Vey didn't look back.Her breath came in ragged bursts as she darted through the narrow alley, shadows clawing at her from every wall. The place was suffocatingly dark—so black that even the night itself seemed to hesitate before entering.
"Damn it… how could the Echoers manifest here…" she muttered between gasps, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heartbeat.
Her footsteps echoed, then slowed. She came to a halt, chest rising and falling, eyes flicking from one end of the alley to the other. For anyone else, the darkness would have been impenetrable. But not for her. Not tonight.
"This will do," she whispered. Her tone carried both fear and resolve.
She pressed one hand against the wall, the other instinctively lifting to her chest—just above the curve of her breast—as if steadying her racing heart. The faint carvings beneath her fingertips seemed to stir, pulsing faintly like veins beneath stone.
Then she began to chant.
The sound wasn't quite Latin, yet it carried an ancient weight, every syllable pressing against the silence like a key turning in a lock.
"Adidartyto… Portalam…"
Her voice faltered, lingering in the darkness.A breath. A pause.
"…Hevenh."
The words wavered in the air—broken, imperfect, but enough.
The alley seemed to inhale.
Her crystal-blue eyes lit up, shining like shards of ice. Slowly, from the wall, a glowing symbol began to emerge—exactly the same sigil that had flashed across the screens Louis had fixed hours before.
"The Echoers' mark…" Vey sighed, bored to see the same omen yet again.
The stone rippled. She stumbled one step back as the wall peeled open, reality bending until it birthed a blurred, trembling portal. She reached out to enter—
—and froze when a figure stepped out.
"Stop right there, Vey."
Her eyes widened. "Bro?"
The young man's voice was sharp, his hand raised as if he could halt her with words alone. "Do you really have no idea what's happening? That symbol shouldn't even exist here!"
Vey shifted her weight, defensive. "I… I was just—"
He cut her off with a weary sigh."Don't. Please don't tell me you're drunk again."
Vey pressed her lips into a guilty line. "It's not like that…"
"Valeriya Sergeyevich Belgari!" His voice thundered in the alley, the kind of tone only an older brother could summon. "You're a direct descendant of the Third World's royal bloodline! And this is how you carry yourself? Stumbling around Earth, opening portals you barely understand?"
Vey rolled her eyes, shoulders slumping as if she'd heard the lecture a hundred times before. She swayed slightly, pretending to admire the shadows instead of listening.
Her brother pinched the bridge of his nose. "What if someone saw you? What if that thing spread further? Do you even realize what you've done?"
"Mm-hm. Yes. Very scary. Consequences, doom, shame upon the family," Vey muttered, rocking her head left and right in mock rhythm. "Got it, Bro. You're so inspiring."
"Vey!"
She gave him a tired smile, mischief flickering in her eyes. "Relax. You worry too much. I'm not going to break the world tonight… probably."
His glare could have cut stone.
Vey chuckled softly, then her expression shifted, remembering why she'd run into the alley in the first place. "Hehe, sorry… but, Dima—there's something more important right now. Tonight, it's not just me using this symbol."
Dima froze. "What? Are you saying others were here?"
"Yeah, bro." Vey's voice lost some of its playful tone. "And they're doing something a lot crazier than me. I figured they'd still be unconscious from the physical aura around it, but… looks like I was wrong. Let's go."
Before he could reply, Vey grabbed his hand and pulled him back toward the bar.
She glanced over her shoulder, pouting dramatically. "Oh, right. I should close it before my wise brother gives me another five-hour lecture."
Dima's glare sharpened, his identical blue eyes sparking like distant thunder.
Vey smirked knowingly—she'd expected that look—and snapped her fingers.
The portal shimmered, its edges crumbling away until the wall sealed itself again, leaving nothing but the dark alley behind.
"Hehe. All gone," she said with a grin. "Now let's move."
***
They arrived at the bar. The sight made Vey stop cold, her breath catching in her throat.
"Vey?" Dima's voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. His glare was enough to pin her in place.
She shook her head quickly. "I swear—less than an hour ago this place was chaos." Closing her eyes, she reached out with her senses. "Dima… there are still traces of its aura lingering."
Dima narrowed his gaze and scanned the street. At first, he saw nothing unusual—just neon lights flickering, the muffled bass of music seeping through the walls. But when he focused deeper, he felt it too. Faint, fragile, almost erased… yet undeniable.
"You're right," he admitted. "But if it was only an hour ago, the energy shouldn't have thinned this much."
Vey gave a helpless shrug, confusion etched across her face. "Don't ask me. I don't get it either."
"If there was an order from above, I would have been informed." Dima's tone hardened, suspicion rising. "But I heard nothing. The only reason I came here was because I felt someone opening a portal to our home." His eyes flicked to her accusingly.
"Hehe… sorry," Vey said with an awkward grin, scratching her cheek.
Dima exhaled slowly, letting the tension roll off in a sigh. "The bigger question is—if it wasn't you, then who?"
Vey's playful smile faded. "Yeah… that's what scares me."
"Let's check inside," he said finally. He nodded curtly to the security guard at the door, who recognized him with a quick bow, and stepped toward the entrance.
Just before crossing the threshold, Dima paused. His eyes drifted to the side alley beside the bar. For the briefest moment, he caught it again—another flicker of energy, thin as smoke, vanishing the instant he tried to focus on it.
His instincts screamed at him to investigate. But time was slipping. With a final glance, he turned back and pushed open the door.
"First things first—see the condition inside," he muttered.
***
They stepped into the party hall.
Music throbbed. Laughter spilled. Lights danced across glasses and faces as if nothing had ever happened.
For Vey, the sight was madness. Only an hour ago, this place had been wrecked—tables overturned, the DJ booth shattered, bodies sprawled unconscious across the floor.
Now? Not a trace. Everything looked as though nothing had happened at all.
Her chest tightened. No way…
She scanned the hall, her eyes locking on a familiar group. Her colleagues. Sitting there as if they hadn't been caught in the storm earlier.
Without thinking, she strode toward them.
Closer, she noticed something that froze her blood. Inside the bottle on their table—what looked like liquor shimmered faintly wrong. Her sharpened senses caught it: sleep powder.
She forced a bright smile, pretending not to notice."Hello, guys!"
"Vey!" Ron—whose leg had been shattered just an hour ago—stood up to greet her, grinning like they were old friends. "So, where's your boyfriend?"
Her smile twitched. "…Boyfriend? You met him before, right?"
Ron laughed. "What? We only just met you today. We only got here an hour ago."
The words slid into her like ice.Impossible.
Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
Dima appeared at her side, close enough to feel her tension. "What's up, Vey?" he asked, low and sharp.
"Ah, nothing. Just—"
But Dima's gaze had already landed on the men. His expression darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
Vey groaned inwardly. Here we go. My brother complex is about to explode.
She raised her voice quickly. "Ah, guys, sorry—I can't accompany you tonight. My brother suddenly came back from Russia, and I have to take him around. I just came to tell you that."
"What?" Ron barked, slamming his hand on the table as if to stop her from leaving.
Idiot.
BUGH! BUAGH! BUAGHH!
Three strikes. No wasted motion.Dima moved like a shadow of steel. Systema. Ruthless efficiency—each strike a verdict.
Ron barely had time to cry out before his body folded. His leg—patched earlier—snapped again, twisting at an unnatural angle. The sound of bone breaking cut through the music like thunder.
The table fell silent. His friends didn't move. They couldn't.
Second time today I've seen that leg in pieces… Vey thought, wincing. Deserved.
She tossed a roll of bills onto the table. "For your medication. Security will help you."
Before anyone could speak, she and Dima turned. At the door, Vey waved down the guards. "Table four. Broken leg. Take care of it."
The security team rushed past as the siblings slipped into a quieter corner of the bar.
They found a quieter booth, away from the music.
"So?" Dima asked, arms crossed.
"It's weird," Vey muttered. "Their memories were modified. I was here earlier—with someone—and now? Blank. They don't remember a thing."
"Who?" Dima cut in immediately.
"Oh, please, not now." She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I pulled some random guy off the street. That's not the point."
"Vey—"
She met his glare with one sharp enough to silence him. He actually flinched.
"Like I told you before, there was chaos here. Ron's leg was already broken. People screaming. Aura residue everywhere. And now…" She gestured back toward the tables. "Clean. Too clean."
Dima's expression hardened. "This place is our territory. It's impossible I wouldn't know if They were moving here."
"Impossible," she repeated flatly. "And yet."
He remembered the faint flicker of energy outside. He almost told her. But no—if someone had the power to erase destruction this completely, alone, and in less than an hour… then tonight wasn't the night to fight. This needed to be carried upward, quietly.
At last, he stood. "Alright. We're done. Let's go."
Vey stretched with a lazy smirk. "Finally. Thought you'd never stop glaring."
He shot her a thunderous look. She only grinned wider as they stepped out of the hall, leaving the too-perfect laughter echoing behind them.