Unmade Chapter 37: Chapter 37: Difference

Read chapter 37 of Unmade by churro on NovelPedia.

The four anomalies, Evelyn, Caesar, Rose, and Tharion stood together with Levianthe towering behind them like a living mountain of black scales. Vale, standing slightly apart, watched them closely. Now that he had seen more of this world and its strange powers, his curiosity burned hotter than ever. He closed his eyes and reached inward, focusing on that quiet sense he’d been testing since he awoke in this world. A perception, instinctive, yet deliberate, that allowed him to feel the signature of another’s energy. As he tuned into the sensation, the differences emerged. Evelyn’s energy felt like a cool shadow: dark but calm, almost comforting in its weight. Caesar’s was enigmatic, twisting and swirling with currents he couldn’t place, mysterious and unpredictable. Rose’s aura felt natural, like gentle wind through trees, steady and warm. Tharion’s presence was soft, gentle in a way that surprised him, like a flickering candle someone was shielding from the wind. And Levianthe… Her energy was enormous. Not vast in quantity, but in weight like each mote of her existence carried the pressure of the ocean depths. Vale’s brows furrowed as he concentrated harder, trying to piece together what these energies meant. Tharion noticed immediately. The black-haired, tired-eyed man tilted his head slightly and asked, “Are you using a perception-based ability?” Vale blinked in surprise, pulled from his focus. He hadn’t thought his concentration would be so obvious. “Yeah… something like that,” he admitted. “How did you know?” Rather than answering, Tharion glanced at Caesar. “Hey, can I reach into your eye for a second?” Caesar grimaced as though the question was painfully familiar. “Well… it never feels great, but sure. If you really have no other choice.” Tharion lifted a hand toward Caesar’s face while speaking to Vale again, voice soft and slow. “We all need to focus to activate our abilities. You had that same zoned-out look we all get, so I assumed you were using one.” His fingers neared Caesar’s eye and space rippled. A bright, shimmering hole appeared in the air before Caesar’s face, no larger than a dinner plate. It warped the world around it, shifting colors and reflections like molten glass being stirred. Vale’s breath caught. Tharion’s hand slipped smoothly into the tear as though dipping his fingers into water. “What is that?” Vale whispered. Tharion answered without looking away from the rift. “Oh, this? One of my abilities.” He yawned lightly. “I can store equipment inside reflections. But to retrieve something, I need another reflective surface.” Vale’s mind ran through it quickly, eyes reflected light too. So a reflection in someone’s iris counted. The logic clicked neatly into place. After a moment, Tharion withdrew his arm from the shifting tear, and in his hand was a strange black glove. Unremarkable at first glance, yet deeply unsettling in a way Vale couldn’t describe. Tharion slipped it onto his hand with practiced ease. Everyone except Vale seemed to tense with anticipation. He turned to Vale. “Well then,” he murmured, walking closer, “are you ready?” Vale swallowed, unsure but trusting these people more than anything else in this unfamiliar world. He nodded and knelt on the soft sand. Tharion placed the gloved hand gently on Vale’s forehead. The tired man’s eyes fluttered closed, and the air stirred faintly. Vale closed his own eyes, focusing inward. Instantly he felt it. A presence, soft and warm, unmistakably Tharion had entered him. Not invasive, not painful. More like a small ember drifting through his soul, searching with impossible delicacy. He followed it instinctively. The ember moved through him, drifting with purpose… …until it stopped. It hovered motionless for several seconds, burning silently. And then, It vanished. The presence winked out like a candle crushed by darkness. Vale felt Tharion pull his hand away, and he opened his eyes, but Tharion wasn’t merely removing his hand. His entire arm shattered