The city greets him with a hostility that makes his skin crawl. Dave walks the cobbled streets with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets and his eyes sharp with caution. The air carries a strange weight, as if the very atmosphere is rejecting him. The few people he passes eye him with suspicion, muttering under their breath, and when he dares ask for directions, they recoil as if he had uttered a threat.
"Heinz's house?" he asks an old man with a weathered face carrying a cloth bag.
The man studies him for a moment, then scowls.
"Get lost," he growls, clutching the bag tightly to his chest.
"Excuse me?" Dave raises an eyebrow, confused.
"I said get out of here!" the old man barks, taking a step back. "You're not welcome. Don't look for him! Leave him alone!"
Dave opens his mouth to protest, but the man has already turned on his heel, hurrying away.
"Perfect," Dave mutters to himself. "Charming as ever."
He looks around.
The street is nearly deserted, save for a few figures who, upon noticing him, cross to the other side or disappear down alleyways. The buildings are worn, their facades cracked and crawling with graffiti that reads more like warnings than mere vandalism.
What the hell is going on here? he thinks, continuing aimlessly.
Little by little, the surroundings begin to feel familiar. He recognizes a small fountain in the center of a square—though in his dimension it bore a statue of a demon with outstretched wings, and here only the corroded legs remain. Then, a corner shop with emerald-stained glass windows—he remembers seeing it once before, somewhere in his own world.
And then he sees it: the building.
A tall, narrow structure made of dark brick and slit-like windows. There's no sign, but something in his chest tells him this is the place. In his world, Heinz lived in a flat on the third floor of an identical building—though that one felt less… ominous.
He crosses the street and ascends the stone steps to the entrance. The door is closed, but as he approaches, he notices an engraving on the frame: a serpent coiled around a raven. He knows that symbol. He saw it on Heinz's watch.
The building's door is ajar. Dave slips inside, silent, alert to every creak and whisper from the walls, which seem to confess old and dusty secrets. When he reaches Heinz's floor, he stops.
The apartment door is slightly open, and from within come muffled murmurs—like a sinister melody.
With a final breath of courage, Dave pushes the door open and steps inside.
There sits Heinz on the floor, surrounded by scattered books and writings. But he is not the same Heinz Dave left behind. His face is shadowed, drawn with exhaustion and mistrust that Dave doesn't remember ever seeing in him.
"I knew you'd come," Heinz mutters, not looking up. "Though I didn't know if it would be the Dave I know… or one of your other versions."
Dave closes the door behind him, feeling both relief and resignation wash over him at those words.
"Heinz, I need you," he says plainly, no time for pretense. His eyes lock onto Heinz's, searching for a flicker of the connection they once shared in the other world—a spark of recognition to help him believe in something. "This isn't my world."
Heinz watches him in silence for a long moment, as if weighing every word, every line on Dave's face.
"So you've figured it out," he replies at last, a mixture of relief and bitterness in his voice. "No, it's not your world, Dave. Nor mine. We're prisoners of a dimension that doesn't belong to us. A reality that toys with our minds and our wants."
Dave swallows a sigh. He had hoped Heinz would offer something clearer—some answer to cut through the fog of confusion. But all he gets is confirmation: they are both trapped in an endless farce.
"So what is this place?" he asks, frustration leaking into his voice. "An alternate dimension? An illusion? A punishment?"
Heinz shrugs, as if the question itself is too heavy to bear.
"I don't know. Maybe some kind of limbo. A space between worlds that pulls you in when you start asking too many questions… or wanting too much." He pauses and meets Dave's gaze. His green eyes shine with curiosity—and something deeper, something Dave can barely name. "And you, Dave… what is it that you want?"
Dave falls silent, stunned by the question. It's a simple one, but he realizes he doesn't know how to answer. He's spent so long trying to escape, trying to get back to his world, that he's never stopped to ask himself what he truly wants.
"I want… to go back. I want to be with Axel," he says, though the words sound hollow in his mouth. Because deep down, he knows it's not just about that—not after everything they've been through.
Heinz nods, as if he expected that answer, but there's a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
"I figured. And yet, here we are—stuck in this… cycle. Over and over. Maybe it's because there's something else you're supposed to find before you can go back."
Dave clenches his fists, frustrated. It feels like he's moving in circles, that every answer only spawns more questions. But before he can speak, Heinz rises and steps closer until they're just inches apart.
"Dave, maybe you shouldn't be searching only for a way out... Maybe you need to consider that there are things here—in this place—that could give you what you seek, even if it's not in the form you expected."
Dave feels the weight of those words, and something stirs inside him. Could this world be offering him something he never imagined? Something his obsession with going "home" has blinded him to?
"I can't… I can't just give up," he replies, voice trembling. But it's more for himself than for Heinz.
Heinz smiles—a sad, resigned smile, like he's heard it before.
"I know, Dave. But remember this: some places were never meant to be left. Not without a price."