Jorge gasped as he was suddenly washed over with a sense of complete and utter vertigo. The air rushed past his ears, the brightness of the world on the other side of his closed eyes was enough to make the man wince and cry out. So violent was his removal from this world that the detective was fairly certain that a lesser man would have probably perished in the process. But as every swept up and around him, suddenly the detective felt cold concrete against his back. He struggled and twitched before finally he just gasped.

“Huuuurk!” his stomach muscles contracted violently as he breathed in a deep breath.

The detective coughed and hacked as he felt the cold concrete against his back and slowly tried to open his eyes. He didn’t know what to expect this time or if Game Lord had pulled him into yet another level but it distracting enough that he forced himself to peered through the blurriness behind his eyes. It was just horrendous, the pain that he felt, but he needed to dig through in order to keep going.

Palms flat against the ground, the man struggled as he forced himself to sit upright and peered around. His eyes were still hurting, still blurry, but they were quickly trying to adjust. So far he saw only vague shapes and outlines but nothing seemed to be threatening just yet. But, as he finally sat up all the way and slouched over a bit, he rubbed his eyes once more, trying to clear them, before he looked around his surroundings.

He would only sigh…in relief.

It was a building…just the interior of any, regular warehouse. And this definitely did not feel fake or seem like it was some computer game. He had made it back to the real world!! Quickly he glanced down to his belt and saw that there were no signs of all the weapons that he had collected during his adventure and all the cuts and bruises were long gone from his body. Wow, say what you will about Game Lord, but the little punk certainly had a power that was utmost and truly terrifying. Every wound he had received during the games felt so real! His mind made it real…

Shaking his head a bit, Jorge grunted as he climbed to his feet. His moved were sluggish and filled with grimaces but they at least let him know that he was still alive. And they felt real enough to the point that he could not argue the validity of this world. He was back, but first he needed to find someone.

Peering around, it looked like he was still in the warehouse he was investigating when he was first captured. It seemed that Game Lord had just kept him inside the whole time and did not even bother to lash him down. He probably figured that Jorge would have died in his little game but that being false must quickly have become apparently to the game manipulator.

He staggered as he took a step but Jorge kept his legs strong as he tried to look around, spying for anything sign of the man who had had just battled through four levels of mutant power against mutant power.

“Simon!! Where are you?!” he yelled out in a hoarse voice. He received no reply so he limped on, eyes scanning the abandoned interior of the building for any sign of the man or his flunkies. But it was the gasp for breath that immediately drew his attention.

Eyes narrowed, Jorge made straight for a room that was labeled “Supervisor” at the other end of the building and had a glass window broken in.

Jorge moved as fast as he could, trying to keep himself from shaking all over with weariness. He was exhausted from his excursions but he knew that he could not just lie down and give up. He needed to see this through to the end. Sure he was alive and back in the real world but if he let Simon escape now, who knows what other horrors he will commit once he regained his own strength. No, after everything Jorge had been through, he was simply not going to allow anyone else to have to go through them. He needed to act, and he needed to act fast!

Storming up to the room, Jorge kicked growled as he suddenly kicked out; the door didn’t stand a chance. A crack echoed through the empty building as the door was crushed in, falling off of to the side and barely hanging on by its bottom hinges. A snarl on his lips, the detective rushed into the room.

There, lying on the ground and half-conscious, was Simon LaRourke. The man looked almost like he had been lobotomized as he struggled to catch his own breath. Apparently having created such an elaborate set of levels, on top of having to contend with a very pissed off police detective, the man did not realize how much of himself he had put into that last level. He was barely breathing, eyes rolled up into his head as a thin layer of drool rolled out of the corner of his mouth. Every once and awhile he gave out a gasp of breath but that was the limitations of his moments.

Jorge sighed as he slowly walked up to the man and knelt down. All around Simon lay the broken glass from the nearby window. Apparently when Jorge was in the game he had somehow really affected the real world? He shrugged. He didn’t want to get under the logistics of it. Instead he merely narrowed his eyes as he glared at the man on the ground.

“Simon LaRourke,” he said, even if the man couldn’t hear him, “You are under arrest. You have the right to an attorney…”

Jorge sighed as he sat in the back of an ambulance, letting the medics check his vitals, milling around him and asking him questions. Yes, he knew his name. Yes he knew who the president of the United States was. Yes, he knew what year it was. It was standard procedure for anyone who was a victim. And, as much as the detective did not like the prodding and vital checking, he let the emergency workers do their jobs. After all, they just wanted to make sure that he was okay.

After he had read Game Lord his rights, to which the man was scarcely conscious for, Jorge had called his precinct. They responded in minutes and Jorge was never so happy at that moment to see the badges of his brothers and sisters in duty.

Quickly the scene was investigated and was found to be completely clean of any member’s of Game Lord’s gang. Everyone fled the second that Simon had started his game with Jorge, not wanting to get in the crossfire of the mutant’s ire when Jorge had conquered the first level. So the whole time it had just been Jorge and Simon, alone in that building.

A review of surveillance tapes showed that Jorge was not exactly still during that whole adventure. While Jorge was indeed living out the scenarios in his mind, physically he was moving around and darting throughout the entire warehouse, taking on level after level. Jorge had to admit that the video did look rather silly, but at least that was all he did. Things could have gone much, much worse.

He sighed as he waited for the medic to finish checking his blood pressure. When he finally unstrapped it from his arm, the man nodded.

“Everything looks good detective. You’re lucky.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jorge said with a nod. As he climbed out of the ambulance and glanced down the way, he spied the second medic team wheeling Simon into the back of the ambulance. He still looked exactly like he did when Jorge found him. Apparently…no change. He sighed as he shook his head. The kid had brought it on himself.

Rubbing his sore shoulder the man turned and headed for the rest of his co-workers. He still needed to give his statement. But as soon as it was done…he was putting this day behind him…