[h1][b][i][color=39b54a][center]Felix Hausten[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center]Location: Justice Memorial Hospital [/center]

If he was able to be more aware of what was happening with his body in the world of the awake, Felix would be objecting and in a state of argument at what was going on with his hair. Although, in his current state he wouldn't have even argued if he was aware. At this point, it felt like he no longer had control of the dice, he couldn't even roll. Hell, he had no choices, things happened to him, for a reason? Who knew, he wasn't so condescending and pretentious to perceive such accidents and mishaps as some sign of god that he was meant for something else.

To him what this all stood for was that he wasn't dead yet, which meant there was something he had to do, then his death would be barrelling around the corner, a theme many in this god forsaken city seemed to have awaiting them. In this dream like forced unconscious state, Felix could feel regret yet gratitude. He regretted leaving Berlin, the chaos and misery he'd caused here were all because he had left his comfortable home of Berlin. Because he wanted this. He wanted the risk and adventure of solving another case, he wanted more material for his novels.

That's why he was grateful. he was grateful for this hands on experience, of being forced to be fully submerged into the scum and depths of this hive of mystery and underhanded dealings. The city's personal initiation ritual, to show him what he was getting into. yet something at the back of his mind knew, that the city had already changed him. Not just the survival rate of his eye, but more his drive. His drive to solve this mystery was becoming more and more strong. He had to get deeper. He had to. he couldn't give up now that he himself was a target.It would just make the novel more immersive and a rollercoaster for all readers. Hell, it would zoom off shelves. he could raise money for this affected by this huge calamity parade. He wasn't done fighting yet.