The horn was the last thing he heard.
It wasn't even a dramatic sound, just a short, ugly blare cutting through rain and traffic. Then came the flash of headlights, a weightless instant of realization, "oh, this is how it ends", and blackness.
No pain.
No time to process.
Just nothing.
When Jiss opened his eyes, the first thing that hit him was smell.
Rot. Stale grease. Trash water soaking into cardboard. His nose crinkled before his brain caught up. Then came sound, a dozen noises layered over each other: a subway rumble beneath him, a far-off siren, someone shouting about pizza, the deep hum of a city that never slept.
Wait. What city?
He sat up so fast his vision blurred. Cold blacktop scraped his palms, and wet paper clung to his sleeve. A brick wall rose beside him, tagged with graffiti he didn't recognize. The alley stretched in both directions, cluttered with trash bags and broken pallets. The air was so humid and hard to breathe.
"This… isn't home," he muttered, voice hoarse. "This isn't, where the hell am I?"
No answer. Just the sound of a cat yowling somewhere up above, like it was laughing at him.
Jiss staggered to his feet, legs shaky. He took stock the way he'd seen in disaster movies: body check first.
Arms? Still attached.
Legs? Sore but moving.
Head? Pounding, but no obvious cracks.
He patted his chest and pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys. Except… when he unlocked the phone, the screen refused to load, flashing a error before cutting to black.
"Perfect," he groaned. "Of course. Dumped in alley, phone's dead. Can't call for help. Can't even Google where the hell am I?"
He shoved it back into his pocket and started walking. One slow step, then another. The alley led toward a brighter street, and he followed, boots splashing through dirty puddles. The closer he got, the louder everything became: footsteps, conversations, noisy cars. It was overwhelming.
And then he saw the street.
Yellow cabs drove past, their shapes both familiar and weirdly off, like someone had copied New York from memory but missed a few details. Big billboards hung over the street, advertising brands he didn't know alongside ones he did. A Stark Industries logo blinked above an electronics store.
Jiss froze.
"…Stark Industries? Like… Tony Stark?" He laughed, but it came out thin and shaky. "No. Nope. That's not real. That's movies. That's cosplay convention decor, not…"
A massive TV screen on the side of a building cut him off. News footage rolled across it, showing a man in a red-and-gold suit flying through the sky, repulsors blazing. The news ticker at the bottom read: IRON MAN HALTS ARMS DEAL IN MEXICO CITY.
Jiss's mouth went dry.His knees felt like they'd forgotten how to hold him up.
This can't be real. This cannot be real."Either I'm dead," he whispered, "or somebody spiked my coffee."
He ducked back into the alley, hyperventilating. His heart pounded so hard it hurt."Okay, okay, think. You died, right? Truck, horn, lights splat. So either this is… heaven? No, too smelly. Hell? Maybe. Or" He swallowed, staring at the Stark logo like it might lunge off the screen. "Or I somehow woke up in the fucking M C U. Nope I won't believe such bullshit."
He rubbed his face with both hands and groaned."This is bad. This is so bad.".
His breathing slowed, just enough for another sensation to creep in, a prickling at the back of his neck. Like someone was watching him. No, not watching. Staring through him.
Jiss spun around.The alley was empty. Just trash cans, puddles, shadows.
And a voice.
Host?
Jiss went rigid. "Wh....who's there?"
No answer. Just silence, broken by the steady drip-drip-drip of rainwater from a fire escape.
"…Okay," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. "I'm losing it. That's all. Stress hallucination. Totally normal for people who just" His throat caught on the word died. "who just had a bad day."
The voice came again, louder this time, and from inside his skull.
Host? Hungry.
Jiss slammed his hands over his ears. "Nope! Nope, nope, nope. Not doing this. Not hearing voices today."
But the voice didn't care what he wanted.
Scared. You are scared. Hungry. We fix.
"What the hell does that even....." His own voice cracked. "Oh no. Oh no. I know this trope. I've seen this movie." He backed up until his shoulders hit brick. "You're a parasite, aren't you? Some alien thing that latches on and....oh god, you're going to lay eggs in my chest, aren't you?"
The voice chuckled. Eggs are boring. We like… good host.
Jiss froze. The word host echoed in his head.
"…I'm officially terrified now," he muttered.
......
The prickling in his skull surged, sharp and electric. His hands trembled as a dark red, slick tendril pushed out from the back of his hand. It writhed, almost curious, before sinking back under his skin.
Jiss stared at the spot where it had been. "Oh. Oh no. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, NOPE."
He bolted. Panic propelled him down the alley and back toward the street, weaving between trash cans and puddles. His thoughts spiraled faster than his feet could carry him.
There's an alien voice in my head. I'm gonna end up dead. Nope, I'm already dead..........
He reached the street corner and skidded to a halt. People bustled past, none of them paying him any mind. Their faces were sharp, real, normal, but the giant holographic ad above them showed the Iron Man suit again, flying high.
Jiss bent double, clutching his knees, trying not to throw up."Okay," he gasped. "Rule number one: don't attract attention. Rule number two: don't die again. Rule number three: Don't listen to the hungry alien's voice. good, good, good....."
The voice purred in his mind, low and amused.
Jiss glared at the empty air. "Great. A patient alien parasite. Lucky me."
He forced himself to straighten up and blend in with the crowd. Step one: look like he belonged. Step two: figure out where he was sleeping tonight. Step three: somehow not freak out every time someone said Ironman.
His pulse finally started to settle as he shuffled along the sidewalk, lost among strangers. Maybe, if he kept his head down, he could survive this.
But as he glanced up at the skyline, a distant silhouette moved between buildings: something massive, graceful, and mechanical.
Jiss's breath caught."Rule number four," he muttered under his breath."Whatever you do… don't look up."
And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, a single terrified soul carrying a very hungry secret.