The air is filled with the smell of smoke and butter,and Moscow is glowing beneath fairy lights and vivid decorations strung across streets.
Rows of stall selling traditional foods. Stacks of hot blini were passed from hand to hand, dripping with honey and jam, but few seemed to eat. Most only held them, as if part of the ritual demanded it.
A boy ran past, his fox mask crooked, chased by a girl wearing antlers that snagged in the wind. Somewhere, men shouted, their voices rising in drunken challenge, while others circled them, chanting.
Honey drips onto the snow mixing with mud and ice beneath the steady rhythm of passing feet.
They came in masks.
Not the delicate kind meant for beauty but rough, carved faces, wooden and painted, some smiling too wide, others twisted into something almost human, almost not. Fur lined cloaks brushed against embroidered dresses, boots crunched over frost, and laughter rang out,too loud, too sharp, teetering on the edge of something feral.
And at the center of it all—The effigy.
It towered above the crowd, a woman woven from straw and cloth, dressed in a faded red sarafan that fluttered like dying flame. Her painted face was crude, but her hollow eyes seemed to watch everything. Arms stretched wide, as though welcoming the fire that would soon devour her.
Fire climbed her skirts in a hungry rush, devouring red into gold, gold into black.
Sparks leapt into the sky like fleeing souls. The crowd erupted—not in fear, but in something deeper. Cheers, screams, laughter—voices merging into a single, unholy sound.
"Jiya, get behind the effigy—now, quickly" Seraphine's whisper crackled through the Bluetooth headset from her distant sniper perch, directing Aythijhya and Zenith.
She moved through a sea of masked faces, slipping behind the effigy,her fingers tightening around the gun concealed beneath her coat.
Just then a sharp suppressed thud slipped into the air slicing through the wind directly piercing into the head of Adam.
Adam is a bastard of a depraved man involved in kidnapping victims from infants to teenagers—not just girls, but boys as well. Many of the boys end up being trained as assets, brainwashed to carry out further acts of human trafficking .
"Holy shit... that bastard dropped" Sera's voice slid through their earpieces-flat, almost bored,while chaos rippled around them.
"What did you expect, Sera?" Zenith's tone was cold as he pushed through the swelling panic, eyes locked on a man moving just a little too fast. "You put a bullet straight through his skull."
"He could've held on a little longer" she muttered, faint irritation threading her voice.
"What skull? Fuck, Sera-I told you not to shoot the head!" Aythijhya snapped.
"Oh..." the sound left Sera's lips, quiet... almost thoughtful, as realization crept in.
"What the fuck do you mean, 'oh'?" Aythijhy's voice came full of frustration.
"Um, I-I forgot about that I was just too excited" she mutters, the apology thin and unconvincing.
"We'll find another to interrogate. Just make sure she doesn't put a bullet through this one" Zenith whispers pressed against a car where the three vans were waiting and the man walks towards a black sleek SUV.
"Alright... alright. I'll keep watch here. You two move" Sera said, her voice steady again-like nothing had happened.
"Where are you, Zen?" Aythijhya asked, slipping behind a pillar.
"Parking level. Three vans. The man I was tailing just got into a black SUV,looks like he's talking to someone" Zenith whispered, careful to keep his voice low.
"I've got a clear view from here. Don't move,there are two more cars at the West side . Feels like backup... guards,most likely" she warned.
"Got it" he murmured.
A slow tap landed on his shoulder.
He went still.
Then turned
And found himself face-to-face with a man in a golden mask.
"Uh... hi " he muttered, the word catching in his throat like a child caught mid-theft.
The man didn't respond. He simply raised the gun and pressed it to Zenith's forehead.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was low sharp enough to cut.
Zenith forced a breath, steadying himself.
"My car's not starting" he said, keeping his tone even. "I was just checking the tire"
"The car you're hiding behind... is mine" the man snapped.
The color drained from Zenith's face as the gun pressed harder into his forehead, cold metal biting into skin.
The SUV door opened. Two men stepped out, their footsteps slow-deliberate.
"Well, well... a mouse wandering straight into a lion's den.Impressive."
The man who seems to be an Indian smiled, the expression too calm to be kind. He stopped beside a Russian man, somewhere in his forties The one Zenith had been following.
The golden masked man's phone rang, shrill in the thick silence.
"Speak Borris " He answered without lowering the gun.
"Sir,we need backup. There are twenty men attacking us. The girls need to reach the vans safey...we can't hold them off alone."
The voice on the other end trembled under pressure.
The masked man didn't react.
"Send the cars to Red Square, Rostov." He said glancing at the Russian man.
Rostov gave a short nod and moved immediately, relaying the order as he strode toward the vehicles.
"Now speak. Who sent you?” the masked man asked, his eyes darkening.
Zenith forced his breathing to stay even. Panic would get him killed faster than a bullet.
“No one. I was just wandering” he muttered, raising his hands in surrender.
“Speak before I pull the trigger” the man snapped.
Zenith swallowed. His mind raced, calculating angles, exits, distances...anything but the cold metal pointed at him.
The man beside them crouched to Zenith’s level, a wide, sadistic grin stretching across his face. Fingers tangled into Zenith’s hair, yanking his head back with brutal force.Pain flared across his scalp, sharp and immediate.
“Hm… loyal, aren’t you?” the man murmured.
Zenith clenched his jaw. If he spoke carelessly, he’d expose everything. If he stayed silent, they might decide he wasn’t worth the effort.
Just then—A gunshot cracked through the air.
All three of them froze.
The sound echoed from the direction Rostov had gone.
“Seems like we have company,Kunal” the masked man said, straightening, glancing at the other man.
Zenith’s pulse spiked. Opportunity.
“I’ll handle it.”
Without another word, the man turned and strode toward the sound, leaving Zenith behind,still held, but no longer the center of attention.
As the masked man's attention faltered, even for a second, Zenith seized it. In one swift motion, he drew his gun from his holster and aimed it upward,straight at the man standing over him .
"Got some nerve" the man muttered.
Zenith smirked."Indeed. Now remove your mask... before I shoot you."
"I promise I'll be quick" the man said clutching his own gun,stepping forward.
Zenith's jaw clenched. "I won't die alone. I'll make sure you're dragged to hell with me."
On the Other side :-
Kunal moved swiftly, careful to stay out of sight. A muffled voice drifted from a small warehouse near the parking area.
He approached the window in silence, drawing his gun.
Peering inside, he froze.
A man lay on the floor, soaked in blood. Faint, broken sounds slipped past his lips.
Kunal slipped through the window and stepped closer.He crouched beside the body.
“Rostov?” he asked, his voice tight with shock and fury.
Rostov tried to speak, but blood clogged his throat, choking off his words.
“Who did this?” Kunal pressed the tip of his sleek boot against Rostov’s wounded throat.
“You bastard—speak.”
He pressed harder.“Tell me!”
Rostov’s eyes widened—then shifted past Kunal’s shoulder.Kunal noticed.
A shot rang out.
The bullet tore through Rostov’s head.
Kunal moved instantly. He grabbed the attacker’s wrist, twisting it back until the gun slipped from her hand, then dragged her against him from behind.
“A woman” he murmured into her ear. “Feisty.”
“Feisty enough to rip your tongue out” she snapped, struggling in his grip.
Kunal let out a low chuckle. “But I might prefer it elsewhere... Mm... In your mouth instead"
He pressed the barrel of his gun against her jaw, metal biting into her skin.
“Sounds like a typical asshole” she muttered.
A loud thud echoed as he slammed her against the wall, her face forced forward.
“Try me” he whispered, pinning her in place.
His hand slid to her jaw, turning her face slightly.
She moved, in one swift motion, she pulled a knife from her waist, unnoticed.
“You’ve got a pretty face” he smirked.
“And you’ve got foul breath” she shot back and drove the blade into his left hand.
The gun clattered to the floor.
“Damn it—” he snapped, grabbing her wrist and slamming it against the wall.
Her free hand lashed out, landing a sharp punch across his face.
His grip tightened around her throat.
Her breath hitched.
Her vision blurred—then sharpened.
There a glint of silver tucked beneath his coat at his waist. A dagger.
Ignoring the burn in her lungs, she reached down, fingers slipping beneath the heavy fabric
and pulled it free.
Without hesitation, she drove it into his stomach drawing his blood.
"If I die... so do you" he rasped, crushing the air from her lungs.
Aythijhya didn't look away.
Instead, she pulled the dagger free and thrust it upward, straight beneath his jaw.
Kunal's grip on Aythijhya's throat loosens, and he stumbles back.
She rips the knife free from his throat.
His body snapped backward as her kick slammed into him.
"Aghh" the sound choked off in his throat.
✧.･ﾟ'*🌷*'.･ﾟ✧
A punch slams into Zenith's jaw. He stumbles back. Both guns clatter to the ground as the fight explodes.
The man grabs his collar and slams him against the car, fist raised—
But this time,he catches the strike mid air, twists the man's wrist, and drives his fist straight into him.
The man grunts but doesn't fall. Instead, he lunges forward, tackling Zenith against the hood.
Metal dents under the impact.
Zenith's breath knocks out of him for a second.Just enough.The man takes it.
A brutal elbow crashes into Zenith's shoulder.
Another—aimed for his throat.
Zenith jerks sideways, the blow grazing past.
He drives his knee upward, slamming it into the man’s abdomen and the grip loosens. Zenith shoves him back.
"Let go of him.” A man’s voice cuts in from the side, a gun aimed straight at Zenith.
Both turn toward the sound. A smirk spreads across the masked man’s face as he shoves Zenith back.
Zenith steadies himself, dragging his thumb across the blood at his lip.
“Can’t handle a fight alone?” he says, voice low with mockery.
"Sir, you should leave. Most of the guards are already down at Red Square by sniper fire. It looks like Borris betrayed us,it's not safe here "
The man steps forward his voice thick with a Russian accent.
The masked man doesn’t respond immediately.
His gaze flicks past Zenith—toward the distant glow of the festival, the rising chaos, the flicker of flames against the night.
Then back.Cold. Calculating.
"That bastard ” he curses under his breath.
Zenith watches carefully, chest still rising and falling hard from the fight. Blood drips from the corner of his mouth, but his grip steadies.
The shift is subtle.
But it’s there.
Doubt.Anger.A crack in control.
"I need to find Kunal" the masked man says, his voice sharp.
"And him?" the Russian man asks, nodding toward Zenith.
A pause.
The masked man studies him—just a second too long.
Zenith meets his gaze, unflinching.
"Don't show your face if you fail to kill this bastard, Mike." he says flatly, turning toward the warehouse.
Mike doesn’t hesitate.
The moment the masked man disappears, he raises his gun and fires.
Zenith moves. The shot cracks past his shoulder as he lunges forward, slamming into Mike before he can adjust his aim. The gun jerks upward with another shot goes wide.
"Stoyat" [Stop] Mike snapped as Zenith grabs his wrist, forcing it back.
Mike snarls and drives his knee into Zenith’s stomach. For a split second, his grip loosens.
Mike rips his hand free and swings the gun toward his head and Zenith ducks.
The shot blasts into the car behind him as
Glass shatters.
Zenith surges forward, slamming his shoulder into Mike’s chest and driving him back into the vehicle. Metal dents under the impact.
Mike grits his teeth and fires again—The gun clicks.Empty.
"Ublyudok" [Bastard]
Mike’s fist comes down but Zenith twists aside.
The punch dents metal instead. Zenith drives his elbow into Mike’s throat. Mike chokes as his grip faltering. He grabs Mike’s arm, twists it sharply, forcing him down onto one knee.
Mike struggles cursing,trying to pull free.
Zenith’s hand moves to his boot. The knife.
He draws it in one smooth motion.
Zenith doesn’t hesitate.
He drives the blade in deep, controlled.
Mike jerks, a choked sound tearing from his throat.
"Sgni v adu, ubyudok."
[Rot in hell, fucker]
Zenith holds him there for a second longer, making sure the fight is over.
Then he lets go.
Mike collapses to the ground.
Still.
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