Alexander looked at Markov, trying to comprehend the flow of information that fell upon him. He felt these words transform into his own memories, dim and scattered, trying to find their place in this story, like scattered pieces of a puzzle.

“I... I don’t know what to say, Major,” he began, his voice sounding quiet. Alexander looked at his hands; they were shaking slightly. He felt his heart beating, adrenaline flowing through his veins. - It all sounds so... Unreal. I don't remember the meeting, I don't remember the call. I don’t even remember my life before the accident, only the echoes that I create while listening to you. And what will happen now, major? What should we do? Berezov, Twilight...Do they know that I'm alive? What am I... back?

There was despair in his voice, but also courage. Through the confusion of the past came the determination not to give up, to fight and seek the truth, even if this truth might cause pain. Markov looked at him with understanding, his experienced gaze seeing through the confusion of the young man's feelings.

- It won't be easy, Alexander. We will face dangers, and you will have to remember a lot to continue the fight. But you are not alone in this. I'm here to help you. To protect you. We will do everything we can to seek justice and ensure that those responsible for your family's suffering and your losses receive the punishment they deserve.

Markov looked at Alexander with tired but determined confidence in his eyes.

- Alexander, I ask you, show me everything you have. All the things that were with you after the accident,” he said firmly. “Maybe we still have some clues that will help us in this matter.”

Alexander nodded, understanding the seriousness of the moment, and began to take out the items he had. A few personal items, documents, a few small things, and... Markov suddenly stopped him when he took out a lighter. Its surface was scratched, but it clearly appeared to be more than just a fire starter.

“Here it is,” said the major, as if these words contained a revelation. He carefully took the lighter from Alexander’s hands and, after carefully examining it, carefully pressed the side of the case. With a metallic click, the USB connector popped out from the bottom of the lighter.

“This is the clue we were looking for,” he said, a smile running across his face despite his fatigue. - It's not just a lighter, it's a USB drive. Most likely, this is where the information you were going to give me that night is stored.

Markov's eyes sparkled with excitement in anticipation of what they might find on this device. This could be information that could change the course of their investigation, the key to unlocking long-forgotten secrets.

Major Markov quickly went to the computer that stood in the corner of the room. It was an old model, but it was quite suitable for their purposes. With a serious expression on his face, he turned on the device and waited for the system to boot.

“I hope this computer is not connected to the Internet and there is no malware on it,” he muttered, inserting the USB drive into the appropriate port. The computer slowly processed the new device, and a window with files appeared on the screen.

Markov's face lit up when he saw the contents of the USB drive. There were documents, photographs, audio recordings and video files, it seemed, all the incriminating evidence on Berezov that Alexander was able to collect. Markov carefully went through file after file, his eyes widening with surprise and excitement as he became immersed in the data.

- This... this is a gold mine, Alexander! Just what I needed! - he exclaimed, not taking his eyes off the screen. - We have evidence of Berezov’s illegal transactions, connections with criminal groups, tax evasion, and even witness testimony. It's all I need!

Alexander, standing nearby, could not hide the relief and joy in his eyes. All their efforts, all the risks they took, finally paid off. They held in their hands the key to restoring justice that he did not remember.

“We must act quickly and carefully,” Markov said, still looking at the screen, but his mind was already working on the next steps. - This information can change a lot... Let's go.

They headed out when Markov coughed and clutched his chest as if he felt sick. Alexander, concerned about the major’s condition, quickly turned and ran to the kitchen to pour a glass of water from the tap. Markov followed him, grabbed a towel hanging nearby, and with a well-aimed movement wrapped it around Alexander’s neck, yanking him back strongly.

Alexander tried to escape, splashing water from the glass and scratching Markov’s hands, but the major’s iron fingers did not weaken. He strangled Alexander, driving him into the corner of the kitchen, his eyes glowing with cold fire.

“You almost ruined all my plans, Alexander...” he whispered, pressing on the young man’s neck. “My progress could have been greatly hindered because of you...

Alexander continued to struggle, but the air in his lungs was quickly running out. His gaze, full of horror and betrayal, slowly dimmed until his body weakened and fell to the floor.

Markov, breathing heavily, let go of the towel and looked at Alexander’s body lying lifeless at his feet. His face was impassive, his eyes cold. The young man sank deeper into the void, hearing the major's last words.

- If you were smarter, you would have died earlier and without suffering...

Alexander slowly came to his senses, his head was buzzing, and his body seemed surprisingly light. He tried to remember what happened, but his memory was only blank from the moment he found himself in the arms of death in his own kitchen. He hardly opened his eyes, not understanding where he was.

There were no walls or floor around, only an endless gray space, stretched in all directions, like fog. The place seemed unnaturally quiet, except for the faint echo of his own movements and breathing. He stood up, feeling a strange lack of weight, and looked at his hands. They looked normal, but they seemed to be permeated with some strange, shining light.

Feeling the familiarity of this place, Alexander moved forward with the confidence of a man who had already been here once. However, the Edge, as he called this place, was full of surprises. He still could not find a single point of reference in this endless fog. All he saw was a gray veil surrounding him on each side.

Suddenly, completely unexpectedly, he trips over something invisible and his body falls forward. The pain in the head from the blow is bright and real, despite the ephemerality of this place. He somersaults several times before stopping, and lies there for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts.

- Last time I at least saw something!

He slowly rises to his knees, then to his feet, carefully feeling his head. There is no blood, no wound, but the pain is still felt. While looking around for something he might have tripped over, Alexander notices a strange anomaly in the fog in front of him. It appears as a slight distortion in the air, flickering and changing shape. As he gets closer, he realizes that this is not just a distortion. The wormhole, similar to a tunnel into reality, beckoned with its unusualness.

“Hide”

Cassandra's whisper was, as always, unexpected and frightening. Alexander quickly jumped to the side, somersaulting and hiding his body behind a stone, constantly looking at the wormhole. The portal rippled and a dark silhouette emerged from it. It was the figure of a man, dressed in a long, tattered cloak, which floated around him as if supported by an invisible wind. Under the hood, no face was visible, only a shadow, so deep that it seemed as if it was absorbing all the surrounding light. The figure turned around slowly, as if looking for something or someone.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Alexander squeezed even tighter behind the stone, his heart was beating so loudly that he was afraid he might be heard. He didn't understand who or what could come from the wormhole, but he instinctively sensed danger.

The dark figure began to move, its steps were measured, and each of them caused a slight vibration in the ground, which Alexander could feel even behind his cover. The creature moved in his direction, slowly but steadily.

"Cassandra, what should I do?" - Alexander mentally screamed, but there was no answer.

The figure was already very close when it suddenly stopped. She lowered her head, and although her face was hidden in shadow, Alexander felt her gaze on him. It was like a cold touch to his soul.

- You're not from here. - a voice sounded coming from the figure. The voice was both male and female, old and young at the same time, echoing from the fog.

The creature in front of Alexander, despite its threatening posture, made no attempt to attack. This gave Alexander a moment to collect his thoughts. He realized that the shelter would no longer provide him with safety, and determination began to replace the excitement in his heart.

- Who you are? - Alexander found the strength to say these words out loud.

The creature stepped forward, and the outline of its body became clearer. His figure, clad in darkness, looked both terrifying and majestic.

“I am the Skeleton Executioner,” thundered the answer. His voice was like an echo piercing the fog of time and space. “I am here to judge those who try to evade their destiny.

The being, clothed in an invisible blanket of darkness, stretched out its hand as it spoke these words, tightly grasping the space in front of it. In response to this action, Alexander saw with horror how his own ephemeral body began to separate from him, like ghostly smoke or a trembling mirror image that wavers in the unstable air of this world.

The executioner, monumental and fearsome, looked at this ephemerality with eyes that seemed to be able to see through the very fabric of reality. After a short pause, he spoke his words in a powerful, resonating voice that filled the entire surrounding fog and was reflected from the invisible walls of this silent, surreal place.

- There is no verdict for you. You are floating along the river of your destiny, having not yet accomplished the deeds that require my attention.

His voice, sounding like an ancient chant, carried with it an echo into eternity as he slowly turned around, and his figure began to dissolve into the silver mist, softly and silently, like a shadow that thickens and disappears at nightfall.

Alexander, standing near the iridescent wormhole, whose edges shimmered with warm colors, felt his ephemeral body, with a gentle tingling, return back, becoming whole and hard as before. The air around him vibrated with a departed presence, leaving only a whisper of silence in his ears.

Only Alexander collected his thoughts, deciding to continue his journey, when suddenly the fog in front of him began to rapidly dissipate. It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that he froze for a moment, trying to understand what was happening. The grayness was leaving, as if invisible hands were pulling it away, opening up new areas of the Edge for Alexander, which until that moment had remained hidden.

But before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a man jumped out of the dissipating fog like a rabid animal. His eyes burned with madness, and in each hand he clutched a dagger, the blades of which reflected the flickering remains of the fog, giving them an ominous glow. He moved with such speed and fury that Alexander barely had time to react. The guy even caught a glimpse of casual jeans on the attacker, but there was no time for that.

Instinctively jumping back, Alexander felt adrenaline filling his veins, and all thoughts instantly focused on survival. The madman was clearly possessed, his movements were chaotic, but deadly, his every blow could be fatal.

Shadows stretched and distorted around them as the possessed man rushed at Alexander with daggers. The man moved with animalistic speed, his eyes blazing with madness as he swung his weapons, creating swirls of shimmering metal.

Alexander jumped back, almost losing his balance as the daggers whistled shrilly, passing where his head had just been. He gripped the hilt of his dagger, feeling the cold metallic texture against his palm, quickly assessing his options. His opponent was fast, but his movements were rash, wild - this could be exploited.

The Possessed attacked again, two daggers cutting dangerous arcs. Alexander dodged one, parried another with his dagger, sparks flying into the air. He felt pressure in his arm from the impact, the muscles in his arm protesting. He performed a side kick to his opponent's knee, causing him to stumble, but the possessed man was stubborn - he immediately regained his position.

Alexander saw his chance when his opponent swung too wide. He dodged, feeling the wind of the blade against his face, and moved closer, his own dagger dancing in an attacking rhythm. He targeted vulnerable spots - shoulders, sides, knees. However, each of his blows was either parried or dodged.

They continued their deadly dance, moving in a chaotic rhythm across the soft, uneven ground. Alexander felt sweat running down his forehead, every movement became heavier, as if the air around him was thickening.

Ultimately, it was the possessed's mistake that ended the fight. In his blind, furious strike, he lost his balance, leaving his guard open. Alexander reacted quickly, the piercing blow of his dagger finding its target in the opponent's side, penetrating deep. The Possessed let out a piercing scream, his daggers falling from his weakened hands as he collapsed to the ground.

Alexander's breathing was heavy and uneven, each breath came in short gasps, as if he was trying to breathe through fabric. His hands shook as he pulled the dagger from his opponent's body, the blood dark and slow seeping into the ground. There was a dull silence in the surrounding fog, only his own heavy sighs broke it.

And then the enemy’s body became ashes and scattered in a single stream towards a group of portals next to Alexander. The energy pulsating from his defeated opponent enveloped Alexander, seeping through his pores, igniting every cell of his body with a sensation that was both foreign and familiar. It was as if an ancient melody was playing somewhere in the back of his mind, reminding him of a long-forgotten power that was now returning to him.

Alexander closed his eyes, concentrating on the flow of energy. He felt her moving inside him, like a living, independent entity seeking refuge. He "saw" how energy moved along certain paths, penetrated into places where fatigue or illness usually lurked, filling them with strength and life. She slid along his nerve pathways, strengthening his muscles, enlivening his mind. When it reached his solar plexus, the place where he felt his own power always resided, it stopped, pulsing like a heart.

Opening his eyes, Alexander felt changes in himself. He was completely healthy and full of energy. He nodded with satisfaction, acknowledging that this power had found its rightful place within him. He even wanted to pass her through the dagger and create a shield like the last time, when his gaze noticed someone else's attention. Turning sharply, the guy put out his blade, but after he realized who was in front of him, he lowered the weapon.

- Charon...