Anomaly Face Novels & Stories

“They classified you as an anomaly, Samantha. Power without a blueprint.” She leaned into my touch, her sass returning like a sharpened blade. “An anomaly? I’ve been called a lot of things, but ‘statistically improbable’ is definitely my favorite. So, what? Am I a glitch in the matrix?” “In our world,” I said, looking down into her defiant eyes, “an anomaly is someone the Council cannot control. You are the variable that breaks their math.” She smirked, trailing a finger down the lapel of my shirt. “Well, you know what they say about math, Lucien. If the equation is wrong, you don’t fix the variable. You tear down the whole damn formula.”

“Then… anomaly.” “Yes.” “Define… anomaly.” I swallow. Because this— This is where it gets worse. “It’s something that exists within the system,” I say slowly, “but isn’t following its rules.” Adrian lets out a low whistle. “Great. So we’ve got rule-breakers now.” “No,” I say. “This is different.” “How?” “It’s not breaking the rules randomly.” I open my eyes. Look at him. “It’s rewriting them.” Silence. Then—

“You amused me, Hera. We both are alike in so many ways, after all.” Hera looked at her sharply, wanting to snap but never desiring enough to let her hear her voice. “Hadn’t you noticed?” She raised her hands in the air as though in welcome. “We only move our mouth when it mattered most.” Shaking her head, she raised one of her brows, tracing the curtain of her hair covering her face. “So, you knew, do you?” “Of course, Hera. I can perceive you even from where I stand. I’m an Anomalous, aren’t I?”

Jenna's eyes narrowed as she quickly looked away. Meanwhile, I had no interest in arguing with her any longer. I pointed to a frozen frame in the video. "Alright, look here. Why did my face suddenly become warped?" They followed my finger, and surprised voices filled the room. "She's right. Why does Ruby's face look like modeling clay? Is something wrong with the video?" "Maybe it's poor image quality or the camera angle." "Wait, no. The more I look at it, the more it resembles an AI face swap! Look at the blurred edges!"

The rocks below our soles were making us slower. Slowly, as we got closer to where the ladies were, their attention also drifted to us one by one. And as I took a clearer vision of their appearance, something felt strange. Their faces were a bit, I didn’t know – odd. I was not judging the way they looked but if you saw them, you couldn’t just ignore it. It was really unusual for me. Imagined, each one of them had a face problem and some had deformities. They were not seemed to be sisters as they all looked about in the same age group. It was either – a bulging nose with large nostrils like those of pigs’, a cleft lip, big facial scars, drooping eyelid, and a protruding eyeballs. Even my frie

The woman looks to be in her late thirties but the more I go closer to her, the more the skin of her face changes before my eyes. One side of her face is normal and smooth with lesser wrinkles while the other side of face is more stretched out from years of extensive skin grafting and mega episodes of botched. Her eyeballs hang awkwardly to her eye sockets. “Is something on my face?” She asks softly but there's a tightness in her voice that makes my spine tingle in awareness. “No, There's nothing wrong with your face.” I stutter as she stares me down. “Come on Anita, don't frighten your goddaughter so mercilessly.” Aunt Sherry scolds and the woman bursts into a high end cackle.

Then he turned to the videos, running them through frame-by-frame analysis, checking for temporal anomalies, audio desynchronization, and face morphing distortions. Hours passed. Then he turned to me, his expression grim. “Okay,” he said, exhaling. “Sorry it took longer than I thought. Whoever did this… they’re a damn professional.” I leaned forward, bracing myself. “So here’s what I found,” he continued, voice calm but clipped.

He covered it with a cough. “Your research on cell lines was… unusual,” he said, leading me past labs where people worked in eerie, silent sync. “We’re interested in anomalies.” The word hung in the air. Anomaly. “I’ll be doing routine data analysis,” I stated, more to remind myself. “Indeed. The Cradle Project. Very routine.” But his eyes didn’t look routine. They looked hungry. He pointed to a desk. “Begin.” The day was long and strange. People didn’t talk to me. They glanced, then looked away quickly, like I hurt their eyes. One woman, passing my station, suddenly sneered, her lip curling to show her teeth. She shook her head and hurried off.

Another shriek, and this time Kronos backed up in horror as a giant centipede reared its head. It was twenty feet tall, its black skin hard as stone. Its legs were taller than the average human man. Protruding out of its jaw were two long jagged pincers that produced green ooze. Its glowing red eyes eyed the Abnormals that had dared to intrude in its lair with malice and hunger. “ It’s an Untri. We are so dead,” Thora whispered. “ What exactly is an Untri?” Kronos asked.

⸻ For the first time— ⸻ they didn’t move in sync with something. ⸻ They paused. ⸻ Processing. ⸻ Recalculating. ⸻ Because Kade didn’t fit. ⸻ Couldn’t be modeled. ⸻ Couldn’t be predicted. ⸻ “Define anomaly,” they said. ⸻ Kade smiled slightly. ⸻ “I don’t follow your rules.” ⸻ Back in the control room— something flickered. ⸻