Honestly, it wasn't like I had never considered the possibility of a Virtue looking different from Nekra and Althea. The idea had crossed my mind before—albeit vaguely. But seeing it with my own eyes was something else entirely.
There was something about her—a certain aura that hinted at what I understood to be a Virtue. Maybe it was the striking presence, or that indescribable feeling she gave off. Still, her appearance was completely unlike the others. The most striking feature was her size—much larger than Nekra and Althea. That alone made her presence more commanding, harder to ignore.
Unlike the previous ones, this Virtue looked more like a teenager than a ten-year-old girl—which, honestly, went against one of the main traits I usually relied on to distinguish Virtues from other anomalies.
Even so, even if the next ones also appear older, I don't think I'll have any trouble recognizing them. After all, there's something unmistakable about them—something subtle yet intense, like a veil of invisible energy wrapping around their bodies. It's the kind of presence that can't be mistaken for anything else.
So, I just chose to accept things as they were. In the next moment, as I turned my gaze back to the Virtue, I couldn't hide the expression of surprise that spread across my face.
The first thing I saw was a face—upside down—watching me closely. She had crept up on me silently and was now staring with those focused eyes, hanging in a way that made her hair sway gently in the air. I had no idea when or how she had gotten so close without me noticing.
Another thing that stood out was her hair—it didn't fall naturally, the way you'd expect. Instead, it floated gently around her head, as if she were underwater or simply ignoring the laws of gravity. It felt like even time hesitated around her.
As these thoughts flooded my mind, she spoke again. Her voice didn't come through my ears but echoed directly into my mind, soft and enchanting like a melody: (You smell... nostalgic)
I stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to process her words. I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of what I had just heard. But when I opened my eyes again—she was gone. One moment she was right there—upside down, defying gravity—and the next, not a trace of her remained.
Confusion settled over me like a thick fog clouding my thoughts. That's when I heard her voice again—coming from behind me this time, soft and almost whispered, but clear enough to make out: (Strange... even though I don't remember you... why does my heart feel calm just from your scent?)
I turned around instantly—but she had vanished again. I blinked and started scanning the area, but there wasn't the faintest sign of her. It was as if she had completely dissolved into the air.
I walked over to the exact spot where she'd been just moments ago, hoping to find something—a footprint, a trace of her scent, a shadow in the breeze. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. And in that moment, I seriously began to wonder if I was just imagining everything.
(I can also smell... Althea... and Nekra... clinging to you)
I blinked again when I heard her voice—still inside my mind, but now tinged with sadness, almost melancholic. There was something in it that felt lost, like she was reaching for a memory long fragmented and distant, yet still heavy with emotion.
It was like listening to someone try to recall a dream slipping away before they could understand it—a familiar presence wrapped in fog.
(Do you remember Althea and Nekra?) I asked silently, focusing as hard as I could to project my thoughts directly into her mind.
There was no immediate answer. The silence around me felt heavier than usual, as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for a revelation that never came.
The air carried that same ethereal feeling that always came with the presence of a Virtue—but this time, there was something different.
The energy was lighter, almost fragile, like a child's whisper in the fog. Volatile. Delicate. It slipped through the cracks like it was afraid of being noticed, painting the world around me with an unsettling kind of innocence.
As I stood there, I started to reflect on everything. There was definitely something odd about the situation. Based on what she had said, she seemed to clearly remember Althea and Nekra—their faces, their voices, even little gestures.
But when it came to me... there wasn't the slightest trace of recognition. If I followed the same logic that had held true until now, then she must be one of my sisters too. And yet, unlike Althea and Nekra, she showed no sign of remembering I existed.
While I was lost in these thoughts, her voice echoed in my mind once more—this time tinged with a gentle melancholy and a nostalgia so strong I could almost feel it.
It was like hearing fragments of a distant memory, whispered with a sad kind of sweetness: (Sometimes... I dream of places I've never seen, filled with colors I don't understand... and warmth that slips away before I can grasp it. But no matter how strange the dreams are, there's always something familiar... Whenever I dream, your scent is always there)
Her voice returned, now so close it felt like it was weaving into my very thoughts—even though I couldn't see where it came from. I spun around quickly, my eyes straining to pierce the faint mist drifting between the trees. Only the soft, flickering glow of luminous particles floated in the air, like tiny embers suspended in time.
(Maybe you... are like me?)
My golden eyes blinked for a second as I felt the question resonate in my mind. I understood clearly what she was asking. And yet, at the same time, I sensed something odd in how she saw me. It was as if she viewed me as just one—singular, alone—rather than part of a greater whole, if that makes sense.
There was a subtle confusion in her eyes, a lack of understanding about what it meant to be a separate individual, a distinct entity. It seemed like, to her, the idea of individuality was something vague, almost incomprehensible.
With that thought slowly spinning in my mind, I shook my head lightly in denial: (Not exactly...) I replied, my voice low and deliberate, choosing each word carefully: (We might both come from the same place, maybe even shared the same birth, but we're not the same. You are you, and I... I am me)
After my words, silence settled back into the room—heavy and almost tangible. I stood there, still, saying nothing, while the tension filled the air: (Every time I look at you... I feel a deep pain, a strange emptiness burning inside, even though there's no visible wound. I can't explain why I feel this way... I've never felt this before... or maybe I have, but I just can't remember. Everything's confusing)
I didn't really know how to respond to her words. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if there was anything I could say at that moment—it seemed like no words would make a difference. She didn't seem to remember me; her eyes, once so familiar, were empty, distant. And no matter how hard I tried to find a way, I knew it probably didn't matter what I said, her memory wouldn't come back that easily.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, focusing on sensing her presence. She was still there, even if invisible to ordinary eyes. Her aura hovered around me, faint and flickering like the fragile flame of a candle about to go out, wavering in the quiet darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, a delicate silhouette appeared before me. She floated a few inches above the ground, her body light as if suspended in water, and her hair flowed gently, waving in a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm, as if caressed by an invisible breeze.
Her eyes fixed on me—golden and intense, glowing with a deep light that carried an unsettling mix of sadness, curiosity, and something indefinable—a shadow of inner conflict. It was as if she was fighting a silent battle inside herself, a subtle tension twisting her essence, making her seem out of place, disconnected from her own being.
(I don't understand... I don't know why I can't remember... Why can't I remember...?)
And I... what could I say to that silent pain? What words, no matter how gentle, could fill the deep emptiness she carried? Even with all the anomalous powers I absorbed since becoming an anomaly, none had the power to restore what was lost.
The harsh truth was that, as much as we were alike, she was different. A child—maybe not in body, but in mind. A lonely child, scared, drifting in the shadows of her own being, searching for something she couldn't even define. And me? I could only watch silently, feeling deep down that I was lost too, shipwrecked in a sea of uncertainty as vast as hers.
The silence was broken abruptly, slicing through the air like distant thunder. Her aura, once soft and flickering like a wavering flame, began to stir with growing intensity. I felt the surroundings tremble, everything around her shaking as if the ground itself resisted the force radiating from her.
The space seemed to recoil, as if pressed by the fury burning inside her, making the air vibrate in invisible waves. The floating figure trembled, and her hair, once loose, rose like living snakes, seized by a violent, raw energy, pulsing with an untamable force.
(Why are you here...?) Her voice echoed in my mind, now distorted, loaded with palpable rage that made every word vibrate like a sharp blade: (Why does your scent haunt me?) she continued, frustration knotting her speech: (Why do I feel all this... if I don't remember you?)
She screamed without sound, yet the impact reverberated through the air around us. The environment cracked as if the very space was about to tear apart. The particles composing the air swirled into a vortex around her, as if sucked inside her, feeding a growing instability that seemed ready to explode at any moment.
(You made me forget, didn't you?!) she accused, her golden eyes blazing, trembling with anger and confusion: (You did something... took something from me!) Her voice swung between despair and fury: (I hate you for this! I hate you because you exist... and the worst part is, I don't even know why!)
She reached out her hand toward me, and the space around us seemed to fold, like reality flickering for a moment. A current of energy tore the air like an invisible blade, slicing just inches from my face, hot and buzzing like a warning. Still, I stayed still. I knew she didn't understand what she felt—and that was exactly what was consuming her inside.
(Every time I look at you, something inside me screams desperately! My chest tightens, it hurts like it's going to tear apart... my head spins, confused, like I'm trapped in a whirlwind. But there's no memory! No face, no name... there's only you. Just you!)
Another wave of energy burst from her, so intense that cracks appeared in the ground beneath, even though she hovered in the air. Her form began to falter—not in flesh or bone, but in essence. It was as if her soul was unraveling, fragmenting under the weight of the chaos consuming her, unable to hold itself together.
(If I destroy you... maybe the pain will finally stop. Maybe I can sleep a whole night without being dragged through dreams full of shadows and your scent. Maybe, finally... I can tear you out of me. Forget you forever)
And in that moment, I finally saw it: it wasn't pure hatred. It was despair. A pain so deep, so overwhelming, that it twisted into anger. Before me stood just a scared child, trying to erase something she couldn't understand.
Her eyes trembled—not with fury, but with fear—fear of what she felt, of what she was, of what she had lost. Still... she seemed determined to kill me. Because deep down, that was the only way her broken mind could find to silence its own pain.