CHAPTER 190: A BAD DREAM (2)

In an unfathomable expanse of darkness, a solitary man floated, unmoored and entirely weightless. Alex found himself suspended in a vast void, where the absence of direction rendered him disoriented.

As he turned slowly, all around him was an abyss that seemed to stretch infinitely, innocent yet ominous, a black canvas sweeping into eternity. He felt isolated, as though he were the last remnant of a forgotten universe.

"Where am I?" he whispered, the words barely forming before they dissipated into the silence that was as heavy as a shroud.

The echo of his voice was swallowed whole by the oppressive stillness, leaving him with an unsettling sense of solitude. The air was thick with nothingness, devoid of scent or sound, an eerie tranquility that felt almost suffocating.

With every gentle sway of his body, Alex realized how utterly lost he was; it was as if he were a leaf caught in a vacuum, drifting without purpose.

No stars twinkled in the void to provide guidance, and there was no foundation beneath him to anchor his thoughts.

The chill of the abyss brushed against his skin in a way that heightened his awareness of the stark emptiness enveloping him.

He felt a profound sense of vulnerability, his senses dulled, as if he were trapped within a surreal dream from which he could not awaken.

Just moments ago, he had been enveloped in warmth and comfort, resting in the soft embrace of Nyxara.

He could still recall the sensation of her silky fur against his fingertips, the soothing rhythm of her breath nearly lulling him to peace.

In contrast, the profound silence and the oppressive darkness around him now pierced through his soul, evoking an unsettling sense of dread.

It was a world entirely at odds with the vibrant life he had just experienced.

His brow furrowed, confusion solidifying into a tight knot in his stomach as he searched desperately for something, anything to cling to.

How had this happened? In this vast and impenetrable void, was there any way to find his path back?

The thought spiraled like a shadow within his mind, blending with the fear that threatened to engulf him in this endless night.

Had someone moved him? Was this a trick? An illusion?

His thoughts spiraled, trying to understand the logic, the rules of this place.

The silence cracked.

A voice boomed from nowhere—and everywhere.

"I’m kind of disappointed, Alex."

It was deep and gravelly, thunderous in tone but soft in volume, laced with judgment and disdain.

Alex whipped around, searching the darkness. "Who’s there?!"

"Just because of one lady," the voice continued, smooth yet sharp, "your drive weakened.

Your purpose fractured. Have you forgotten what they did to you?"

The space vibrated with the weight of each word.

"A girl you barely know. A few conversations after years of being apart, and you start doubting everything. Your rage, your pain, your mission—diluted."

Alex’s jaw tightened. The words cut deeper than he cared to admit.

The voice, now a whisper laced with venom, coiled around him.

"You disappointed me."

He knew that tone.

The inflection. The bitterness. The familiarity.

"...So it’s you," Alex said, steady but quiet. "My demon."

The void trembled.

From the distance—if distance existed here—a figure emerged.

It floated toward him, formed from swirling shadows that bent the void around it. It was him.

Same build. Same eyes. Same face.

But not the same.

Tendrils of crimson-black mana flickered and writhed from its form, slithering through the air like serpents in search of prey.

The very essence of chaos emanated from it, a palpable force of contained violence simmering just below the surface, ready to erupt at any moment.

Its smile was languid, dripping with mockery, a predator’s grin betraying a deep-seated hunger for dominance.

Yet, it was the gaze fixated upon Alex that held the most chilling quality—eyes that radiated an icy, pure disdain, as if judging every frailty and weakness that lay before it.

"You are slipping," it whispered, with a voice that slithered through the air like silk brushing over rough shards of broken glass—a sound both alluring and dangerous.

"What happened to the one who carved their way through the very fabric of fate to arrive here? The monster you vowed to become? The monster we pledged to become together."

Alex remained silent, caught in the weight of those words.

"You think that by dreaming of a normal life, you can become normal?" it continued, the sneer curling its lips, venomous and mocking. "You believe you can wish for peace, turn your back, and abandon justice? That’s a delusion."

A shadow flickered across its features, emboldening the truth lurking behind the predator’s façade. "It’s not possible; they will always hunt you."

The demon floated closer, voice cold. "Seems like that lady did a number on you."

A pause.

Then the whisper: "But I can bring you back."

Alex’s gaze sharpened.

"All I have to do," the demon said, raising a hand, "is remind you."

The void shattered.

Cracks splintered across reality, breaking the darkness into shards of shadow and mist.

A new scene formed.

Black fog peeled back. Walls formed. Lights. Music. Laughter.

A party.

Alex stood in it now. Real. Whole. Unmasked.

He blended among people he once knew—Lauren and her friends.

There she was.

Her laughter filled the air, a melodious sound that danced around them as she leaned in closer. Her eyes sparkled with a vibrance that seemed to illuminate the darkness.

In an instant, a shadow flickered across his face, shifting the warmth into something colder, darker.

Then—

His expression hardened, the corners of his jaw tightening as the brightness of that moment faded.

Because he remembered.

This night.

The last night before everything unraveled, like threads pulled from a tapestry. It had started with a low vibration that prickled at his skin, swelling into a deafening explosion that shook the ground beneath them.

Screams tore through the air, a cacophony of panic rising as smoke billowed and choked the sky.

An overwhelming wave of guilt crashed over him, swiftly followed by a surge of fiery anger that ignited deep within.

Beside him, the demon-Alex lingered, arms crossed, a figure cloaked in shadow, eyes glinting with malice.

"You let yourself feel again," it hissed, its voice a slithering whisper. "You let hope seep in."

Alex’s gaze fell upon his younger self—laughing, vibrant, so achingly human.

Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Then the demon leaned closer, its tone softer yet laced with venom.

"And you know how that ends."

The laughter, once a sweet melody, dimmed, overtaken by the haunting echoes of distant screams that curled around him like smoke.

The scene around him darkened, shadows clawing at the edges of his memory.

As if pulled from the depths of his mind, another memory surged forth.

A dark tunnel unfurled before him, stained with blood—the remnants of a life interrupted. His siblings lay in pools of crimson, their innocence extinguished. In the distance, he saw his father, locked in brutal combat, fury and desperation etched across his features.

His younger self stumbled forward, fear clawing at his chest, as his mother’s desperate voice rang out, pleading for him to stop.

Alex clenched his fists, feeling the weight of that moment pressing down on him, witnessing his past self flee from the horror.

Silent tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over.

Rage ignited within him, sharp and vicious—an ember buried deep but never extinguished.

The demon watched him with a twisted expression, amusement glimmering in its eyes.

"Promising," it said, a sinister grin spreading across its face. "You still have that fire. But let’s make sure it stays."

With a swift snap of its fingers, the scene began to replay.

Once.

Then again.

And again.

Two hundred and fifty times, each repetition searing the memory deeper into his soul, each time Alex felt it—physically and emotionally—like a relentless tide crashing upon the shore.

The pain. The shame. The anger.

Until it dulled.

Until numbness set in.

The emotions faded. Replaced by cold, clinical clarity.

He became hollow.

Driven only by the mission. A shell.

The demon watched, eyes gleaming.

"Unexpected," it said, amused. "I wanted rage. But this... this is better. Nyxara will have to work harder now. I’ve flushed it all away."

Alex turned.

"Can you send me back?"

The demon smiled wider as it heard that emotionless voice.

"Of course."

A snap of fingers.

"Just make sure we don’t have to repeat this section again"

Reality cracked.

Lights flickered. Shadows warped. Faces melted from joy to horror.

The world twisted into a nightmare.

Then—

Alex sat upright.

Breath ragged. Chest heaving.

His hotel room. Silent. Dim.

Nyxara stirred beside him.

She blinked. Tail twitching.

Alex sat motionless.

Eyes blank.

And Nyxara... watched him in growing horror.