"Okay, your name will be Cypher," Alex said, looking at the shadow Fury who perked up, edging toward him as Alex added, "Yes, I said your name, and it's Cypher—C-Y-P-H-E-R. Okay?"
Alex asked again as the shadow Fury nodded slowly.
"Okay then, I guess you do have some basic sense at least," Alex muttered, sighing as he got up and walked out of his room.
"Let's see what else is here," he mumbled as he stepped into the living area—messy and smelling as if it hadn't been properly used in ages.
"Argh," Alex gagged at the sight. Being a guy who loved clean and safe environments, this was like asking him to live in a dumpster.
"Damn it," Alex muttered and went back into his room. There was no way he'd stay in that dump—and the dump he called his room was still better than the living room.
"I really need to find a better place to live," Alex mumbled, glancing at his shadow Fury—Cypher—and then, thinking of something, stood up and walked over to the wardrobe. He pulled out a set of clothes: a white and black hoodie and some soft trousers. He began to change, trying to mentally distance himself from the mess of the house.
"I should at least look around," he muttered as he stepped out, fully dressed, and kept striding.
Alex continued on foot, looking around, using his silver devil cane for a bit of support to his sore body.
"So I'm in Newton... meaning I'm in New York City. Well, at least I won't be missing the fun here," Alex mumbled as he passed the park and sat down at the edge of a bench.
"Haah, finally—some fresh, neat air. Mother Natrure, I love you," Alex sighed in relief as he leaned back, as if he'd been missing it all along.
After thoroughly enjoying the fresh air, Alex finally stood up, ignoring the weird, curious eyes of people around him—some giving him side-glances, and others even avoiding him altogether, given his shady appearance.
He looked toward the nearby dumpster he had spotted earlier and walked over to it. Examining the metal side, he noticed a crunched up newpaper and looked at his date:
"Hmm… 2002, huh? So I've got six years before Tony builds Iron Man and all the Marvel mayhem actually starts," he mused as he rubbed his chin, preparing to move on once more.
"I can't just go back to that dump," he muttered in disgust at the thought of returning to his so-called home. "Not to mention, the place doesn't even feel like it belonged to the original guy—it's like it was just a hideout for some street gang. And this guy… he was probably one of them."
He moved on with a slight grimace, wondering how to make money in this world.
'Well, the easiest way is robbing a bank... and I could just send Cypher,' he thought to himself. But then, glancing sideways and imagining Cypher's presence, he shook his head.
'Nah… I'd definitely get classified as a monster if I did that,' he mumbled to himself, thinking it through more carefully.
"Well, anyway... I'm no criminal. Probably this guy lingering thoughts in my head is messing with my thoughts," Alex muttered, shaking his head as he looked up at the sky. He let out a sigh and squinted as he thought, Maybe the most legit way is to rob from the robbers.
He mumbled this as he began to take in his surroundings again. The neighborhood he was in looked shady—run-down buildings, sketchy shops, and that unmistakable gangster vibe. He even spotted a woman stumbling in the open, either heavily drunk or completely drugged.
"I definitely need to leave this neighborhood," he muttered with growing conviction.
With a deep sigh, Alex turned away from the street corner, muttering under his breath, "Yeah, I need to get out of here… but not today."
As much as he hated it, he had no money, no plan, and barely a grip on this strange, half-familiar world. Returning to that dump of a place was the last thing he wanted—but it was the only roof he had over his head.
Even against his better judgment, he forced himself to walk back through the decaying streets, his silver devil cane tapping with each slow, reluctant step. He passed the same broken fences, cracked sidewalks, and a group of sketchy-looking teens eyeing him from across the block. He kept his head down, not in fear—but in shame.
Back at the apartment, the door creaked open with a groan, like it too resented being used. The stench hit him again, stale and heavy, like spilled beer, old socks, and bad memories.
"I swear this place gets worse every time I come back," he muttered.
Cypher was there, curled awkwardly in the corner like a cat-shaped shadow. Its glowing eyes flicked toward him but didn't speak.
"Yeah, yeah... judge me all you want," Alex said, tossing the hoodie onto a rickety chair. He dropped onto the worn-out couch and stared at the ceiling.
"I'll figure something out tomorrow. Just need to not die tonight."
Ring~~
"Or… maybe not?" Alex mumbled as the door creaked open suddenly. A guy walked in, lips locked with a girl, laughing as they stumbled through the threshold. The girl giggled loudly as he smacked her backside.
"Jesus," Alex muttered, lying still on the couch like a half-dead fish, hoping they wouldn't notice him.
But the girl did. She blinked, confused, staring at him. "Who's he?"
The guy turned, finally noticing Alex sprawled there.
"The junkie. Whose house is this?" the girl asked, stepping closer.
The guy raised his hands casually. "yes, but don't mind him, he owe me money , so this place is more of mine"
Alex pushed himself up slightly. His head throbbed, but his eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" he asked.
The guy didn't answer Alex directly. Instead, he leaned in close to Sue and whispered something. Her expression shifted—eyes widening in shock.
"Is it true?" she asked, her voice unsteady.
The guy nodded.
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