Inside Psycho’s Asylum, a subterranean headquarters located under an MMA gym, two friends howled with laughter. Cadell staggered around the purple lit room like a zombie. Elijah leaned against a poster of Naruto Shippuden, tears leaking down his eyes.

“Play the footage again,” Cadell wheezed. “I can’t breathe bro.”

A large hologram filled the spacious room, displaying camera footage of the masked robber barking threats. The men watched with eager eyes, waiting for a specific moment.

“There’s no turning back for me! The way things are now, I might as well end everyone in this--”

SPLAT!

Howls of laughter filled the room again. The cake projectile had hurtled in slow motion, smashing into the robber’s face with such a force that his neck snapped backwards.They watched the footage another three times before uploading the footage on multiple social media sites and their website.

Psycho’s Asylum was only one room out of hundreds in a 20-floor research facility called the Dome. Rows of bookcases filled with manga took up one half of the HQ, and too many posters of superheroes and anime stuck to the walls. Engraved on the ground were four bold, messy letters: “I will cleanse this city.”

“I take it you’re going Dimension 0,” Elijah asked, tugging a comb lodged in his afro.”

“What makes you say that?

“You used a quarter of your energy on an interdimensional chocolate cake?”

Cadell wagged a finger. “You’re a wise man.”

His eyes glowed purple as a black portal slowly materialized. A stabbing pain consumed him, forcing out a grimace until, eventually, he let out a long shuddering sigh.

“Sleep time. Great.”

Cadell woke up in a dark abyss comparable to the depths of the ocean. He wiped tears away from bloodshot eyes.

“Same old, same old,” he muttered.

The nightmares had begun with a brutal homicide before shifting to trauma linked to his superhero career. They happened every time he slept and were always vivid. No exceptions.

He stood up, staring into the darkness for hours. Maybe days. Maybe weeks. Not that it mattered. Time was frozen in Dimension 0. Or more precisely, time was not a concept.

From the world’s perspective, Psycho never slept. Most thought the superhero was a one man army who tirelessly fought a war that couldn’t be won. Most thought the shocking crime rate during the night would simply rise again once he was dead.

“But they’re wrong,” Cadell muttered, emerging from a portal leading to a rooftop.

He closed his eyes as a vicious headache finally grabbed his attention. It had always been present, intensifying whenever Cadell’s eyes turned purple, but he'd somehow learnt to ignore the agonizing pain by practicing in Dimension 0. Five years ago, it was a sign that he would lose control and massacre any living thing within sight, an atrocity his Ex-girlfriend had coined “Going Psycho.” Now it was a constant, harsh reminder.

Cadell listened to The Voice. Similar to the headache, it was ever-present. He ignored it most of the time because it vividly ranted of slaughter.

But sometimes, embedded within the bloodthirst, The Voice spoke the truth.

This city is cursed, boy. It must be cleansed.

Cadell opened his eyes to a crimson sky.