The underbelly of Aurora Prime smelled of recycled air and secrets. Jarek followed Kael down a narrow corridor lit by strips of failing crimson neon, their footsteps muffled against the metal floor. Up in the public casino floors, wealth was gold and glitter and crowds. Down here, it was quiet, controlled—measured in favors and debts, not just credits.
They stopped in front of a matte-black door with no handle, only a faint circular indentation at eye level. Kael pressed her thumb against it, and the ring lit up white. A low hum vibrated through the wall before the door slid open without a sound. She glanced at him. "Ready for this?"
"Ready enough," he said, though his stomach was tight. "And if I'm not, I'll just spend my way out."
Kael smirked faintly. "Careful. At the Table of Spires, every credit's a blade."
Inside, the room was dim and hazy with smoke. A single round table dominated the center, its surface made of some black alloy that caught the light like liquid metal. Around it sat five figures, each wearing a mask—gold, silver, or onyx—ornate enough to make them look like predators at a feast. One, in a pale silver mask shaped like a mouthless face, gestured for Jarek to come closer.
"You are late," the voice said, cold and genderless through a modulator. "Sit."
He slid into the empty chair. In the center of the table, a stack of crystalline chips caught the light. The silver mask pushed one toward him. "Minimum buy-in: fifty thousand electronic credits."
Jarek's pulse picked up. That was almost half his current balance. He transferred the amount without hesitation, feeling the familiar hum in his mind.
[Expenditure Detected. Calculating rebate…]
The transfer went through, and instantly the chips reappeared in his account multiplied.
> [Rebate processed: 2.5× multiplier. You have received 125,000 credits. Net gain: +75,000 credits.]
He kept his face unreadable, but inside it was a rush. Not absurd inflation, not magic money—just solid, real value. A weapon in the right hands.
The cards were thin wafers, their holographic suits and numbers shifting mid-deal to keep the game unpredictable. The masked players barely spoke. Every movement was calculated, every bet a knife between the ribs. Jarek lost a few hands early, studying the small tells—an extra pause before pushing chips, the way a certain player tilted his head when bluffing. By the fourth hand, he started setting his own rhythm, betting aggressively in calculated bursts, triggering his rebate in ways that looked like daring plays rather than a system exploit.
That was when the System flashed in his mind.
> [Luck Mission #1 Active: End the session with a net gain of exactly 300,000 credits. Reward: +1 Luck Point. Failure: -1 Luck Point.]
His jaw tightened. Exactly three hundred thousand meant no wild wins. He'd have to walk the razor's edge.
The man in the black mask broke the rhythm by shoving all his chips forward in one motion. "New blood plays careful," he said in a deep growl. "I prefer to see blood." The pot was worth nearly four hundred thousand credits.
Jarek felt the tension in the room shift toward him. Fold and they'd smell fear. Call and win, and the mission would be blown. The System pulsed again.
> [Optional Luck Event: Quantum Marker activation possible. Outcome unpredictable. Activate?]
He glanced at Kael. She gave the slightest nod.
"Call," Jarek said.
The cards were revealed—the black mask had a strong hand, but the last morph of Jarek's final card made his stronger. He won. The pot was huge, too huge.
He needed to lose, fast. He began bleeding credits with deliberate precision, placing smaller bets he knew he'd lose. The rebates still trickled in, but the numbers slowly settled into the perfect balance. On the final hand, he lost just enough to watch his balance click into place.
> [Luck Mission Completed. +1 Luck Point. Current Luck: 1.]
The warmth that spread through him wasn't physical—it was like a hidden edge, a quiet weapon sharpening inside him.
The silver mask leaned forward. "You are not like the others."
"That's the idea," Jarek said evenly.
"You spend as if the outcome is already yours. We could use someone like that."
Kael's voice cut in, sharper now. "He's with me."
The silver mask didn't look at her. "House of Spires does not ask twice. Consider this a standing invitation—and a warning. The next time we meet, you will either sit with us… or be played as one of the stakes."
When they stepped back into the neon-lit corridors of Aurora Prime, Kael exhaled hard. "You just caught the Spires' attention. That's not always a good thing."
Jarek smiled faintly, the Quantum Marker heavy in his pocket. "Attention is a kind of currency too."
The crowd swallowed them both, but his mind was already racing ahead. This game had just changed.