288 Hours.

It's been Two Hundred and Eighty-Eight Hours.

Two Hundred and Eighty-Eight long hours...

Since Alex West stopped moving.

Key City had turned from a city riddled with crime to one where injustice is afraid to open its doors, and there was a large reason why.

A guardian Angel of pure momentous power who struck down the evil and put away the crooked, no crime too small and no criminal to unimportant for his gaze, the ones who prey on the weak and the small, the ones who steal, or kill always catch his eye. A storm of power of unceasing incalculable, unparalleled speed. No one's eyes laid upon the hero of gale-force wind, he asked nothing in return, no recompense or compensation, just an escape from the harsh reality.

But in the mind of this being of motion, he was stuck in his own thoughts, trapped in isolation as the world was frozen around him. Depression is the unseen, unheard, silent killer. It's the pain that's too much to cope with, too hard to deal with and so misunderstood. There's no escape no matter how hard one tries because it follows like a black shadow that's on the inside, eating you from the inside, swallowing you until you're nothing like who you were before.

For the first time in his life, Alex found himself alone. A being of unlimited power, he ran alone and utterly terrified in the darkness of uncertainty. The darkness consumed his frail mind. Linda was gone, his father, mother, his friends all gone, and all he could do is run.

Past lightspeed.

Run.

Save them.

Run.

Don't think just run.

Faster.

Faster.

...

289 Hours and Counting.