I stood still for a few moments, letting Althea’s words echo in my mind. She was stopping me from going because... she didn’t want to see me hurt? Was that it? I tried to summarize what she said, trying to find some logic behind her concern. Honestly, it didn’t seem to me that thing out there was as dangerous as Althea wanted it to be.

There was something exaggerated in her tone, almost desperate. Yet, even though my suspicion kept trying to show itself, I couldn’t imagine any reasonable reason for her to lie to me. Althea had always been straightforward, transparent — sometimes even too much.

With that thought, I turned my gaze back to Althea, studying her expression carefully before asking, with a tone between curiosity and disbelief: “Are you being sarcastic? Because honestly, I don’t see how that could pose any threat to me”

I paused briefly, letting out a light sigh before continuing: “Besides... I’ve faced anomalies much worse than this one”

As soon as my words echoed in Althea’s mind, her bright eyes locked onto mine for a few moments, intense and inquisitive. The wings attached to the base of her spine moved subtly, as if reacting on their own to the emotion she was trying to contain. In that delicate movement, they brushed lightly against mine, causing an unexpected shiver.

Strangely enough, those wings — so beautiful and ethereal — are incredibly sensitive to touch. The involuntary caress awakened an almost childlike ticklish sensation in me, making me stifle a laugh as my body filled with a strange mix of nervousness and enchantment.

Just as that fleeting thought crossed my mind, Althea’s voice came softly — gentle like the whisper of a light breeze: “Ah... sorry if it sounded that way, dear sister,” she said, looking at me with a strange, almost melancholic gaze, as if searching for some spark of recognition in my eyes.

There was a brief pause before she continued, now with a more cautious, almost fearful tone: “Sister... forgive me if this question seems disrespectful, but... you still don’t remember, do you? Your memories... seem to be coming back incredibly slowly... and painfully selectively”

When Althea said that, my first thought was: what exactly does she expect me to remember? Honestly, so far, I believe I’ve remembered what really matters. After all, what could be more important than family? Every memory I recover — faces, voices, gestures — is like a lost fragment of myself fitting back into place.

Knowing that I will remember them as I meet them again gives me some relief, like I’m on the right path. Still, something in Althea’s tone, or maybe the subtle gleam of expectation in her eyes, tells me this isn’t the answer she was hoping for.

Maybe noticing the confusion on my face, Althea hurried to speak, her voice soft but urgent: “Sister... you... we, your sisters, are all Virtues. We were born from fundamental principles — pure ideas that took form, even though they were never meant to have bodies. We are the materialization of what should be just essence”

She paused briefly, as if searching for the right words, then continued with a more serious look: “I know this might not make sense to you yet. I know it’s a lot to take in... But you are special, sister. Extremely important. Your existence is essential to maintain balance — to ensure everything stays on the right path, even when everything around threatens to fall apart”

As Althea spoke, her expression grew increasingly serious — which, honestly, was rare for her. She was the type to joke even in the most inappropriate situations, as if humor were her armor against chaos. Seeing her so solemn made me realize how serious everything really was.

Instinctively, my eyes turned to the windowpane — the only fragile barrier separating the visitors from that thing outside. That anomaly with the grotesquely stretched, distorted face, as if pulled by invisible hands, kept staring at us intently.

The pressure against the glass increased by the second, and the first cracks were already crawling across the surface, cracking in an unsettling way. There was no doubt: even the glass wouldn’t hold much longer.

The thin, continuous sound of the cracks growing was like a silent countdown. The face — or whatever it was — pressed itself against the glass with increasing violent insistence. In other words, our time was running out.

So, in the end, I found myself returning once again to the heart of the matter — the question that kept echoing in my mind: (So, what other choice do we have?)

Hearing my words, Althea slowly turned her gaze back, fixing it on Nekra, who stood apart, with a calm, almost indifferent expression to what was unfolding around her. The contrast between Nekra’s relaxed posture and the tension in the air was clear. Althea, with a calm but firm voice, asked: “Nekra, could you handle this for us?”

Upon hearing her name called, Nekra slowly raised her eyes. Her gaze met Althea’s for a brief moment, and her expression tightened into an almost automatic scowl, as if a shadow had crossed her face. Then she turned to me, and when she looked at me, her face softened visibly, a flicker of recognition and maybe something more subtle.

Without saying a word, Nekra then turned to the windowpane in front of us, where the anomaly persisted in its persistent attempt to force entry, making the glass surface tremble lightly under invisible pressure. The air seemed charged with tension. Finally, she looked back at Althea, who watched her with a subtle, almost challenging smile, curling the corners of her mouth like someone holding a secret.

Nekra’s face hardened again, clearly annoyed, while her voice, always tinged with a melancholic weariness, broke the silence: “I don’t want to... Why don’t you do it yourself?”

Upon hearing those words, Althea kept a sweet, almost angelic smile playing at the corners of her lips. Gently, she brought one hand to her face, stroking her skin softly while making a gesture half innocent, half mischievous, which made her even more charming.

In a light tone, almost like a joke, she said, “You know I can’t go against my nature. I give life, not take it. That job is yours, as far as I remember”

Nekra didn’t answer Althea’s words. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed, piercing her with a deep scowl that showed genuine irritation. Her eyes narrowed, almost burning with a mix of disapproval and frustration.

After a few seconds of tense silence, her voice sounded again, firm and dry, like an unexpected blow: “No”

The answer was simple and direct, almost curt. I confess that personally, I also preferred that Nekra didn’t have to act that way. After all, after performing that act, she would have to go through the absorption process — something that clearly bothers her, even if she still doesn’t fully understand what that word means.

For Nekra, that’s just her duty, the reason she was born, a mission engraved so deeply in her that, for her, there is no choice or question, just the need to fulfill her destiny.

Anyway, faced with Nekra’s fervent refusal, Althea just sighed, long and silently, as if gathering patience. Then her face hardened slightly and, with a more serious and firm tone, she asked: “Are you sure about that?”

Althea’s words cut through the silence, catching Nekra’s attention again, who diverted her dark gaze to face her. There was an almost palpable tension in the air, like time hesitated to move forward.

Having gained her sister’s attention, Althea continued in a firm but serene voice: “Our dear sister wants to face... that” she said, making a subtle gesture with her head toward the windowpane.

On the other side of the foggy, cracked glass, a grotesque figure pressed its misshapen face against the surface, empty and hungry eyes trying to break through the barrier between worlds. The creature seemed to feel the fear and conflict on the other side, like a predator savoring its prey’s hesitation.

“Nekra” Althea continued, now in a softer, almost reverent voice: “remember the reason for our creation. You haven’t forgotten, right? It’s in us since the moment “She” shaped us. Etched into every fiber, printed on every breath... a purpose that cannot be ignored”

From the corner of my eye, I just watched the two of them. To be honest, the conversation had already taken a turn I couldn’t follow anymore. The words intertwined with references and secrets I was clearly excluded from. Even if I asked, I knew I wouldn’t get an answer — not this time, nor any other.

I had tried before, even with Nyara, who despite her shyness, shut down like a tomb as soon as I mentioned “her” — that mysterious figure everyone occasionally comments on in whispers, as if even the name carried some kind of weight.

Anyway, back to my dear sisters — Nekra, upon hearing Althea’s words, puffed her cheeks in a visibly childish protest, crossing her arms with indignation. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of embarrassment and stubbornness as she muttered between clenched teeth: “D-don’t mock... me... there’s no... forgetting...”

Upon hearing that, Althea let her playful smile — the one that always seemed to hide a secret — return to her face. With a mischievous look and a slight raise of her eyebrows, she said in an almost musical tone: “Great. So you must remember the rule we set about our dear sister, right?”

The moment Althea’s words echoed through the room, an inexplicable chill ran down my spine — a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was as if the very air around me had grown denser, colder. Instinctively, I turned my face toward Nekra. Her expression was shrouded in shadows, much darker than I’d ever seen.

There was something disturbing in her expression — a darkness beyond the natural, as if an ancient shadow had awakened inside her. Her eyes, always marked by that peculiar purple hue, now shone with an almost unnatural intensity, like living flames cutting through the night’s darkness.

But that wasn’t happening only to Nekra — Nyara and even Althea displayed the same enigmatic expression, as if sharing a silent secret. Seeing the three like that only sharpened my curiosity. What exactly did they mean by “rule”? The word seemed heavy with meaning, as if there was something important behind it.

Besides, why, after all, would that include me? The way they spoke made it clear it was something external to me, like a decision or imposition involving only my sisters. There was an implied tone, almost ritualistic, something ancient and unquestionable.

The room plunged into a dense and prolonged silence, as if Althea, Nekra, and Nyara needed time to absorb the weight of Althea’s words — words whose true meaning only the three of them understood. It was a heavy silence, almost tangible, full of unspoken memories and buried feelings.

Finally, it was Nekra who broke that suspended moment in time. She let out a long, resigned sigh, as if accepting something inevitable, then slowly stood up, her eyes still fixed on something distant, invisible to the others.

Then, with a faint flame burning in her gaze — a mix of stubbornness and resignation — she finally spoke. Her voice came low, drawn-out, carrying an ancient weariness and a melancholy that seemed to follow her for years: “Alright... you win... I’ll do it... for my sister”

After those words, Nekra simply moved. Not hurriedly, nor rigidly — just walked. One step at a time, calm, serene, almost graceful. Her movements were smooth, almost ethereal, and yet — or maybe because of that — her steps echoed strangely loud in the room, as if the sound refused to be ignored.

There was something about her presence in that moment. Something subtle but undeniable. Something... present. So present it was impossible not to notice. Even the thing outside, the one trying to force its way in, seemed to hesitate. It felt it.

Everyone felt it. In a few seconds, the gazes turned, one by one, as if guided by instinct, toward Nekra. As if the very space around had shifted. As if time held its breath. Suddenly, the air grew heavy, thick, suffocating.

And then, a thought formed in my mind — silent, primal, almost whispered — and I’m sure it passed through everyone there at once: (Something... something is here)