And then, the hand's grip tightened, and through the swirling chaos of the rift, he saw a face—twisted and malicious, a grin that seemed to split the very fabric of reality. It was Richtofen—but not the one he knew. This was a Richtofen from another timeline, another reality—a Primis Richtofen.
Before Alex could even begin to process what was happening, the hand yanked him through the rift. The world around him distorted into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, the very essence of the game itself seemingly stretched to its breaking point. The other Four heroes rushed to his aid, firing their ray guns into the abyss, but it was too late. Alex was gone, swallowed by the rift's insatiable hunger.
The group stumbled back, their weapons smoking and their eyes wide with shock. The rift closed with a snap, leaving them in a sudden, deafening silence. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the acrid taste of fear. They had lost one of their own—someone they had only just come to trust.
The world around them was no longer the Verrückt map they had come to know. The asylum walls had been replaced by a sprawling, ancient city, its buildings a bizarre mix of futuristic technology and ancient ruins. The sky above was a swirling vortex of colors, the stars unfamiliar and alien. The ground beneath their feet was made of a crystalline substance that hummed with an eerie, unsettling energy.
Before Alex could even catch his breath, the grip on his wrist tightened, and he was yanked to his feet. He stared into the twisted grin of the Richtofen that had pulled him through, his heart racing. "Where am I?" he managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.
The mad scientist's eyes gleamed with an unsettling delight. "Ah, so you can speak," he said, his voice a chilling echo of the Edward Alex knew. "But who are you? You don't belong here."
Alex took a deep breath, his mind racing. "I'm Alex," he said firmly. "I'm from... well, I'm not exactly from here. I came from a place outside the game."
The mad Richtofen's grin grew wider, his eyes glinting with malice. "Fascinating," he mused, his grip on Alex's wrist not loosening. "An outsider with the power to bend reality. This changes everything."
Alex's mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this predicament. He knew he had to get back to his friends, to the familiar world of the zombies. He had to make this Richtofen understand the gravity of the situation. "I need you to do something for me," he said, his voice as steady as he could manage. "You need to read the Kronorium again."
The mad Richtofen's grip on his wrist tightened, his eyes narrowing. "The Kronorium?" he repeated, his curiosity piqued. "What could you possibly know about the Kronorium?"
Alex swallowed hard, his mind racing. "I know that it's a record of all possible futures," he said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "And I know that my arrival here has changed those futures. We need to fix this."
The mad Richtofen studied him for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth as if trying to peer into Alex's very soul. Then, with a suddenness that left Alex's head spinning, he released his grip and took a step back. "Very well," he said, his voice still tinged with madness. "You shall have your audience with the Kronorium."
Alex felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was short-lived. The world around him grew even more distorted, the buildings seeming to melt and reform as if made of wax. The Richtofen before him was changing too, his features blurring and shifting until he was almost unrecognizable. "You must realize," the mad doctor continued, his voice now a chilling echo in the alien air, "that once you gaze into the Kronorium, there is no turning back. The truth you seek will be yours, but so too will be the burden of knowing all that could come to pass."
"I understand," Alex said, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. He didn't fully comprehend the implications of the Kronorium, but he knew that it was crucial to their survival. He had to believe that this twisted version of Richtofen had a plan, no matter how insane it might seem.
As they made their way through the warped streets, Edward's gaze lingered on Alex's physique, his eyes scanning every inch of his new ally with a mix of curiosity and appraisal. "Your form," he began, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate with the very air around them. "It's... remarkable. How is it that you can manifest such power without any physical training?"
Alex took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "It's because of the Art of Imagination," he explained. "It's a book that gives me the power to create whatever I can think of. It's like... I have a direct line to the universe's code."
The mad Richtofen tilted his head, his interest piqued. "And how do you come by such a body?" His eyes searched Alex's, looking for any hint of deceit.
Alex took a moment to consider his response. "It's a long story," he began, his mind racing. "But basically, it's a comic book I read in my world. Captain America's world. His name is Steve Rogers, and he was just an ordinary guy, like me, until he was given the Super Soldier Serum." He paused, trying to gauge Richtofen's reaction. "So, I took everything that makes him special—his strength, his speed, his shield—and I put it all into an orb in my imagination."
The mad Richtofen's eyes widened. "Fantastisch," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "To be able to bend reality to your will without any understanding of its inner workings... It's unprecedented. It's... it's madness!" His laughter, a cackle that seemed to echo through the very fabric of the distorted world, grew louder. "And yet, here you are, a beacon of hope in this chaotic tapestry we call existence!"
With a flick of his wrist, the mad Richtofen conjured a swirling vortex of color that grew before them. "Come," he beckoned. "We shall take a momentary reprieve from this madness." He stepped into the portal, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Alex followed, the cold embrace of the void enveloping him.
The world on the other side was starkly different—no zombies, no ruins, no chaos. It was a serene, tranquil place, a stark contrast to the battle-worn Verrückt. The sky was a clear blue, and the sun shone warmly on a lush meadow. The air smelled faintly of wildflowers, and the sound of distant laughter filled the air.
Alex stumbled out of the portal, his eyes wide with amazement. He looked around, trying to take in the beauty that surrounded him. It was a stark contrast to the horrors they had just faced. His heart raced, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but he knew he needed this respite.
The mad Richtofen watched him with a twisted smile, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement. "You see," he said, spreading his arms wide, "even in the depths of chaos, one can find peace."
Alex took in the tranquil scene, the soft rustle of the grass beneath his boots, the gentle hum of unseen life surrounding them. It was a stark contrast to the relentless horror they had left behind. He knew it was a trap, a ploy to get him to let his guard down, but the weariness in his bones begged for a moment's reprieve. "What is this place?" he asked, trying to keep the exhaustion out of his voice.
The mad Richtofen's smile grew wider. "This, my dear Alex, is a small corner of reality I've carved out for myself," he said, his eyes glinting with madness. "A place where the zombies dare not tread. A place of peace, where one can ponder the intricacies of existence without fear of interruption."
Alex looked around, his heart pounding with both wonder and skepticism. It was a stark contrast to the hellish landscape of Verrückt, where the undead had ruled supreme. The serene meadow stretched out before them, untouched by the ravages of time and decay. "Why bring me here?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the battle's toll.
The mad Richtofen's smile grew even more sinister. "Because," he began, "I believe you need to understand the stakes of our struggle. In this quiet place, you can see what we're fighting for—a world where the living are not mere playthings for the dead." He gestured to the pristine horizon. "This is what we stand to lose, Alex. And it is within your power to help us save it."
Alex took a tentative step forward, feeling the soft grass beneath his boots. The scent of wildflowers was so real, so vivid, that he couldn't help but let his guard down. He had been fighting for so long, and the prospect of a moment's peace was almost too tempting to resist. "What do you need from me?" he asked, his voice still filled with caution.
The mad Richtofen's smile grew even more twisted. "Ah, the question of the ages," he mused, his eyes glinting with an unnerving light. "What is it that any of us truly need? Power? Control? Or perhaps, just a glimpse of what could be?" He paused, watching Alex's reaction closely. "I need you to understand that our fight is not just for survival, but for existence itself. This... this is what we stand to lose."
Alex nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Richtofen's. He knew the stakes were high, but the mention of 'time loops' was something he hadn't anticipated. "So, you want me to help you break the cycle," he murmured, the gravity of the situation settling on his shoulders like a leaden cloak.
The mad Richtofen's smile grew even more twisted. "Indeed," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mad intensity. "We are all puppets, Alex. Dancing to the tune of a master we cannot see. But with your power, perhaps we can cut the strings that bind us."
Alex swallowed hard, his mind racing. He knew he had to tread carefully. "The master you're speaking of," he began, his voice low and measured, "his name is Dr. Monty."
The mad Richtofen's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Dr. Monty?" he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue like a curse. "The one who orchestrates this endless dance of death and rebirth?"
Alex nodded solemnly, his heart racing with the realization that he had struck a nerve. "Yes," he said, his voice firm despite the tremble in his chest. "The one who controls the game we're all trapped in."
The mad Richtofen's expression grew darker, his eyes distant as if lost in a memory of anger and betrayal. "Dr. Maxis," he spat, his voice filled with venom. "He was a fool to trust that... that machine! And Samantha..." His gaze grew distant, a hint of sadness tingeing his madness. "She was innocent once, a tool for my experiments, but she became so much more—until Monty corrupted her."
Alex felt a chill run down his spine. This version of Richtofen had clearly suffered greatly at the hands of the man they were up against. "And you," he said, his voice tentative, "you're from another time, aren't you?"
The mad Richtofen nodded, his gaze returning to Alex. "Ja," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I am from a time before the Great War, before the Group 935, before all of this madness began. I was young, naive, eager to change the world. And I did. But not in the way I had intended."
Alex studied the madman before him, seeing the shadows of the past etched into his eyes. "How did you end up here?" he asked, his voice gentle. "What happened to you?"
The mad Richtofen took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes focusing again on the serene landscape. "It's a long story," he said, his voice weary. "But suffice it to say, I made a mistake. A mistake that cost me everything. I underestimated Dr. Monty and his plans. He... he has control over time itself. And he uses it to manipulate us all." His gaze grew intense. "Maxis, Samantha, the others—they are all pawns in his game. And now, so are you."
Alex felt the weight of those words, his mind racing with the implications. "No," he said firmly, "not yet. I have a way to change this."
The mad Richtofen's gaze snapped back to him, his expression a mix of surprise and intrigue. "A way to change the very fabric of our existence?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism. "Tell me, Alchemist, what is this grand plan you have concocted?"
Alex took a deep breath, his mind racing. "The Elemental Shard," he said, his eyes meeting Richtofen's with a steely resolve. "This all started when you—Edward, Nikolai, Tank, and Takeo—were connected by the Elemental Shard. It bound you across all realities, didn't it? He paused, letting the information sink in. "But it's also what's been causing the reality distortions. If we can find a way to remove you from this omniverse and send you to another, one where Dr.Monty does not have Control over , where Agartha does not exist then it would remove the Apothicons and the Keepers then all his creation would be Banished into the Dark Aether and a new universe, one without them would be Created ! we might stand a chance of breaking free from this loop."
The mad Richtofen studied him, his expression unreadable. "And how do you propose we do this?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.
Alex took a deep breath, his thoughts racing. "We have to gather the others," he said firmly. "Dr. Maxis, Samantha, and the rest of the Primis team. I have a way to let us all escape this." He closed his eyes, focusing his power. The air around them began to shimmer, and a moment later, figures started to materialize.
First to appear was Dr. Maxis, his face etched with the same lines of age and wisdom that Alex had seen in the game. The doctor looked around in confusion, his eyes widening as he took in the serene meadow. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voice sharp.
Next came Samantha, the child who had been so twisted by the dark forces of the game. But here, in this pocket of reality, she looked as innocent as any other child playing in a field of flowers. She blinked up at Alex with curiosity, a hint of recognition in her eyes. "Do I know you?" she asked, her voice small and unsure.
Then, the ground trembled as Primis Tank and Takeo appeared, their weapons drawn and ready for battle. The burly Russian and the stoic Japanese soldier took in their surroundings with a mix of confusion and wariness. "What is this place?" Tank rumbled, his eyes never leaving Alex.
The mad Richtofen took a step back, watching as the others materialized. "You can do this?" he murmured, his skepticism slowly giving way to a flicker of hope.