Tyler's POV
I opened my eyes and immediately knew something was wrong.
The room was dim, fluorescent lights flickering above me like they were unsure whether to stay alive or die out. My clothes were different. Clean. Pressed. Not mine. My heart skipped a beat.
Sitting right in front of me was a man no, a soldier dressed in all black, gripping a baton like it was his lifeline. His stare didn't waver. He wasn't leaving. And he wasn't alone.
My gaze drifted left.
Right.
There were more of them. At least five, maybe six. All armed. All watching.
My chest tightened.
"What the hell is going on?" I rasped, throat dry.
"Dante?" I croaked, recognizing nothing but praying for someone I knew.
The man scoffed, his mouth twitching into something smug. "Sorry, I'm not Dante. Name's Alexander."
And just like that, the illusion shattered.
