(POV - Emily Parker)

Deep within the underground facilities of the organization, the air was thick and heavy with silence, broken only by the constant hum of fluorescent lights. Emily sat in her office, behind a desk buried under a pile of forgotten files. The papers remained untouched, as if they had lost all importance in the face of what truly mattered.

Her eyes were locked on the computer screen in front of her, where a series of summarized field reports scrolled past — updates from agents sent to contain the recent outbreaks. A string of sudden, inexplicable events had thrown the entire organization into high alert. Deaths. Disappearances. Incoherent reports.

Veteran agents had been taken down, victims of different types of anomalies — anomalies that appeared out of nowhere and vanished just as quickly, leaving no trace behind, as if they had never existed.

Emily frowned, running a hand through her hastily tied hair. The bluish glow from the monitor reflected off her tired face. Something was terribly wrong, and she knew those reports were only the beginning.

A few empty energy drink cans were scattered across the desk — failed attempts to stay awake. She could barely remember the last time she’d slept. Two days? A week? She had lost count. All she knew was that it had been too long since she’d had a decent night’s rest.

“This frequency is definitely off” Emily muttered, pushing her chair back and stepping away from the computer. She massaged her temples with her fingers, trying to ease the pounding in her head: “Too many cases in such a short time... and the fact that we haven’t found a single link between them just makes it even more frustrating”

Even after putting all her effort into finding some kind of connection between the incidents, Emily still struggled to see a clear pattern. The events didn’t seem to occur at specific times, nor did they follow any logical sequence.

And yet, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t discovered something — there was a pattern. Strange, confusing, almost illogical... but still, undeniably a pattern.

Overall, there seemed to be an odd connection between the children and everything that was happening — almost as if... as if their fears were coming to life, one after another. Or worse, as if their nightmares were materializing in front of everyone, taking shape and flesh in the real world.

The fact that only the children survived these attacks was, in itself, a crucial clue — almost as if the fate of the anomalies was tied to theirs, suggesting that if something happened to the children... the same would happen to the anomalies.

It wasn’t the first time Emily had encountered such a pattern — and perhaps that was why she felt so sure of what was happening. Otherwise, why else would the anomalies that wiped out entire families spare only the children? The reasoning was cruel, but it made too much sense to be coincidence.

Unfortunately, understanding the nature of the phenomenon didn’t make it any easier. What was she supposed to do now? Eliminate the children, believing that doing so would end the anomalies? The very thought made her stomach twist. Even Emily couldn’t bring herself to commit such cruelty — it went against everything she stood for.

The organization existed to protect ordinary citizens from anomalies, not to sacrifice them for the sake of efficiency. And as she looked at those frightened, confused children, Emily wondered if she was ready to defy orders — again.

As she sighed, countless possibilities playing out in her mind, a sudden voice echoed behind her. She didn’t turn around — in fact, from the moment she heard it, she knew she didn’t need to. She knew exactly who it was, and that was precisely why she remained still.

“Things seem to be getting worse... You sure you can handle it?” said a young voice — somewhere between late adolescence and early adulthood. The tone was slightly mocking, carrying a teasing sort of amusement, as if the speaker enjoyed testing her.

Emily didn’t respond. She simply closed her eyes, trying to distance herself — even for a moment — from that persistent presence. The voice that had been haunting her for days seemed to vibrate inside her head, but this time, something was different — it sounded closer, almost whispering directly into her ear.

“How long do you think you can keep ignoring me?” it whispered, the words dripping with mockery and false sweetness that made Emily’s neck hair stand on end. She held her breath, motionless: “Even I’m going to end up hurt if you keep treating me like this, you know?” the voice went on, now dangerously playful, as if it fed on her fear.

Emily kept ignoring it, but inside, she was on the edge of collapse. Every time that whisper echoed, her thoughts were dragged back to the past — a past she had fought so hard to bury, to forget by any means necessary. And yet, a single word was enough to bring the memories back — vivid, painful, like wounds that had never healed.

“Whatever, I guess...” the distinctly feminine voice murmured, thick with boredom. There was a childish indifference to her tone, as if nothing around her could hold her attention for more than a few seconds. When she spoke again, her voice sounded distant — not in Emily’s ears, but inside her mind, soft and invasive, like a thought that didn’t belong to her: “I’ll come back later... when things start getting really fun”

And then, silence. Minutes passed in heavy stillness — no whispers, no presence. When Emily finally opened her eyes, her expression looked even more drained than before. The exhaustion, she realized, wasn’t physical — it was mental.

The truth was that the voice itself was the real source of her fatigue. She wasn’t sure when it had begun; sometimes it felt like the voice had always been there, dormant somewhere deep in her consciousness, just waiting for the right moment to surface — to take shape in the outside world.

As Emily sank into her thoughts, a series of firm knocks at the door broke the silence, pulling her back. She didn’t need to ask who it was, nor the reason for the visit — she already knew. With a quiet sigh, she straightened her posture and spoke in her usual calm, authoritative tone: “Come in”

As Emily’s words echoed through the room, the door opened with a soft creak. Laura stepped in — wearing her signature white lab coat, glasses perfectly in place, and her hair tied back in a rushed ponytail.

Right behind her, someone appeared—someone Emily recognized instantly: the unmistakable figure holding his elegant cane and wearing the monocle that completed his distinct look.

“Good to see you, Arthur” Emily said with a tired smile that tried to hide the weight in her eyes. She gestured softly toward the chair in front of her, inviting him to sit.

Arthur caught the cue and sat down across from her. He already had a pretty good idea of why he’d been called in—the dark circles under her eyes and the recent news reaching him were clear enough signs. He didn’t need to think hard to reach the conclusion he feared.

“I imagine you already know why I called you... or rather, why I need you” Emily began, not taking her eyes off the screen. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, the bluish glow of the monitor reflecting off her face as she typed quickly.

Hearing her words, Arthur shrugged, his tone sounding almost indifferent: “I have a pretty good idea” he said simply, then added with a faint sigh: “It’s hard not to, with the news constantly reporting the deaths these anomalies are causing”

Emily let out a heavy sigh at Arthur’s words; there was a trace of exhaustion in her eyes. Without saying anything for a moment, she slowly turned the monitor toward him: “See for yourself” she murmured.

Arthur studied her for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before shrugging again and focusing on the screen. The bluish light flickered across his face as he quietly analyzed the lines of data updating before him. The air felt thick with tension until his low, controlled voice broke the silence: “These are some pretty... grim numbers”

Emily gave a wry smile, the corners of her lips curling in that familiar mix of sarcasm and understanding. She knew exactly what Arthur meant, instantly catching the hidden reference in his words: “Yeah... pretty grim” she replied, her tone balancing irony and mild teasing.

Emily turned the monitor back toward herself and rested her chin on both hands, her eyes fixed on Arthur. For a few moments, she just watched him in silence—her steady gaze weighing every word before she even spoke it. Finally, she did: “The reason I called you here is simple—you’re the one who understands the Virtues better than anyone else. And as you’ve already noticed from the charts, this situation is... abnormal. Even considering that anomalies, by nature, are already abnormal beings, what we’re seeing here makes no sense”

She paused briefly, her tone lowering: “That’s why I believe a Virtue might be behind all this”

***

(POV – Protagonist)

Some time had passed since the Chronas incident. Thankfully, nothing alarming had happened since—no anomalies trying to destroy the world... or me, accidentally almost doing it again.

That stretch of relative peace let me spend more time with my sisters—individually and together—which was... interesting, to say the least. Nekra kept to her corner, as always, entertained with her dolls. Only now, they seemed to have learned a few new tricks: flying, doing flips in the air, graceful spins—the usual showy stuff.

Needless to say, when a scientist saw that, he nearly had a breakdown and classified it as a potential poltergeist case. But really, it was just Chronas’s dolls showing off. Then again... isn’t that exactly the kind of thing a poltergeist would do?

Anyway, things weren’t all that different with Nyara. She was still shy—something that’s basically been part of her since forever. You could say that’s just how she is. I spent most of my time petting her, and Nyara seemed to love every second of it, curling up against me like a little kitten seeking warmth and safety.

Eryanis, on the other hand, was... peculiar. Most of our interactions consisted of drinking tea together. And somehow, I always ended up doing it in this strangely... aristocratic way? I can’t really explain it—it feels like muscle memory or something.

Every time I sit in front of Eryanis, something in me changes, and I start behaving almost exactly like she does. The weird part is that my mannerisms feel even more refined, like I’ve been practicing them for years. Which, honestly, is kind of unsettling.

Then there’s Althea—basically a constant test of endurance. It’s been a daily struggle to survive her increasingly bold and effective advances. There was this one time I woke up with her on top of me, drooling and mumbling my name like she was having some feverish dream.

I nearly panicked—until I remembered that, technically, I don’t even have the parts for anything to actually happen. Of course, once I pulled myself together, I gave her a good scolding—and, honestly, I think she just pretended to feel bad.

Last but definitely not least, there’s the newest addition: Chronas. There isn’t much to say about her yet, other than the fact that we’re still getting used to each other.

Chronas seems to love and admire me deeply—which, to be fair, isn’t that different from the others. And I can say with full certainty that I love her too. After all, she’s my sweet little sister, and there’s something special about having her around.

Other than that, I’ve noticed that things at the base have been a little chaotic lately. There’s tension in the air, small disruptions in the routine... and Emily seems especially stressed about it all.

(Is something going on?) I wondered, as my fingers absently ran through Nyara’s hair while she rested her head on my lap.