Dave pulls away from Heinz, a knot in his chest he can't quite name—rage, desire, or the bitter taste of some budding betrayal. For a moment, he feels exposed, caught in a net of contradictions, where instinct screams at him to run—to flee from this twisted attraction that threatens to unravel everything he believes himself to be. But Heinz, with a satisfied expression, doesn't stop watching him. His eyes are sharp, calculating, like a predator who knows he's hit the mark.
"You think this is going to stop me," Dave says, struggling to steady both his breath and his will. "You think with your words and… and this, I'll just forget why I'm here. That this place is mine now."
Heinz gives a lazy shrug, a flicker of mockery lighting his gaze.
"Maybe what really scares you is knowing there's nowhere else to go. That no matter the world, no matter the dimension—you're always trapped by your own chains. Your loyalties. Even your bond with Axel…"
He pauses, his voice dropping—venomous now, like his words could infect the air.
"You know it's not what you pretend it is."
"Don't talk about him."
Dave cuts him off, voice low and tight, though the name Axel feels like a crack forming inside him. And with every word Heinz speaks, that fracture widens, spilling doubts he'd worked hard to bury.
Heinz watches him, tilting his head slightly, smile stretching wider as if savoring the way Dave flounders between certainty and confusion.
"I find it funny how you always run from what's right in front of you," Heinz says, taking a measured step closer. "You could look at what's here, what you have in this world—without Axel. Isn't this what you want already? Maybe you're just afraid of what it'll cost you to admit it."
Dave grits his teeth, every muscle tense. He wants to push back, to tell Heinz he's wrong, that none of this makes any sense—but every word lands like an echo deep inside him, shaking loose the parts of himself he's worked so hard to silence.
"Tell me the truth, Heinz. Tell me why the hell I matter to you," Dave breaks the silence, his voice less sure now, a flicker of doubt threading through it. "If you believe in this… in this world, why keep helping me find my way back?"
Heinz doesn't answer right away. His expression softens, and for a moment, he just looks at Dave—truly looks at him—as if weighing the risk of his next words.
"Maybe… because I want you to choose me," he says quietly. "Maybe because I believe if you understood this world is just as real as the one you think you lost… you'd see we could build something here. Something you'll never have with Axel."
The words hit Dave like a silent blow—like a surge of distorted truths and impossible promises tangled in a web too dense to untangle. He hears something in them, something that lands deeper than he's ready to admit. That sick attraction, that unbearable connection—it holds him here. Tethers him to Heinz in a way that terrifies him.
But just as he's about to speak, something shifts in Heinz's eyes. A fleeting shadow. A flicker of danger that tightens something in Dave's gut, a warning—you're about to fall into a trap you helped build.
"If you think some confession is going to change what I know, you're more deluded than I thought," Dave says, forcing a bitter smile. "Axel is all I have. And none of this—not you, not this world—can replace that. No matter what you try, it won't be enough."
Heinz's gaze darkens. For a second, Dave knows he's found the weak spot—some hidden truth Heinz tried to keep buried under all that calm confidence.
"You say that," Heinz replies, voice tightening, "but you have no idea what's waiting for you here. Maybe if you stopped running long enough to really see…"
He pauses, and when he speaks again, the edge in his voice is cold steel.
"Axel won't give you what you're looking for. He won't, Dave. Because deep down… you don't even know what that is."
Dave doesn't answer. He just stares at him, and that crack inside—opened so casually by Heinz—splits wider, filling with all the questions he's tried to silence for so long.
Heinz, sensing his words have sunk in deeper than Dave will ever admit, takes one last step closer. His eyes are darker now, his voice a whisper, thick with restrained longing.
"If it weren't Axel, Dave… if it were me standing by your side—do you really think you'd be trying so hard to escape? Or is it easier to keep clinging to some illusion of something better, something you don't even know exists?"
The question lingers in the air between them, hanging like a blade. A challenge Dave isn't sure he wants to face. Because, no matter how much he denies it, there's a part of him—a real, dangerous part—that wants to stay. A part Heinz has already seen, already named. A part tethered to this world and everything dark and contradictory it awakens in him.
And in the silence that follows, Dave feels it—his resistance crumbling, his defenses collapsing beneath the weight of his own unspoken doubts.