Return

In the surreal interlude between consciousness and dreams, Alex found himself ensnared in the intricate threads of his own memories, a haunting tapestry that told tales of sorrow and betrayal. The corridor of his childhood home materialized around him, suffused with the heavy tension of arguments that seemed to permeate the very walls. A young Alex, clutching his teddy bear, stood as a silent witness to the familial discord that unfolded before him. 

As if a malevolent director cued the next scene, the setting abruptly shifted. Another memory unravelled—an episode of profound betrayal. Marco, once a trusted childhood friend and confidant, materialized in a dimly lit room, entwined in an intimate moment with Axela, Alex's first love. The flickering lights cast distorted shadows on the tableau of deception, a macabre play of darkness upon the stage of his consciousness.

The scenes morphed once again, this time to Victoria, the one whom Alex had entrusted with his heart. She callously shattered it into irreparable fragments, leaving him adrift in a void of emotional desolation. The lights flickered with increasing intensity, mirroring the tumultuous storm of emotions within him.

Then, the grand puppeteer of his misfortune unveiled himself. Ragna, the architect of Alex's downfall, manipulated the threads of his life. Memories blurred into a cacophony of schemes and betrayals, each recollection an orchestrated symphony of malevolence. The lights flickered incessantly until the room plunged into an abyss of darkness.

Within the recesses of his subconscious, the voices of his adversaries taunted him mercilessly. "Once a bitch, always a bitch." The cruel epithets reverberated, each word a venomous sting to his fractured spirit. "Shut the fuck up," an insidious whisper sliced through the darkness. "Blow it all, love," another voice mocked. "Alex, go back to your room."

A primal scream erupted from the depths of his soul as his body convulsed, jolting him into a sitting position. The darkness receded, and the room became bathed in light once more. The haunting memories lingered, etched in the labyrinthine corridors of his mind.

As Alex surveyed his surroundings, high-tech holographic screens displayed vital signs with pulsating beeps. His body floated, suspended in the air—a canvas for robotic machines that diligently stitched wounds inflicted by both physical and emotional battles.

The room itself, where Alex's prone body lay, became the focal point of the flickering lights. Bathed in an ethereal glow, it exuded an otherworldly ambiance. The rhythmic hum of the machines, the soft glow of the holographic displays, and the weight of his own existence in this liminal space painted a portrait of resilience and reconstruction.

Amidst the ethereal surroundings, Alex grappled with the remnants of his nightmares, striving to reclaim agency over his own narrative. The holographic screens continued their dance—a silent symphony of restoration. The room held the echoes of his pain, but also the promise of healing—a sanctuary within the labyrinth of his own subconscious.

In the midst of the holographic-lit room, a door whispered open, and a vision of ethereal beauty glided in. Her silhouette bespoke grace, and her every step resonated with the rhythmic cadence of healing. With a gentle smile, she greeted Alex, her presence a balm to the remnants of his troubled consciousness.

The nurse's body, a manifestation of elegance, invited appreciation. Her curves traced delicate arcs, an ode to the divine artistry of nature. Alex couldn't help but marvel at the seamless curvature that graced her form, a sight both enchanting and exquisite.

As she spoke, her voice held a soothing timbre, each word a note in the symphony of care. "Hello, Alex. I'm Nebula, your appointed nurse. You've been unconscious for two weeks."

The shock of the revelation escaped Alex's lips in a spur of the moment, "Two weeks? So, who tended to me? Who cleaned me up?" The nurse's eyes met his, and a subtle blush painted her cheeks. A playful giggle escaped her lips, and she pointed behind Alex.

Turning around, Alex discovered a male guard standing stoically in the background, a silent guardian during the unguarded moments of his vulnerability. His presence had gone unnoticed until now, prompting an awkward realization that stirred peculiar thoughts in Alex's mind.

As the nurse continued to chuckle, the guard seemed less amused, his irritation evident in the quirk of his brow. Alex, caught in the swirl of awkward thoughts, mumbled to himself, "So, does that make me gay?" The words were intended for his own contemplation, but they reverberated louder than he anticipated.

The nurse's laughter, now a joyous cascade, filled the room. She wiped away tears of amusement, the guard appeared visibly annoyed. Nebula, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the pointed elegance of an elfin feature, she addressed Alex with a playful tone.

"I think the dose of anaesthetics was a bit too strong for you. Take a rest, Alex. We'll see you soon."

In the soft glow of the holographic displays, Alex found a moment of relief from the storm within. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he contemplated the unintentional amusement he had caused. "Well," he mumbled to himself, "I think I stirred her up a bit." He chuckled softly, savouring the levity of the situation.

Nebula, her movements akin to a hypnotic dance, approached Alex with a grace that captivated his attention. Before he could fully fathom her presence, she stood by his bedside, a vision of ethereal tenderness. Gently, she cradled his head, guiding him back into a comfortable sleeping position. With a motherly touch, she tucked him in, cocooning him within the warmth of the blanket.

As Nebula leaned in, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes, she whispered in a voice that tickled the edges of secrecy, "Hey, don't tell anyone, our little secret. I was the one cleaning you up when you were unconscious. Nice abs, by the way." The unexpected compliment caught Alex off guard, and his cheeks blazed a shade of red that rivalled a cosmic anomaly.

But Nebula wasn't done. With a playful smirk, she pressed a gentle kiss on Alex's cheek, sealing their clandestine camaraderie. As she stepped back, she executed a masterful retreat, walking backward with finesse. Her index finger gracefully pressed against her lips, signalling both the guard and Alex to keep the whimsical episode under wraps.

The guard, maintaining his stoic demeanour, seemed unamused, but the twinkle in Nebula's eyes betrayed the shared amusement between the two. The room resonated with an air of light-hearted mischief, a brief respite from the weightier matters that awaited beyond the holographic veil. And so, amidst laughter and a stolen kiss, Alex drifted back into the realm of dreams, his subconscious adorned with the hues of a comedic interlude in the cosmic tapestry of his existence.