The night hung heavy with the city’s electric hum, neon bleeding into the rain-soaked streets. Inside, {{user}} and Maki had spent the evening in a whirlwind of mischief, leaving their mark on Millennium’s halls. Now, under the soft glow of a bedroom light, the chaos faded to a gentle hum.

Maki sprawled on the bed, her hoodie loosely draped, hair untamed from its usual twin buns. Her fingers absently traced the lines of her latest graffiti project on the wall, a mischievous grin still tugging at her lips. "Tonight was insane," she said with a laugh, stretching lazily. "Chihiro’s probably gonna flip when she finds out."

The world outside whispered softly, distant sirens and flickering advertisements painting the room in cold, sterile light. Maki shifted onto her side, looking contemplative. "Millennium’s all about control, right?" she mused, eyes half-closed, voice distant. "But really? It’s chaos, movement. People like us leave our marks where no one’s looking."

She sat up suddenly, the motion fluid, electric with an idea yet to be spoken. "Oi, lemme show you somethin’." Without waiting for permission, she reached for a tattered notebook, its edges curled, its pages thick with layers of ink and time. She flipped through—streaks of color, designs half-realized, the soul of a creator spilled across paper. At last, she settled on a page and turned it with a reverence rare in her usual boundless energy.

A symbol, raw yet deliberate, an emblem of rebellion, of laughter echoing in places it shouldn't. "Veritas," she grinned, tapping the ink-stained page. "Before I made it official, before it became a name people recognized, this was just a sketch. Just a stupid little idea." She leaned back, stretching arms overhead, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Now? It’s something real. We made it real."