It was simple at first glance, plain white, with an ever-shifting mark at its center. A Joker's laughing face that melted into a Spade, then back again, over and over in an endless cycle. The transformation was seamless, fluid, yet unnatural, as though the card itself couldn't decide what it truly was.
Lucian forced himself to sit up, his breathing uneven. His body felt hollow, the lingering ache of what had been taken gnawing at him. His gaze landed on the floating card, its surface shifting between familiar shapes. He swallowed hard, steadying his voice. "So… is this it?"
"False Covenant," Triboulet purred, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "A unique creation, just for you. It alters both the physical appearance of your mark and the aura it emits, allowing you to shift between the Wildcard Suit and the Spade Suit. Any magical detection, intuition, or suit-based tracking will perceive you as a legitimate artisan from the Spade Suit."
Lucian's eyes narrowed at the shifting mark. The Joker's grin flickered into the sharp insignia of a crossed carving tool embedded within a black spade, seamless yet unnatural. His fingers twitched, unease creeping in. "Why Spade?" he muttered. "Why not Diamonds or Hearts?"
Triboulet chuckled, low and knowing. "Because, dear Lucian, your soul yearns for it."
Lucian stiffened.
"You don't even realize it, do you?" Triboulet continued, his voice curling through Lucian's thoughts. "Deep down, beneath the chaos, beneath the madness, you still want what was stolen from you. You still long for the path that should have been yours. The Spade Suit was your destiny before the Hollow Verdict card took it away from you, before chaos took hold. And no matter how much you deny it, your soul still clings to that truth. That's why the card took this form. That's why it works the way it does."
Lucian's jaw clenched. He wanted to argue, to reject the claim outright, but something inside him wavered. The thought of bearing the Spade mark, of being able to walk among them undetected, stirred something deep within him. It wasn't the same as the suffocating pull of chaos and it was something else, something almost familiar. A longing for the path that had been denied to him.
Triboulet let out a soft, mocking sigh. "How poetic. Even when marked by chaos, you still reach for order. You think wearing the face of a Spade will make you one? Oh, Lucian, you can mimic them all you like, but remember that no matter how much you yearn for it, you will never truly belong."
Lucian's fingers curled into a fist, his nails pressing into his palm. His soul might have chosen Spade, but chaos had already claimed him. And there was no turning back.
His gaze shifted to the card floating in his mindspace, pulsing with its unstable energy, waiting for him to decide. He had come this far. Hiding the mark was his only option. Survival demanded it.
Before Lucian could activate the card, Triboulet's voice slithered into his mind, full of cruel delight.
"Ah, but you know what could make this even better, Lucian? High Stakes."
Lucian's breath hitched. His fingers hovered over the card as he processed the words. He knew exactly what High Stakes entailed. It was the gamble that turned a fleeting moment into permanence, a way to push a card beyond its limits and make it eternal.
Every card created through Soul Shuffle was a single use, a temporary manifestation of chaos given form. But High Stakes could change that. It would refine the card, enhance it, make it something greater but with at a price.
His sanity.
His grip on reality.
Chaos would take its toll, feeding on the cracks in his mind, widening them until he could no longer tell where he ended and the madness began. And worst of all, he had no way of knowing how much of himself he would lose this time.
But the mark.
He needed to hide it, to make sure nothing could expose him. Survival was the only priority.
He swallowed, then forced the words out. "What happens if I use it?"
Triboulet chuckled, the sound coiling around Lucian's thoughts like a vice. "Oh, I don't know. That's the beauty of chaos. Sometimes, it simply enhances what's already there. Other times? Well… you might find yourself unraveling at the edges."
Lucian's jaw tightened. The risk clawed at him, but the thought of being exposed, of being hunted down and paraded as a Wildcard again, was far worse. He exhaled sharply.
"I'm doing it."
The moment he activated High Stakes, the air around him shifted. His mindspace quaked violently, the very fabric of his thoughts trembling under the weight of the unleashed chaos. A crack split through the darkness, a thin, jagged tear forming in the space that bound his consciousness together. From it, a surge of wild, uncontrollable energy poured through, a raw torrent of chaos latching onto him.
The whispers multiplied.
Lucian's head snapped back as pain seared through his skull. Voices clawed at his mind, more frenzied, more demanding than ever before. His body trembled as he fell to his knees, clutching his head. The agony was relentless, an invasion of something far beyond him, beyond comprehension.
The chaos was devouring him.
But the Soul Carver absorbed it.
The blade pulsed violently, drinking in the wild energy like a starved beast, channeling it into the carving process. The card, still floating in Lucian's mindspace, shined brightly as the Carver's edge cut into its surface with precise, deliberate strokes. But the true force behind the transformation was not the blade, it was the chaos itself.
Raw, unrestrained energy poured through the cracks in his mindspace, fueling the carving, reshaping the card beyond its original limits. The lines that had once been clear warped and unraveled, only to reform into something greater, something more intricate. Chaos did not simply refine, it twisted, rewrote, reforged.
The card pulsed erratically as the process neared completion, its surface no longer stable, no longer bound by the same constraints. It was changing, breaking free from the limitations that once defined it, becoming something more than a single-use creation. Something permanent. Something eternal.
Minutes passed, or maybe seconds. Time had lost meaning.
Then, finally, the pain dulled. The whispers receded, though not entirely. Lucian gasped for breath as his vision steadied.
The card before him was no longer the same.
It remained plain white, but its surface had changed. It no longer held the clean simplicity it once did. Now, its texture seemed to shift unnaturally, as if something inside was struggling to take form. At its center, the emblem flickered erratically, unable to settle on a single identity. One moment, it resembled an elegant, refined suit insignia. The next, the lines twisted, warped, unraveling into something chaotic and undefined.
The transformation was seamless yet unnatural, like an illusion breaking apart and reforming in an endless cycle. The longer Lucian stared, the more it felt as if the card itself was hesitating, uncertain of what it truly was, flickering between deception and revelation, control and madness.
Then, a final pulse of energy rippled through the air.
The card's aura surged, its classification shifting before his eyes.
Legendary.
Lucian swallowed, his breathing uneven. He had pushed it beyond its original limits, and in doing so, had created something truly unique.
But at what cost?
His mind still throbbed, the lingering echoes of the whispers clawing at his thoughts. They had never been this strong before. He had invited chaos in, and it had answered.
He summoned the card, his fingers brushing against its surface. The moment he activated it, a surge of energy flooded his body, raw and overwhelming. His breath hitched as the chaotic force coiled around him, twisting through his veins like something alive. His vision blurred, the world around him flickering in and out of focus as the energy sought to take hold.
The card pulsed violently in his hand, waiting for his command.
Lucian shut his eyes, focusing. If the card allowed him to shift his mark, then it had to respond to his intent. He needed to think clearly, to visualize it.
Spade.
He imagined the mark of the Spade Suit. Solid, refined, controlled. The suit his family had belonged to, the one he should have been part of before chaos took everything. He let the thought take hold, pushing aside the Wildcard's erratic presence, willing his body to align with the suit he was supposed to have.
A sharp pulse shot through his palm. He barely managed to look down before the change took effect.
The laughing Joker was gone.
In its place, a clean, precise emblem now rested against his skin. A black Spade, bold and unyielding, with a pair of crossed carving tools embedded at its center. The mark looked natural, seamless, as though it had always belonged there. No traces of the Wildcard mark remained, no chaotic edges, no erratic flickers.
It was perfect.
For a moment, Lucian only stared. The sight of it stirred something deep within him, something old, something that had never quite left.
A tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
For the first time in months, he looked normal. Free. The weight pressing on his shoulders, the constant tension of being hunted, the suffocating truth of what he had become. it all felt lighter.
But then, the whispers returned.
They surged back with renewed fury, their voices pressing into his skull, laughing, mocking, twisting his fleeting sense of peace into something hollow.
"You're not really free," they whispered.
Lucian's breath caught in his throat. The momentary relief shattered as the voices grew louder, clawing at the corners of his mind. The chains of chaos, invisible yet ever-present, tightened around him once more. He clenched his fists, his entire body tensing as reality crushed down on him. His chest felt hollow, the ache of something missing settling deep inside him.
Then Triboulet's laughter broke through the silence, sharp and gleeful.
"Oh, Lucian, you should see your face!" he cackled. "For a moment, you really thought you had won, didn't you?"
Lucian said nothing, his expression unreadable.
Triboulet leaned closer, his voice laced with mockery, his grin stretching impossibly wide. "You wanted freedom, but chaos doesn't let go that easily. And now? Now, you owe it something in return."
Lucian exhaled, his hand closing around the card.
"Survival is the only priority," he told himself.
Even if it cost him everything.
Triboulet's laughter didn't stop. If anything, it grew louder.
"You gambled, Lucian," he whispered. "Now let's see how long before the house collects its debt."
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Name: False Covenant
Rarity: Legendary
Rank: Rankless
Description: Alters both the physical appearance of the mark and the aura it emits, allowing the user to shift between the Wildcard Suit and any other suit known to the user. The engraved mark seamlessly transforms to match the chosen suit, while the energy signature adapts accordingly. Any form of magical detection, intuition, or suit-based tracking will perceive the user as a legitimate bearer of the selected suit.
Weakness (Hidden): While highly effective for deception, prolonged use may cause subtle distortions, briefly revealing traces of the Wildcard's chaotic nature beneath the disguise.
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