What Is an Anomaly?
"Haah..."
Having concluded that there was no answer to be found, I flopped face-first onto the bed. I had no information to work with right now—none at all, really—so this was as far as I could get.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I'm exhausted. What now?
Just as I was on the verge of drifting off, something began picking at the window behind my blackout curtains, so I pulled them aside. I was already worn down to the bone from being trapped in that bizarre space until just moments ago...
Coo. Coo-gurru.
A pigeon?
That was what greeted me: a pigeon. But it was unlike any ordinary bird. It was far larger, for one—and its whole presence wasn't harmless and dim-witted the way a city pigeon's was. It felt sharp, keen, like a predator.
"Coo-gurru... You are Ms. Harin, I presume?"
"Gah—! Fuck!"
We stared at each other for a good long while, and then the pigeon suddenly spoke—in an earnest, gentlemanly register, a deep voice so refined you could tell its owner was handsome from sound alone.
"Ah... yes, that's me. Sorry for the swearing. You startled me."
"Not at all. It happens more often than you'd think. Now, on to business... You've just been through an anomaly encounter, haven't you?"
"Yes. That's right."
"One moment, please."
While I stood there dumbstruck, the pigeon—no, the Pigeon Gentleman—naturally compressed its body and slipped through a window it should never have fit through, then bowed with one arm... no, one wing, folded across its chest.
"Hello. I am a courier dispatched by the Human Dignity Committee."
"Ah... right. Thank you for coming such a long way. Would you like a glass of water?"
"I would be grateful."
Huh?
I hadn't been thinking anything of it, but the greeting came so naturally and so courteously that I somehow found myself feeling obliged to offer something in return. And a promise made to a Pigeon Gentleman who'd accepted my spur-of-the-moment offer was a promise to keep, so I poured some bottled water into a dish.
"Ahh! That hit the spot. My thanks."
"Ah... sure."
"If you tear this letter open, it will connect you to a storyteller from The Company who can provide basic information. You have ten minutes, so do be mindful of the time."
"...Hold on a second!"
Everything had been proceeding so smoothly, so naturally, that I'd nearly forgotten. I still needed to find out what the Human Dignity Committee actually was, and what this letter was supposed to be. I was going to use the letter regardless, but shouldn't I at least know who I was dealing with?
"I'm rather pressed for time... but you did give me a glass of water, so as your guest, I shall answer."
"I have an invitation from an anomaly here!"
"An invitation from an anomaly, from the very start? That is truly remarkable... Ohhh!"
The invitation Stalker had handed me. It had called itself a Great Anomaly, so it was surely something tremendous—and it might even serve as a badge of status—so I'd shown it.
"Haah... haah... Th-that is...! Forgive my rudeness... no, might I touch it, just once... no, that would be discourteous to one who received an invitation... but... just once, might I touch it..."
The reaction was far more intense than I'd expected. As if all that politeness had been a mask all along, the Pigeon Gentleman carried on like an obsessive fan who'd just received a handwritten autograph from their idol.
For a second I wondered if I'd made a mistake taking it out, but I pressed on with what I wanted to ask.
"The Human Dignity Committee? What is that, and what's this letter connected to The Company?"
"The Human Dignity Committee is an organization devoted to upholding the dignity of the anomalies and humans connected to the anomaly world—the Anomaly World. The Company, meanwhile, are the intermediaries who broker between reality and that world."
"More detail."
"For details, a storyteller will serve you far better than I can. First, allow me to upgrade your letter—to a thirty-minute one. And with this letter, you may exchange currency with high-grade storytellers to extend your time."
The moment I asked, the Pigeon Gentleman poured out every scrap of information it possessed. It didn't feel like flattery, not exactly. It was excited, reverent, awed—desperate to hand over just one more thing. Whatever state the Pigeon Gentleman was in, it was something woven from all of those feelings at once.
"That is everything I can offer as a courier! I apologize!"
"No... well, there's nothing to apologize for. Um... safe travels."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Haah, haah—it was panting just from looking at the invitation, and I figured it really might faint if I let it linger in this room or kept touching it, so I simply sent it on its way. Then I sat on my bed, staring blankly at the feather the Pigeon Gentleman had left behind in its instant disappearance, and at the luxurious blue letter.
Uh... what was that?
At best, I'd assumed it was some kind of noble's proof of rank. But that reaction... good grief, it was intense. Something beyond respect or longing—that was what I'd felt from the Pigeon Gentleman just now.
I'd better not flash this around carelessly.
If it had been an ordinary status token, I'd have simply kept using it. But this... this might make me a target in a whole different sense. If a mere courier reacted like that, the genuinely powerful might just fight each other to get their claws on it.
Riiiip.
After a brief round of deliberation, I tore the letter open. Deliberating wouldn't get me anywhere anyway—with no information, there was little I could do. Besides, the Pigeon Gentleman, for all that intense reaction, hadn't seemed likely to harm me. It hadn't looked like it had the presence of mind to hurt anyone in the first place.
"Hi."
Sitting on the bed, I tore the letter open, and out popped a fluffy ball of fur. Wondering if it was actually real, I gave the fur a light poke—my finger passed straight through, so it seemed to be something like a hologram rendered in lifelike detail.
"I've lost about half my memory, so I need basic information."
Just in case, I'd decided to play the amnesia patient. It would be strange, after all, for someone who'd been handed a blue letter by the Pigeon Gentleman to be asking basic questions.
"About anomalies."
"So Grade 5 is the lowest?"
"And Grade 2?"
"Rules?"
So that's where things really start to change—Grade 3.
Minor abilities. Strengthened or bound by Rules. Like Stalker had done—beyond hiding the exits, Rules could be turned toward amplifying one's abilities. Those minor abilities and environments seemed to send the number of variables skyrocketing.
"Hm... I see. Then what about Grade 1?"
"So a Grade 3 with clever use of the Rules can take down a Grade 2, but a Grade 1 is out of the question."
"And above that?"
Figures.
What on earth a Great Anomaly was—I'd been building up to this question the entire time. If a being that went beyond dominating its domain, one that rewrote it in real time and turned everything on its head, wasn't above that, then what would be?
"Change the Rules?"
That tracks...
I thought of Stalker, which had obliterated fire trucks and police SWAT teams in the blink of an eye without using its abilities, all while wrapped in layers of self-imposed restrictions. If it unbound its abilities and its restrictions... even if SWAT teams came pouring in by the legion, wouldn't it still win?
"Why not?"
The question was pure, genuine curiosity. What on earth were these Great Anomalies, that the Pigeon Gentleman had reacted the way it did? Was it something so forbidden that even speaking of it was off-limits?
"...Huh?"
"I'm not following."
"So... anomalies obsess over humans because humans and Great Anomalies are the only ways to raise their standing?"
"So, to sum up: to all of you, Great Anomalies are idols and gods, objects of worship and yearning—and objects of terror?"
I'm going to lose my mind.
If anomalies regarded Great Anomalies as idols and gods to be yearned for and revered... then I, who had beaten one of those idols and gods, was bound to attract an enormous amount of attention.
I have to keep it hidden.
Even with my voice and appearance concealed, the moment word spread that a human existed who had defeated the Great Anomaly Stalker and received an invitation, things were going to get very messy. I had no idea what the reaction would be if it came out, but whatever shape it took, it was bound to be intense.
"Plenty more, but let's move on to my next question. There's something else I'm curious about."
"What on earth are the Rules?"