The Creator.exe "Alan Becker"

I only talk to flowers because they don't understand me

Alan sighed as he carefully turned the page in his book, his other hand still bandaged from the burn he had accidentally caused. Fortunately, his other injured hand had healed remarkably well, leaving no trace of the incident, not even a scar.

It had been at least two weeks since they last heard from Victim. Victim had reached an agreement with Chosen and Dark, promising not to bother them anymore. As a gesture of goodwill, Victim even returned Dark's wristbands, which served as proof of his sincerity.

However, Dark hadn't fully forgiven Victim for the damage he had caused to him, Chosen, and the others. While Chosen remained neutral in the situation, acknowledging that the mercenaries had pursued Victim and inflicted injuries, he didn't harbor any deep grudges.

Alan couldn't help but recall the terrible things he and Dark had done in the past. In comparison, Victim's actions seemed less severe, though the mention of Chosen having done worse and nobody being alive to tell the tale sent a chill down Alan's spine.

On the other hand, Second struggled to discuss Victim, still haunted by the memory of his own injuries and what Victim had done to everyone.

This made him hesitant to maintain a friendly relationship with Victim. He had attempted to reconcile before, but it resulted in Second trying to punch Victim, leading to him being carried out by Ballista.

The Gang and Purple were generally an open-minded bunch, although they had resorted to blackmailing Victim into fulfilling their desires. They had coerced Victim into buying them things and fixing Purple's house, even going as far as helping Purple find a new job after he lost his previous one at a restaurant.

As for Alan, he was doing surprisingly well. Despite his slower healing process compared to Dark and Second, he was in good spirits. He spent his time reading books, tending to his garden, and offering a helping hand to anyone in need.

Victim and Alan hadn't exchanged a word since that incident. It seemed that both of them needed time to process what had happened, which was completely understandable.

Alan couldn't shake off the memory of being forced to act like a dog by Victim. The image of himself picking up a stick with his mouth haunted him, causing a mix of embarrassment and frustration. While the hurt from that day lingered, the embarrassment seemed to overshadow it, making it difficult for Alan to approach Victim and initiate a conversation.

Alan let out a sigh of relief, grateful that, for the time being, nobody was actively targeting him. Things seemed to be going well, or at least relatively so. Closing his book, he walked over to the window and peeked outside, observing Second and Dark practicing.

A small chuckle escaped Alan's lips as he witnessed Second's attempts to fly alongside Dark, only to end up falling face-first to the ground. He placed the book on his desk, deciding to continue reading it later if he found himself with more time on his hands—well, hand, since his other hand still hurt.

Leaving his room, Alan descended the stairs and made his way towards Second and Dark. He and Dark hadn't really discussed the night when Alan revealed that he had created Victim to them, but Alan supposed that was alright for now.

"Everything seems to be going alright," Alan thought to himself, watching with amusement as Dark and Second played tag in mid-air. "You've got to be more agile, kid! Use your arms and your waist," Dark coached, effortlessly evading Second's attempts to tag him.

Dark still relied on the wristbands as he hadn't fully recovered from his intense fight with Second several months ago. "I'm struggling!" Second exclaimed, flailing his arms and legs in an attempt to move from one spot to another.