“Hey! You two!”, yells a young lady trying to get their attention. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

Don nods before King could react.

“How about we help you clear some games? As rookies that don’t know too much about games, you’re probably wondering how to-”

It’s just another scam artist trying to coax them into joining their little group so they can make money off desperate or gullible people. King simply drags Don with him as he walks away. He doesn’t have the time or the patience to deal with these kinds of people or anyone getting on his nerves right now. All he needs to do right now is grow more powerful and not get sidetracked. Walking by an endless amount of futuristic booths trying to coax people into joining their entourage, he comes across just a handful of legitimate ones he deemed worthy of listening to.

The first booth to catch his interest is that of a group called "Ladies of War". Though men are heavily discouraged from joining their platoon, they too are offered positions where they could join partner organizations working with them. Apparently, their goal lies in allowing men and women to be equal. Even the magical side of this world seems to have its fair share of human rights issues.

Two more booths they took note of were Receptor Children and Flag Bearers. The two of them root out special talents for some goal they can’t quite grasp. Their cryptic speeches only confuse them. One thing that Franky knows about Receptor Children is the fact that Uri is one of them and may even be the core upholding the Akasha System.

The last booth they took an interest in was Magi, an organization promising salvation for Dream Catchers and the fulfillment of all their dreams. Lots of young Dream Catchers in black robes were standing behind a Dream Catcher with a white robe. People gathered and listened to their preachings and how each of them was saved by the Magi. Upon closer inspection, the one in white seems to be just as old as Don.

“You…”, says the preacher as he steps closer. “Your body… Are you okay?”

The stranger in white steps closer pulling off his hood. His hair as white as snow and his hair strands forming swirls… he reminds them of sheep and cotton candy. His eyes are akin to the night sky without light pollution. They’re as beautiful as they are kind complimenting his skin as fair as the moon.

“You don’t happen to have any headaches bothering you since you’ve looked that way?”, he asks.

“I don’t have them,” stammers Don. “As far as I know, I always looked like that.”

“If you ever need something, you can come in contact with the Magi and ask for a White Feather who goes by "Havel", ok?”, he adds before he heads back to entertain his followers.

Salvation, White Feather, Havel… Franky took note of this strange occurrence somehow believing them to be more trustworthy than Elena because of his own biases. Their cultish behavior is offputting enough that he believes it’s best to just move on. The flyer he handed out also spoke greatly of their three leading figures. "The Imaginator", is the one most prominently featured atop their flyer yet the only thing they can see of him is his silhouette.

After about two hours of trying to find their way out of this promotion and advertisement hell, they find an info desk manned by just a few young women with headsets. Suits and the like are their uniforms. The info desk is a roundtable completely closed off allowing no way in or out. To get to the help desk technicians manning it, you’d have to break through what seems to be a plexiglass screen. They, the technicians, access it by using the elevator behind them. Standing in line for just about two minutes, they finally get to talk to people that can actually help them.

“I’m sorry but how do I get to Spade Base? We’ve been trying to get there these past two hours but this thing is impossible to navigate with all these ads and promotions,” he says.

“The Y-Vambrance you’re wielding is all you need but just to be sure, I’ll hand you this pamphlet mapping out the entirety of Ace Base. Right behind this info desk is a sign leading you to the station. A train should depart in just about three minutes so I doubt you’ll catch it. The one after that should depart in just 33 minutes, about the time needed to reach the station,” she says. “Have a safe trip!”

After running off, they barely make it onto the train. Surprisingly, there are a good amount of free seats they can occupy making their hour-long ride far more pleasant than it already was. From Jerusalem to somewhere off the coast of Japan… A short journey all within a ghost train. Somewhere in Japanese waters lies the entrance to Spade Base, a bastion of show fights and death battles without consequences.

The station they’re in seems to lie underground. Getting off they’re greeted by the unpleasant smells of urine, vomit, and fecal matter. Franky left the house at 6:00 am, was done with his registration at 7:03 am, and spent till 9:30 at Ace Base. After that, they made it to Spade Base by 10:54 am with just about seven hours before they have to leave for the thing he came here for.

“Are you hungry? When’s the last time you’ve eaten something?”, Franky asks. “Weird thing to ask when greeted by these by these pleasantries…”

“I don’t have-”

“Then I’ll pay. Don’t worry about money, I lent some from a friend,” he says insisting that Don eat something. “I can’t have you starving. That would go against what Ben preaches.”

The crowd and the lack of personal space is suffocating to Don yet manageable for Franky. Don has to hold onto Franky’s sleeve. Barely handling one-on-one conversations, let alone confrontations, Don cannot stand crowds. Swiftly, Franky drags the two of them out of the crowd heading for a tavern.

Angel’s Share, a collection of taverns known for its cheap yet incredible whiskey, is the one Hellfire recommended to Franky. It’s also known for its gambling addicts and illegal gambling that flies under the radar because of the number of people that come to Spade Base just to experience the joy of having their beverages. Picking the one furthest away from the station, they spend two entire hours just browsing and taking a look at all there is to experience.

Finally, they get to take a seat somewhere in the back. Believing that they’re least likely to be bothered this far back, he lowers his guard letting his back face the rest of the establishment.

A waiter approaches the two of them. Dressed in casual wear with a magnolia tattoo on his forearm, he gently places a menu on their table.

“I’ve never seen you around, so I’m guessing that you’re new here?”

“Today’s the first time,” Franky replies while staring into the waiter’s eyes. Pitch black with a red x being the only thing within these eyes.

“I see. I haven’t been working here for too long but I think I recognize most of the people that regularly come here. Name’s Nico, short for Nicolay.”

“Franky and Don,” says Franky.

“Then just a plate of wings-”

Don shakes his head signaling with his fingers that he wants three.

“Three plates of wings,” Franky says correcting himself. “Add orange juice and Irish whiskey. That should be all.”

“Okay, then. I’ll be right back,” says Nicolay as he scurries off.

A group of four approaches them as they enjoy their meal. Two male teens, a woman in her early twenties, and a bald man who seems to be in his forties…

“Hey, usually it’s us four sitting here, but we’ll let you off if you give us some of that food,” jokingly says one of the teenage boys as he reaches for a chicken wing. Before he can grasp just one wing, Franky breaks and twists his thumb, his index finger, and his middle finger.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Does this table belong to you?”, Franky asks out of spite glaring at the broken fingers.

“I was just joking! The other tables already are more or less fully seated. I was just trying to see how you would react!”, he whines as the other boy scoffs at him. “Say something, Sylvia!”

“I’m so sorry. Leo thought this would be funny even though we told him not to-”

“Well anyway! Could we take a seat here?”, asks Leo beaming even though three of his fingers were broken just a few seconds ago. “We’ll pay!”

“You should have started with that,” says Franky. “You can take a seat if you pay.”

The four of them are just a group of friends that come together once a month to eat out and participate in games. Leo, the one that nearly started a fight, is 23 years old and surprisingly the second-oldest among their friend group. He stopped aging not long after becoming a Dream Catcher and has been stuck as a 15-year-old boy ever since then. He believes slaying a demon that has been around for thousands of years is why he has stopped aging as some kind of curse. He also stopped growing stronger which is why he spends every week participating in games hoping for some kind of change.

His friend, Calypso, actually is just 15 years old and seems to have the ability to charm others with his alluring voice and gentle smile. As a Greek teen with an interest in men, he feels he is most at home in Spade Base where he’s only judged for his achievements but never for his feminine nature, his orientation, or his lack of confidence. Only here, while surrounded by his four friends, does he feel alive.

Sylvia is a 26-year-old German Dream Catcher not too far from where Franky originates from. Like Elena, she’s a veteran with all kinds of duties. One of her duties lies in being a part of the Bavarian Council led by a group of five Dream Catchers overseeing all there is to handle in Bavaria, the biggest state of Germany. She and Elena are friends close enough to corroborate her story.

The last member of their entourage is Schmidt, a man that grew aware of his child’s special abilities. Sadly, his child passed while battling a Ravager. His wife left him shortly after their child, in her eyes, disappeared because she couldn’t bear to be reminded of the child she had lost every time she looked at his face. Believing that he should grow stronger, he became a Dream Catcher to fulfill two dreams: his child’s dream of reaching the moon and his dream of making sure no one parent would ever have to deal with this kind of loss again.

Their fifth member goes by Maria, the leader of "Ladies of War". They don’t address her any more than that because they believe Franky will meet her soon.

“Well… I think we should go now, right?”, says Franky. “We can’t participate in the Five of Spades if we don’t leave now.”

“Then don’t! You should partake in the Ten of Spades. It’s way more fun than some tournament even though you’re less likely to make money because of its difficulty,” says Leo.

“But what’s the point then?”, counters Franky. “If I’m not making money then I may as well drop out.”

“The experience. Territorial disputes, Fusions, facing thousands of minions, Calamities, assassins because someone put a bounty on your head… People and demons aren’t necessarily nice or fair. You get a more in-depth look at all kinds of abilities when facing people in a tournament but a Battle Royale truly hones your skills thanks to the chaotic nature of these things,” claims Calypso. “And maybe we’ll get to help you out.”

Sylvia silently agrees while Schmidt is entertained with the idea of supporting them. Their goal now lies in registering for the Ten of Spades, a Battle Royale where 1000 players can fight to the death. No one dies in these games because of special mechanics unknown to most. Heading back to the station, there’s a railway track for each game except for the face cards as they seem to share a track.

The Ten of Spades is in the far back with a small terminal one would see in sci-fi media. Hovering your arm with the Y-Vambrance over the terminal will determine whether or not there still is space for more players and whether or not you’re allowed to participate. Veterans are barred from partaking in the Two of, Three of, or Four of Cards while rookies cannot partake in face card games unless they have cleared all Numbered Cards.

The six of them register together and quickly hurry off into the train as they are one of the last few participants to enter. Only ten more spaces and five more minutes are left until they depart. With these leftover minutes, they believe it’s best to discuss a battle plan.

“The problem with this game is the fact that we all are separated and placed according to our skill and power level,” says Schmidt. “Since you two are rookies, you’ll likely be on the outskirts of the arena which can be a blessing or a curse.”

“Blessing or a curse?”, inquires Don.

“The arena is massive and changes according to the seasons. The outskirts up north and the outskirts down south are the furthest you could be from each other, so you’ll have to pray that it doesn’t come to that,” answers Sylvia. “Me, Leo, and Calypso are most likely further to the center while you two are on the outskirts with Schmidt stuck somewhere between all that.”

“The worst part is the fact that you’re kind of boxed in with no route for escape. Since you can’t go much further away from people, you’re forced to engage in combat,” adds Calypso.

“Yeah! I remember getting bullied by people that only go after rookies because it’s easy money,” claims Leo. “On top of that they’re so desperate and insistent on chasing after you that killing them is pretty much the only option!”

“King, you pride yourself in your speed, right?”, asks Sylvia.

“Yeah, why?”

“Then it’s best that you look for Don while he stays in the same area. He’ll have to survive by himself while you are away.”

“And I’ll fire several flares representing our colors!”, adds Leo. “That way we at least know how far away we are from each other.”

“I’ll do it as well… It’s a bright light for me that lays low,” says Calypso.

“Then I guess… That’s all? We can’t really do a lot more than that,” grunts Schmidt.

Sylvia hands Don a business card with all her credentials to Don. “In case you’re looking for a home, there’s always something I can find for you.”

“Thank you,” he stammers as he puts the card in one of his pockets.

Up ahead lies the tunnel wherein they will be separated. Bracing for what’s about to come, King readies his weapon and ends up in what seems to be a container. Just twenty people are resting within this dimly lit container and he seems to be the last one to join them. People have already formed their little cliques the most notable of which seems to be a group of six. They look weak and uncertain yet remain hooded for some unknown reason. They all seem to be a part of the Magi.

Most interesting is the young woman everyone seems to avoid. She seems to be meditating with a massive lance resting on her lap. Her aura screams of supreme might and serenity. Upon opening her eyes, King decides to approach her while everyone else frowns.

“Would you mind if I sit next to you?”, he asks. “Everyone else has already formed their cliques. They don’t seem all that inviting”

“Sure?”, she replies rather perplexed and taken aback.

“That weapon… it’s a relic, right?”, King asks. He can tell that what he’s doing probably isn’t the brightest idea he’s ever had but it’s an idea nonetheless and something he needs to do to become stronger.

“It is. Key of Serenity,” she claims.

“Is there a difference between divine keys and relics?”, he inquires.

“All divine keys are relics but not all relics are divine keys. People often don’t know the difference and mistakenly use them interchangeably. Divine Keys represent absolute might. Memoriams are records of people or civilizations long gone. Everything else is just classified as a relic as far as I know.” She still seems rather confused as to why King is the one asking her these questions.

“Say, do you not know who I am?”, she asks.

“You’re like 3rd-ranked worldwide, right?”

“And you’re not scared?”

“Of what?”

She can’t help but laugh at King. Usually, people would be incredibly flustered because of her status and rank but he believes that right now her status is of no importance. The games only dictate rules and none of them state the Top 10 dictate how they are treated. Though, if they were to hold grudges, King would return home to his friends and family slaughtered or held hostage.

“Well, it was nice meeting you. Hope you have fun,” she says as she closes her eyes while everyone around them is gossiping about the two of them.

Her straight and short hair almost glows while she meditates. Her blue eyes are only looking inward as she holds onto her divine key. Her white and black armor with blue accents all seem to add to her sense of serenity as well. For now, all he can do is wait and glare at others he believes to be interesting. Unfriendly looks, scoffs, insults, whispers,… all he can do is wait until all these pass. All he can do is close his eyes and wait…

…only to be awoken by gusts of wind. The first thing he sets his sights on is the seemingly endless rocky desert with sand limiting his view. The eerie howls of wind indicate that for now, no one is nearby. Right behind him is a storm barrier that fully obstructs his view. Believing that it’s best to at least check out why it’s blocking the rest of this world off from whatever is within that barrier, he dives in.