The cool evening air hit Adonis—Kosuke—as he stepped out of the Council's building, a massive, steam-powered fortress in the heart of the city. Gears and pistons whirred in the distance, sending soft vibrations through the cobblestone streets. Tall, iron-clad buildings loomed around him, their windows glowing with the soft hum of gaslight, while overhead, airships drifted lazily through the sky. The city was alive with machinery, but Adonis felt disconnected from it all, his mind still spinning from the meeting.
He walked aimlessly, hands in his pockets, trying to process everything. Every step he took felt unreal, like he was trapped in someone else's dream. In a way, he was. The memories of Adonis—the original—were now fragments swirling in his head, mixing with his own. They felt like pieces of a puzzle he wasn't sure he wanted to solve.
His boots echoed against the pavement, and as he wandered deeper into the heart of the city, Adonis began sifting through the memories more deliberately. The original Adonis had chosen the Path of Chains, and while Kosuke had gathered a few details during the Council meeting, there was more—so much more—that he needed to understand.
The Path of Chains, he recalled, was centered on forging pacts with otherworldly entities. The stronger the contract, the more power one could harness, but each deal came with a heavy price. Adonis had bound himself to something dark, something that lurked in the shadows of his mind, waiting. Kosuke could feel the weight of it, like an invisible chain wrapped tightly around his chest.
Control, he thought. The Path of Chains is about control. Control over the entities, control over yourself, and control over others.
It wasn't just about physical strength or magic. The Chains Path allowed for influence in subtle ways, manipulating people, events, and even fate itself through the contracts one made. The deeper you delved into the Path, the more you became a master of manipulation—but also a prisoner of the very beings you sought to control.
Adonis frowned as fragments of the original's knowledge came into focus. At Rank 1, he had forged only one major contract, but that was enough to give him access to a range of abilities: heightened awareness, the ability to manipulate small shadows, and the power to create invisible bindings, capable of holding or restricting people for brief periods. The next level, Rank 2, would allow him to summon a contracted being directly into this world, but he wasn't there yet.
And as much as Kosuke wanted nothing to do with this dark power, he knew he would have no choice but to embrace it if he wanted to survive.
Lost in thought, Adonis barely noticed the cafe he had walked into. It was a small, cozy place tucked into a quieter corner of the street. Brass fittings lined the wooden walls, and soft lamplight illuminated the interior, casting warm shadows across the space. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air, a brief reprieve from the metallic sting of the outside world.
He found a table near the window and sat down, still processing the memories. A waitress appeared, offering a smile as she placed a menu in front of him.
"Anything to drink while you decide?" she asked, her voice polite but practiced.
Adonis blinked and glanced at the menu, trying to focus. The original Adonis' memories surfaced again, and he managed to nod. "Coffee. Black."
The waitress gave a quick nod and disappeared behind the counter. Adonis took the moment to breathe, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over him. His body was tired, and his mind was an even bigger mess. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up—pretending to be someone he wasn't in a world he barely understood.
As he stared blankly out the window, the soft murmur of the cafe fading into the background, a different set of memories rose to the surface—the financial system of this world. It was surprisingly modern compared to the industrial, steam-driven atmosphere of the city.
The world ran on credits, a standardized form of currency controlled by the Central Bank of the Empire. The credits were stored in small, cylindrical devices called vaults, which functioned much like digital wallets. People carried these vaults with them, embedded in their personal items—rings, watches, or even mechanical implants. Transactions were done with a quick scan, and the more prestigious vaults had security mechanisms to prevent tampering.
The original Adonis had a vault embedded in a ring he wore on his right hand. Kosuke glanced down at it, marveling at the intricate craftsmanship. The ring was sleek and made of some dark metal, its surface etched with fine lines that seemed to pulse faintly with energy.
So this is how you pay for things here, Kosuke thought, turning the ring over in his hand. The financial system was a mixture of the modern and the arcane, like everything else in this world.
He reached out with his hand, brushing the ring against the edge of the table where a small sensor embedded in the wood blinked to life. A faint chime sounded, and a glowing screen appeared before him, displaying the contents of his vault. He scanned it quickly.
2,145 credits.
Not a huge amount, but not insignificant either. It seemed that Adonis hadn't been struggling financially, though Kosuke could sense the original had often worked behind the scenes, dealing with shady contacts and brokers who owed him favors. There were debts to collect, but there were also debts owed.
The waitress returned with his coffee, setting it down gently before retreating again. He wrapped his hands around the warm cup, trying to steady himself. He needed to focus on the present, to gather more information and adapt to this world as quickly as possible. The Council meeting had been the first test, but there were many more to come.
As he sipped the coffee, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Glancing around, he caught a glimpse of someone—a figure in a heavy coat, standing just outside the cafe, half-hidden in shadow. They seemed to be looking right at him.
A chill ran down his spine. He couldn't tell if it was the effect of his pact or something more immediate, but in this world of gears and chains, danger was never far behind.
Adonis placed the cup down, suddenly on edge. He needed to move, to plan his next steps carefully. There was no telling what—or who—was waiting for him outside the safety of the cafe's warm light.
But one thing was certain: the deeper he delved into the Path of Chains, the less he could trust anyone.
Not even himself.