The transport capsule hummed to a stop, its doors sliding open with a soft hiss. Cyrus stepped out, his eyes widening as he took in the sight before him. A magnificent building sprawled across his field of vision, its golden ornaments shimmering in the moonlight. Despite the late hour, the structure pulsed with life, exuding a mystical aura that seemed to push back against the darkness of the night.
As Cyrus stood there, momentarily awestruck by the spectacle, a charming voice broke through his reverie. "Is there anything I can help with?" He turned to see a lady, elegantly dressed in a uniform that spoke of luxury and refinement. She gestured towards his pullover, offering to take it.
Cyrus nodded timidly, still somewhat overwhelmed by his surroundings. As he handed over his jacket, he took a deep breath and stepped into the main hall. The moment he crossed the threshold, it was as if he had entered another world entirely. The air seemed different here, charged with an energy he couldn't quite define. Soothing music flowed through the space, instantly improving his mood and easing some of the tension from his shoulders.
All around him, the sounds of the casino filled the air – the clinking of chips, the whir of slot machines, the soft thud of cards being dealt. It was a symphony of chance and fortune, and Cyrus found himself being drawn deeper into its melody.
The charming lady who had greeted him appeared at his side once more. "Is there something particular you'd like to start with?" she inquired, her voice smooth and inviting.
Cyrus, remembering his purpose, didn't hesitate. "Where's the best place to double up my gains?" he asked directly, his earlier timidity giving way to determination.
A knowing smile played across the lady's lips. "I see," she said, her tone suggesting she had heard such requests many times before. "This way, sir." With a graceful gesture, she invited Cyrus to follow her. As they walked, Cyrus couldn't help but notice the way she moved – every step gentle and enticing. Her presence alone was pleasing to the eye, and her voice carried an almost magical quality, each word drawing him deeper into the world of the casino.
Before long, Cyrus found himself standing before what appeared to be the casino's main attraction. On a raised platform stood a man whose aura was completely different from anyone else in the room. Around the platform, a crowd had gathered – men and women from all walks of life, their eyes fixed on the figure above them with a mix of hope and trepidation.
"You have great chances of even tripling your gains here," the lady declared confidently, her words sending a thrill of excitement through Cyrus.
Without hesitation, he replied, "Alright, count me in."
The man on the platform raised his hands, commanding the attention of everyone present. "Welcome to you all – gentlemen, enchanting souls, and esteemed guests," he began, bowing slightly in a show of respect. "Today marks the beginning of another thrilling expedition into the realm of tracking magic. As we gather here, let's harness our knowledge and skills to uncover the hidden mysteries that await us. Without further ado, let's begin!"
Cyrus felt himself tense, recalling the rules that the lady had explained to him earlier. Now, it was up to him to make his way in this high-stakes game.
As Cyrus watched, the man's demeanor shifted. He began to draw in the void before him, his finger leaving trails of dazzling light in its wake. A mesmerizing pattern flashed into existence, dancing with an elegance that was almost hypnotic. The light traced complex designs, disappearing and reappearing in a rhythm that seemed just beyond comprehension. It flashed in circles, spun upward, and finally exploded in a breathtaking display of magical fireworks.
Cyrus closed his eyes, desperately trying to commit the pattern to memory. When he opened them again, he found a pen in his hand, provided by one of the casino staff. Like everyone else around him, he began to draw, attempting to reproduce the pattern he had just witnessed.
Time seemed to stretch as Cyrus focused all his concentration on recreating the magical display. His hand moved almost of its own accord, guided by his exceptional memory and keen eye for detail. When he finally set down his pen, he looked up to find all eyes on him.
The man on the platform spoke again, his voice carrying easily over the hushed crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me direct your attention to our esteemed Candidate 10, the undisputed victor of this evening's spectacle. With all twenty participants engaged in the mesmerizing display, the rewards are nothing short of extraordinary – twenty times your initial bet! Now, if that isn't a stroke of enchantment, I don't know what is. Congratulations to our esteemed winner and all who dared to embark on this magical journey!"
As applause broke out, Cyrus felt a mixture of elation and embarrassment. He was by far the youngest person in the crowd, and the attention made him somewhat uncomfortable. But as he saw his winnings being tallied, that discomfort was quickly replaced by a surge of excitement.
With each subsequent round, Cyrus's success only grew. His eagle eyes and amazing memory allowed him to reproduce even the most complex patterns with startling accuracy. His gains shot through the roof, at times reaching as much as a hundred times his initial bet.
How stupid was I not to come here way earlier, Cyrus thought to himself, marveling at his newfound fortune.
But as his winning streak continued – five times, then ten – Cyrus began to notice a change in the atmosphere. The other patrons were eyeing him with suspicion, and even the man running the game seemed to be frowning. No matter how fast or complicated the pattern became, Cyrus managed to reproduce it perfectly.
After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, the man on the platform snapped his fingers, drawing everyone's attention once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready?" he called out, his voice carrying a note of challenge. "Are you ready for the ultimate test? Bet against the house!"
A series of gasps rippled through the crowd. The shocked expressions on the faces around him told Cyrus all he needed to know – this was no ordinary wager.
Cyrus felt his body tremble, a surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins. This was it – the moment of truth. If he won against the house, then... But even as the thought formed, a voice of caution spoke up in the back of his mind.
They aren't fools. They'll probably stack everything in their favor.
Shaking his head to clear it, Cyrus made a decision. "I think I'm logging off for today," he announced
Cyrus's announcement was met with a mixture of disbelief and relief from those around him. He had earned so much that he simply couldn't count it all, and there was no reason to push his luck any further.
Under the astonished gazes of the other patrons, Cyrus made his way to the cashier to collect his winnings. The weight of the karmic ore in his pockets was both thrilling and terrifying. He knew he couldn't stay in the casino any longer – he had to leave, and leave fast.
With purposeful strides, Cyrus headed towards the transport portal, his eyes darting suspiciously left and right. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a primal instinct warning him of danger. Just as he was about to step into the portal, he felt a familiar aura crash over him, paralyzing his muscles.
Cyrus turned back hastily, his heart pounding in his chest. A group of individuals was approaching, their intentions clearly hostile. Before he could react, a metallic bar came swinging towards his face.
The impact was devastating. Cyrus's head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his mouth. He hit the ground hard, his hands instinctively moving to cradle his dislocated jaw. A scream of pain tore from his throat, raw and primal.
Without warning, an avalanche of hits crashed down upon him. The powerful aura still bound him to the ground, robbing him of any ability to defend himself. Fists and feet rained down, each impact sending shockwaves of agony through his body.
Through the haze of pain, Cyrus could hear voices, distant and distorted.
"You bunch of cheaters, going against the rules like that will tarnish the reputation of this place!" someone shouted, though whether in genuine outrage or to maintain a facade, Cyrus couldn't tell.
Another voice, dripping with sarcasm, replied, "They only hold within."
Cyrus tried to speak, to plead for mercy, but all that came out was a gurgle of blood. "I should have never done that," he managed to choke out between blows, spitting out another mouthful of blood.
His body curled into a tight ball, a futile attempt to protect himself from the onslaught. The sounds of bones cracking echoed in his ears, a sickening symphony of violence. His vision blurred, the world around him fading in and out of focus as consciousness threatened to slip away.
Just when Cyrus thought he could take no more, when the pain had become so all-encompassing that he was ready to welcome the darkness, he vaguely registered a change in the atmosphere. Through swollen eyes, he could just make out the blurry forms of his aggressors fleeing, driven away by a familiar figure.
Time seemed to lose all meaning as Cyrus drifted in and out of awareness. When he finally came back to himself, he found that he was back in his apartment, sprawled on the sofa. Every inch of his body ached, a testament to the brutal beating he had endured.
"What did you even have in mind?" Lork's voice cut through the fog of pain. Cyrus's friend stood nearby, a glass of cold water in his hand.
As Lork pressed the glass to his lips, Cyrus trembled, the cold liquid sending fresh waves of pain through his battered body as it came into contact with his wounds.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Cyrus managed to glare at his friend, though the effect was somewhat diminished by his swollen face.
Lork's expression was unreadable as he replied, "That would have been smarter. You know I can't stick around." His gaze unfocused, looking at something beyond the confines of the small apartment. "Get your act together and sort things out."
With a gentle tap on Cyrus's shoulder, Lork moved towards the door. As a non-human, he couldn't risk being caught roaming the streets of Arkania freely.
At the threshold, Lork paused, glancing back at his battered friend. "I saved your life. Can I have a look at Project T?"
Despite his pain, Cyrus felt a flash of irritation. "It's the seventh time already, Lork. You know I can't. It contains a lot of technology from the company, other monitoring systems... And why do you even need that? You've always evaded the bureau without much hassle."
Cyrus pressed the cold glass against his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing pain. He was confused by Lork's persistent curiosity about his company. True, it was the best in City Zero, but Lork had never needed its systems to avoid the bureau before. His head ached too much to ponder the question for long.
As silence fell between them, Cyrus let out a bitter laugh. "Now I'm completely broke. What's next? A karmic monster knocking at my door?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a sharp pain coursed through his forehead. Cyrus screamed, falling to the floor and gripping his head in a futile attempt to calm the agony. This pain was different – deeper, more intense than anything he had experienced before. It felt as if his very soul was being touched, torn apart and remade.
Through gritted teeth, Cyrus managed to force out a thought: The last time this feeling came, something terrible happened.