Louis lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the night pressing down like a weight. His thoughts wouldn't stop racing.
Damn it… what the hell was that?
It all came too fast, too violently. He tried to convince himself it had been a blackout, a trick of adrenaline, but the memories clawed back the moment he closed his eyes.
The shadow.That blur of movement ripping through the bar, tearing the place apart like a storm. Tables shattered, bottles smashed, fists and kicks landing with inhuman brutality.
And Ron.The sound still echoed in Louis's skull—CRACK!—his leg snapping like dry wood, the noise so sharp it made the hairs on Louis's neck bristle even now.
He shuddered, dragging a hand down his face. Just remembering it left his body trembling.
"Shit…" he whispered into the empty room.
Sighing, he lifted his palm—and froze.There it was. Even through the blur of memory, he could see it faintly etched into his skin: the same sigil that he and Vey seen comes out on screens after he try to fix it.
Louis's breath caught. He turned his hand over, rubbed at it, as if the mark might smear away like ink. It didn't.
"What the hell are you…?"
The longer he stared, the more the symbol seemed to pulse, like it was alive beneath his skin. His chest tightened, unease gnawing deeper.
He forced himself to look away, eyes falling on the card Vey had left him. An address, neatly written. The car outside still waiting.
He grimaced. "Forget it. Return the car, forget the girl, forget all of this. None of it's normal, and normal doesn't pay rent."
Resolute, he dragged himself to his desk, flipped open his laptop, and drowned himself in code. Lines scrolled. Fingers typed. Minutes bled into an hour, then more. But his thoughts kept slipping—back to the mark, to the shadow, to the sound of bone breaking.
Finally, he slammed the lid shut.
"Argh!" He collapsed backward onto the bed, hands over his face. "This is driving me insane. I've got work, bills, deadlines—and instead I'm stuck with… whatever this is."
The ceiling stared back, blank and merciless. His body sagged, heavy with exhaustion, but his mind spun restlessly, trapped between fear and denial.
"Damn it all," he muttered. "I just… need some sleep."
He rolled onto his side, trying to shut it out. But even as his eyelids drifted closed, the echo lingered.
***
Louis opened his eyes with a groan. His neck ached like someone had been twisting it all night.
He had no idea when he'd finally passed out. All he knew was that he'd lain awake for hours, tossing and turning, until exhaustion dragged him under. And now, at six a.m., he was already awake again.
"Perfect," he muttered, pressing a palm to his throbbing temples. "Three hours of sleep and a migraine. Love that for me."
Dragging himself upright, he shuffled to the bathroom. The mirror didn't lie.
"Shit… panda eyes again." He leaned closer, groaning at the dark rings shadowing his face. "Damn."
He splashed cold water over his skin, grabbed a towel, and sighed. Today, of all days, he had to actually show up at the office. After months of remote work, of hiding behind screens and email, the boss wanted a face-to-face.
"Figures," he muttered. "Goodbye, my beautiful shipwreck of a room. I'll miss you." He gave a mock wave to the messy piles of gadgets, snack wrappers, and tangled wires like they were old friends.
He showered, dressed with minimal effort, and stepped outside.
For a moment, he almost managed to forget the madness of last night. The shadow, the chaos, the mark on his palm. Just a normal morning—until his eyes landed on the car parked at the curb.
The Porsche.
His stomach dropped. Memories slammed back in a rush. Vey. The bar. The fight. The keys in his pocket.
"Damn it… I actually forgot about this thing." He rubbed his forehead, half laughing, half panicking. "Alright, fine. I'll drop it back after work. She won't mind if I borrow it once. Consider it my driver's fee."
Smirking at his own rationalization, he fished the key out of his pocket. "Don't judge me," he muttered under his breath. "Yes, I wore these pants yesterday. And the day before. That's called consistency."
He clicked the fob. The Porsche chirped awake. The leather interior gleamed at him like it knew he didn't belong.
Louis slid into the driver's seat, fingers brushing the smooth wheel. For the first time in his life, he was about to commute to work in a car worth more than his entire existence.
The engine purred, low and arrogant.
"This," he whispered with a crooked grin, "is officially the most luxurious way I've ever been late to the office."
And with that, he pulled away from the curb, the city opening before him.
***
Louis went straight to the boss's office and knocked.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in," came the reply—firm, slightly accented.
He pushed the door open.
Behind the desk sat Mr. Kim, stocky in build with glasses perched low on his nose and a suit jacket a little too tight around the shoulders. Everything about him screamed old-school Korean boss—sharp eyes, clipped tone, and an aura that could shift from friendly uncle to drill sergeant in half a second.
But Louis's attention flicked to the two strangers standing across from him.
"Ah, Louis," Mr. Kim said with a wide smile. "This is my head of tech development!"
Louis almost laughed. Head of tech development? Sure. When you're the only tech guy in the company, technically you're the head of yourself. Next time, maybe I'll give myself a little plaque: Employee of the Month—also me.
He settled for a polite nod. "Uh, hi."
"Hello," the two replied in unison.
Louis sized them up quickly.
The man looked about his age—handsome, tall, blond hair neat like he'd walked out of a commercial. Athletic frame, sharp jawline, and the kind of presence that made people glance twice without knowing why. His eyes caught Louis off guard: a piercing green, gleaming unnaturally bright under the office lights.
The woman beside him carried herself with equal confidence. Straight brown hair framed her face, her dress elegant but simple. She was tall, poised, and her figure had the kind of balance sculptors chased. But her eyes—dark brown, steady and deep—were the opposite of her partner's brightness. Something about them felt weightier, more grounded… but no less unusual.
Mr. Kim gestured proudly. "They're your new partners. Another one is on the way, but she's late. These two are excellent programmers. I expect you to work closely together."
Louis stepped forward, extending a hand. "Louis Chen."
The woman's grip was firm, her dark eyes locking onto his. "Amara Deamouss."
Louis blinked. "Dea…mouss?" He stumbled over the syllables, covering with a crooked smile. "Right. Amara. Nice to meet you."
Then the man clasped his hand, grin confident. "Neo Belphegor."
Louis hesitated again, eyebrows twitching. Belphegor? Really? He forced a smile. "Neo. Okay. Cool name. Definitely not one you forget."
The two didn't react, but the names stuck in Louis's head, circling like puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit. Deamouss. Belphegor. Who even has names like that? Sounds more like game avatars than real people.
Mr. Kim clapped his hands once. "Alright, enough standing around. Louis, show them the office. I'll handle the latecomer when she arrives."
"Got it," Louis said. He opened the door and gestured to the pair. "Welcome to Kia Tech. Let me give you the grand tour. Don't blink—it's over fast."
He led them out into the cramped hallway, still sneaking glances at Neo's green eyes and Amara's dark brown ones, unease scratching faintly at the back of his mind.
Louis opened the door and gestured to the pair. "Welcome to Kia Tech. Let me give you the grand tour. Don't blink—it's over fast."
He led them out into the cramped hallway, still sneaking glances at Neo's green eyes and Amara's dark brown ones, unease scratching faintly at the back of his mind.
As he stepped out, something caught in the corner of his eye—a familiar silhouette at the far end of the hall. Blonde hair. Sharp presence. For a split second, it looked exactly like Vey heading toward the boss's office.
Louis froze, blinking hard.
When he looked again, the hallway was empty.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "...Just my imagination."
But even as he walked on, the thought wouldn't leave him. Why the hell would I be seeing her here?
***
After some time showing Neo and Amara the partitions, the coffee corner, and the server closet that barely deserved the name, Louis brought them back to the boss's office.
He pushed the door open—then stopped dead.
His stomach dropped. His eyes blinked once, twice, but the image didn't change. She was really there.
Vey.
The same Vey who had pulled him into a nightmare just hours ago. The same girl he was sure belonged to a different world altogether. And now she was standing casually in Mr. Kim's office like she'd always belonged.
Louis's throat dried up. He couldn't form a single word.
Mr. Kim, noticing his hesitation, cleared his throat. "Ah, this is Valeriya Belgari. She's also joining us as a new member. She may look young, but she comes with a strong background."
Louis's mind screamed. What the hell is going on? Valeriya Belgari? Joining… here? In this shoebox company? She was driving a Porsche. She looked like money walking on legs. Why the hell would someone like her set foot in Kia Tech?
Neo and Amara gave polite greetings. Louis still hadn't moved.
Then Vey's eyes flicked to him. Calm, sharp, unreadable. She stepped closer until she was near enough that only he could hear.
"Don't flatter yourself," she whispered, lips barely curving. "I'm not here because of you. I have other business."
Her perfume cut through the stale office air, sharp and cold.
Louis snapped back, fumbling. "Err—hello," he managed, voice stuttering more than he'd like.
Vey straightened, addressing the others smoothly. "You can just call me Vey."
Louis's heart was still hammering. He forced himself to breathe, but the thought wouldn't stop repeating: What the hell is she doing here?