For the first time all day, the house felt… warm.
Not physically — the place was still a little drafty, still slightly dusty, still very Pale Shore in its quiet oldness — but warm in the way a room feels when people finally stop moving, stop chasing shadows, and just breathe.
We'd set the food bags on the living room table, pushed aside a stack of old newspapers, and settled wherever we could. Mira curled up on the armchair with her knees tucked in. Theo sprawled across half the couch like it had personally offended him. I took the single-seater by the balcony door, watching the fog soften the street outside.
Silva, meanwhile, had retreated to her room twenty minutes ago with the stiff announcement of:
"I'll be in contact with the other team leaders. Don't disturb me unless necessary."
Which was Silva-speak for:
Something is off, and I want answers before anyone else worries.
We pretended not to notice.
Theo opened the last food container, peeked inside, and immediately wrinkled his nose.
"Why does everything outside an anomaly taste worse inside an anomaly-adjacent town? Is this a rule nobody told me about?"
Mira snorted. "Maybe don't eat the one dish specifically labeled 'experimental new recipe', genius."
"I thought experimenting was the Research Department's job!" Theo protested. "Not ours!"
"It's not contaminated atleast," I said between bites of my own meal. "Silva checked the packaging like five times. Guess our Supplier is somewhat valid."
"Yeah but Silva also said, and I quote, 'Don't trust anything in this town until proven otherwise.'" Theo pointed a dramatic finger at his food. "This included."
Mira leaned over and sniffed the container. "Honestly? It just smells like someone forgot salt existed."
Theo sighed the sigh of a deeply tired, deeply betrayed man.
"An atrocity."
I couldn't help laughing.
And for a moment, it all felt… normal.
Like we were classmates hanging out after a long day, not anomaly operatives waiting for something we couldn't even define.
---
"Still no clue on the core," Mira said eventually, tapping her fork against the edge of her plate.
Her tone wasn't heavy — just honest.
Theo groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. "How does a reality-warping hazard just hide? Shouldn't it be glowing? Floating? Screaming its existence into our souls?"
I lifted a brow.
"You want it to scream into our souls?"
"I want it to be visible," he corrected. "My soul is already tired. It can handle one more scream at most."
Mira snickered. "Your soul's a black hole, Theo. Nothing gets in."
"Thank you," he said proudly.
"That wasn't—"
"Doesn't matter. Still a compliment."
I leaned back, letting their voices wash over me.
Aetherion's quiet hum flickered faintly at the edge of my mind, like he was listening too — politely, almost fondly.
[Your companions carry good spirits, my friend. I see why you keep them close.]
'They keep me sane,' I thought.
'Especially out here.'
[Then cherish these moments. Calm seldom lingers long in places that hide their truths.]
I swallowed.
That was… reassuring in the least reassuring way possible.
---
The floor creaked above us — Silva pacing in her room — followed by the muffled cadence of another voice on her call. Probably one of the other team leaders.
Mira noticed and glanced upward.
"She's been on that call for a while now."
Theo nodded. "Which means the other teams aren't finding anything either."
"Or they found something," Mira countered quietly.
The room softened into a thoughtful silence.
Not heavy.
Not ominous.
Just… aware.
I exhaled slowly and said, "Let's not borrow trouble. If Silva found anything dangerous, she'd tell us."
Theo lifted his container in a dramatic toast.
"To denial."
Mira clinked hers against his.
"To coping mechanisms."
I raised mine last.
"To hoping tomorrow won't be worse."
We all drank — well, ate — to that.
The fog outside thickened.
The house lights buzzed softly.
And for the first time since arriving in the Pale Shore…
I felt a fragile sort of peace settling over us.
A quiet before the inevitable shift.
A warm room in a cold town.
A small moment where nothing happened —
and that, somehow, felt like the rarest anomaly of all.
Morning came too quickly.
My alarm buzzed at 5:40 a.m., and for a second I genuinely thought it was some anomaly alert, because I couldn't imagine waking up willingly at this hour. The room was dim but warm, faint sunlight slipping between the curtains.
When I pushed them aside, I blinked.
The fog was gone.
Completely.
Instead, the Pale Shore looked… bright. Quietly alive. Pale orange sunlight stretched across the streets, rooftops glistening faintly with morning dew. A couple of townspeople were already out— sweeping porches, walking dogs, carrying bags of groceries as if it was the most ordinary place in the world.
Honestly?
It felt like waking up in a different city.
I washed up, put my jacket on, and headed to the living room— where Mira was already sitting cross-legged on the couch, rubbing her eyes with both hands.
"You're… awake," I said, genuinely impressed.
She grunted. "Barely. Silva knocked on my door at five-thirty. I thought I died in my sleep."
Theo stumbled in a second later, hair sticking out like he'd lost a fight with gravity. "I heard coffee. Someone said coffee. Where is it. Where's the salvation."
"There—" Mira pointed to the kitchen island.
Theo trudged over like a zombie discovering purpose.
Silva came out last, already in uniform, jacket zipped, hair tied in her signature bun. She didn't look tired— which was the most upsetting part.
"Good. You're all ready. We're leaving in five."
"Does any of us look ready?" Theo mumbled into his coffee cup.
Silva ignored that, walking toward the door. "According to last night's discussion, all teams will cover separate quadrants today. We'll sweep the eastern districts."
Mira stretched, shoulders cracking. "No fog today. That's… new."
"Locals call this 'banal weather'," Silva replied dryly. "Changes every other day. Don't rely on it."
[A pleasant morning, if I may say. Quite a contrast to yesterday's gloom.]
Aetherion's voice hummed softly in my mind— upbeat, almost amused.
'Yeah. I almost feel like we're on a field trip.'
[Let us hope the rest of the day is as tranquil.]
I hoped so too.
We stepped outside at exactly 6:02 a.m.
Warm sunlight brushed the old wooden porch. The air smelled faintly of bread— bakeries already open and selling breakfast to early customers. A couple of townspeople nodded politely as they passed.
"They're in a good mood today," Mira noted.
Theo squinted. "Are we sure this is still the same town? Did we cross a dimension line in our sleep?"
"No, you're just not used to mornings," I said.
"That too."
Silva checked her tablet, cross-referencing a map. "We'll start at the commercial streets and work our way outward. Stay together. Observe everything. Interact minimally."
"Yes, Mom," Theo muttered.
"Would you like to walk alone then?"
"No ma'am," he answered instantly.
Mira smirked. "Coward."
"Survivalist," he corrected.
We followed Silva down a gently sloping road leading toward the city center. The early sun reflected off shop windows; bakery signs hung from beams; a few cafés already had tables set outside.
No anomalies.
No distortions.
No signs of danger.
Just a small town waking up.
It felt so normal it made my chest loosen.
And at the same time…
too normal.
Like a song holding its breath before the next note.
Aetherion murmured lightly:
[Even the calmest seas hide currents underneath. Let us stay attentive, my friend.]
'Yeah,' I thought, stealing another look around.
'But for now… this is nice.'
And so, with a soft yawn from Mira, and Silva leading with brisk confidence, our team stepped deeper into the sunlit morning of the Pale Shore—
still searching, still waiting, and still unsure of what hid beneath such serenity.