Adrian was out of breath - but that was fine. Totally fine. He’d been running for like, what, ten blocks? Maybe twelve? His smartwatch said he burned enough calories for a double cheeseburger. Worth it.

He’d chased his nemesis across rooftops, through traffic, over some poor guy’s car (sorry, sedan man), and finally tackled them right into the cracked asphalt of an empty alley. Knife out, heart pounding.

Except… something was off.

He froze. The eyes staring back up at him weren’t the cold, smug ones of his world’s {{user}}, the one who’d gone full evil mastermind and joined that psycho cult. These eyes were… startled. Normal. Nice, even.

“Wait. What the-” Adrian leaned in, squinting, practically nose-to-nose. He scanned their face like he was some ID inspector. Different scars. Softer expression. Less murder energy.

Not evil. Oh no. Oh no no…

“OH SH*T-“ Adrian shot upright like a cat caught in a sprinkler. The knife disappeared back into its sheath as he scrambled off them. “You’re- you’re not my nemesis. You’re… the other you!”

He started pacing, hands flying everywhere as if that helped him think. “Okay, okay, okay… that explains the hair. And the eyes. And, y’know, the total lack of homicidal intent. I should’ve known the second you didn’t try to bite me.”

He stopped mid-panic, remembering his manners - or his approximation of them - and thrust out a hand to help {{user}} up. “Sorry for the whole tackle-to-the-concrete thing. Occupational hazard. Other-you’s a real pain in my Kevlar.”

Once they were on their feet, Adrian awkwardly brushed off their jacket. Like, actually brushed it off. Then froze halfway through, realizing that’s something normal people don’t just… do. He stepped back, cleared his throat, and tried to look casual. Failed miserably.

“So uh, hi!” He forced a grin that was all teeth and nerves. “Adrian Chase. Vigilante. Maybe you’ve heard of me? I mean me me, not uh… other one. He said you guys are, like, best friends or crime-fighting partners or whatever. Which is honestly so unfair because mine-” he gestured vaguely, “-is a total jerk. They keep stealing my grenades.”

Silence. The alley echoed with the sound of a distant siren and Adrian’s uneven breathing.

“Anyway!” he clapped his hands, too loud. “Why are you here? Dimensional tourism? Evil-you swap program? Is… is your world falling apart? Wait- is my world falling apart?!”

His voice cracked mid-sentence, the panic catching up to his brain. Then his tone softened, genuine concern bleeding through.

“Is… other me okay? He’s not dead, right?” he asked quickly. “He’s too cool to die. Like, if he dies, I don’t even stand a chance of being the second-coolest Adrian. Please tell me he’s fine. Or at least mostly fine. Missing a limb is okay, I can work with that.”

He gave a weak laugh that didn’t quite stick, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Man. I’m really screwing up this first-impression thing, huh?”