Chapter One Hundred Seventy-One: Alex, Part Two

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He lifted his hands and stared. They were there, yet not—outlined in flickering pixels, shifting between solidity and static. Fingers curled experimentally, and the movement echoed with a delayed, ghostly shimmer. The void around him pulsed faintly, like a living heartbeat, its dark expanse stretching endlessly.

Small motes of light, fragmented like shattered stars, blinked in and out, casting sharp, cold glimmers. There was no ground, yet Alex stood; there was no sky, yet space yawned above him, a vast emptiness that swallowed sound. He flexed his fingers again, marveling at how they shimmered between his reality and this digital abyss.

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The voice that whispered from nowhere was mechanical, dispassionate, and with it came a faint vibration beneath his feet. A jagged shape began to form in the distance, pixelated and dark, something that promised both awe and the unknown.

Alex's world shifted abruptly, the pixelated darkness around him shuddering with an unfamiliar vibration. For a moment, he was torn between two places—the cold, flickering void of the VR world and the sudden, jarring cacophony from outside. The next thing he knew, a crash ripped through his senses. His body lurched as Jason’s panicked shout penetrated the digital murk, reaching him like a distant echo.

Before he could fully process, the helmet was yanked from his head, pulling him violently back into the real world. Light and sound assaulted him; he gasped, eyes snapping open, unfocused and glassy. Everything was blurred and disjointed—Jason’s wide, frantic eyes, the overturned chair, and splintered wood scattered like jagged teeth across the floor. His head spun, the world tilting as he tried to shake off the fog.

The sharp clatter of boots against the linoleum sent a chill down his spine. A gang leader, scarred and seething, stepped into the chaos, flanked by two men with hard, unfeeling eyes. The leader’s sneer cut through the room, flicking between Alex and Jason like a predator assessing prey.

“Double trouble. Which of you is Jason?”

Before the question fully landed, instinct took over. “I am,” they both spat out simultaneously, voices firm despite the fear rippling beneath.

The leader’s smile twisted, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes. “Real fucking cute. Guess we’ll have to beat the shit out of both of you.”

The next moments blurred into a storm. A fist struck Jason’s stomach, doubling him over with a grunt. Alex’s chest tightened as he watched his brother stagger from another blow, each hit more brutal than the last. Rage and fear clashed inside him, sparking an unyielding protectiveness.

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“Stop it!” Alex yelled, surging forward. He grabbed at the leader’s arm, fingers digging into rough fabric. “Leave him alone!”

A thug spun, eyes cold, and backhanded Alex with brutal precision. Pain exploded across his cheek, sending him sprawling to the floor, the metallic taste of blood sharp on his tongue. Alex pushed himself up, eyes blazing as he met the sneer of their attackers. “Jason, get out of here!”

“Hey, look what we’ve got here,” one of the thugs called, his grin widening as he lifted the VR helmet. The room seemed to shrink as Alex’s pulse hammered in his ears, fear crystallizing into raw defiance.

Reality fragmented. Alex’s vision split between the chaos of the apartment—Jason’s fists flying, a chair shattering against a thug’s ribs—and another world unfolding in the dark. Stars whirled like cold embers, and amid them skittered a creature, eyes glinting with mischief and menace. Its stare pinned him, cold fingers tracing his spine.

Before he could comprehend what he was seeing, a boot crashed into his side. Pain ricocheted through him, and he hit the floor hard. Jason’s shout rang out, fierce and ragged, but already distant, swallowed by the roar in Alex’s head.

Alex’s vision swam, pain crashing over him in relentless waves. The chaos roared, muffled and dissonant, blurring the edges of reality. The helmet lay crumpled beneath the brute’s boot, its sleek metal now twisted and mangled, a hollow remnant of hope. Every breath clawed at his chest, sharp and unforgiving. Blood traced a jagged path down his face, warm and metallic on his tongue. He blinked it away, eyes locking on Jason’s frantic movements.

Jason lunged, fists flying, creating just enough of a distraction to shift the room’s savage focus.

“Now’s your chance, Alex! Run!” Jason’s voice cut through the cacophony, raw and desperate.

Run? The idea blazed through Alex’s mind, absurd and utterly foreign. There was no way he was going to run.

Alex pushed himself up, determination flaring, but the room spun as the gang’s attention turned toward him. Fists and boots connected, each blow a starburst of pain that sent him reeling. He lashed out, catching one of them in the jaw, but it barely slowed them down. A wiry thug with a snake tattoo snarled, landing a kick that knocked Alex breathless. He hit the floor, vision darkening at the edges.

“Please! Stop!” Jason’s voice cracked, raw with terror. Alex reached out, their fingers brushing for a moment, a fleeting touch that felt like an anchor. Another fist crashed down, breaking that contact, sending him sprawling.

Every strike blurred into the next, pain folding over pain until it became a relentless wave. The gang leader stepped forward, eyes glinting with cold satisfaction as he landed a brutal kick to Alex’s ribs. The sickening snap echoed through the room, sharp and final. Alex’s body shuddered, the fight draining out of him, movements slowing.

He could still hear Jason’s voice, desperate and hoarse, pleading for them to stop. The room dimmed, faces and shouts fading to shadows. Another kick, a white-hot flash behind his eyes. Then another presence filled the doorway. Alex’s heart jumped as a familiar voice followed—a voice he hadn’t heard in too long. Albert. He was here, come to help. A shotgun's metallic click cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. Pain flared bright, followed by darkness.

The last thing Alex saw was Jason, still fighting to reach him, anguish carved deep into his expression before the world faded completely, leaving only silence and the fall.