Louis forced his eyes open.Everything was blurred. His head throbbed, his body heavy. He remembered the moment he had been struck—the sharp blow, the sudden collapse—and expected to wake broken and bleeding.
But what he saw made his breath catch.
The bar, so polished and alive before, now looked as if a hurricane had torn through it. Bottles lay shattered across the floor, chairs splintered, the DJ table smashed beyond repair.
"What… really happened?" he muttered, his voice trembling.
Around him, people lay scattered—motionless. Every man who had been standing, every patron who had been laughing, every thug who had been throwing punches—now unconscious. Not one stirred. Not one even groaned. They all looked battered, beaten down by some unseen force.
Louis staggered to his feet. He braced for pain, for the sting of bruises and cracked ribs. He could still remember each strike, each kick, the weight of fists slamming into him. The pain was gone, but its imprint clung to him, a shadow without a body.
But when he checked himself… nothing.No blood, no cuts, no swelling. His skin was untouched. He was fine—completely fine—except for his clothes, torn and ragged as if they had been fed through a shredder.
His gaze shifted, and he froze.Vey's "friend," the one who had beaten him down earlier, lay sprawled nearby. His leg bent at an angle no human limb should bend, twisted and broken. Yet even he was unconscious, unmoving like the rest.
Louis' heart pounded. He spun around, searching desperately. "Vey…"
Then he saw her. Still on the couch, slumped among the other girls who had been poisoned with sleeping powder earlier. Relief washed over him when he noticed her chest rise and fall. She was alive.
He hurried to her side, kneeling down, and shook her shoulder gently. "Vey… wake up."
Her lashes trembled before her eyes slowly opened. She blinked at him, dazed, her voice barely a whisper.
"What… happened?"
Louis exhaled shakily, his own thoughts a storm. He forced a weak smile, though he had no answer."Don't you… want to go back?"
Vey's eyes widened as she slowly sat up, taking in the wreckage around her."What… what happened here?"
Louis opened his mouth but no words came. He simply tilted his head, helpless, as if to say he didn't know either.
Vey's gaze darted across the room, panic flaring. "Wait—what? Why do all my friends look like they've been… beaten?"
"I don't know," Louis said quickly, shaking his head. "Seriously, I just woke up too."
He took a breath, then hurried to explain everything—the moment her so-called "friends" tried to drug her, how they planned to take advantage of her, how he stepped in and fought, how they turned on him, how the beating blurred into darkness. And then… how he woke up to this, the chaos she was now seeing.
Vey tilted her head, studying him carefully. "You said you got beaten?"
Louis nodded, silent.
Her eyes narrowed. "Then why are you the only one here who looks fine?" She scanned the room again, her gaze lingering on the man who had tried to touch her earlier—the same man now lying twisted on the ground, his leg bent grotesquely out of shape.
"See? Look at him," she pointed sharply. "He's the one who looks like he took the beating. Who's going to believe your story when the evidence says the opposite?"
Louis opened his mouth, then closed it again. "…" She was right. Everything in front of them looked like the truth had been flipped upside down.
Vey exhaled sharply and grabbed his hand. "Come on."
He blinked. "Where?"
"To find out what really happened," she said firmly. "The control room. If the system's still active, the cameras will have recorded everything."
Louis froze for a second, realization hitting him like a jolt. Of course—the cameras. How could he have forgotten something so obvious? He was a software engineer, for God's sake, yet it hadn't crossed his mind until she said it.
Feeling a flush of embarrassment, he nodded quickly. "Right. You're right."
Together, they moved toward the hallway leading to the control room, the eerie silence of the ruined bar pressing down on them with every step.
***
They moved quietly through the shattered corridors, scanning every corner. Both had agreed not to wake anyone else—better to leave them unconscious. And deep down, they hoped the damage was bad enough that nobody would wake up any time soon.
After a few tense minutes, they finally found the control room.
It was locked.
Vey turned to him, eyebrows raised. "You're the man here, right?"
Louis blinked. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course I am."
"Then you know what to do."
"Oh… right. Relax, I was just about to say that." He tried to sound confident, but his nerves were showing. This was the first time he had ever faced a scene like this—wreckage, fainted bodies, and now a locked door—and panic still gnawed at the edge of his thoughts.
He braced himself, then kicked.
Bugh!
The door rattled but held firm. He kicked again.
BUGH!
Still nothing.
Vey crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "That's it? Now I'm convinced there's no way you're the one who beat all those guys."
"You don't say," Louis muttered, avoiding her gaze.
He shrugged, scanning the hall for anything useful—and spotted a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall. Without another word, he walked over and unhooked it.
"Hey, where are you going?" Vey asked, frowning.
"Sshh," Louis grinned, suddenly pleased. At least now he could prove something to that icy queen.
He returned to the door, raised the extinguisher, and swung hard at the handle.
Clang!Clang!
He pulled back, gathering more strength, and slammed it again.
CLANG!
The lock snapped. With a final shove, the door creaked open.
What they saw inside froze them both.
The control room was littered with unconscious guards slumped over desks and chairs. Every screen glowed the same eerie blue, lines of corrupted code crawling across the displays like digital veins.
They stepped inside carefully, almost tiptoeing, afraid of waking anyone. The air smelled faintly of burnt plastic.
"What the hell… happened here?" Vey whispered.
Louis shook his head. "Do you think I know?"
They exchanged a helpless glance, then moved deeper. Louis bent over one of the consoles, scanning the screen.
"You've got to be kidding me. Every monitor is showing the same error code," he muttered.
"You understand it?" Vey asked quickly.
Louis gave her a look. "Of course I do. I'm a programmer, remember? Whoever did this hijacked the system. Hold on—let me try something."
He dropped into the chair and began typing furiously. For a moment, it seemed like he was making progress, until his face twisted in frustration.
"This is bad. All the data's gone. Whoever did this didn't just wipe the logs — they wrote a virus that multiplied itself, forced the memory cells to open and close until the hardware fried. The drives are physically burned. There's nothing left to recover."
Vey hissed, under her breath. "Damn it…"
Then one of the screens flickered.
Through the static, an image broke through. At first it blended into the eerie blue glow, almost invisible. But slowly, they realized it wasn't just random noise—it was a symbol.
A logo.
Louis leaned closer, squinting, trying to make sense of it."What is this…?" he murmured.
Then it hit him—faint but undeniable. The echoes he had heard before: a low hum vibrating in his ears, too steady to be real, too deep to be sound. It pressed behind his eyes, like invisible hands testing the edges of his skull.
On the screen, the static gathered into the outline of a star. Not a perfect star, but one broken, its points only half-drawn, as though someone had started sketching it and then stopped. In the center, a faint light pulsed—soft at first, then sharper, bleeding into the edges. The longer he stared, the more the half-formed lines seemed to shift, never quite completing, never quite fading. It was less a symbol and more a wound in the screen itself.
Vey gasped. Her eyes widened, her face pale. Then she screamed."This is bad. Echoers."
Louis jerked his head toward her. "Echoers? What the hell are Echoers—?"
But before he could finish, Vey grabbed his arm with both hands and yanked him away from the console. "We need to get out. Now!"
"Wait—just tell me what—"
"Not now!" she snapped, dragging him toward the hallway with surprising force.
They bolted from the control room, their footsteps pounding against the silent floor. Once outside, Vey spun on him, shoving him hard toward the exit.
"Listen to me," she said, her voice sharp, trembling with urgency. "Run. As far as you can. Forget everything that just happened. Don't tell anyone. Take this car—" she shoved a key into his hand, "—and drive it to the address I'll give you. I just want you safe. If anything goes wrong, I won't forgive myself… not with you, not with your family."
Louis froze, staring at her, his chest heaving. "Vey, wait—just explain what's going on!"
But she pushed him again, harder this time. Her eyes blazed. "JUST DO WHAT I'M TELLING YOU! We need to get out of here now! And whatever happens—don't look back!"