"Hey, seriously, Harry! Sleeping on the job!"
A heavy palm slammed against Harry's back, jolting him awake with a harsh shudder. Disoriented, he raised his head, ready to snap at whoever disturbed him—until he took in his surroundings. Confusion clouded his face, and his anger dissolved into dread as he recognized familiar details: the stale office air, the buzzing of coworkers' conversations, the blindingly bright lights.
He was back on Earth—or somewhere eerily like it.
The manager stood over him, arms crossed, shaking his head with a scowl. "You expect me to pay you on time after slacking off like this, idiot? Think again!" With that, the manager stomped off, muttering to himself when he didn't get a response.
Harry barely noticed; his mind was whirling. _What is this? Why am I here? I'm supposed to be... gone._ He stared down at his hands, fingers flexing automatically. The skin on his palms was rough, the nails unevenly clipped. He knew these hands, yet something was off.
"I'm not Harry... No... I'm Teras. I'm Axel Teras!" He mumbled to himself, his voice escalating as he looked around. His heart thundered, and his eyes darted to every corner of the office, searching for something—or someone—that could explain this nightmare.
But the more he looked, the sharper his surroundings became: the papers piled on his desk, the co-workers minding their business, the smell of stale coffee. It was all too real.
Abruptly, he pushed himself up, ignoring his manager's annoyed glare as he bolted out of the office. As soon as he burst through the doors into the sunlight, he ran down the street, ignoring honking cars and the stares of pedestrians. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he couldn't stop. He had to know—needed to see the place where it all started.
After a few blocks, he found himself at the edge of a busy street, facing a sealed manhole. A wave of memories crashed over him, the image of the darkness swallowing him as he'd plummeted below replaying in vivid detail. This was where Axel Teras had died.
"Why is it sealed?" he whispered. His voice cracked, barely audible. His gaze lingered on the metal cover. _My sister, Trisha... My friends, everyone... It all felt so real._ His knees buckled, and he slumped down right there on the crowded street, drawing curious glances from passersby.
"So... it was all just a dream," he whispered. He was back to being Harry, just another office drone on Earth. Axel Teras was gone.
They laughed, and Scarface lunged at him, throwing a wild punch. Harry ducked, his instincts kicking in, honed from battles in another life. As he dodged, he swung back, landing a solid punch to Scarface's jaw that sent the thug stumbling backward, clutching his face in shock. Discover exclusive content at empire
"That was your first and last warning," Harry growled. He glanced at the other three, who were no longer laughing.
They rushed him all at once, fists and feet flying, but Harry moved with purpose and precision. He dodged, sidestepped, and countered their attacks. His body moved almost on autopilot, muscles remembering the countless battles he'd fought as Axel. With a swift kick, he sent one of the men sprawling, and a well-aimed punch had another staggering back, clutching his gut.
The last man hesitated, looking at his fallen friends, and then turned tail, sprinting down the alley without a second thought. Harry stood there, breathing heavily, fists still clenched as he watched him go. For a moment, he felt like Axel Teras again.
The kid on the ground looked up at him, wide-eyed and trembling. "T-Thank you, mister..."
Harry knelt down, offering a hand. "Are you okay?"
The boy nodded, tears streaking down his face. "I thought they were gonna... you saved me."
Harry managed a small smile, helping the kid to his feet. "Get home safe, alright? And don't let punks like that scare you."
As the boy ran off, Harry stood alone in the alley, the adrenaline fading. He felt a strange mix of sadness and fulfillment. For just a few moments, he'd tapped back into that strength, that courage he'd found as Axel Teras. But as he stepped back into the quiet streets, the weight of his ordinary life crept in again, smothering the fire he'd felt.
_Dream or not_, he thought, _maybe there's still a part of Axel Teras in me._
With a final glance down the darkened street, Harry turned and walked home. But as he walked, he felt lighter, more purposeful. He may never know why he had woken up here, why he was given a second chance as Harry—but he knew he would carry Axel's courage with him, no matter where life took him next.