One afternoon, as I was returning home after training, a firm knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. When I opened it, I found Aura smiling and holding a small folder in her hand.

—May I come in? —she asked, lifting the folder slightly.

—Of course, come in. What do you have there? —I replied, curious, as I invited her to sit in the living room.

Aura placed the folder on the table and slid it toward me.

—It’s something that’s finally ready.

Cautiously, I opened the folder and found an identification card inside. As I took it in my hands, I noticed it contained my details: my full name, a recent photo, and at the bottom, a word that made my heart stop for a moment.

Category: Divine.

—Divine...? —I repeated softly, my eyes fixed on the card as I tried to process what I was seeing.

Aura smiled broadly at my expression.

—Yes, Seraphine. Until now, you hadn’t received your identification because the higher-ups had an internal conflict about deciding your rank. They didn’t know how to classify you.

—Why? —I asked, looking at Aura in genuine surprise—. Wasn’t it enough that I didn’t go on missions alone?

Aura shook her head.

—Your case is unique. You don’t need to contain aura within your body to control it, like the rest of us do. You can manipulate the surrounding aura with an ease we’ve never seen before. And your ability to absorb negative aura is something no one else can do. The higher-ups realized that your capabilities have unprecedented potential. That’s why they decided you deserve to be in the highest category.

I was silent for a moment, looking again at my identification. The word “Divine” glimmered as a reminder of everything I had achieved and the purpose I had sought for so long.

—So... does this mean I’ll start doing missions on my own? —I finally asked, lifting my gaze toward Aura.

—That’s right. —Aura nodded, her tone a mix of pride and slight concern—. While you can still work with me and other anómalas as a team, you now have the autonomy to carry out missions on your own.

—And you? —I asked, looking at her intently—. Are you also in the Divine category?

Aura smiled warmly and nodded.

—Yes. We’re the only ones in this category... and I have to admit, I’m glad we’re both women. It’s an honor to share this rank with you, Seraphine.

Her words filled my heart with pride and gratitude. I closed my eyes for a moment, bowing my head slightly as I murmured a brief prayer.

—Thank you, my God, for allowing me to reach this point... —I said softly, feeling a warmth spread throughout my being—. I promise to do everything in my power to honor this purpose You’ve given me.

When I looked up, my eyes shone with determination.

—Thank you, Aura, for everything you’ve done for me. I promise not to let you down.

Aura extended her hand, and I took it firmly, sealing with that gesture the promise that I would continue to grow, guided by my faith and the desire to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Shortly afterward, I was informed that I needed to return to the United States, as I was a foreign anómala from there and was required to go back.

Returning to the United States filled me with mixed emotions. On one hand, it hurt to leave Mexico, the place where I found my purpose and Aura, who had become like a sister to me. But I also knew that returning to my country was the right thing to do. The farewell with Aura was difficult. We both promised to stay in touch and support each other, no matter the distance.

When I arrived at the academy, I was surprised by the welcome. A group of anómalas greeted me with unexpected energy.

I thanked them for the welcome, but I was clear from the start.

—Thank you for the reception, but I prefer to stay out of the academy. I can receive missions by phone and manage my life from home.

And so I did. In a short time, I found a modest house in New Orleans. Nothing ostentatious, just a place I could call home. I decorated it to my taste, with simple but meaningful details. Here, I felt I could start building something bigger, something that went beyond my life as an anómala.

There were many things I needed to clarify about my new position, so I requested a meeting with the higher-ups. They brought me to an elegant, cold room filled with seriousness. In front of me were three people who exuded authority.

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Eleanor, a woman with silver hair who spoke with an almost intimidating calm.

Michael, a straightforward man who seemed to analyze every word I said.

Alaric, who barely spoke but had eyes that seemed to absorb everything.

The three introduced themselves, stating that meeting directly wasn’t something they did every day and that only Aura and I had met them face-to-face.

I took a deep breath before speaking.

—Now that I have this identification and my category is official, I want to know—how much freedom do I have in my decisions as an anómala?

Eleanor responded first, her tone kind but firm.

—You have complete freedom, Seraphine. What you do with your abilities and your time is entirely up to you. We trust your strong ideals and that you always strive to do what’s right.

Michael intervened, clasping his hands on the table.

—However, there’s something you must consider. Your actions don’t just affect the anómalas and anomalies, but also the balance of the world. If people were to learn of our existence, the consequences would be catastrophic. Society isn’t ready for that.

I nodded, letting his words sink in. Eleanor added:

—Please act with caution. If you ever decide to take a path that might be reckless, remember that the impact of your decisions could be greater than you imagine.

I thanked them for their time and returned home with many things on my mind.

That night, sitting in my living room, my mind kept circling back to the same thought: the children. Those trapped in orphanages, convents, or in situations of abandonment. Children like my friends and me, who had faced so much pain with no one to rescue them.

I decided I wouldn’t just be an anómala fighting against evil, but someone who could prevent others from living what I had endured. I began visiting orphanages and shelters. With money from my bank account—the same one the government provided as part of my income as an anómala—I bought food, clothes, and toys for those children.

Soon, my idea grew into something larger. Why not create a shelter? A place where those children could grow up protected, with love and opportunities. I hired architects, social workers, and all the necessary people to turn my vision into reality.

The visits to orphanages and convents weren’t as straightforward as I had imagined. My first stop was at a small orphanage in southern Louisiana, a place that seemed unremarkable at first. But as soon as I stepped through the door, the atmosphere changed. It was heavy, dark, and the sound of children laughing was absent. Instead, I heard screams, muffled sobs, and the echo of cold orders.

Upon entering, the caretakers greeted me with distrust.

—Who are you, and what are you doing here? —asked an older woman, her voice rough.

—I came to check on the children —I replied, showing my identification.

—We don’t need anyone meddling in our business —she said, attempting to shut the door in my face.

I didn’t let her. My eyes scanned the interior, and I saw the little ones curled up in dark corners, some with visible bruises, others with vacant stares. That’s when I decided I wouldn’t stop, even if it meant forcing my way in.

Not all places were the same, but in many, I found similar patterns. Neglected facilities, abusive staff, and children living in inhumane conditions. Sometimes, the situation was so severe that I had to call local authorities, and convincing them wasn’t always easy.

I remember one convent in Arkansas where they refused to let me enter. The priest in charge insisted they had nothing to hide, but the aura of the place told me otherwise. I contacted the authorities, but they didn’t want to intervene without evidence.

—If no one else will do anything, I will —I told them, my tone leaving no room for argument.

And I did. I broke the door open with an aura-powered burst, leaving everyone speechless. What I found was worse than I imagined: children locked in small cells, malnourished, and with visible wounds. Some didn’t even react to the noise, as if their spirits had been completely crushed.

That day, as the officers removed those responsible from the premises, I couldn’t help but kneel next to a small girl with tangled hair who wouldn’t lift her gaze.

—You’re safe now —I said softly, placing my hand on her shoulder.

She didn’t respond, but I felt her tiny body relax slightly.

With every place I shut down, the higher-ups assigned a temporary location for the rescued children. It was a large, safe space with everything they needed to be comfortable while my shelter was under construction.

I spent hours there, ensuring everything was in order. I brought them food, clothes, and toys, and little by little, the children began to trust me. Some shared their stories; others simply clung to my hand, as if afraid that letting go would mean losing everything again.

Between my missions as an anómala and my fight for the children, my time seemed insufficient, but every smile I managed to bring to their faces made it all worth it.

One afternoon, while reviewing the shelter’s progress, I received a call from the higher-ups. They wanted to discuss my methods.

—We know what you’re doing, Seraphine, and we admire it. That’s why we’ve supported you with the temporary shelters —Eleanor said—, but you must be careful. Exposing yourself like this could have consequences for you and the organization.

—Consequences like what? That people find out we exist? —I asked, my tone defiant.

—Exactly. If society learns about the anómalas, we could lose control.

I sighed, understanding their concern but unwilling to stop.

—I can’t close my eyes to what I’ve seen. These children need someone to stand up for them, and if I have the power to do it, I won’t stop.

—But the chaos that would result if our existence were revealed would cause more deaths than you could save on your own —Alaric said, his tone calm but firm.

There was a pause on the line before Eleanor spoke again.

—Just act with caution, Seraphine. We trust your judgment.

The shelter, my great dream, was finally taking shape. It would be a place filled with light, with comfortable rooms, play areas, classrooms, and gardens where children could run freely. Every detail was carefully planned to give them the childhood they had been denied.

Meanwhile, I continued receiving missions as an anómala. In every battle, I remembered why I was doing what I did. Every anomaly defeated, every life saved, brought me closer to my purpose: creating a world where children wouldn’t have to suffer.

That night, as I looked at the finished plans for the shelter, I fell to my knees and thanked God for giving me the strength to carry on. My friends weren’t here, but I felt this was the legacy I owed them—something that would have given them hope if they had been given the chance.

Soon, that shelter would be a home—not just for the children, but for a part of my soul that was still seeking redemption.