BROOKLYN, 2025 – JAKE'S APARTMENT
Davis let out a long groan as he tossed the soaked towel into the laundry basket. His socks were wet from stepping in beer, his nerves fried from that "I'm in the game" call from Jake, and his PS5—still glowing blue—was frozen on a paused screen of Arthur Morgan staring out over a mountain.
"Jesus, Jake… You've finally lost it," Davis muttered. "You better not be hiding in the closet again, or I swear to God I'm posting your search history."
He looked down at the glowing console.
Still running. Still humming.
Still paused.
He sighed.
"Alright, game over."
He reached down.
Click.
FZZZAAAAAAAAM.
The apartment exploded.
Not with fire, but with reality tearing in half.
A vortex of screaming digital particles shredded through the air. Light cracked like glass across the room, distorting space itself. The screen imploded in on itself as a blinding pulse of energy surged outward like a mini big bang.
And then—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Five bodies slammed into the room like meteors dropped from space.
MEANWHILE – IN THE GAME WORLD, MOMENTS EARLIER
They were on the trail near Strawberry. The sun glinted through the trees. Jake was in full rugged cowboy form—hat, coat, boots, and his prized revolver bouncing at his side. He was gleefully snapping pictures of the scenery.
"I swear," Arthur grunted, "If he takes one more picture of that damn tree…"
"Lighten up," John chuckled. "He's harmless."
Dutch walked ahead, calm but alert, boots crunching on gravel. Micah lagged behind, picking his teeth with a knife.
Then the sky shattered.
Literally.
Cracks ran through the sky like a mirror dropped on stone. The clouds folded inward. The sun pulsed like a dying star. Colors bled. Sounds warped.
"What in God's name—" Dutch turned just in time to see a wall of white light swallowing the earth behind them.
Arthur instinctively reached for his revolver.
Jake screamed, "OH FUUUUUU—"
The world fractured.
Like it was nothing more than a dream breaking apart.
And then—
Black.
BACK TO 2025 – JAKE'S APARTMENT
CRASH.
Five men slammed into Jake's small apartment with bone-jarring force.
Jake landed face-first into the rug. "MY NOSE! I THINK I ATE CARPET!"
Dutch smashed into the couch, flipping it over. "WHAT THE HOLY HELL?!"
Micah crashed into the TV stand, knocking over controllers and screaming like a banshee. "FUCKING DAMNIT!"
Arthur stumbled up with his revolver drawn. "What the hell just happened?!"
John rolled under the table and groaned, "I think my soul just left my body and came back screaming."
Davis stood frozen in the kitchen, a half-cleaned beer can still in hand.
"…"
Jake pushed himself up, coughing. His hat rolled to the side. He slowly looked around—modern furniture, the PS5, LED lights, Brooklyn air heavy with the smell of city pollution and takeout grease.
He grinned.
"I think we made it."
Arthur blinked. "Made it where?!"
Jake turned to him and spread his arms wide. "Welcome to my apartment. Also known as… the fucking future."
Dutch rose slowly, scanning the room. "What... what is this place?"
John was now poking the PlayStation controller like it might bite.
Micah pulled open the fridge. "Holy shit! Bottled beer. Cold. What the hell kinda place is this?!"
Arthur turned and looked out the window—cars below, people yelling, sirens in the distance.
"Is this Saint Denis?!"
Jake brushed off his coat, grabbed his hat, and placed it back on with a grin. "Nah, boys… this is Brooklyn. And that…" he pointed at Davis, still standing like a statue, "…is my very confused roommate."
Davis opened his mouth, then closed it again.
And screamed.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
THUMP THUMP THUMP.
From across the wall: "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU GODDAMN HORSE-FUCKING LOONIES!"
Karen. Of course.
Jake turned to Arthur and said solemnly, "Do not open fire. She's protected by dark forces known as rent control."
Dutch stood up, brushing dust from his vest. "So… this is your world, Jake?"
"Yep."
Micah, holding a bottle of hot sauce like it was gold, chimed in, "Your world's weird. And spicy."
John finally stood, still shaken. "Are we stuck here?"
Jake paused.
"Dunno."
Arthur looked at Jake, then at the futuristic glowing screen. "So... what now?"
Jake chuckled, gripping the revolver at his side, glancing toward the fridge.
"Well... I've got something, actually its his" pointing to jake who just raised his hands in surrender.