That moment Niji realized that people were screaming in the hall but not from the joy of the concert.

“Damn it!” Dasnor was already in the corridor.

“Why me again?!” The healer ran after him alongside Niji.

Through the veil of artificial smoke one could barely discern how visitors were shrieking out of the hall. The typical concert mishmash of hands and heads turned into real chaos: people crushed into each other, trying to get out through a narrow passage. There was no one on the stage except the phlegmatic droid, and the stroboscopes continued to spin hysterically. As soon as the smoke had settled a little, Niji could see a group of strange mages near the bar—mainly young boys and girls who had barely come of age. The faces of most of them had the mark of curse: purple growths clung to their necks and cheeks, and many concealed it with scarves and bandanas. The Cursed were clearly in no hurry to attack those who remained in the hall: these Viols were actively searching for someone or something, turning tables and breaking shelves with drinks just for fun.

“Back door,” Dasnor commanded. “Now!”

“Shouldn’t we deal with them here?” Sebastian asked.

“Don’t!” the enchantress hissed. “First, close quarters. Second, CCTV. Hey, you! You’ve come for me, okay? Here I am!”

Her loud screaming attracted the vandals’ attention, and everyone moved back to the corridor, rushing towards the exit. While running, Dammit asked Sebastian, “Are you a mage? If not, you’d better hide. You are bleeding. I can…”

“You don’t need to heal him.” Freyja intervened. “His blood will be of use to me.”

Dasnor knocked the door out with his shoulder, and everyone made it to a poorly lit, deserted alley. It was already quite late in the evening, and only a mindless adventurer would have wandered into such an unfavorable area. Freyja ordered:, “Stay here.”

“Who are they?” Niji asked.

“Guys from a gang named ‘Children of the Evolution.’ Their victims, to be more exact. Some sick charlatans who promise to turn commoners into mages and implant strange things under their skin. They dare to call this trash ‘amplifiers.’”

Niji remembered how Shiny had spoken to her about it. So, it seemed to be the same people. Freyja smiled sourly. “I guess they want to punish me for declining their job offer.”

“Qualified specialists are always on high demand.” Dammit dodged whatever metallic object had been thrown in their direction.

A dozen Viols joined the mages outside. Flocking together, they pressed forward. “Zerg rush,” as the medic commented.

“Just small fries. Pathetic,” Freyja said under her breath.

“Okay, my turn to die.” Dammit tried to joke about it, but it wasn’t reassuring.

“Yes, there are a lot of them, but their skills are just a shadow of what a true Violet can do. Sebastian!”

The backing singer nodded and bent to his knees so Freyja could press her hand to his bloody forehead. The symbols on her amplifier shone dazzlingly, as the enchantress was dragging out Sebastian’s blood, transforming it into magical substance. Niji had never seen so much energy being manipulated by a single person. Dark red aura was flowing to Freyja’s hand as she removed it and clasped her fist, her hair soaring from this charge. Her real eye turned purple, and her skin grew wizened with cracks instead of veins. A horrible, but somehow bewitching sight. Incredible, incomparable power.

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The woman threw up her hands in front of her and twisted them in a ritual movement. A stream of cursed energy surged forward, and Freyja literally dug her heels into the road to resist the recoil. Thick waves were transformed in flight into hundreds of sharp fragments. They pierced the Cursed through or were stuck in their bodies, knocking them down. The energy of blood enveloped the wannabe mages, penetrating their eyes, mouths, ears; tearing them apart from the inside.

“Don’t look.” Dasnor closed Niji’s face with his palm, saving her from the gruesome scene.

And he wasn’t joking.

She might not have seen what was going on in detail, but she could still hear the heart-rending cries of young boys and girls—Niji knew she’d remember this chorus of dying screams forever.

After a half a minute the Amber moved away his hand, and the mage girl felt immediately sick. All the attackers were torn to pieces, lying in a purplish red slush. A mask of terror was frozen on most faces.

Niji fought with her nausea as well as the desire to yell. She had reached her limit. She didn’t know those people, and though they were supposed to be her enemies, she was devastated to see the outcome of their cruel fate. And not only that…

Dammit was swearing uncontrollably, and even impenetrable Dasnor stood frozen with dread, white as canvas. Freyja’s power was incomparable with anything existing in the world of magic. Apparently, the mixing of spectrum cells gave the sorcerer even more strength than Cursed usually inherited. It was amazing how she was still able to control herself. After all, sooner or later, any Viol succumbed to going crazy, overwhelmed by an energy burst. And, most importantly: would Niji also become… like that?

Freyja calmly lowered her hands, and her amplifier’s glow went out. Her eye regained its usual color, and the skin on her face softened. The rest of the ‘Enchanters Band’ musicians rushed out of the building and grabbed Sebastian, who barely managed to stand still.

“We need to get out of here,” Freyja said and turned on her heels.

“Yeah…” Dasnor was still observing the hills of dead people on the sidewalk, clearly feeling sick too.

“What the fuck have you done, Freyja?!” Dammit’s indignation was absolute. “Why?!”

“The Rule of the First Blood.”

“Oh, fuck that! They were kids, Freyja! Kids! Do you even understand that? Kids who were tricked by some shitbags who made…”

“Would you prefer lying in their place, Harold Omnious?” Freyja was still looking down on her feet and clenched her fists. “Or maybe you think that I enjoy being a Viol? A Cursed? A monster?!”

“You should have been taken to the fucking PRISM right away!” Dammit growled. “I knew it would come to no good.”

“Take your new girl as well, then.”

Freyja looked on the medic above her shoulder. He bit his lips and continued swearing, but inside his head only. She continued in a business-like manner.

“Let’s dot our i’s. You cannot erase the amplifier. At least, if I knew a way, I would have done it to myself already. Unfortunately, Niji-chan, we both will share the same destiny. Death.”

The Elementalist was silent while Freyja stared into her eyes.

“But as you now owe me, I won’t let you die so easily. I’ll give you a lead: somewhere in New Tokyo there is a man with the name of Edward Shell. He won a useful artifact from me in a poker game. He will never return it to me, but maybe he will sympathize with you. I can’t guarantee that this will help, but... the relic has great power, so it’s worth a try.”

“Ed?” Dasnor raised his eyebrow.

“The one and only. I have no clue where he is now, but your friends from M.A.G.E. might know. Ah, and also ask for his ‘Lost Art’ manuscript. Nobody would figure out how it works without it.”

Niji’s heart was beating too fast. That was her chance! The Violet raised her hand, this time surrounded by a dark blue glow, and directed it to the forehead of the mage girl. “A small gift for you.”

The ex-Crimson felt how her hair got electrified. An imperceptible energy discharge hit her head, shivering through her body. After a dozen seconds, the glow ended, and Freyja removed her fingers, explaining.

“It’s a neutralizer. Over time, your blood will stain more and more. I think you are aware that purple cells tend to divide rapidly and dominate over the rest. My spell will make you look more red on radars. Bear in mind that someday this will fail to work against state-of-the-art aura color scanners.”

“You have a lot of trump cards up your sleeve, Freyja,” Dammit muttered. “Would you mind teaching me this trick?”

“This is a crime, my crazy friend. But it can fool the system well. M.A.G.E. loves to fool the system, do you not?” Freyja, along with the rest of her crew, moved down into the street, humming, “After all, what defines me? Just the color of my blood.”

As the police alarm howled, Dasnor grabbed Dammit and Niji by their hands and soared upward, overcoming the force of gravity.