Shall we play a little game of hide and seek?

Vany held her breath, her body pressed against the wall of the dark alley. She didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare step out. Maros’s words still echoed in her head.

Vany (thinking): “He knows I’m here… but he’s not coming straight for me. Why?”

With slow, cautious steps, Vany crept through the alley, searching for a crevice or corner dark enough to hide in. Behind a stack of wooden crates and trash bins, she found a narrow space just big enough to crouch and keep watch.

She sat still, breath held, her ears sharp to catch every sound of footsteps.

Soon, Maros’s shoes could be heard approaching. But his steps… were relaxed. As if he were out for a nighttime stroll, not hunting someone.

Maros (soft voice, light tone): “Vany… you’re still around here, aren’t you?”

Vany held her breath even tighter. She knew Maros wasn’t talking to anyone else. That was meant for her.

Maros: “If you’re gonna play hide-and-seek, at least pick a spot that doesn’t smell like rotten fish.”

Vany bit her lip. She knew her hiding place wasn’t perfect, but it was dark enough to blend into the shadows.

Maros (getting closer): “I’m not mad, really. I’m just… curious. What did you peek at earlier?”

His footsteps stopped. Vany could see his shadow through the gap in the crates. He was standing just a few meters away.

Maros: “You know, Van… sometimes curiosity can be a curse.”

He leaned down slightly, as if peering toward her hiding spot. But he didn’t move any closer.

Maros (soft voice, like a child playing): “Well… if you don’t want to come out, that’s okay. I’ll wait. The world’s a small place, Van. And shadows always know where you’re going.”

Maros turned and walked away slowly. But Vany knew—that wasn’t a sign of safety. It was just the beginning of a new game.

As soon as Maros vanished from sight, Vany bolted out of the alley. Her heart pounded, her breath short and frantic. Only one thought raced through her mind: Get home. Lock the door. Forget all of this.

But as she turned onto the street leading to her house, her steps froze.

They were already waiting.

Five figures. They were members of the Black Fang Gang—a street scouting group known for driving outsiders out of the southern district. Their faces were rough, their clothes a mix of tattered fabric and light armor, and some carried small, worn weapons that still looked deadly.

Gang leader (grinning, raspy voice): “Well, well… who’s wandering around alone at night? Don’t know the district rules?”

Another one (tapping a staff on the ground): “They say this kid’s got something interesting. Let’s find out, shall we?”

Vany took a step back. Her fingers trembled—not from fear, but from something else. Something old. Something she had buried deep.

They lunged.

Vany didn’t scream.

Instead, she raised her hand.

The air around her shimmered—then cracked like glass. A violet glow wrapped around her body, gathering at her outstretched palm. In an instant, the energy surged forward, blasting into the gang like a storm.

One was thrown against a wall. Another rolled across the stone street, groaning.

Vany’s eyes gleamed. Her breath was steady now.

Vany (flat tone): “You shouldn’t have messed with me.”

The gang lay scattered, dazed and shaken. But before Vany could move again—

Clap. Clap. Clap.

She froze.

Behind her, standing in the shadows, was Maros.

Maros (smiling): “Wow… impressive. You’re stronger than me, Vany.”

Vany spun around, eyes wide. But Maros didn’t step closer. He simply watched her, like a child mesmerized by fireworks.

Maros: “Why didn’t you use that earlier? Our little game could’ve ended in seconds.”

Vany didn’t respond. She turned and ran—faster than before. Past the fallen bodies, past the flickering crystal streetlamps, until her house came into view.

She rushed inside, locked the door, and collapsed onto the floor.

Her hands still glowed faintly.

And somewhere, not too far away, Maros was still smiling.

Vany ran as fast as she could, leaving behind the dark alley and the lingering image of Maros in her mind. The southern district felt longer than usual. The crystal lamps lining the street flickered erratically, as if panicking with her.

Her steps were swift, almost thoughtless. Only one thing mattered: Get home. Lock the door. Stay away from Maros.

Finally, her small house appeared at the end of the road. She nearly slammed into the door as she entered, locking it tightly and activating every protective spell she knew.

She collapsed onto the living room floor. Her breath was heavy, her hands still trembling slightly. She tried to calm herself, scanning the dim and silent house.

It’s safe now. I’m home. There’s no way he knows this place.

But that sense of safety shattered within minutes.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of knocking.

Vany turned slowly. Her eyes widened. She didn’t dare approach. Didn’t dare speak.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time louder. More rhythmic. Like the beat of a child’s game.

Then the voice came.

Maros (from behind the door, light and playful): “Let’s play hide-and-seek again, Vany. The game’s not over yet.”

Vany froze.

She rose slowly, her body heavy. Her steps were quiet, moving away from the door. She didn’t know how Maros had found her. Didn’t know how he knew where she lived.

But one thing was clear—Maros wasn’t playing anymore.

Vany rushed to the bathroom, locked the door, and curled up in the corner. She hugged her knees, trying to silence her breathing.

Outside, the knocking continued.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Maros (voice softer now, almost a whisper): “Van… I know you’re hiding. But I’m really good at finding people.”

Vany covered her ears.

She knew—the game wasn’t over.