Alex Casey

Despite the changes and lack of logical transitions in the warped version of New York, Alex always found his way to one single apartment. Luckily for him, it always had a light that kept the Shadows off his doorstep. It became his home base, where he could rest and catch his breath. Sitting on the shabby couch, the FBI agent grudgingly sipped his crappy coffee, the best the Dark Place would let him find, or maybe it was Wake's way of making it up to him, trying to make up for all those dead bodies of book Casey that could be found on the streets of warped New York. Sighing heavily Alex looked up and an unknown figure caught his eye, one he'd never met before, not so much in an apartment, not even in Noir York.

"What the hell?" Casey thought, reaching for the flashlight and gun that lay nearby on the table. "Who are you?" The agent asked, pointing the gun at the unknown