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Chapter — Night of the Veil
In this black night—both dark and luminous—a new moon reigned proudly in a splendid sky. Vast clusters of stars scattered across the celestial vault, while a cold wind, an icy breeze, sent shivers through every living thing.
The beauty of the universe revealed itself to the earth without restraint, a fairy-tale setting, almost unreal, inviting one to lose oneself within it.
That day—or rather, that night—the silence was that of a cemetery. A deathly silence, heavy, almost heralding a grim omen.
The city seemed asleep. Everything slept. Even the most ravenous had bowed before this frozen night. Even demons would not have dared approach it.
In this Type-A city named Psira, in the heart of a shadowed park, only a single point of light remained: a bench.
On that bench sat a man who appeared to be in his thirties, solidly built.
He wore a full suit without a tie, and a black mask. His blood-red eyes were crossed by a golden-yellow cross. His black hair seemed as deep as the void itself.
The man let out a sigh.
Facing him was a small rabbit named Oz.
— Time is running out, she said calmly. The curtains will soon fall. Do you truly have nothing to say?
The man replied without much expression:
— Your tongue is less venomous than my ex's… quite the woman…
He murmured, almost to himself:
— She… An abyssal sea separated us as much as it drew us together.
Then he turned his head toward Oz.
— Have you ever been in love? Have you ever wanted to protect something more than anything else? Ever considered the entire world a mere detail compared to a single person? Have you ever placed someone at the center of your universe, to the point where everything else ceased to exist?
Oz answered without hesitation:
— What you're asking me is complex. You speak of fairy tales. Love is vague, interests are vast…
But one thing is certain: I will return home alive, whole, and unharmed.
She added firmly:
— I have a rage for living. I will always wake up every morning telling myself: I live.
Black asked another question:
— What keeps someone like you from sinking into boredom… and above all, from challenging death?
— A question deserves an answer, Oz replied. Go on.
The man let the tension drop and adopted a more relaxed tone.
— True. Enough rambling. I simply wish for your contact information. To become a client, if possible. Talents like yours are rare. I want to establish a contract.
Oz remained impassive. Before her, a translucent rectangle appeared, covered in engraved text.
She read carefully.
— First Law: no direct offensive action between the two contractors.
— Second Law: non-cooperation is forbidden. Any action requiring cooperation must receive cooperation.
— Third Law: credibility tournament. Acceptance of the contract constitutes acceptance of the tournament.
— Fourth Law: all means are authorized to fulfill the conditions of the tournament, except harming one of the contracting groups.
— Fifth Law: the total victor obtains absolute protection, a transfer to an official organization, the divine imperial leap of the Sun and Black, as well as recognition by the Black.
— Sixth Law: any form of servitude is forbidden. Any aggression, subjugation, or coercion will be severely punished according to the gravity of the acts.
Oz sighed one last time.
— I accept.
She signed.
— It is now time to close the veil. Look ahead.
A screen lit up. A chase was raging through the city: police cars and motorcycles pursued the Wolves, who were retreating slowly but surely.
Only one order remained unchanged: the capture of First—Aliss.
She was to be transferred to the Enclave of Torment, a cursed prison where time flowed differently: one minute inside equaled ten minutes outside. Screams echoed there like those of damned souls.
Meanwhile, the chase continued.
Five motorcycles for Five Fifth.
Five brothers.
Five faces.
A single creature born with five identities.
They had split up, forming four identical silhouettes, dressed the same way.
The pursuit was insanely fast. Five Fifth was a true master of riding.
They had already recovered the items to be delivered: the Scarlet Jewel from the two vampires, as well as the Casa from another Nine they affectionately called the little kitten.
Beneath his rabbit mask, a holographic projection of the city map appeared before his eyes.
A sharp turn.
Perfectly executed.
He brushed past a delivery man urinating in the shadow of the park.
Right turn.
Five grenades per person.
Half of them exploded, generating a magnetic field that rendered all police motorcycles obsolete just before the entrance to a dark tunnel.
The remaining grenades rolled a few meters before detonating in a blinding light, paralyzing anyone who looked at it.
A massive truck transporting life-sized dolls passed by without stopping, driven by an old man too slow to notice the light.
Helicopters were deployed immediately. They surrounded the area, destroying the road, now held up by a single pillar.
A man descended, accompanied by ten others. He abruptly opened the cargo.
Empty.
On the ground, a sheet of paper.
A crude drawing of a raised middle finger 🖕
Then the explosion.
Everything was reduced to nothing.
The pilots understood too late: they were only dolls.
Elsewhere, a Nine of Spades ♤ card transformed into an immense spear of light, aimed at the park where First was being held.
— Just a little to the left… there.
Fire.
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