Minutes had passed since the game began, and Arthur was frantically searching through every document, record, or mention that could reveal the true name of the anomaly.
His eyes were desperately scanning the pages, looking for any clue, no matter how small. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, I was lounging on the living room sofa, in no rush, simply observing his agitation with an almost lazy indifference.
It wasn't that I wasn't trying to figure out its real name, but it was as if I didn't need to. I already knew, without a doubt, but for some reason, I just couldn't remember.
Its name was right there, on the tip of my tongue, ready to be said, but something—an invisible, strange presence—was preventing me from uttering it. It was as if an anonymous force was somehow blocking the words I knew so well, stopping them from coming out of my mouth.
Instead of going madly searching for the anomaly's true name, I decided to simply wait until, somehow, whatever was preventing me from speaking it disappeared.
Of course, there was the risk that it might never happen, but honestly, what more could I do? I doubted we would find a solution through conventional methods. After all, it was already clear that the conventional route wasn't getting us anywhere.
One of the first thoughts that crossed my mind was to try communicating with Nekra, even though she had said she barely remembered the other virtues. Seeing the little girl there, in front of me, flesh and bone... or maybe spirit? What mattered, in the end, was that she was there, so close, and maybe, if I put Nekra in front of her, it might awaken something in her memory.
No matter how much I tried, the message just wouldn't get through. It was as if an invisible force was blocking her exit from the neighborhood, preventing any attempt at communication.
Even if we decided to go to the facility to find Nekra, time was against us. With every passing second, the feeling that we wouldn't have enough time to return in time only intensified. In the end, it seemed like fate was already sealed—the end of the world had already won, or something close to it.
"Damn it! I didn't find anything in my files that leads us to a name or any useful clue. To start with, I don't even know which conceptual virtue we're dealing with here!" Arthur exclaimed, his face tense and his expression growing more anxious, his fingers restlessly flipping through the papers on the table as if they were trying to find something that could somehow make sense of the situation.
At that moment, I noticed that Arthur was about to chew his nails from nervousness, a palpable tension in his posture. His eyes then fixed on me, as if he was placing all his last hopes on my shoulders.
However, to his frustration, I was in a similar situation—though, in some ways, a bit different. I was convinced I knew the name of the anomaly, but, despite everything, the name continued to slip away from my mind, like a word on the tip of my tongue that refused to be remembered.
(Trying... we're almost there... we'll make it...) I sent mentally to Arthur, focusing all my energy on transmitting the message clearly and strongly.
Seconds later, I could clearly see Arthur's expression softening at my words. In the next moment, he sat beside me, letting out a deep sigh, but unlike before, he seemed much calmer, as if the weight of the tension had eased considerably.
"I think you're right" Arthur commented, a subtle smile finally appearing on his face. He looked at me with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes: "By the way, your voice is strangely sweet and melodious, something that makes me think I could listen to it all day without getting tired. There's something about it... it seems to have a calming effect"
Arthur's gaze narrowed even further in my direction after he said those words. Although I didn't fully understand what he was saying, a strange sensation took over me.
I couldn't hear myself, which seemed impossible since, even when speaking mentally, where you'd normally hear your own voice, I felt my thoughts but couldn't identify the tone or any characteristic of the voice, as if it were something entirely undefined.
It was like my voice was an absence, an intangible presence that had never truly formed. After all, I had never really spoken physically.
In the end, I never imagined the fog obscuring my mind would clear up with the simple act of lying down. However, unexpectedly, with a swift motion, I stood up and, without hesitation, began walking toward the exit door.
Arthur, behind me, watched me closely, his gaze fixed on me, but he didn't make any effort to stand up or follow me, nor did he try to stop me.
My legs moved across the garden now stretching before me, surprisingly beautiful, as if the world had transformed around me, revealing a haven of tranquility.
The weather was as pleasant as before, with the sun not too strong. Well, actually, not that it mattered much, even if the heat was more intense; changes in temperature hardly affected me.
In my current state, I was constantly in a type of balance, where cold and heat coexisted without me really feeling either one clearly.
It's like I could sense their presence, but without the physical sensation of temperature. It's a bit strange, I know, but what can I do? Anyway, that's just how things are.
Across the street, in a house ahead of the one I was in, two children—probably siblings—were playing joyfully on the lawn. The sound of their laughter mixed with the gentle breeze swaying the trees.
Suddenly, they both seemed to notice me, their eyes locking onto me with an expression of curiosity and confusion. I, instinctively, stared back at them, our gazes meeting and holding for a few moments, almost as if time had slowed down.
It was then that the little girl, standing next to the boy — who was probably her brother — smiled with pure innocence and began waving at me, the simple gesture but filled with spontaneous and innocent kindness. The boy looked confused, not fully understanding the situation, but still followed the girl's example. They both just waved at me.
I didn't know what had motivated that gesture, but instinctively, I did the same. We stood there, exchanging waves for a few seconds, until, just as suddenly, they went back to playing on the lawn.
Something about that scene made me remember two children I had seen in the village before Nekra's power turned them into zombies. Two siblings who, somehow, now seemed to reflect the same innocence as those two.
I don't feel sadness for their end; in fact, honestly, I don't think I feel anything about it. However, somehow, the memory surfaced, without any apparent reason. It was as if the memory had spontaneously arisen, among so many others I've kept in my mind, like scattered fragments of a distant past.
Ignoring everything around me, my eyes scanned the environment, stopping on the butterflies gently dancing in the air and the little birds singing joyfully, filling the space with their melodious sounds.
However, a gaze directed straight at me broke the tranquility. Turning around, on the balcony, I saw two pairs of golden eyes, exactly like mine, watching me with an unsettling intensity. It was the little girl from before, the one who called herself an anomaly.
***
(POV - ???)
(Hmm... Will she make it in time?) thought the little girl, her small hand resting on the wooden railing of the mansion's second-floor balcony.
She gazed at the horizon with a worried look, the gentle breeze tousling her hair, and the creaking of the balcony planks echoing in her ears, as if the wait was taking shape around her.
Her eyes briefly scanned the being below her, observing its white, translucent body, which seemed to glow softly in the light, with golden eyes, intensely vibrant, as if they held all the sunlight.
Two small horns, spiraling like a ram's, adorned its head, giving it a mysterious air. From any angle, one word formed in her mind: cuteness. The little being exuded an innocent charm, as if its ethereal and delicate appearance was an invitation to tenderness.
(Although playing with you is fun, we'll have real problems if you don't remember my name) thought the little girl, her eyes fixed on the vast blue sky above her, as if searching the clouds for an answer that didn't come from words.
(Just like "She" told me, this place is undoubtedly unique, and it stands out from all the others I've explored. Here, there's an energy that makes it... so incredibly alive) thought the little girl, a subtle yet genuine smile lighting up her face.
Once again, the little girl's gaze fixed on the being before her, which, at some point, had been surrounded by butterflies and birds. Her golden eyes blinked with a confused expression as the being carefully tried to avoid touching the small creatures that surrounded it carelessly. A half-smile formed on the little girl's face, but it quickly faded when a slight pain in her hand made her shift her attention.
As the little girl looked at her hand, a faint glow emanated from her skin. The small part of her hand, which had once seemed human, now displayed a surprising transformation: the flesh and skin had been replaced by something radiant, a material that clearly didn't belong to this world.
The little girl let out a soft sigh, feeling a mix of fascination and uncertainty as conflicting thoughts and emotions rushed through her mind.
(I think I have much less time than I imagined) thought the little girl, gritting her teeth hard to endure the growing pain pulsing in her hand. It felt as if something inside her was trying to break free, forcing its way out at any cost.
The sensation was intense, as if, to reach freedom, she had to tear through every layer of flesh, stripping away even the last piece, mercilessly, in a desperate struggle to emerge.
(Zentharys, I really hope you remember my name soon. I don't know how much longer I can endure this pain) thought the little girl, her eyes narrowing with worry.
She shifted her gaze to the being, who, unaware of her distress, continued to play joyfully with the colorful butterflies dancing in the air and the birds hopping around, creating an almost surreal scene of carefree joy.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
I blinked in confusion, my gaze, as spontaneous as the wind, instinctively turning toward the second-floor balcony of the house behind me. However, when I reached it, I found no one. The little girl who had been there was gone without a trace.
(That was... strange) I thought, trying to process what had just happened: (I could've sworn someone called... my name) The strangeness of the word echoed in my mind, as if it wasn't mine, and I noticed the disconnection the moment the syllables left my mouth, as if they were coming from somewhere else.
My name? Did I still have a name? I couldn't remember, as if the memory of who I was before becoming an anomaly had completely vanished.
It was like a blank page in my mind, shrouded by a dense and impenetrable fog, making it impossible to see what lay beyond. Yet, despite this obscurity, something remained: the persistent feeling that, at some point, someone had said my name.
(Zentharys) I said, briefly and almost hesitantly, the name that seemed to have echoed in my mind, as if it had been whispered directly into my consciousness.
Was that my name? But who had said it? A strange feeling took over me, as if a voice had echoed from the balcony, even though no one was up there.
The sound of the name reverberated in my mind, and without realizing it, I started repeating it in my thoughts, over and over, until, little by little, the word began to feel familiar, as if I had heard that sound countless times before.
Not because I was repeating it incessantly, but because, somehow, it felt right, even without understanding why. The name echoed in my mind, as if it wasn't the first time I had said it, or rather, as if I had already heard it before.
Somehow, I felt like I had already been called that way, by that same name, as if it were an echo from the past, familiar and enigmatic at the same time.