In the very next moment, I found myself surprised by the name I had just spoken. It had slipped out so suddenly—I didn't know that name, had never heard it before, yet it had surfaced in my mind as if it had always been there, dormant.
As I stared at the Virtue standing before me, something inside me insisted that the name was familiar. Logic said otherwise, but there was a strange sense of recognition, as if the name had been etched in some long-forgotten corner of my memory.
Even though I wasn't entirely sure, it was likely connected to my fragmented memories. Still, there was one thing I knew with conviction—something rooted deep in my consciousness: I knew that Virtue.
Her name echoed within me with a haunting familiarity: (Nyara) I whispered again in thought, as if the silent sound might reignite something in my mind.
Even though it still felt strange to say a name I somehow knew belonged to someone—someone I felt close to, yet who remained a mystery—it rolled off my tongue naturally. It was as if this wasn't the first, second, or even third time I'd spoken it.
There was something comforting about it, almost instinctual, like the name had been part of me for a long time. As I sank deeper into these confusing thoughts, a gentle, serene voice echoed directly in my mind, like a whisper from a place far away... yet intimately close.
(Nyara...) the voice began, repeating the same name I'd spoken just moments ago.
(I know that name... but I can't remember...) it continued, the tone uncertain, almost sorrowful: (I feel like that name means something to me... like it's connected to something I lost...)
My gaze turned fully to the Virtue. Her eyes wandered curiously around the space, like a child seeing the world for the first time. There was something pure, almost innocent, about the way she looked at everything—as if each detail was new and fascinating. Then, suddenly, she lowered her eyes and stared down at her own hand. I stood silently, unsure what she was doing—or trying to do.
Incidentally, ever since we'd returned to Black Lake, I'd noticed something odd had happened. For some unknown reason, Arthur was lying on the ground, his calm breathing clearly showing he was asleep. But he wasn't the only one—Oliver's two companions also seemed to have slipped into a deep sleep, though Oliver himself remained awake, silently observing the scene.
Aside from Oliver, the young boy named Adam and Eve herself were also still awake. I could imagine plenty of reasons why Adam and Eve hadn't fallen asleep—each had their own traits and peculiarities. But Oliver was the exception. From what I could tell, he seemed like a completely normal human.
At least on the surface, that's the impression he gave. Even the last time I used my special vision to observe him, his weaknesses were identical to any ordinary person's. There was nothing unusual about his physical makeup, no visible anomaly—and maybe that was exactly why he stood out to me even more.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem like I'd have time to investigate. In the next instant, a subtle presence began to spread through the area. I looked around, alert—but saw nothing. Still, I could feel it—something was there, moving around me. It couldn't be seen with the naked eye, but its presence was undeniable.
That didn't mean it couldn't be seen at all, though. With that thought, I activated my special vision. My eyes began to glow intensely, shimmering with shifting colors like bands of a rainbow. And then, as if a veil had been lifted from reality, the faint presence I'd only sensed before finally revealed itself to me.
It seemed to be emerging from the Virtue—or perhaps it was the Virtue releasing it. But what shocked me most was that, whatever it was, it had no color. It didn't shine, didn't shimmer, didn't reflect anything.
Even now, with its shape outlined in disturbing clarity, it felt like I still couldn't truly see it. Like its presence was there, yet absent from reality.
Lost in thought as I stared at the intense aura radiating from the Virtue, I was startled when her voice gently echoed in my mind again—heavy with deep melancholy: (Why can't I remember?)
In the next moment, she brought both hands to her head, as if trying to contain something building up inside her. The energy she was releasing continued to spread, growing denser and more shapeless, like a suffocating veil filling the space around us: (What's wrong with me?)
***
(POV – Emily Parker)
Emily had spent a considerable amount of time trying to digest the cryptic words from the entities. Still, she wasn't confident she could come up with a satisfying answer to the questions those messages had left swirling in her mind.
In the end, all she could do was get lost in vague and uncertain speculation. The entities themselves—the ones who had thrown Emily into that state of confusion and unrest—had already returned to their mysterious tasks.
As she sank deeper into her thoughts, Laura's voice gently echoed at her side, filled with unwavering confidence. Her firm, encouraging tone cut through the silence: "Don't worry, boss. I'm sure the [Angel of Death] is going to be fine. You, more than anyone, know what she's capable of"
At Laura's words, Emily let a small smile curl at the corner of her lips. Just as Laura had said, Emily had studied the [Angel of Death] more than anyone else. She knew her abilities better than anyone—though much of her knowledge was still based on speculation and fragmented observation.
Even so, one thing was becoming increasingly clear to Emily about that anomaly: the [Angel of Death] was constantly changing, evolving endlessly, as if her powers had no defined limits—defying any attempt to fully understand them.
At the very least, Emily could recall a recurring pattern from nearly all her past confrontations with other anomalies: somehow, the [Angel of Death] always came out victorious—almost like she was unbeatable. What's more, she almost always emerged with a new anomalous power, a previously unseen ability that seemed to be born from each battle she won.
How she achieved these transformations, however, remained a mystery—an impenetrable shadow that even Emily couldn't unravel. The only certainty was this: the [Angel of Death] was constantly evolving—adapting, growing.
As I was reflecting on that, the containment room door suddenly swung open. Victor appeared in the doorway, his face tense and chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he had run all the way there. His eyes, filled with urgency, locked onto Emily and Laura, who were still barely grasping what was happening.
Then, with a firm voice nearly broken by his heavy breathing, he said: "Emily, Laura, you need to see this. Now"
Both Emily and Laura showed confused expressions at first, but within seconds their faces completely changed. Without wasting a moment, they followed Victor with determined steps toward the monitoring room. As soon as the door opened, they entered without hesitation.
The environment around Emily was cold and nearly silent, broken only by the soft hum of electronic equipment. The only light came from the monitors, casting a bluish-gray glow over the surfaces, forming semicircular arcs around the central chair where Emily sat.
From her strategic position, she carefully watched every screen showing real-time images: satellites silently orbiting the Earth, hidden cameras placed at strategic points around the globe, and intercepted transmissions from both civilian and military signals, often interrupted by static and encrypted codes.
In the air, holographic maps floated with a pale blue glow, projecting areas of interest marked by pulsing indicators, revealing anomalous movements that defied any logical explanation, unusual weather patterns that seemed to anticipate unpredictable events, and recent activities of Interest Groups.
But Emily's expression as she watched the screens was deeply serious — or rather, it was Emily trying to mask the storm of doubts boiling in her mind, a thin veil over the fact that she wasn't sure what to think. Her eyes fixed on the charts showed growing tension, as if every line and number contradicted everything she had expected.
The first thing she did was abruptly turn to Victor, her voice loaded with urgency and disbelief: "What the hell happened? Why do the charts look like this?"
Emily carefully observed Victor's expression, which remained serious and still for a few seconds. Then, he let out a heavy sigh and shrugged, a silent answer clearly saying he had no idea what was going on. Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued and a little skeptical of his reaction.
With disbelief heavy in her voice, she asked: "You're telling me that, out of nowhere, all at once, hurricanes, tsunamis, volcanoes erupting, and earthquakes happening all around the world just started popping up mysteriously?"
Her eyes searched Victor's face for some confirmation, as if expecting him to deny everything, to say it was all just a big misunderstanding. But his silence spoke louder than any words — and it was a harsh answer. Emily let out a tired sigh. Deep down, she knew there was nothing left to do.
Technically, it was her job to find the source of all this; that's why she was there. However, no matter how hard she tried, all she could do was speculate. Simultaneous disasters, chaos across different regions... And from her point of view, there was only one plausible explanation: the new virtue that had recently emerged — Nyara.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
Although the Virtue in front of me was full of questions, the truth is I felt the same way. To be honest, I wasn't much different from her when I first woke up in that forest. I was confused, disoriented, and completely lost.
However, maybe what kept me from going completely insane was the fact that I still had something to hold on to — my "human" life, no matter how distant or fragile it seemed. That thread of memory somehow kept my sanity intact.
Even when I lost my arm for the first time, fighting one of those strange forest dogs, I managed to stay, to some extent, sane. Maybe because deep down, I still believed that somehow, one day, I would make it back to my old life.
But lately, I've been asking myself a lot of questions about what that "old life" really meant. Unfortunately, so far, I've gathered far more questions than answers.
Anyway, that's why I could understand the virtue and even feel compassion for her situation. Besides, if my thoughts are right and all virtues are truly my sisters, that's even more reason to want to help her. Because, even if I don't know how to do it yet... she's family.
While these thoughts tumbled through my mind, I felt a light touch on my shoulder. The moment I turned, I came face to face with my Alter Ego. His red eyes, cold and void of any emotion, stared at me with a disturbing intensity. I blinked, confused, tilting my head slightly, caught by a silent doubt growing inside me.
The next moment, my Alter Ego moved closer. I didn't fully understand what he intended to do, but I stayed still — there was something in his presence that told me he didn't want to hurt me.
Slowly, his forehead touched mine. Our gazes met for a few silent seconds before I gently closed my eyes. He did the same, as if mirroring my movements. Then, without warning, I was swallowed by complete darkness, as if pulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The feeling was like slowly sinking into a thick, silent liquid, a gentle pressure wrapping around every inch of skin. Strangely, despite the obvious discomfort, there was something oddly comforting and warm in that quiet embrace, as if the very atmosphere was breathing a calm almost like a mother's.