Chương 170: Chapter 169 - The golden sky

The golden sky stretched in all directions. No clouds. No sun. Just endless light that came from nowhere and everywhere. The buildings around him were the same buildings from Port Vexis. The same stone. The same windows. The same streets. But nothing moved. People stood frozen in doorways, mid-step, mid-word, mid-breath. A merchant reaching for a customer's coin. A child running after a rolling apple. A woman laughing at something someone had said. All of them suspended. Waiting.

Lucid stepped out of the alley and his body did not hurt. His stomach was whole. His shirt was clean. The blood was gone. He pressed his hand against his abdomen. Felt nothing. No wound. No pain. No memory of the blade except the memory itself.

'I was dead. I was dying. I was bleeding out in a dirty alley and now I am standing here.'

'This must be some sick joke...'

'Am I immortal?' He silently laughed. He looked down at himself. His clothes were the same. His hands were the same. The ring on his finger was gone. The box with the key was gone. Everything he had carried was gone except his chains. They were still there. Coiled in the space between his ribs. Waiting. He walked out of the alley into the main street. The market was frozen. People stopped in every pose imaginable. A woman with her hand extended toward a piece of fruit. A man with his mouth open mid-haggle.

A child looking up at something Lucid could not see. Their eyes were open but they were not looking at anything. Their chests did not rise. Their hands did not move.

'They are waiting. For something. For someone. For whatever comes next in this place.' He saw her at the end of the street. The girl with the wide brimmed hat. The same merchant girl from the market. The one who sold him the worthless ring. The one who led him into the alley. The one who stood beside Celeste while he died. She was facing away from him. Her hat was tilted. Her coat was brown. Her hands were in her pockets. Lucid's hands curled into fists. His chains stirred in his chest.

'You.' He started walking. His steps echoed off the frozen buildings. Nothing else moved. Just him. Just her.

"You." He said it loud. The word carried through the golden silence. She turned. Her face was the same face. Brown hair. Sharp features. Eyes obscured, that engineered smile that had taken his money. But her eyes were different now. They were not brown anymore. They were gold. Burning. Deep. Like looking into something that had no bottom. He reached out to grab her. His hand passed through her shoulder like smoke. She dissolved. White mist. Gold particles. Her body scattered like ash in wind. The hat fell.

Hit the cobblestones. Rolled once. Stopped. Lucid stood there. Hand still extended. Breathing hard. The gold particles floated around him. Brushed against his face. His arms. His chest. Warm. Gentle. Like something that was saying goodbye.

'What are you? What is this place? What is happening to me?' The particles faded. The hat remained. A brown hat with a wide brim lying on golden stone. He bent down. Picked it up. The fabric was soft. Worn. Old. He turned it over in his hands. No markings. No symbols. Nothing to explain anything. A voice spoke behind him.

"Ooo... fresh currency." He spun around. A man stood in the middle of the street. Not frozen like the others. Moving. Breathing. Real. He was older. Fifty maybe. Silver hair cut short. A face that had been handsome once and was now something else. Worn. Sharp. The particular sharpness of someone who had spent their life measuring things. He wore expensive clothes. Dark coat. White shirt. A gold pendant hung from his neck. A diamond ring caught the golden light on his finger.

"You are the one who moved," the man said.

"The one who broke the freeze. The one who walked out of the alley when no one else could." Lucid looked at the hat in his hands. Looked at the man. Looked at the frozen city stretching around them. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"Where am I?"

"The Domain of Mercyros. The space between value and transaction. The place where debts are settled and futures are traded." The man smiled. It was not a kind expression.

"You are dead. Or dying. Or somewhere between. Here, it does not matter. What matters is what you have. And what you do not." Lucid's spoke, "I do not have anything." The man laughed. It was a dry sound. Like paper tearing.

"You have nothing. That is the most valuable thing anyone has brought into this Domain in years." He stepped closer. His eyes moved over Lucid like he was appraising something.

"The others come here with gold. With jewels. With contracts and deeds and promises of future wealth. They bring things they are afraid to lose. That fear makes them weak. You have nothing to lose. That makes you dangerous." He extended his hand.

"Enter a binding contract with me. A game of transactions. Standard rules. Standard terms. Winner takes the loser's stake." Lucid looked at the hand. At the gold pendant. At the diamond ring. At the man who thought he was offering something.

"What is your stake?" The man's smile widened.

"One hundred thousand gold. Liquid. Transferable. No conditions." Lucid's heart stopped. Or would have stopped if it was still beating. One hundred thousand gold. Enough to buy the relic. Enough to stop the cultists. Enough to change everything.

'This is a trap. It has to be a trap. No one offers that much gold to a stranger in a dead city.'

"What is my stake?"

"Whatever you have. Whatever you are. The Domain will decide what it is worth." Lucid thought about the boy with the guillotine. About the compound interest. About the debt that would consume him eventually.

'I saw what happens when you bet what you do not understand. I saw someone trade their whole future to save me. And I am going to do the same thing for gold that probably does not exist.' He took the man's hand. The Domain hummed. Light pulsed from the buildings. From the frozen people. From the golden sky. A table materialized between them. Solid wood. Clean. Two chairs. Two glasses. A ledger. They sat. The man produced a pendant and a ring. Set them on the table. The gold caught the light. Threw it back.

The weight of them pressed against the air. Against the Domain. Against everything Lucid thought he understood about value.

"A hundred thousand in liquid assets," the man said.

"Verified. Certified. Transferable upon completion of the contract." The ledger opened. Words appeared. Written in a language Lucid did not know but understood completely. Terms. Conditions. The architecture of a transaction that would bind him until it was satisfied or he was consumed.

"Your stake," the man said. Lucid sat there. Empty handed. Empty pockets. Nothing. No key. No gold. No anything. He did have that ring, but he doubted it was worth anything close to 100 thousand gold coins. The Domain waited.

'What do I have? What do I have that anyone would want?' The chain of heart stirred, that's right the trait Alice had given him. The ones that lived in his chest and healed him and bound him and would not let him die.

'No. Not those. I cannot lose those. Those are all I have. Those are all I am.' The man tapped his fingers on the table. Impatient. Lucid thought about the alley. About the blade. About dying alone in the dirt because he had nothing anyone wanted and no one came to save him.

'If I do not bet something, I stay here. In this frozen place. Watching the dead city while the real one moves on without me.' The man tapped again. Lucid's mind raced. He thought about the boy. About the compound interest. About the guillotine. About the weight of a future traded for someone else.

'He had nothing. He traded everything. And he did it without hesitation.' The man leaned forward.

"If you have no stake, the contract cannot proceed. You will remain here until the Domain decides to release you. That could be moments. It could be years. It could be never." Lucid looked at the frozen city. At the people waiting. At the girl who had led him here and dissolved into light. He closed his eyes.

'Thats right...'

'It's worth a shot' He opened his eyes. Looked at the man.

"I bet a thousand fate essence." The man blinked. The Domain hummed. A voice spoke. Not from the man. From the air. From the light. From the space between value and transaction. A thousand fate essence converted to hundred gold coins. The man laughed.

"A hundred gold. Against my hundred thousand. You insult me." Lucid sat there. Hands empty. Pockets empty. Chains coiled in his chest. The voice spoke again. Something pressed against Lucid's awareness. Something deep. Something that lived in the space where his chains touched his heart.

"Would you like to trade fate essence?" He looked down at his hands. White light flickered between his fingers. Not the chains. Something else. Something deeper. The part of Alice that lived in him. The part that healed him. The part that kept him alive.

'If I trade this, I can continue on trading. I have an infinite' He looked at the man. At the gold. At the pendant. At the ring.

"I summon more fate essence." The light in his chest flared. Burned. The chains uncoiled. Something tore loose from the place where his heart should have been. White light poured out of him. Filled the table. Filled the street. Filled the golden sky. The voice spoke again. Ten million fate essence converted to one million gold coins. The man stared. His face had lost its color. His hands were shaking.

"What... what are you?" Lucid smiled. It was not a kind expression.

"I am the one with nothing. And nothing is the hardest thing to take from someone." As he said that he smiled, the fog in his face gave a way to a wicked grin as blood poured from the edge of his mouth. He coughed a bloody laugh.

'Not this...' He pushed the light across the table. The ledger recorded. The Domain accepted. The man looked at the white light pooling between them. At the value that should not exist. At the boy who should be dead.

"This is not possible. No one has this much essence. No one can carry this much. You would burn. You would die. You would—""I did die. In an alley. With a sword through my stomach. And I woke up here. With nothing. And everything." He leaned forward. His voice was quiet. His eyes were not.

"Now. Let us play." The man looked at the ledger. At the white light. At the boy who had come back from death with something that should not exist. He smiled. It was the smile of someone who had just realized they had made a terrible mistake.

"I accept."