Jacob walked home with Lora and Ava after an exhausting day. Ava, her small feet dragging, looked up at her father, her eyes drooping with fatigue.
"Daddy, carry me, please," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fists.
Jacob smiled and picked her up, her little arms immediately wrapping around his neck. "You're getting heavy, girl," he teased, though his heart swelled with love for his daughter.
Lora walked beside them, their hands brushing as they made their way to their apartment. It wasn't much—a cramped, rundown unit in a rough neighborhood, but it was home. As they reached the door, Jacob juggled Ava and the keys before finally unlocking it and pushing it open.
Inside, the apartment was as familiar as it was worn—faded wallpaper, chipped furniture, and the constant sound of their neighbors arguing. But it was their space, and they made it work.
Ava was already dozing off in Jacob's arms, so he gently laid her down on her small bed in their one shared bedroom, pulling a blanket over her small frame. Lora stood by the kitchen counter, her arms crossed, watching him with a mix of exhaustion and concern.
"You've been quiet tonight," Lora said, her voice low. "You okay?"
Jacob sighed, running a hand over his face. "Just… thinking about a lot. Life. The future. What I'm gonna do to make things better for us."
Lora's expression softened. She moved closer, placing a hand on his arm. "You're doing your best, Jacob. I see how hard you're trying."
"I know. But it feels like it's never enough," Jacob said, his voice rough with frustration. "I'm thinking about signing up for the GED classes. Maybe even learning a trade."
Lora's eyes lit up with hope. "That's great! You've been talking about doing that for a while."
"Yeah, it's time I stop talking and start doing," Jacob said, determination settling into his bones. "I can't keep letting the streets drag me down."
After Lora kissed him on the cheek and went to bed, Jacob sat down at the rickety kitchen table with his phone. He pulled up a list of GED programs and trade schools, searching for something that could give him a stable future. Each click felt like a step in the right direction, but doubt still gnawed at the back of his mind.
After registering for GED classes and reading up on trade schools, Jacob felt a small spark of hope ignite in his chest. He could turn things around. He had to.
His eyes fell on the small box sitting at the corner of the table—Mr. Will's old things. He hadn't looked through them since the funeral, but something tonight called him to it. He opened the box carefully, pulling out a few worn books, an old pocket watch, and a ring all of which except for the ring Mrs.Will handed to him in this box after the funeral. The ring was plain except for a few runes, silver, and unremarkable at first glance, but when Jacob held it up to the light, he swore he felt something.
A soft, warm pulse.
Jacob frowned, narrowing his eyes. He held the ring closer to his face, feeling the warmth dissipate as quickly as it came. He blinked, shaking his head. It had to be his imagination—maybe he was just tired. He placed the ring back in the box and rubbed his temples.
"You're trippin' Jake. How could something like this fall from the sky, do you really think this could be some kind of magic?" he muttered to himself, pushing the thought away.
He finally crawled into bed beside Lora, his mind still restless. As he drifted off to sleep, strange dreams plagued him—visions of the ring soaring through the universe, past stars and planets, glowing with an otherworldly light. It felt… alive, somehow, as if it was waiting for something, or someone.
Jacob woke up with a sudden jerk, his body drenched in sweat. His heart pounded in his chest as the remnants of the dream faded from his mind. He glanced at the clock—it was barely 5 AM.
Lora stirred beside him, her voice thick with sleep. "You okay?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm.
Jacob forced a smile, shaking his head. "Yeah, just a bad dream, that's all. Nothing serious."
Lora frowned, her eyes searching his face. "You sure? You can tell me if something's wrong."
"I'm sure, babe. Go back to sleep, you've got the day off. You deserve to sleep in," Jacob said, kissing her on the forehead.
Lora smiled softly, closing her eyes again. "Alright, but if you need to talk, I'm here," she mumbled before drifting back into sleep.
Jacob lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The dream still lingered in his mind, but he shook it off. He had more important things to focus on.
He got out of bed and made breakfast for the family—eggs, toast, and some juice. It wasn't much, but it was enough. By the time Ava woke up, her usual bright smile lit up the room.
"Daddy, can I wear my sparkly shoes today?" Ava asked, already bouncing with energy.
"Sure thing, princess," Jacob said, chuckling as he helped her get dressed for preschool. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before they left the apartment, his heart aching with love for his daughter.
After dropping Ava off at preschool, Jacob made his way to the GED office. The process was straightforward, and soon he was officially signed up for classes. It felt like the first real step toward something better.
Next, he went to a trade school he had found online. When he walked in, the receptionist directed him to Clarence, the admissions officer. Clarence was a chubby, middle-aged man with dark brown skin and a bald head. He looked Jacob up and down with a critical eye, clearly unimpressed by Jacob's appearance—his skinny build, above average height, short fade, and neck tattoos gave off the vibe of someone who was nothing but trouble.
Clarence leaned back in his chair, his voice dripping with skepticism. "This is hard work with low pay at the beginning. If you think you're gonna flake, might as well not waste my time."
Jacob felt the man's judgment like a slap in the face. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. In his most formal voice, he replied, "I'm here to learn, sir. I'm serious about this. I've got the tuition ready."
Clarence stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the man's expression softened, just a little. A small smile tugged at his lips. "Alright then. Meet me here at 6 AM sharp tomorrow. Don't be late, or don't bother coming at all. And just so you know, we'll pay you while you learn, but it ain't much."
Jacob nodded, relief washing over him. "I'll be here, sir. 6 AM sharp."
Clarence grunted in acknowledgment before turning back to his paperwork.
As Jacob left the office, he felt a small sense of accomplishment. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He still had the rest of the day ahead of him, and he realized he had finished everything earlier than expected. He decided to check in on Drew.
He called Drew a few times, but there was no answer. Frowning, Jacob headed to Drew's apartment anyway. He needed to get his laptop back, and Drew was probably just asleep. When he arrived, he knocked on the door several times but got no response.
A feeling of unease crept over him.
The door was unlocked.
Fearing the worst, Jacob pushed it open and hurried inside. There, in the dim light of the living room, Drew lay slumped on the worn-out couch, a string tied around his arm and a needle lying nearby.
"Drew, what the hell are you doing?!" Jacob's voice shook with anger and fear.
Drew, barely conscious, looked up at Jacob with glazed eyes. The sight made Jacob's stomach turn. His friend was slipping into a pit he feared he couldn't climb out of.
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It had been a few months since Mr. Will's funeral, months since Mrs. Will left for Jamaica, and months since Jacob started trade school. Every day was grueling, the pay barely enough to cover the basics, but he refused to give up. It was hard, harder than he had expected, but Jacob pushed through, not just for himself but for Lora, Ava, and the memory of Mr. Will. He couldn't let them down.
Even on his rare days off, exhaustion weighed heavily on him. One of those days, Ava asked him, her little voice quivering, "Daddy, why don't you spend time with me and Mommy anymore? Do you not want to see us?"
The question broke his heart. He picked her up, holding her tight, pouring every ounce of love he could into the hug. "I'm working hard for you and Mommy, okay? I love you both so much."
She smiled through her tears, and together, they made friendship bracelets, a promise between the three of them never to take them off until they fell off sealed by a pinky promise.
Jacob glanced at the bracelet on his wrist as he got ready for work the next morning. It was a simple piece of string adorned with a few colorful beads, but it meant everything to him. As he was about to leave, his phone buzzed—Drew was calling.
Drew told him that "Big A," a top member of their gang "Real Young Killas" or "RYK" , was having a birthday party in two days and that he should come to show respect. Ever since Jacob had distanced himself from his criminal and gang related past, he had also become more distant from his friends and gang members. He agreed, thinking it would be a good opportunity to catch up and reconnect.
The day of the party arrived. Jacob dressed in his nicest street clothes: ripped jeans, a plain shirt, some slightly pricey sneakers he had stolen a few years back, and a small gold chain, the only thing his mother had left him when she passed away. He also wore a cheap fake gold watch he had bought at a retail store and Mr.Wills ring that he had started wearing more often . He glanced at his waist, where his trusty 9mm pistol sat tucked into his waistband—a reminder of the streets he'd come from.
The hotel was packed, just as he had expected. Music blared from the speakers, lights flashed, and a DJ kept the crowd lively. Jacob spotted Drew in a corner, attempting to chat up a group of women. Drew looked thinner than the last time they'd met, probably due to his worsening drug addiction. Jacob smirked and approached, slapping Drew's shoulder from behind, causing Drew to jump in surprise. After recognizing him, Drew plastered on a large smile, which surprised Jacob for a moment.
Drew turned back around to say goodbye to the women, who seemed relieved to be free of his awkward advances. Drew returned, and they exchanged small talk, catching up on what they had been doing.
Jacob talked about his time in trade school, the tough hours, and how draining it was. Drew raised an eyebrow and casually asked if that meant Jacob had already spent the $20,000. Jacob replied that it was still in his savings, collecting interest. Drew seemed to smile a bit too brightly, suggesting Jacob should use it for something. Jacob just smiled and redirected the conversation, asking how Drew had been.
Drew's response was a mix of casual updates and gang chatter, touching on the increasing attacks from rival gangs and a few recent arrests. How everybody missed having him around, he danced around the topic of his own struggles, creating an atmosphere that felt awkward and heavy. The conversation was strained, the unspoken tension hanging in the air between them.
They eventually moved to a larger group. Jacob found himself feeling out of place, sensing a distance from the gang members, as if they were subtly shunning him for stepping away from the life. The atmosphere felt tense, not like how Drew had described it.
Suddenly, Big A made his entrance, greeting everyone with his loud, booming voice.
Big A was a towering figure who embodied his nickname perfectly. Though he was of average height, his massive frame—easily over 350 pounds—made him seem like a colossus among men. His designer pants and shoes spoke to his flashy taste, but it was his shirt that caught the eye, stretched tight and barely containing his girth. Around his neck, a gaudy chain glinted under the lights, and his mouth sparkled with a set of gold teeth. Tattoos were his personal art gallery, covering his neck and arms in a colorful display of ink.
He took center stage, a booming presence that commanded attention as he thanked everyone for coming to his birthday bash. With a grin that barely fit on his face, he announced that he'd also be playing a few tracks from his latest album and filming a music video. His speech over, he returned to a circle of heavily tattooed men and a group of stunning women. Alex noticed the women's smiles, which held a trace of disdain for Big A that they couldn't quite conceal. Not one to dwell on the discomfort, Alex decided it was time to make his exit. He bid Drew farewell, ready to leave behind the clamor of the party and the complicated dynamics that came with it.
As he was saying goodbye to Drew, Drew seemed startled but quickly recovered, smiling awkwardly and insisting they hang out more before the night was over. He suggested they walk over to a nearby corner store where they used to hang out as kids. Jacob found the suggestion a bit odd but nostalgic, so he agreed.
Drew informed a few of the guys they were leaving and pulled Jacob along, leading him into the cool night air. As they walked, Drew tried to make light conversation, but there was an anxiousness in his voice that Jacob couldn't quite place. Something in his gut told him this night wasn't going to end well, but he shook the feeling off, wanting to believe that maybe Drew just missed their old days together.
As they approached the corner store, the air felt thicker. Jacob's senses sharpened, his instincts, honed from years on the street, telling him to stay alert. As they neared the corner store, Jacob felt a chill run down his spine. He couldn't shake off the uneasiness, but he forced himself to ignore it, hoping he was just being paranoid. The store looked the same as it always had—its old, flickering neon sign buzzing against the darkening sky. For a brief moment, he was flooded with memories of simpler times, hanging out with Drew and the other guys, laughing and making plans they'd never follow through on.
Drew chatted animatedly beside him, but Jacob noticed a slight tremble in his friend's voice, a hint of something that made him wary. Drew led him to a small alley beside the store where they used to smoke and hide from the cops as kids. Jacob's steps slowed as they approached the alley's mouth. He could feel his heart rate increasing, his hand instinctively moving closer to the 9mm tucked under his shirt.
Drew kept glancing over his shoulder, his eyes darting around like he was expecting someone—or something. Jacob felt his muscles tense, his senses going into overdrive. "Hey, man, what are we doing here?" Jacob asked, trying to keep his voice casual, but there was a hard edge to it that he couldn't hide.
Drew paused and turned to face him, a strained smile plastered across his face. "Just... wanted to catch up, you know? Thought it'd be cool to hang out here like old times."
Jacob nodded slowly, but his eyes scanned the alley around them. Something wasn't right. The air was too still, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Drew's eyes kept darting around, not meeting Jacob's, and Jacob's instincts were screaming at him to leave.
"Drew, what's going on?" Jacob asked, his tone sharper now.
Drew hesitated, his smile faltering. "Look, Jake, I... I didn't have a choice. They paid me, okay?"
Jacob's eyes widened. "Paid you? Who's 'they'?"
Drew looked away, unable to meet Jacob's gaze. "STK man. They wanted you out of the picture. They know you were the one who—"
"Who what?" Jacob interrupted, his anger rising. "Who took out Little Balla? Yeah, I did. He tried to kill us. He was a idiot and a crash-out, and he got what was coming to him. Big Balla's been after me ever since, and now you sold me out for a few bucks? For what, Drew?"
Drew flinched at Jacob's harsh words. "It wasn't just the money. It's... it's because you never shared anything with me. You always had your plans and your money, but never included me. I'm broke, Jake. I needed the cash."
Jacob's rage boiled over. "So you thought betraying me was the way to go? You know, for all the times we had, you've become pathetic. You've let your addiction turn you into a traitor."
Drew opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say more, the two men emerged from the shadows. One was Loco, the enforcer from STK. The other was a larger man Jacob recognized as Big Balla's right-hand man Deon who he had quite a few run ins with. They were here for revenge.
Jacob's hand went for his gun, but before he could draw it, Drew's expression changed completely. He stepped back, putting distance between himself and Jacob. "Sorry, Jake," he mumbled, his voice trembling. "You gave me no choice. I thought—"
Before Drew could finish, the two men raised their guns. Jacob dove behind a dumpster just as shots rang out, bullets ricocheting off the brick walls around him. His heart was pounding in his chest, and adrenaline surged through his veins. He returned fire, trying to keep his movements quick and erratic.
"Drew, why?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the alley. He could hear Drew's panicked breathing but no response. He had no time to think about Drew's betrayal now; he had to survive.
Jacob fired again, hitting one of the men in the shoulder. The man stumbled back with a grunt, but the other kept advancing. Jacob could see the cold determination in his eyes, and he knew he was in deep trouble. He needed to get out of here—fast.
"Come on, Jake!" Drew shouted from the side, his voice filled with panic. "Just give up man! You can walk away!"
Jacob scoffed, disbelief and anger boiling in his chest. "You think they're gonna let me walk away now? After this?"
He fired two more shots, then heard the click of an empty chamber. His heart sank. No more bullets.
The men moved in closer, sensing his disadvantage. Jacob felt a surge of desperation. His mind raced, searching for a way out, any way to turn this around. The alley was a dead end; he had nowhere to run.
Just as one of the men raised his gun to fire, a loud siren blared in the distance, getting closer fast. The two men hesitated, looking at each other. They couldn't afford to be caught here, not with cops closing in. The leader cursed under his breath, then turned to Drew. "This ain't over," he spat before retreating into the shadows with his partner.
Jacob crouched behind the dumpster, struggling to control his ragged breaths. His chest ached with every inhale, and his heart pounded like a drum in his ears. His mind was reeling. Drew—his friend, his brother—stood only a few feet away, trembling, eyes wide with guilt and fear. The wail of sirens was growing louder, lights flashing against the grimy walls of the alley, but Jacob barely registered them. He couldn't take his eyes off Drew.
They locked eyes for a moment, and Jacob saw it—Drew's cowardice, the betrayal. Drew took a shaky step back, then without a word, he turned and ran. Jacob watched him go, disbelief and rage building inside him like a fire. How could he run? How could he leave him like this?
Jacob clenched his fists, feeling a sick sense of relief. He wasn't dead. He was alive. But as he took a deep breath, that relief shattered. Warmth trickled down the back of his neck. His fingers, shaking, reached back, and when they came away slick with blood, his heart sank.
His vision blurred. Time seemed to slow as a dark, sinking dread filled him. Not like this. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the cold, filthy pavement, face-first. The pain didn't hit immediately—it was the numbness, the cold fear, that came first. But then it hit. The pounding in his head, the dizziness, the feeling of everything slipping away.
But the pain wasn't just physical. It tore through him, deeper than any wound ever could. Ava. His little girl, barely four. Her giggles, the way she lit up every room, the way she'd reach up and tug at his pants, her smile too big for her tiny face. Jacob could barely breathe through the flood of emotions—he'd never hold her again, never see her grow up. Never get the chance to be the father she needed. His chest tightened as his heart broke in pieces. His baby girl would grow up without him.
And then there was Lora. Her face flashed before his eyes—her eyes, full of love and hope. She had stuck by him when no one else had. She had believed in him when the world saw him as a failure. How could he leave her behind? She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to lose him like this. He had promised her he'd be better, that he'd get out of this life, that they would start over. What was going to happen to her now? To Ava? He had fought so hard to turn things around, to escape this world of violence and death, for them—for his family.
A wave of hatred surged through him—hatred for Drew, for leaving him to die like a dog in this alley. Hatred for the life that had dragged him down and spit him out, just as he was trying to claw his way free. But most of all, hatred for the universe itself, for daring to give him a second chance only to snatch it away in the cruelest way possible.
His vision faded, the darkness closing in. The sirens sounded distant now, like they were coming from another world. Every breath was harder to take. He was going to die here, alone, without a chance to say goodbye to Ava or Lora. His mind screamed in rage. This couldn't be it.
And then he thought of Mr. and Mrs. Will. Mr. Will, who had given him that ring, the one he always wore, now glimmering faintly on his finger. The old man who had shown him more kindness than his own father ever had. And Mrs. Will, who made him feel like he was worth something, who never looked at him like a failure. They believed in him. He had given him that ring, his last gift to him after he left this world, and now... now they were never going to know what had happened. They would never see him again.
The world blurred further, his head pounding, blood still dripping from the back of his skull. Was this how it ended? Was this the fate he had been running from his whole life? A nobody, a dead body in a back alley?
As he lay there, bleeding out, something strange happened. The ring on his finger, the one Mr. Will had given him, began to pulse—faint at first, but then stronger. Jacob felt it before he saw it, a strange warmth, like it was alive. His blood, seeping toward the ring, seemed to fuel something in it. A dark energy stirred, and for a moment, Jacob thought he was hallucinating. But no. He felt it. The ring was doing something.
His anger, his hatred, his overwhelming grief—all of it seemed to fuel the energy inside the ring. It wasn't just draining his life force. It was reacting to him. The more his rage burned, the brighter the ring pulsed, as though it was feeding on his emotions, his pain, his unwillingness to die. Jacob's mind, despite the pain, latched onto the ring. His will to survive, his desperation to live for Ava, for Lora, to not leave them behind—it was all he had left.
The ring responded, thrumming with power. And then, in a flash, reality itself seemed to bend around him. The ground shook, the world blurred, and suddenly Jacob was no longer there. The alley, the sirens, the cold pavement—it all disappeared.
In its place was darkness. Cold, suffocating darkness. He was falling, or floating—he couldn't tell which. All he knew was that he wasn't dead. Not yet. But he wasn't in his world anymore.
Jacob gasped as his eyes snapped open. He was alive. Barely. But he wasn't in that alley anymore. The air was strange, heavy with unfamiliar energy. He could feel it crackling around him. He looked down at the ring on his finger, now still, but he knew—it had saved him. It had pulled him into... somewhere else.