inner voice sounded strange, distorted, as if it came from somewhere else entirely.
Honestly, I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be angry. I can’t say it was pleasant—in fact, it was far from it. It was a heavy, unsettling weight, something I wouldn’t want to carry again. In the end, I just let out a tired sigh before turning toward my little sister.
In a way, she was the reason for my earlier state. But no, I didn’t blame her. Quite the opposite—if I had to go through it all again just to protect her, I’d do it without hesitation, not even for a second, even knowing the cost.
Still, when I looked at her, I realized she was watching me as well. There was something strange in her gaze—not just attention, but a restrained tension, like she wanted to act yet was being held back by something unseen.
She seemed on the verge of saying or doing something, but hesitation kept her frozen in place. The reason? I had no clue. Honestly, it could’ve been anything—from some trivial thought to a secret she was desperately trying to hide.
While I tried to gather my thoughts, searching for the right way to shape my next words, Eryanis’s voice finally broke through. It was so soft it almost blended with the silence around us, but each syllable carried a hidden weight, as though filled with ancient memories: “You really haven’t changed at all. Even without remembering me anymore, you still treat me the same... as if I were just a child”
I blinked, surprised, struggling to take in her words. Was she... angry? Everything pointed to yes, but it wasn’t ordinary anger—the kind fueled by disdain or blind hatred.
No, this was different, almost bitter—like the resentment born when someone you trust deeply hides the truth or lies to you. There was weight in her eyes, a silent judgment cutting straight through me. But why was she looking at me like that? What could I possibly have done so wrong?
In the end, I was never good at guessing games, so I went with the simplest path: I asked outright, trying to sound casual: (Eryanis... are you okay? Don’t listen to what that foolish mirror said. It doesn’t know anything about you)
I tried to cheer Eryanis up, but to my frustration, my voice came out flat and dull. It was as if all the emotion I wanted to convey had been lost somewhere between thought and word.
Honestly, it sucked. Still, since it was telepathy, I figured Eryanis must’ve been able to catch my true intent, even if my delivery fell short—maybe just an echo of what I really felt managed to reach her.
Of course, Eryanis didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Puffing her cheeks in a mix of stubbornness and defiance, her voice rang out firm, though it wavered at first: “H-Hmph! Don’t state the obvious!”
Despite the almost childish tone, something about her expression had changed—an unusual spark in her eyes, a glimmer that made her seem more determined than before, as though an invisible force was driving her forward. She lifted her chin, facing Zentharys with a defiance that bordered on challenge.
“Don’t get too full of yourself, Zentharys. This isn’t over yet. You haven’t completely beaten me... not yet” The tension in her voice sharpened into sheer conviction: “Just wait and see. I’ll make you acknowledge me... no matter the cost”
After saying that, Eryanis simply turned away... But wasn’t her goal to defeat me? Then why, all of a sudden, did it feel like everything had shifted into a desperate search for recognition? I mean, why the hell did she want me to acknowledge her so badly? The change was so abrupt it left me rattled.
Maybe it had some hidden meaning tied to the Virtues—something I wasn’t capable of understanding yet. Honestly, I just couldn’t figure out her line of thought.
Nekra, who had been silent until then, finally spoke, her low voice edged with something sharp: “You’re still... on about this?”
Her eyes narrowed at Eryanis, reflecting a mix of judgment and disdain, as if she weighed every one of her actions. After a brief pause, she added in an even colder tone: “How long... do you plan... on pestering Zentharys?”
As always, Eryanis just huffed in response, as if Nekra’s words slipped straight through her mind without leaving a trace—in one ear and out the other. At that moment, Althea decided to butt in again, not to add anything useful but, as expected, just to tease Eryanis, flashing that provocative smile tailor-made to irritate her even further.
“Fufufu... you’re still just as cute and shy as ever, Eryanis” Althea said, a playful grin tugging at her lips while her eyes gleamed with amusement as she studied her closely. Tilting her head slightly, she added in a mischievous tone: “By the way... you let your true feelings slip a few seconds ago”
The instant Eryanis heard Althea’s words, a shiver ran down her spine, her body trembling briefly before freezing altogether. She went completely still, as though her own mind had refused to process what she’d just heard.
Outwardly, she tried to keep her expression neutral, but the tips of her ears, flushed with a deep crimson, betrayed the storm raging inside her. For a moment, I thought about stepping in to shield Eryanis’s dignity. Yet the truth was, I had to admit Althea was right.
It was clear Eryanis was acting out of some hidden purpose—something she, for whatever reason, didn’t want to share with me. I drew in a deep breath and, as her older sister, I decided there was no point in sparing her from this. On the contrary, this might be the perfect chance for her to face her own feelings—and learn to be more honest with herself.