Then the dark stairs of the hall descended slowly under Alia's feet, like time itself. The sound of her every step throbbed all around.
Margaret stood at the top of the stairs, about to say something—but stopped.
ZAINKHA was looking down, with a sharp gaze in his eyes.
Alia slowly came down and stood in front of them both. Her eyes were fixed directly on ZAINKHA.
An intense, resentful, yet deep gaze.
She took a step forward, reached out for ZAINKHA's collar and grabbed the collar of his shirt.
Everyone's breath stopped.
Then she said—
"You are my old love, the love that broke me...
And today you want me to stand by your side?"
ZAINKHA showed no reaction, only said— "I didn't break you, I built you—this Alia, who stands here today."
There were no tears in Alia's eyes, but an internal storm cast a shadow on her face.
"You left... destroyed everything about me." Margaret slowly said— "None of us were ready then, Alia. But today we know—without you, we are incomplete."
Alia slowly removed her hand from ZAINKHA's collar.
Her face was hardened, and the fire was back in her eyes.
"You want to stand by me? Then there is one condition—there is no place for weakness in my war.
You have returned, but have you changed?"
ZAINKHA now stepped forward and said— "You show the way, Alia. I'm ready to walk through fire."
Alia backed away, and her old victorious smile returned to her face.
"Then come. The game begins now—my way."
And in the distance, the sound of that old bell echoed,
the one that only rings—when a revolution is born.
Alia slowly began to laugh—a laugh that carried both terror and reassurance at the same time.
From the folds of her veil, she pulled out a small, shiny key ring.
But it was no ordinary key ring.
It looked metallic, but the mysterious blue stone in the middle shimmered with light.
Tiny geometric patterns surrounded it—as if ancient technology codes were hidden within it.
Alia first held the key ring out to Margaret.
"This is not just a ring," she said.
"This is a shield. When death descends around you, this ring will save you—if you truly stand by me."
Margaret took the ring with wonder, but there was no hesitation on her face.
She looked up and said, "My loyalty is now only to you."
Then Alia turned and looked at ZAINKHA.
"There is one for you too," she said.
And she placed another ring in his hand.
ZAINKHA took the ring and remained silent for a while.
A glint of deep understanding appeared in his eyes.
"The fact that you can still trust is the most dangerous thing," he said.
Alia leaned in and whispered—
"And that dangerous trust is my weapon."
In their hands now, they held the key rings of that ancient power—
that not only protects the body,
but also the mind, memory, soul—everything is wrapped in an invisible armor.
This ring binds the three of them into a new alliance.
Now they are ready to jump into the fire of a silent war together.
A roar echoes in the distance, lightning outside the window.
Alia says—
"The game has begun. But this time I will write the rules."
Alia takes a step forward. There is no fire in her eyes now—only a deep, strange peace.
Her hands—the hands that once touched fire, that were soaked in blood,
today extend towards Margaret and ZAINKHA.
The two of them—hesitate for a moment.
Then Margaret takes Alia's right hand.
Her eyes hold a mixture of regret and reverence.
She bows her head and plants a soft kiss on the back of Alia's hand.
Then ZAINKHA steps forward and lifts Alia's left hand.
There is no past in his eyes, only the respect of the present.
He plants a deep, steady kiss on her palm.
Alia's body does not tremble, but her inner walls seem to melt a little.
She says in a low voice—
"You have returned to send the message that standing by my side is now your path too."
The three are now tied in a triangle—fire, shadow, and light.
This is not just the beginning of power,
this is the oath of a new age.
An ancient mantra seems to float in the air—
> "Where truth is in the heart, fire flows not from a weapon—but from honor."
>
Alia lowers her hands and looks up—
"Come on, let's take an oath before the war. This time no one will be left behind."
Alia lowers her hands and stands silently for a while.
There is no sign of war in her eyes then,
but the glint of a new plan.
Margaret and ZAINKHA start walking back a little,
just then Alia says in a soft voice—
"We have a party tomorrow night—in the middle of Moscow, at Stella di Mosca
On the highest floor, a city above the city.
Will you come?"
They both stop.
ZAINKHA gives a half-smile, turns his neck, and says—
"When you call, how can we not come?"
Margaret brings a small, crooked smile to her lips and says—
"I will come. But it won't be a party—it will be a show of force.
If you can, we'll light a fire together."
Alia smiles and nods her head lightly.
"Tomorrow night will be a declaration.
Not just with wine and music... it will be the beginning,
where friends will have smiles on their faces,
and enemies will have terror."
The two of them slowly walk out of the palace.
Alia is left behind, standing by the throne,
a silent queen in the shadow of the red light.
That smile of power returns to her lips.
She slowly says—
"Now it begins... with light, through the fire." Scene cut.
The camera slowly zooms out from the royal palace...
Then a soft transition to the glittering Moscow city at night.
The city's skyscrapers are lit up, with lines of traffic below, and a car moves through them—
A black Rolls-Royce Phantom.
The road itself seems to give way under the car's tires.
Interior scene:
Alia is sitting on the right, wearing a velvet regal dress.
The dress clings completely to her body, her shoulders are bare, and she wears a choker with a small diamond around her neck.
But what stands out most—
A special, luxurious watch glitters on her left wrist—
Platinum Edition Vacheron Constantin—
This watch is not an ordinary piece of jewelry,
it is an encrypted device that not only tells time,
but also tracks her, sends signals, and provides protection.
Sitting to her right is ZAINKHA, in a black suit, with his light hair combed back, and black sunglasses over his eyes.
And to her left, Margaret, wearing a three-piece suit and sunglasses.
All three are silent.
But there is only one language in their eyes: this night belongs only to them.
A classic symphony plays softly on the car's dashboard.
ZAINKHA says in a low voice— "You don't know what Moscow is about to witness tomorrow night."
Alia looks out the window, the city lights reflecting off her glasses.
She whispers—
"They don't know how history can change in a single night."
Margaret smiles lightly and says—
"Then tonight's queen is you, Alia."
Alia looks down at her watch.
A small beam of light emerges from the watch's crystal, visible only to her eyes.
A nervous smile on her lips.
"Tonight is not just a party... it's the beginning."
The camera pans out again—
And from a distance, you can see the red carpet, live music, and a crowd of journalists in front of Hotel Stella di Mosca
The car door is about to open.
The car stops in front of the hotel,
Stella di Mosca—a famous, extremely luxurious establishment in Moscow.
There is a guest list, flashlights, cameras,
and a crowd has gathered.
As the car door opens, everyone turns to look—
because the presence of the three of them sends a flash of electricity through the entire environment.
First, ZAINKHA gets out.
His suit has a glittering silver finish, with sunglasses on his eyes.
His walk, like a great warrior, is confident and cold.
He seems to leave the impression of his power on everyone—
he could be a social media star or a ruthless mafia boss.
Then Margaret gets out.
She is wearing a three-piece suit.