Vela could no longer hear clearly.
The shock of collapsing onto the floor — and the blood pouring from her eyes, nose, mouth, ears, even the tips of her fingers — overwhelmed her senses. Terror consumed her. Her emotions were violently unstable. She tried to move, but her body refused to respond.
She wanted to cry.
But all that came from her eyes was blood.
Her face was frozen in an expression of horror and grief as she struggled with every ounce of strength to make even the smallest movement. Fear. Regret. Sorrow. A storm of conflicting emotions drove her to keep trying.
But it wasn't just that.
It was her attachment to life.
She didn't want to die.
She hadn't even expected death.
None of it helped.
Her consciousness began slipping away slowly, before she could fully understand what was happening. Darkness swallowed her thoughts — and she imagined herself sitting in a place surrounded by endless blackness.
She was alone.
Curled into herself.
Crying softly.
"What's happening to me…? Where are you? This isn't supposed to happen. I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm so scared. Come take me from here… please…"
Her sobbing grew louder.
"You… come get me out of here! I'm scared! Where are you?!"
Suddenly, the darkness began to dissolve.
And behind it—
She saw everyone she had ever known.
Whether they knew her or not.
Every person she had ever laid eyes on stood before her — divided into groups. Some stood in gardens. Some in bars. Some in the streets. Some on mountain peaks.
The scene was chaotic.
Then, without warning—
They all began to dance.
Some danced mockingly. Some like rappers on a stage. Each group moved differently, and from every direction came music — songs, rhythms, even children's melodies.
There was only one thing they all shared.
As they danced, their skin began to peel away in tiny strands.
Not like skin.
Like threads being pulled from a doll.
With each thread removed, their bodies grew thinner, weaker. Their faces sagged. Dark circles deepened beneath their eyes.
The threads lifted upward.
And began moving them.
As if someone unseen were pulling the strings.
They rose from the ground, floating, while every place they had stood transformed into ruins — abandoned, destroyed.
In the blink of an eye, the entire scene vanished.
She found herself in a small garden.
A perfect garden.
The sunlight was gentle. The warmth was ideal. The trees and grass were arranged in flawless harmony.
At the far end of the garden stood two little girls in front of a white table with a flower vase resting on top.
They began laughing at Vela.
Not playful laughter.
Hysterical.
Distorted.
Vela felt fear the moment she saw them — before they even laughed.
Their laughter grew louder.
It didn't match their faces.
Their mouths began stretching wider… wider… until their entire faces became nothing but enormous laughing mouths.
Vela ran.
But the distance between them never shortened.
She cried as she ran endlessly, without progress.
"This won't happen! You can't win! I'm the one who always wins! That's how it's supposed to be! Where are you?! Come get me out of here! you! Where are you? They're laughing at me! Where are you?!"
Suddenly she collapsed.
She tried to stand.
She couldn't.
So she crawled.
Dragging herself forward while looking back at the two girls walking slowly toward her, their laughter echoing without pause.
Their faces kept growing
Larger.
Until each face was bigger than its own body.
She could no longer scream properly. Could no longer stand.
All she could do was crawl, crying in despair.
Then—
Someone appeared in the distance.
The figure had no features.
Like a mannequin used to display clothes.
The figure gently blew air toward the two girls.
Vela turned back—
The girls were now yellow balloons with wide painted smiles.
The breath carried them upward until they struck a tree branch.
They burst.
She looked back at the figure before her, still trembling.
It began walking toward her.
With every step, it took on a different human form.
And with every step, darkness swallowed everything behind it.
With every step—
Vela felt safer.
She even began to smile.
She stood.
The figure reached her and took her hand.
Its face continued changing every second.
It looked into her eyes and asked gently:
"Who am I?"
She answered with certainty — as if the words had been planted inside her:
"You are everyone."
It asked another question.
"What is the difference between you and me?"
She replied the same way:
"No one knows who you are. Not even you. But everyone knows who I am."
It listened.
"And what does that mean?"
She answered with fragmented excitement:
"You and I—"
It completed the sentence.
"Together."
Then both of them spoke in unison — and now its form had become identical to hers:
"We will rebuild the world."
Back in the restaurant—
Sebastian was terrified, unable to understand what was happening. Most of the customers had fled. The remaining guests and staff dragged the old woman away while others tried to help Vela. An ambulance and the police were called.
By the time the police arrived, Vela had lost consciousness. They asked what had happened and were told the story.
Meanwhile, Sebastian attempted to leave the restaurant, trying to process events. His mind hadn't been functioning properly since he entered. He didn't know why.
The moment he stepped onto the threshold of the door—
A heavy numbness overtook him.
He collapsed.
He tried to rise, but his body failed him. His vision faded as he stared at the blood pooling beneath him. The screams around him sounded distant, muffled.
His senses no longer helped him understand the world.
He tried to turn his head.
He couldn't.
Behind him—
A police officer had handed his weapon to the old woman.
His expression held something unreadable.
He steadied her trembling hand.
Helped her aim.
In a charged silence—
The bullet pierced Sebastian's heart instantly.
The echo rang through the room.
Strangely—
No one reacted.
As if time had frozen.
All they truly heard was the gunshot.
Then—
Heavy silence.
Before they could even comprehend Sebastian's death—
Something else happened.
Though still unconscious, Vela screamed:
"dieeeee!"
Her eyes never opened.
She screamed—
Then fell still again.
Someone rushed to check her.
She hadn't fainted.
She was dead.
At the same time, they heard the old woman say calmly:
"I was already dead. I had nothing left to live for."
She raised the gun to her head
And fired.
It happened so quickly that one officer tried to leap toward her—
But he was too late.
He began shouting at the colleague who had given her the weapon—
Then stopped.
Because a scream erupted from inside the restaurant.
Everyone rushed in.
They saw the waiter — the one who had welcomed the old woman — attacking the employee who had questioned him earlier.
He was screaming hysterically:
"Why do you insist on asking so many questions?! Why do you insist on ruining the pleasure I feel?! How will I ever feel it again?! Your curiosity stole everything from me!"
He bit into the man's neck savagely.
An officer tried to pull him off—
He couldn't.
Another officer struck the waiter in the head with his pistol to knock him unconscious.
But it was too late.
Blood sprayed from the employee's neck like a fountain.
They tried everything to save him.
It was useless.
He died—
Like livestock slaughtered at sacrifice.