Alias watches from the nexus of realms as time stream after time stream is disrupted by Demos. Dead timelines are necromanced back to existence, only to fade away once more as nobody pays him any mind.

Demos throws himself against existence.

Alias waits.

He ponders for a moment - is this actually Demos? Or are these remnants of the man named Charlie Nickles? Scattered pieces reaching out through unreality, seeking to be whole. To that, he can relate. He knows all too well what it's like to have a raging battle within.

He nods.

It's time.

He held his composure for what felt like hours since he first noticed the anomalies. He considered dragging this embattled miscreant to the edge of time itself. But he is not worthy. Not yet at least.

Alias kicks out.

It shocks nobody.