The man in front of Alex didn't even flinch.
Alex expected a reaction: surprise, mocking laughter, or perhaps a call to the guards to drag the "lunatic" standing before him to the asylum. But Dr. Blakk's face remained cold and calculating, like a mask of ice. The revelation of a parallel world didn't seem to be a novel concept to him; either that, or his capacity for emotional control was simply inhuman.
He doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm crazy, Alex thought, feeling a cold sweat trickle down his back.
However, seeing that Blakk's expression didn't shift, Alex took his silence as an invitation to continue. He proceeded with his story, detailing every step of his absurd journey. He explained how a quiet day in his city, waiting for a traffic light to turn green, ended in total darkness. He narrated his awakening in the mushroom jungle, the initial fear, the forced adaptation, and how he went from a confused victim to a leader capable of hijacking caravans.
"...and that is how I gathered the fleet of 16 Mecha-beasts, the cargo, and those 20 mercenaries," Alex concluded, his throat a bit dry. "All to get to you."
Dr. Blakk remained silent for a few more seconds, processing the account. Then, with a slow and deliberate movement, he swiveled his leather chair to turn his back on Alex, gazing out through the large window overlooking the courtyard of his immense industrial fortress.
"I believe you are referring to The Burning World... or the 'Surface,' as the Shanes call it," Blakk said. His voice resonated in the office with a know-it-all tone, grave and deep.
Alex froze. He knew the place?
"Anyone else would take you for a madman, a simple lunatic babbling incoherencies," Blakk continued, watching the smoke rise from his factories. "But let's just say that I... have my own connections to that place."
For a brief instant, Blakk's mind traveled to a distant memory. He thought of his own son, Tad, who was currently lost in that upper world, far from his influence. The mention of the Surface wasn't a fantasy to him; it was a painful and strategic reality.
Blakk rose from his chair and turned back toward Alex, clasping his hands behind his back. His serious countenance gave him the air of a strict and dangerous professor.
"Certainly, your story is quite similar to mine, boy," Blakk confessed, taking a few steps closer. "I too, a long time ago, found myself alone and bewildered in a place that was not Slugterra. A place without a ceiling of stone, exposed to the infinite void."
Alex's eyes went wide. "You... you were there?"
"I don't know how or why," Blakk interrupted, pacing around Alex like a predator studying a new species, "but I woke up on the Surface. I was able to come down; I found the way back by my own means thanks to my superior intellect. But to leave? To go up?"
Blakk let out a short, humorless laugh. "That is almost impossible."
He stopped in front of Alex, looking down at him with superiority.
"Going down is easy, Alex. Gravity helps. But ascending against the current of the worlds... that requires a power that not even I have finished mastering."
"Damn it..."
"I really wanted to go home," Alex whispered, his voice cracking.
His eyes, which just moments ago had challenged the most powerful man in Slugterra, began to falter. A deep, dark disappointment took hold of him, poisoning his will to fight. Although his spirit hadn't been completely broken during his survival in the jungle, hearing the confirmation of the impossibility of return from the mouth of someone who had actually been there was a devastating blow to his morale.
He had no reason to doubt his words. He knew instinctively that Blakk wasn't lying to him; his tone was too serious, too final.
Dr. Blakk watched as the hope drained from the boy's face. It was the precise moment.
"Don't get discouraged so fast, boy," Blakk said, stepping in until he was just a foot away from Alex. "I have a proposal that could turn out to be... very beneficial for both of us."
Alex slowly raised his head to meet the tycoon's gaze.
"You know something, Alex? Your talent and your willpower are greater than you think. I want that," Blakk said with his arrogant voice, though softened to sound almost paternal. "You are a diamond in the rough in a mountain of gravel."
Blakk wasn't lying, at least not about that. To him, Alex was an exceptional find.
As he looked at the young man, Blakk thought with disdain about his current subordinates. They were incompetent. Idiots who served him for a bit of gold or out of fear, but whose loyalty was as fragile as their aim. They were inefficient, losing time and again against the Shane Gang. It made his blood boil to think that his entire empire sometimes wobbled because of a 15-year-old kid and his friends.
But Alex... Alex was different. This kid had risen from nothing. Without training, without support, he had survived the jungle, hijacked caravans, and assembled a fleet to arrive at his doorstep. He even had the audacity and tactical intelligence to use the name "Blakk" to keep twenty treacherous mercenaries in line. That didn't bother the doctor; on the contrary, it impressed him.
However, it wasn't just his skill that interested Blakk. What really attracted him was that he could control him.
He could make him swear absolute loyalty because he held something invaluable that Alex desperately needed: Hope.
Blakk extended a hand, offering a Faustian pact.
"Join me, boy."
The offer hung in the heavy air of the office.
"Help me gain the strength I need. Help me achieve my goals and crush those who oppose progress," Blakk continued, staring intently into Alex's eyes. "When we succeed, I will be powerful enough to break the barriers of this world. Be one of my elite soldiers, Alex."
Blakk leaned in slightly, sealing the trap with a promise:
"I give you my word: if you serve me well, I will find a way to send you home."
Alex returned to the main hangar. He had one last piece of business to attend to: firing his "employees."
He approached his Hyena Mecha-beast and opened the rear cargo compartment. From there, he pulled out a heavy chest and handed it to the leader of the mercenaries, a guy with scars and a permanent scowl.
The mercenary opened the chest, and his expression shifted from expectation to absolute disgust.
"Are you trying to play me, stupid?" the man growled, spitting on the ground. "This isn't what we agreed on. There's barely enough gold here for half of us."
The mercenary moved his hand toward his blaster, annoyed and ready to cause trouble. Alex, however, didn't even flinch. He leaned slightly toward him and lowered his voice, speaking in a conspiratorial and poisonous tone.
"Listen to me closely. You're right, it's too little to split among twenty..." Alex whispered. "But it's a fortune for one."
The mercenary paused, confused.
"You can also take all the extra Mecha-beasts we brought," Alex continued, planting the seed. "If I were you, I'd take all the gold, take the bikes, and get very far away before the other nineteen idiots realize there's no payment for them."
The mercenary looked at the gold, then at the parked Mecha-beasts, and finally at his companions waiting outside, oblivious to the conversation. Greed flashed in his eyes. Without saying another word, he slammed the chest shut, turned on his heel, and hurriedly left the hangar. Although he wanted to attack Alex for the insolence, he knew where he was. He was in the heart of Blakk Industries. If he tried to unholster his weapon here, the snipers would turn him into a sieve in less than a second.
Alex watched as the mercenary walked away to betray his own team. Problem solved.
Satisfied, Alex turned and headed deeper into the fortress. On his way, he ran into Maurice, who was still there, absorbed in his tablet reviewing the warehouse inventory.
"Oh, hey there!" Alex greeted with a charming smile, waving his hand as if they were old friends.
The administrator turned his head and looked at him with a furrowed brow, adjusting his glasses.
"You haven't left yet, kid?" Maurice asked with his usual dry tone. "The mercenaries are already retreating. You should follow them before Dr. Blakk changes his mind about letting you leave alive."
"Oh, don't worry about me. I'll be staying here for a long time," Alex replied, walking past him and giving him a friendly (and bold) pat on the shoulder. "Apparently, we're allies now. Get used to my face."
Leaving a perplexed and annoyed Maurice behind, Alex continued his path toward the interior of the fortress.
As he walked through the metallic corridors, his smile vanished, giving way to an expression of cold determination. He had agreed to join Blakk Industries, yes. He had become a soldier for the villain. But it wasn't out of blind loyalty.
It's temporary, he told himself. Just until I have enough power or find a better option to return home.
For now, Alex was a wolf in sheep's clothing in the lion's den.
BLAKK INDUSTRIES - PERSONNEL FILE: CLASSIFIED
Name: Alex [LAST NAME NOT RECORDED]
Origin: Unknown (Claims to come from the "Burning World" / Surface).
Age: 18 years.
Note: Subject left his family nucleus upon reaching the legal age to operate motor vehicles.
Physiology:
Height: 5'10" (1.78 m).
Psychological Observation: Shows signs of an inferiority complex regarding his height, claiming to be the "shortest" of his lineage. It is recommended not to mention this fact in his presence to maintain cooperation.
Special Ability: [Tactical Hyper-Perspective]
Description: Innate capacity to analyze the environment, calculate ballistic trajectories, and predict physical movements with almost mathematical precision in real-time.
Side Effects: Unknown at this time. Monitoring required.
Threat Level:
Lethality Index: 1/10 (Low). Subject possesses a significant moral barrier; hesitates or refuses to execute the "final strike" to kill a human opponent.
Tactical Index: 8/10 (High). Despite his relative pacifism, his ability to dismantle entire squads and manipulate situations makes him a strategic asset of high value.
Weaponry and Preferences:
Signature Slug: Thresher (Shark / "Tiburo").
Reason: Subject expresses an aesthetic fascination with the slug's transformation into its "shark" form, considering it superior in design.