Real World. New York.
The sky over New York was covered by a thick layer of clouds that partially obscured the sunlight. Cars moved along the streets, pedestrians hurried toward their destinations, and, as on any other day, most people were far too busy with their own affairs to pay attention to what was happening around them.
No one imagined that beyond this seemingly ordinary reality, a war was raging that threatened to destroy countless worlds.
And even fewer could have imagined that one of the main figures responsible for it had just arrived in the city.
On a residential street, in front of an ordinary-looking house, space suddenly distorted.
A crack invisible to human eyes opened for a few moments. Beyond it lay a desolate landscape covered in ashes and ruins, where the laws of nature seemed to have lost all meaning.
Then, a man dressed in black stepped through the opening.
His shoes touched the pavement, and the portal vanished behind him without a trace.
The man raised his gaze toward the house in front of him.
It was a modest home with nothing to distinguish it from the others. The garden needed tending, a few dry leaves had accumulated near the entrance, and a child's bicycle rested against the wall.
A rather ordinary place.
Precisely for that reason, the man found the scene particularly distasteful.
He had traveled from the inverted world to find the home of the person who had set everything in motion, and he had no intention of leaving empty-handed.
"So, this is where you live, little Jake Chambers…" The Crimson King smiled faintly.
He had received information about the boy long before Jonathan Belmont had invaded his domain. Back then, Jake had been nothing more than another child with an extraordinary connection to the Dark Tower, someone whose abilities might prove useful to his plans.
However, circumstances had changed.
The boy had become involved in events that had nothing to do with him and had somehow helped Jonathan Belmont find his way into the inverted world.
That was enough to pique his interest.
And, above all, to awaken his wrath.
The Crimson King approached the front door and rang the doorbell.
Several seconds passed without an answer.
He rang it again.
Nothing.
"How discourteous the humans of this reality are." The Crimson King raised a hand and moved his fingers slightly.
The lock clicked softly.
The door swung open.
The Crimson King entered the house as though he owned it, closed the door behind him, and surveyed the interior with an indifferent expression.
The living room was tidy. Family photographs sat on a cabinet, a few books were stacked in a corner, and various objects suggested that the people living there led perfectly ordinary lives.
His gaze lingered briefly on a photograph of Jake.
The boy was smiling beside his mother.
The Crimson King picked up the frame, examined it for a few seconds, and then returned it to exactly the same spot.
"A fairly ordinary family. How disappointing."
He wandered through the house at his leisure, checking the rooms without finding anyone. Eventually, he reached a small room containing drawings, pencils, and several sheets of paper scattered across a desk.
His expression changed.
He approached the desk and picked up one of the drawings.
It depicted an enormous structure rising toward the sky, surrounded by lines representing an energy spreading in every direction.
The Dark Tower.
The Crimson King studied the drawing for a long moment before murmuring, "So, you're still seeing things you shouldn't be seeing."
He placed the paper back on the desk and continued examining the room.
He found drawings of strange creatures, landscapes that did not belong to that world, and human figures that looked as though they had been pulled from a nightmare. Some were rendered with such precision that they were downright unsettling.
The child had seen far more than anyone his age should have seen.
And now, he had attracted another player to the board.
"It doesn't matter, Jake. Sooner or later, everyone pays for their mistakes." The Crimson King left the room and returned to the living room.
He was in no hurry.
He could wait.
…
The sound of keys interrupted the silence of the house.
The front door opened, and a man walked inside with a tired expression. He wore casual clothes and carried several shopping bags, which he set on a table before taking off his jacket.
"Jake? Are you home?"
No one answered.
The man frowned.
"Laurie?"
He continued walking until he reached the living room. There, he found a stranger dressed in black sitting comfortably in an armchair, one leg crossed over the other.
The man froze.
"Who the hell are you?"
The Crimson King looked up and gave him a courteous smile.
"Good afternoon. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"How did you get in here?"
"The door was open."
"No, it wasn't." The man abandoned any pretense of politeness. There was something strange about this individual, something he couldn't explain but that filled him with unease.
He didn't look like a burglar. Nor did he resemble a salesman who had gotten the wrong address.
His clothes were far too clean, his posture far too relaxed, and his smile disturbingly natural for someone who had just entered another person's home.
"I'm going to ask you one more time," the man said, placing his keys on the table. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?"
The Crimson King tilted his head slightly.
"Let's just say I'm an acquaintance of your son."
The man's expression changed.
"Jake?"
"Exactly." The stranger rose from the armchair and slowly walked toward him.
"Your son has quite an interesting imagination. He sees things other people can't, doesn't he? Strange places, impossible buildings, and men who appear in his drawings. Tell me, Lon, aren't you curious?"
Lon, Jake's stepfather, regarded him with growing suspicion.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you do. Parents usually know their children better than they're willing to admit." The Crimson King stopped a few steps away from him and asked, "Tell me, have you ever considered that Jake might actually be seeing something real?"
The man let out a nervous laugh, though there was no humor in his expression.
"My son has been going through a difficult phase. After what happened with his biological father, he's had trouble adjusting. My wife and I are trying to help him, but that doesn't mean his fantasies are real."
"Fantasies?" The Crimson King repeated the word with an amused expression.
"How convenient."
"Look, I don't know who you are or what you want with Jake, but I can assure you that you have no business being here. I'm going to ask you to leave before I call the police."
Lon pulled his phone from his pocket.
He never got the chance to dial.
The Crimson King raised a hand, and the device flew out of Lon's fingers, sailing across the room before smashing against the wall.
Lon immediately stumbled backward.
"What…?"
"I don't like empty threats." The Crimson King's smile vanished.
For an instant, the room seemed to grow colder. Lon felt an invisible pressure against his chest, as though the air had become too heavy to breathe.
He tried to take another step backward, but his legs barely responded.
The Crimson King approached without haste.
"I've traveled distances your mind couldn't even begin to comprehend. I've watched civilizations rise and disappear. I've witnessed entire worlds consumed until nothing remained but dust."
The Crimson King's voice was calm, almost gentle.
"And now, it seems I have to waste my time in a house like this because a child decided to interfere in my affairs."
The man opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"I don't know what you want from him…"
"I didn't ask you that." The Crimson King slowly raised his right hand.
Lon's body rose several inches off the floor.
His arms flailed desperately as he struggled to free himself from the invisible force holding him suspended. His eyes widened as he realized that this was no trick.
"Please…"
"Humans always do the same thing when they realize they have no chance of winning." The Crimson King regarded him indifferently.
"First, they threaten me. Then, they demand explanations. Finally, they beg."
The pressure around Lon's throat increased.
"Tell me where Jake is, and perhaps I'll consider letting you live."
Lon tried to answer, but he could barely breathe.
At that moment, the sound of a car pulling up outside reached them from beyond the walls.
The Crimson King turned his head slightly.
Someone had just returned home.