As we moved down the dark, narrow corridor of the facility, my eyes occasionally drifted to the metal floor beneath our feet. But it wasn’t the floor itself that caught my attention — it was the energy pulsing from some point below us, like it was coming from the very heart of the structure.

I didn’t exactly know what it was. To be honest, the first thing that crossed my mind was that it might be some kind of nuclear reactor, maybe a crucial part of the facility’s central system, responsible for powering the entire structure. It made sense, at least at first glance.

However, the more I tried to fit that idea into my head, the more a strange feeling crept in — something just didn’t add up with that assumption. It was like that piece didn’t belong in the puzzle.

No common energy structure emits that kind of presence... suffocating, almost alive. And frankly, as far as I know, there isn’t a reactor in the world capable of generating energy powerful enough to wipe out all life on Earth. This was something else — something that shouldn’t even exist.

Besides, from what I knew, I wasn’t in some alternate reality with such drastic changes that would explain how humans managed to build a reactor that powerful — one that could rival the devastating force of the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs millions of years ago.

That’s exactly why, considering all these factors, I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t a reactor or any conventional containment structure — but rather an anomaly. Although I’m still not sure whether this realization should calm me down or make me even more alarmed, the fact is that something is definitely wrong.

Even if that thing usually contains that much energy, should it really be rising this fast? Something isn’t right. The way the energy is building up... it’s abnormal, almost like it’s lost all internal control. And although I don’t know exactly how far this can go, one thing is clear: right now, it’s already gone beyond any safe limit.

With that thought in mind, I naturally turned toward where Victor and Rupert were. It was clear they were both on high alert, tense, watching for any movement. The environment around us was plunged in shadows — the darkness was almost total, making it hard to believe they could see anything clearly.

Of course, there was one important detail: both Nyara and I literally gave off light. My golden eyes glowed like tiny candles in the dimness, soft but steady, while hers shone with a strong, intense light, more like flashlights. So, even though the place was shrouded in darkness, we weren’t exactly in complete blackness.

Anyway, my question floated softly in the air, almost like a whisper carried by the wind, silently seeping into both their minds: (Down there... deep down... there’s an anomaly, isn’t there? What exactly is that?)

The sound of my question echoed quietly in Victor and Rupert’s minds. For a moment, they just looked at each other, their faces marked by a palpable confusion. But then, almost simultaneously, their eyes widened — as if an unwanted memory had suddenly been unearthed.

Victor was the first to react. He looked away briefly, as if needing to gather his thoughts before speaking. He took a deep breath and, with a tone mixing caution and unease, began: “It’s... complicated. There’s still no official name for this anomaly, but personally, I like to call it the “planetary weapon” Nobody really knows what it is, who made it, or why. What we do know is that... well, this thing has been activated once before”

Hearing Victor’s words, I kept my face expressionless, as if nothing had affected me. But inside, a silent confusion began to form: (Activated? For what exactly?) I thought, trying to process what that meant: (Destroy a village? A whole country?)

When Victor heard my question echoing in his mind, he let out a muffled, almost cynical laugh. Then his voice took on a sarcastic tone, echoing eerily: “If that was the full extent... I definitely wouldn’t have much to complain about”

There was a brief silence, like he was searching for the right words. Then, letting out a heavy, almost exhausted sigh, he continued in a darker tone: “From what I know, you’ve been digging into Earth’s history. I saw the books thrown around your containment cell... Remember the dinosaurs? Well... it wasn’t a meteor that wiped them out, like they say. It was this anomaly”

Honestly, for a moment my brain just froze after Victor’s words. Of course, I knew what dinosaurs were — everyone does — and I also knew their extinction story well. It was a catastrophic, sudden event, without warning, like the world was switched off out of nowhere.

By the way, the event Victor refers to happened near the very beginning of everything, shortly after I left the forest where I first woke up.

At that moment, still confused and trying to understand my situation, I started researching Earth’s history — not because I wanted to know it better, but hoping to find some clue, any detail that could indicate that this place wasn’t the same world I came from.

Deep down, I was searching for flaws, contradictions, something that would prove I was in a parallel reality, an alternate dimension, or even a poorly made simulation. But to my frustration, everything seemed absolutely identical to what I remembered.

Every historical event, every name, every detail... everything fit perfectly. The inevitable conclusion I reached back then was clear and somewhat unsettling: I wasn’t in another world. Strange as it seemed, this was, indeed, my home.

But still... hearing that come out of his mouth was just too absurd to digest right away: (... You’re telling me this anomaly was responsible for the entire Cretaceous extinction?)

When I asked, Victor just shrugged, like it wasn’t his problem. Then he answered, cold and indifferent: “That’s what I’ve been told. This thing emits a radiation pulse that wipes everything out... entire biomes vanish”

He paused briefly, like he was searching for the right words, but showed no real interest: “It’s small” he continued: “fits in the palm of your hand. Looks like a marble, but with golden veins that glow in a weird way, almost like they’re alive. But if you stay near it too long... you die. You don’t even have to touch it”

My first thought, hearing Victor’s words, was immediate: this thing was definitely dangerous. There was something in the way he spoke—firm, almost alarmed—that made clear the level of threat. And then, almost naturally, another question popped into my head.

I carefully chose my words, as if just asking might bring danger: (If it’s as dangerous as you say... why hasn’t anyone destroyed it yet?)

Rupert, who had been silent until then, was the first to speak. Serious expression, voice heavy with frustration: “It’s not that we don’t want to destroy it. Of course, there are limits to what we can do... But the higher-ups seem to have other plans. From what I know, they intend to use this abomination for purposes that, honestly, not everyone here agrees with”

Victor silently nodded at Rupert’s words, eyes fixed on some distant point, as if trying to organize his own thoughts. After a few seconds, he added, grave and thoughtful: “Besides... no one really understands what this anomaly actually is. And, to be honest... it might not even be from here. The most accepted theory is that it came from another dimension, something totally alien to our universe. Others believe it’s some kind of reset mechanism — like it was created or programmed to wipe out all life when things get out of control... or when the world crosses some invisible limit”

At that exact moment, a single thought echoed clearly in my mind, almost like an unavoidable whisper: (So... it’s like some kind of global reset?)

Hearing my question echo in his mind, Victor nodded slowly, a sarcastic smile forming at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah... some kind of reset” he murmured, voice mixing irony and unease: “Like a cycle” He paused briefly, eyes fixed on some undefined point, as if reliving it in his head: “And the weirdest part... it still seems active. Maybe in “hibernation” but alive. It’s too strange. It floats all the time, just a few centimeters above whatever we put beneath it. Never touches anything. Never”

Victor frowned as he said this, like he was still trying to understand the logic behind it. It was like the reality around that object refused touch, keeping it suspended by some invisible, silent force.

I stayed quiet listening to Victor’s words. Also, the energy I felt coming from underground was definitely not something ordinary humans could perceive. It was dense, suffocating, almost like reality itself was twisting beneath our feet.

The more he talked about the anomaly, the more my gut screamed that something was terribly wrong there. Victor, unaware of my thoughts, kept going. His voice grew softer, dragged, as if pulled by an old—and heavy—memory.

“There was an accident once... a “small” accident, considering the power this thing actually has” he murmured, air-quotes with his fingers, as if trying to downplay something impossible to forget.

“At the time, we were running a field test in an open area. The result? Well... all vegetation within a two-kilometer radius died in seconds. Trees, grass, flowers... everything turned to ash”

He paused briefly, eyes lost in some distant point: “And the people near the epicenter...” he took a deep breath, as if reliving that moment required effort: “turned to dust. Literally. No screams... no time to run. Just... silence”

Honestly, when I heard Victor’s words, I didn’t know what to say. Saying that event affected me would be a lie—the truth is, I really didn’t care. I felt nothing for the people who died, nor for everything that happened afterward.

Still, despite my indifference about the event, there was something about Victor that made me care... at least a little. He seemed to carry a heavy burden, like guilt was eating him from the inside, even if his words tried to hide it. And no matter how much I didn’t care about the tragedy itself, it bothered me to see him like that.

It was in that moment, wrapped in that strangely melancholic feeling, that the words slipped out of my mouth without me even thinking: (This feels... sad)

Victor raised an eyebrow and let out a sarcastic half-smile, the kind mixing mockery and mild annoyance: “I’m not that broken to need apologies from an anomaly...” Victor said, voice heavy with irony: “Besides, it’s weird. So please... don’t do that again”

Though my face remained expressionless, a subtle smile quietly grew inside, almost involuntarily. Well, that was exactly the kind of thing you’d expect from Victor—a mix of apparent calm with a restless mind. Still, my thoughts kept returning, completely stuck on that pulsating energy I could vividly feel, unsettling, coming from beneath the facility.

Nyara, beside me, stayed indifferent on the surface, but I knew that beneath that impassive facade, she too caught the same feeling. In the end, I took a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh of resignation from within me. After all, worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet—something that maybe won’t even happen—was pointless.

Yeah, even if it happens... well, I’ll deal with it when things really get to that point, like I always have until now. And somehow, that’s been working. Still, I couldn’t help but silently hope things wouldn’t escalate so fast, because deep down, no one’s ready to face the storm before its time.

By the way, although it doesn't really matter much for the situation, it's been a while since Nyara, for some reason I still don’t quite understand, intertwined her hand with mine. At first, I thought it was strange — an unexpected feeling that left me a bit unsettled — but it’s not like it bothered me. So, I just ignored it, letting that subtle touch stay there, without any big explanations.