Sweat streamed down Ratree's forehead.

Her breathing fractured into short pulls, like she was chasing something already slipping beyond reach. She told herself to stay still. To stay normal. Zingforce officers could smell panic the way predators smelled blood.

A Zingforce officer aimed a Zing detector at her chest.
The device blinked faintly.

Another stood slightly aside, rifle raised. The barrel pulsed with a dim red glow. Not bright. Not dramatic. Just enough to remind her that one wrong reading would turn her into a report number.

Wind slipped through the fog and pressed cold fingers against her skin.
Sweat crawled down her spine.

The detector hummed.

For a heartbeat, Ratree imagined it screaming.
Imagined red lights exploding.
Imagined the rifle discharging before she could even explain.

Silence.

The officer lowered the device slowly and looked at his partner.
A small shake of the head.

The armed officer relaxed. The rifle dipped.

Air rushed out of Ratree's lungs. Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath.

"What are you doing out here alone, ma'am?"

Alone.

The word struck harder than the rifle ever could.

"Alone? He was right beside—"

She turned.

Empty.

No Khai.
No shadow.
Not even displaced mist where he should have been standing.

Her stomach tightened.

For one dangerous second, she questioned herself. Had she imagined him? Was this radiation already gnawing at her senses?

The two Zingforce officers exchanged a look. Their shoulders moved subtly.

"Typical Zing radiation side effect," one of them said, voice casual but edged with condescension.
"Makes people hallucinate."

A quiet laugh.

Helmets hid their faces.
They did not hide the tone.

"I'm not hallucinating," she wanted to snap.
Instead she forced her jaw to loosen.

"I'm serious. He was just—"

A silhouette formed ahead.

Inside the thick fog.

Khai.

Faint. Almost dissolving into the red-violet haze.

Relief hit her so sharply it almost hurt.

He raised a finger to his lips.

Silence.

Not just don't speak.

Don't react.

Behind him, a soft light opened. Subtle. Controlled. Like something that knew it should not exist here.

Khai stepped through.

The light folded shut.

Gone.

Ratree stared a second longer than she should have. Long enough to feel the officers' attention shift back to her.

She forced a small smile, as if embarrassed.

"Ma'am. Are you alright?"

"The other person... where is he?"

Ratree rubbed her forehead, letting her fingers linger there.

"I don't know," she murmured.
"My head feels... light."

She weakened her voice deliberately. Not too much. Just enough.

Victims were escorted.
Threats were detained.

The officers exchanged another look. One tapped his helmet.

"Over. We have a survivor exposed to radiation. Request further examination. Over."

Good, she thought. Keep me in the 'survivor' box.

She followed them unsteadily.

Her hand slid into her sling bag.

The glass vial was still there.

Askum's Zing Core pulsed slowly inside. Thin red smoke curled upward, now wrapped in a delicate rotating ring of violet energy. Calm. Controlled. Stabilized.

Khai.

Not hallucination.

Real.

"Thank you," she whispered.

From a distance, Zingforce voices carried.

"Who took the CCTV memory card?"

"If we can't secure the Zing Core," another replied dryly,
"the memory card will do."

Ratree's jaw tightened slightly.

So that was the game.

A medic approached, checking her pulse and pupils before offering a pill. She swallowed it without protest.

Ambulance lights flashed, reflecting off the lingering red and violet mist. The world looked unreal under those colors. Like something halfway between aftermath and prophecy.

Rooftop of the Condominium

High above, away from sirens and protocol, Azazil watched.

The red and violet fog still devoured what remained of the restaurant, rolling in slow waves. The world exhaled, but not fully.

A smile stretched across his face.

"So he's dead after all."

He flicked something small against the rooftop barrier.

A chip.

Azazil lifted it toward the light, closing one eye as he read it.

Memory Card 512 GB.

His smile deepened.

Laughter spilled into the evening wind. His shoulders shook, unrestrained.

"The next setup... is complete."

He slipped the memory card into his pocket.

Below, the smoke shimmered under the harsh afternoon sun.

"Kenz."

In his mind, Khai and Kenz overlapped. Two faces sharing one shadow.

"We'll see."

"Even those who hide well... make mistakes."

He pulled a smartphone from his pocket. It vibrated softly.

He listened in silence.

Then adjusted his glasses.

"Everything is proceeding according to plan, Tan Sri."

His voice was low. Precise.

"Yes," he continued with a slow nod.
"I'll see you at the Zing Fund ceremony tonight."

The call ended.

His long earring swayed in the wind.

His gaze drifted downward.

Ratree.

Speaking with a medic.

He stared without blinking.

His eyes fixed on the ring on her right hand. The mysterious pattern shimmered faintly.

Recognition flickered across his face.

"You later, girl."

His body erupted into thick red smoke, dense and violent, like blood boiling out of a wound.

"You'll be the perfect opponent for Kenz."

"When the time comes."

The wind swallowed the words.

Gone.

Below, engines roared.
Voices rose.
People moved.

Life resumed its rhythm.

As if nothing had cracked open at all.