Naturally, I was the first one to peek into the corridor.

And I nearly caught a bullet to the forehead. Shrapnel from the wall scratched my cheek. Bullets literally whizzed past me, forcing me to retreat back. I wasn't scared at that moment, nor did I realize how close I'd come to death. There was only the understanding of the fact that they were shooting at me. In response, Syringa started shooting, too, driving the enemy back into the rooms. I saw the recoil of her gun, how it pushed her fragile shoulder with each shot, how the casings flew out, clinking as they hit the floor. There was something mesmerizing and beautiful about the girl with the gun.

I popped out and started helping her with fire support.

It was incredibly awkward. I was right-handed but had to peek out from the left side. As Malu taught, in such a situation, you have to shoot from the left shoulder, which was terribly uncomfortable. Besides, I didn't know where and why I was shooting. I did it just so they wouldn't peek out. At the doorways, at the end of the corridor, where heads flickered and they shot back not too energetically. At everything that moved and was opposite us. At the same time, the gun was literally dancing in my hands. I shot blindly, not aiming, trying to keep the barrel from recoiling upwards.

It reminded me of the game "Whack-A-Mole," where you have to hit the popping heads with a hammer. Only here, people were popping out, and we weren't hitting them with a hammer, we were shooting. Those we couldn't drive back in time shot at us. Such was this game of survival. At that moment, I didn't even think that I was shooting at people, I didn't think about anything, as it used to be when I played shooters on the computer. You just fire at the targets.

And while we were driving them back, Malu quickly darted into the corridor and, under our cover, made a dash for the balcony.

"Syringa! Fall back!" he yelled and began to return fire. The wall in front of him exploded with plaster fragments several times because of bullets hitting it. "Box! Cover her and then leave a gift!"

How I was supposed to leave a gift, Malu naturally didn't tell me. His voice was barely audible amidst all this noise. I hardly understood what was expected of me. It was as if there were two consciousnesses in my head - one said that we were all going to die, and the other was responsible for my actions.

"Box! Cover me!" Syringa yelled, trying to shout over the roar of gunfire; then she crouched down, popped into the corridor, and dashed to the balcony exit. By that time, the attackers, it seemed to me, had multiplied. They shot back too energetically, already trying to go on the offensive, when...

The first thing I felt was a blow, as if someone had hammered into my shoulder, and searing pain, as if a heated drill had been driven into my shoulder bone, which was where I felt the impact. But in addition to the burning pain, I felt warmth. Warmth as if a hot water bottle had been applied there. I didn't even understand what had happened.

However, the blow to my shoulder made me stagger back, leaving myself exposed. My next burst of gunfire hit the wall while another "gift" landed in my stomach, though I didn't feel it much. It was just a punch-like impact followed by numbness.

I had read somewhere that nearly ninety-five percent of bullets miss their target, and the majority of fatalities occur among support troops, not infantry. Seems like I'd fallen into the category of those who still catch a bullet.

At least I had enough time to dive back into the room from the gunfire and fall to my knees, clutching my belly. Blood, naturally, was there. However, the reality was that I didn't feel any pain, which could mean two things - either everything was good or bad. These are universal answers that can be given in any situation. Joking aside, I was feeling somewhat uneasy.

I felt a chilly sweat break out over my body, and I surprisingly felt cold and weak. The kind of feeling as if I would lose consciousness any minute now…

I don't know by what sheer will, but I managed to get up, swaying. My head was spinning, but I could still control myself so far. The automatic rifle had fallen out of my hands and lay nearby. I didn't even try to reach for it.

Alright... I need to get out...

No sooner had I thought about this when Malu dashed into the room, firing a burst into the corridor.

"Box... Fuck, you've been hit!"

"I noticed," I mumbled. The feeling that I was about to pass out had receded, which was good. But I was still shivering. However, for some reason, I felt calm, not caring about the consequences.

"There's another one with impulse, and that bastard is throwing fireballs! We need to get out of here, it's been six minutes already. The cops will arrive and give our asses a hard time any minute now."

While complaining about this, Malu walked over to a box of grenades and pulled out two flashbangs and two regular ones. He quickly took off his shirt and tank top, stuffed them into one of the wooden boxes, tossed a few grenades and a magazine from the automatic rifle on top, then lit a lighter and set it on fire.

"That's it, Box, we run before it blows up here with us. Are you still alive there?"

"Yeah, not dead," I mumbled.

Meanwhile, the shooting continued in the corridor. And it seemed to me that the shots from the enemy side were getting closer, louder, and more frequent, while from Syringa's side, they were becoming less and less frequent.

As soon as Malu approached the door, he immediately jumped back. A literal pillar of fire, as if from a flamethrower, struck towards the balcony right in front of him. Literally, a wall that lasted about a second and silenced Syringa's gunfire. On the other hand, the gang's shooting intensified, becoming much more confident.

"Damn assholes... life teaches them nothing," Malu sighed and, as if nothing had happened, pulled the pin out of a flashbang grenade, then threw it into the corridor. There were shouts of "Grenade!", running feet, and after a couple of seconds, a bang that painfully hit the ears. A regular grenade followed, and even Malu covered his ears, though it didn't help much. The blast still hit hard.

Following the grenade, another flashbang flew out, and then yet another ordinary grenade. As soon as the last one exploded, we darted into the hallway and onto the balcony. By that point, my head was ringing, and I could barely hear. Syringa kept shooting, preventing them from getting close.

"Have you called Ali?" Malu was also shouting, evidently hearing nothing. In response, Syringa just gestured her head toward the street. The truck was already parked beneath us. "Perfect… Well, let's get on with it, shall we?"

He grinned insanely, picked up two bags, and threw them down. Two more bags followed, after which Malu swung both legs over the concrete parapet, winked at me, saluted, and jumped down.

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I won't lie, even with the chaos in my head, the ringing in my ears, the pain in my stomach and shoulder, coupled with the chills, my heart skipped a beat. It skipped so much that I briefly blacked out. I rushed to the railing and… breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him moving in the truck bed.

"Don't dawdle!" Syringa shouted at me, discarded her gun, and, without a moment's hesitation, swung over the parapet just as easily. It was incredibly stupid, as she could have landed right on Malu.

But no. With my heart in my throat, I watched as she fell for a few moments, then landed off to the side, just as Malu had climbed out of the truck bed and was running to the cabin.

So… it was my turn?

At that moment, I realized how insane my plan was and how crazy I was for suggesting this truck stunt. It was hard to imagine how Malu had been able to jump down without hesitation. I didn't even think about Syringa; as far as I understood, she could survive a fall from that height - I had already realized that she wasn't human, although I refused to believe it. But nothing motivates you to face death, like the prospect of another kind of death.

The mere sound of footsteps made me want to jump down immediately. Amazing…

And so, despite my weight, I quickly threw my legs over the parapet. At the moment when the footsteps were just a couple of meters away from me, I pushed off the edge with my hands, throwing my bulky body into the void.

My heart was pounding in my throat, overflown with terror. Everything inside felt as if it was tickling, like when you swing hard on a swing. I could literally feel my own organs inside me.

Or maybe I just imagined it.

Just as I imagined that those one and a half or two seconds stretched out in time. They were as short as they were long, as if the very flow of time had been disrupted at that moment. All five floors flashed before my eyes, replaced in an instant by the sky - I was flipped in the air during the fall.

And I landed on my back.

Which, by the way, was for the better.

What did I feel at the moment of landing? Softness and a sharp braking, along with my own heartbeat. I could still hear Syringa's voice, who was banging on the cabin, shouting, "Go! Go!" - but it was somewhere far away, beyond the border of my little world that had formed around me for a few minutes.

In front of my eyes towered two eight-story buildings, stretching to the sky, standing next to each other, between which the truck was now parked. A second later, they were already drifting away under a loud and steady engine roar, occasionally dropping revs when the gears were switched.

No one shot at us in pursuit, although I did hear the approaching sirens.

Laying in the soft truck bed, I didn't try to get up. I just lay there, gathering my wits.

It's hard to describe this feeling. It's like passing an exam when you've done your part and know everything is fine - everything's behind you. Your heart is still racing, but you know for sure that everything is already fine, and you're not afraid. You feel relief. That's what I was feeling at that moment. It overwhelmed me so much that I didn't even want to move. My muscles had simply turned into ground meat.

Although the pain in my shoulder, burning and sharp, as if someone had shoved a heated rod into it, also played a significant role in my reluctance to move. In my stomach... well, it hurt there, but I wouldn't say it was very severe. Though a bullet in the stomach is essentially death if it hits something. Without medical help, I would be a goner very quickly.

When we had driven far enough away, there was an explosion. I felt it even in my internal organs. I slightly raised my head to see a huge cloud rising from the corner of the building where that room was. And a second later, all those three floors above the corner room began to collapse with a crash. It looked like a tower of numerous dominoes slowly crumbling down.

So, from an ordinary criminal, I had also become a terrorist. Just wonderful.

As we drove, sirens wailed everywhere, passing either next to us or somewhere far away.

There were so many of them that it seemed someone would stop us at any moment…

"Hey, Box, are you alive?" Syringa's predatory face blocked my view of the sky. Her large, elongated pupils stared into my eyes, creating a sense of unreality. And those ears, cat-like... Her gaze shifted to my shoulder. "Damn it! You're wounded!"

"I know," I mumbled, as she was already trying to bandage the wound, pulling off her jacket. "Wait, the blood isn't gushing, so the vessels aren't damaged. Is there little blood on my belly, too?"

"There is, but not much," she nodded. "Can you sit up?"

I tried, and to my surprise, I managed. We were in the truck's bed, and its sides shielded us from prying eyes on the sidewalk, though we could probably still be seen from behind. But I glanced at the road and didn't see a single car.

"Damn... it went clean through... But there's not much blood. Is that good?"

"Yeah, means I won't bleed out," I replied.

"Shit, we need to call Arrow's doc. They have a doctor who can help you. But first, we need to change cars."

"I'll survive it," I tried to move my shoulder and immediately felt a sharp pain, along with a sort of grinding against the bone. Probably a bullet. "What a great mission execution..."

"But look at all we got! Guns, drugs, money! If we sell the guns, we'll get even more!"

"Sure..." I mumbled and looked at her. Damn, her ears were twitching, it was incredibly... weird.

I seemed to remain in the real world, but I had the sensation that I was hallucinating. It's just madness - in our world, where there's nothing special, suddenly appears... a girl with wolf ears, if I'm not mistaken... What's next? Flying saucers and a secret world government?

It was very strange, so I guess you can understand me. Not long ago, I walked in a world where everything was normal, and now I'm looking at some kind of genetic miracle. Gray houses, ordinary streets, standard cars, a familiar school... a wolf-girl.

My world has just changed irrevocably and forever, not only because I caused a shootout in the city, trading bullets with others, but also because now I will know that there is its flip side. Much more fantastic than a stash of drugs and guns in a residential area.

UFOs no longer seemed fantastic to me.

"Hey, what's up?" she frowned. "Why are you staring at me?"

Her challenging voice didn't affect me.

"Your ears... who are you?"

"Me? I'm a girl first and foremost, so stop looking at me like that!" she waved, trying to brush away rebellious hair from her face, but the wind kept blowing it back anyway.

"It's the first time I've seen anything like this," I mumbled.

"Then welcome to another reality," Syringa smirked. "But I'm human, albeit a bit different."

As if to confirm, she showed her fingers, from which black claws protruded. I hadn't paid attention to this before, but now I doubt I'll be able to avoid looking at them at each of our next meetings. They were black, seemingly hard and sharp, presumably sharpened intentionally. I suspect they extend, like a cat's, for example.

"Can I touch your ears?" I blurted out the first thought that came to my mind. One of Syringa's eyebrows shot up.

"What? Did a bullet hit your head?"

"You're just the most amazing thing I've ever seen," I answered with complete sincerity. "I want to feel your ears."

"Don't even think about it! Do you think I'm a pet for you to stroke?!"

"I just want to understand..."

I abruptly grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her onto her back, laying down myself. A car positioned itself behind us, and it was better not to be seen by the driver.

"There's a car behind us. They might notice us," I explained before she could say anything offensive to me. And knowing that I was telling the truth, Syringa just clicked her tongue.

"Alright, feel my ears, fatso," she smiled, playfully twitching them and making them stand upright.

"I haven't seen them before, and your pupils were different," I noticed, extending my hand.

"I keep my ears hidden under my hair, it's best not to show them. As for my pupils... it's like a cat's, only mine change at will."

When I touched her ear, she flinched slightly, I sensed it. It was very soft, just... hard to describe. Those who have petted cats or dogs will understand the sensation I felt. A very thin ear, delicate and smooth, silky to touch inside and with soft fur on the outside. I could feel it quivering under my fingers, which was quite amusing.

I've never had pets, so I had nothing to compare her ears to.

"So, how is it?" she asked indifferently, though I heard a hint of the opposite in her voice.

"Amazing," I exhaled. "I would have never thought something like this exists in the world."

"In fact, the world is full of things ordinary people know nothing about," she snorted. "So, welcome beyond the edge of your world."

"And Malu and Ali, I presume they know."

"Ali doesn't, but Malu does. I don't talk about this much, so... And you better not either, or I'll deal with you like with that bum!"

"I won't," I promised, though I doubted she was all that strong.

"I also have a tail," she bragged. "But I'm not going to let you touch it."

"Your ears are enough for me," I nodded. "You know, looking at you, I'm starting to believe in fairy tales."

"Maybe that's because some fairy tales weren't just tales to begin with," she smiled.