We moved deeper into the sunlit streets, the warm quiet settling over us like a blanket. If yesterday had felt like walking through a haunted postcard, today felt like the town had brewed a pot of hospitality and decided to pour it over everyone.
A vendor setting up crates of oranges greeted us with a cheerful, "Good morning!"
Theo blinked at him, stunned. "He's… nice."
"Don't sound so shocked," Mira whispered.
Silva ignored them both. "Eyes open. We start with public interaction."
So we did.
We approached an older man sweeping the steps of a small bookstore. He looked to be in his late sixties, white hair combed neatly, wearing suspenders like it was still the 70s. Silva flashed her ID briefly— subtly, so it wouldn't alarm anyone.
"Sir," she began politely, "we're conducting a routine survey. Do you know anything about local urban legends? Stories about unusual sights, strange sounds, unexplained events?"
The man paused, leaning on his broom.
"Urban legends?" he echoed. "Hm… kids tell stories sometimes. Shadow on the cliffside, lights in the forest, that sort of thing. But I've lived here forty years. Never seen anything myself."
"Any missing persons cases?" Mira asked.
He shook his head. "Not that I've heard. Small town— we'd notice if someone vanished."
Theo scratched his neck. "Nothing odd at all? Even rumors?"
The old man chuckled softly. "Son, if anything strange ever happened here, the whole town would explode from gossip. Trust me— we're boring."
Silva thanked him, and we moved on.
I couldn't help thinking:
Okay… one friendly old man. Maybe not everyone knows something. Normal.
But the next one—
a woman watering flowers by her window—
gave almost the same answer.
"Oh, legends? Nothing serious. Kids make things up. Missing people? Never heard of such a thing. Is something wrong?"
"No," Silva said. "Just checking."
Then another—
an elderly couple walking their tiny, aggressively fluffy dog.
"Oh, nothing like that here. This town's quiet. Peaceful."
Peaceful.
Peaceful.
Peaceful.
We heard the word so many times it felt like the town was reading off a script.
[Curious repetition,] Aetherion hummed lazily in my mind. [Though perhaps everyone here simply shares a fondness for tranquility.]
'Or they're all lying to us,' I thought.
[A possibility. But don't jump to conclusions yet.]
We asked a baker while he arranged trays of pastries.
We asked a barber opening his shop.
A grandmother waiting for the bus.
A man unlocking a café.
A vendor selling handmade soap.
None of them had seen, heard, or even imagined anything out of the ordinary.
Which would've been comforting…
if the anomaly reports didn't exist.
Eventually, we found ourselves at a small park— benches, old statues, a playground with peeling paint. A few older folks sat chatting beneath the shade of a large tree.
Silva approached them calmly.
"Excuse me," she said. "We're collecting information on local stories. Have any of you noticed anything strange in the last year? Or do you know any old stories about this town?"
One of them—a short old man with a cap that looked older than he was—scratched his cheek thoughtfully.
"Well… hm. Strange?" He shook his head. "Nothing strange around here. Just life as usual."
The others nodded in agreement.
"No disappearances?"
"No odd noises?"
"No… anything?"
Silva pressed gently.
But each answer was the same:
"No."
"No, never."
"Nothing here."
"This town's peaceful."
"We're lucky nothing weird happens."
A perfect chorus.
We stepped away once Silva decided we'd covered enough.
Theo let out a long breath. "Okay, this is getting weird."
Mira nodded. "It's like everyone rehearsed their lines. They're even pretending to not know anything about all the thousands of missing cases."
"They're not lying," Silva said quietly. "Their body language is clean. No nervous ticks. No dishonesty markers. Maybe... the Anomaly might be playing with their memories."
"So…" I frowned. "They really don't know anything."
"Seems like it," Mira agreed.
I glanced around the lively morning streets— kids running, someone walking a dog, a woman chatting with the florist.
All of it looked painfully normal.
[If the town hides something, it hides it well,] Aetherion mused.
[But perhaps the core you seek touches only a select few… or none of them at all.]
'Great. Awesome. Love that answer.'
[You're welcome.]
Silva finally stopped at the edge of the main road.
"We'll split up into two groups to widen our search radius," she said. "But stay attentive. Even the smallest detail matters."
We nodded.
Theo and Silva split from me and Mira, heading toward the riverside district while we veered in the opposite direction. The sun was brighter now, warm enough to make the sidewalks shimmer faintly. People strolled with bags of groceries, chatted outside bakeries, walked their dogs, exchanged gossip.
Everything looked… aggressively normal.
Mira adjusted her backpack and sighed. "If the anomaly really is manipulating memories, then this town might be more compromised than we thought."
"Or," I offered, "everyone here just collectively decided to have the most boring personalities possible."
Mira gave me a sideways glance. "You say that, but I've seen you talk to the stove last night, so maybe your bar for normal is broken."
"It was one time," I muttered.
[It was three times, actually,] Aetherion chimed in smugly.
'You stay out of this.'
[Impossible. I am literally in your head.]
I clenched my jaw. Mira noticed. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I exhaled. "Just… mentally arguing with myself."
She hummed. "Understandable."
We walked past a small café with lace curtains and a sign shaped like a teacup. Two old ladies were seated outside, sipping something steaming and talking with the relaxed ease of people who had absolutely nothing mysterious happening in their town.
Perfect targets.
Mira nudged me. "Let's try them."
We approached politely.
"Excuse me," Mira began. "We're conducting a small survey about local folklore. Do you know any stories or… unusual tales about this town?"
The ladies looked at each other, then at us, then at each other again. For a moment, I thought we'd get the same "peaceful town, nothing weird, move along" script again.
Then the lady on the left—grey hair curled neatly, floral shawl around her shoulders—leaned forward conspiratorially.
"Well," she whispered, "there is a story the old folks used to tell when I was young."
Mira's eyes sharpened. "Really? What kind of story?"
The woman lowered her voice even more, as if the pastries on the table might overhear.
"A creature in the water," she said. "Something like a mermaid."
Mira and I exchanged quick glances.
Aetherion hummed in my head, intrigued.
[Ah… now that is interesting.]
'Don't get excited yet,' I warned him.
He ignored me.
The second woman nodded. "My grandmother used to talk about it. Said there was a… lady of the shore. Beautiful. Long hair. Pale skin. She'd sing sometimes—soft, like a lullaby. People followed the voice if they weren't careful."
"Followed it where?" Mira asked.
"Toward the cliffside." The woman pointed vaguely northeast. "Near the deepest part of the water. My grandmother said the creature lived there."
I swallowed. "Did anything ever… happen? Anyone go missing?"
Both women shook their heads immediately.
"No, dear. Just stories. Things to keep children from playing near the water alone."
"Legends only," the second woman said. "Nothing more."
Their eyes were calm.
Steady.
Completely convinced.
Mira thanked them politely, and we moved on.
Once we were a safe distance away, she breathed out a long, frustrated sigh. "Urban legend or not… that lines up with the old GPS data from years back. People always disappeared near water routes."
"Think it's related?" I asked.
"Maybe. But legends tend to exaggerate everything. We need actual evidence."
I nodded, though the words "lady of the shore" kept echoing uncomfortably in my mind.
[Oh, don't look so tense,] Aetherion drawled, stretching his voice like a cat waking from a nap.
[If it is a mermaid, at least she has taste. Luring humans with music never goes out of style.]
'That's not helping.'
[You never appreciate my art critiques.]
Mira glanced at me again. "You're doing that weird face. Thinking too hard?"
"A little," I admitted.
"Well stop," she said dryly. "It's unhealthy."
I snorted, and we kept walking—
sun overhead,
town calm,
streets lively.
But the legend hung in the air between us, quiet and persistent.
And for the first time since arriving… it felt like we'd found the faintest thread of something.
Even if it was only a story whispered over tea.