Entering the city of Gama wasn’t too difficult. Adam didn't even have to pay the toll - unless Belmordo's curse counted. The would-be lord had seemed increasingly pleased with himself as time went on. Every now and then, he would surreptitiously glance at Adam, as if expecting the Lord of Penumbria to break down and beg for their contract to be annulled.

I guess a bit of my worry is showing through to my face, Adam thought. Oh, he wasn't concerned about the curse, not in the slightest. Rather, he'd been thinking about what this situation implied for the future. The consequences of his public takedown of Aspreay were already beginning to show.

While the ability to trap souls into paintings was uniquely powerful, there were ways to protect yourself from it, even if you didn't know exactly how it worked. Belmordo was a prime example of this fact. He'd come to their negotiating table armed with countermeasures and contingencies. Not enough of them, and his arrogance would be his downfall regardless, but he'd still put Adam in a difficult position based on limited information.

And the more people learned about his painting Talent, the more they'd learn how to counteract it.

It's fine, he told himself. This was bound to happen. Can’t be relying on just my Talents all the time if I want to survive – no, if I want to LIVE in this world.

Adam could've scraped by if he'd only used his power sparingly. He could've accepted Tenver’s offer to escape Aspreay and never been seen again. He could've saved one or two people, gained their trust, and kept a low profile.

But he hadn’t, so here he was. And if he was going to make an effort at this whole ‘living’ business, he certainly wasn’t going to half-ass it.

Not again.

Never again.

To that end, information was vital. Adam drew back the carriage’s curtains. “Quite the city you’ve got here,” he muttered, studying the sights that awaited him outside. “It’s very different from Penumbria.”

“Ah, you have good taste,” Belmordo said, with a smug tone. “Aspreay could never see Gama that way. Always complained about it, said the city looked too dreary for his tastes. Too somber, he claimed! Can you believe that?”

Adam nodded absently. The first word that came to mind upon glimpsing the city...was one he purposefully repressed. The second word that came to his mind was tall. Gama was a city that felt born from stone and carved upwards, each building sliced together from the mountain's heart and rising to graze the sky above. Every turn appeared sharp and unapologetic, so uncaring of aesthetics it became an aesthetic in and of itself, a sort of stern gracefulness to it. The soaring tower that lay at the end of their path was merely a capstone to it all.

He could kind of see why Aspreay despised the city’s look, even when accounting for the former lord’s petty jealousy. For someone who spent their time in Penumbria, with its odd Bavarian-esque architecture of crossed timber and contrasting pale plaster, the greystone houses of Gama would have seemed downright eerie.

Try as he might, however, Adam couldn’t keep the first word that had come to mind from resurfacing. It was like telling something to avoid thinking of a pink elephant. Inevitably, they would, with the elephant in this case being the word gothic. It perfectly described Gama’s design sensibilities. Sure, the city looked somewhat different from what he'd seen on Earth and in history books, but between the angles, the masonry, and the goddamn arches everywhere, ‘gothic’ fit it to a tee.

And thinking of Gama in that way forced another question to jump to the forefront of his mind.

Why does this medieval fantasy world have architecture that’s straight out of Earth?

In all honesty, Earth hadn’t really occupied his thoughts much lately. At most he’d contemplate the difficulty of returning there somehow, sometimes – only to remember that he didn’t even know how he’d arrived here in the first place. Felt like he was putting the cart before the horse, there.

And even when he did think about Earth, those thoughts would come with the vague admittance that, in truth, there wasn’t much of a reason to go back at all. It wasn’t like anyone would miss him. If he went back, he’d just return to the same shit as before; struggling to pay rent while some smug prick lorded over him. At least here there was a chance that he could make some sort of positive difference. By trapping souls inside his tablet, but hey.

Just wish this place didn’t make it so hard to forget about dear old ‘home.’

“We have arrived, my lord,” Belmordo announced, with a theatrical air. He reached for the door and bowed, gesturing for Adam to leave the carriage first. “The Tower in the Sky – one of the proudest monuments in our grand, beautiful city.”

“And you trapped someone with a monstrous curse there?” Adam asked, his eyebrow raised and voice unimpressed as he stepped outside the carriage. “Seems disrespectful.”

“Tell that to my brother,” Belmordo dryly replied. He followed after Adam, dusting off his suit as he walked. “Vasco turned down my suggestion of the castle’s underground, where we could have kept a closer watch on her. He wanted his daughter confined in a location that was isolated, yet would still provide her with some comfort.”

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“You mean the lord rejected the idea of locking his daughter in the dungeons? How absolutely shocking.”

Adam tried to say it in as much of an obvious deadpan as possible. He wasn’t sure if he’d failed, or if the cause behind the city’s blue hue was Belmordo’s denseness bending light around him, because the man replied to it completely seriously. “It is rather vexing, yes. If only he’d listened to me...” Belmordo shook his head. “Nonetheless, Lady Solara agreed to my curse before losing her consciousness, rendering her unable to leave these walls. It is a safe confinement.”

“Why bother with removing her at all, then? Just leave her there forever. She won’t harm anyone.”

Belmordo hesitated, then looked down at the ground. “I...fear we’ve miscalculated slightly. Her curse grows stronger by the day. Mine won’t hold her forever. If she is to tear down the city walls – no, rather, her mere presence might cause the Rot in the city to become unmanageable. We need to contain it. Quickly.”

Debating that point would be a waste of time. Belmordo wanted Solara dead; even if Adam found a way to argue him down from his current justification, the man would just plow ahead and find a new one. Better to just not even try.

Instead, he turned his gaze and attention on the stone tower ahead. It coiled up defiantly, almost like whoever built it was trying to graze the sky itself. The damned thing was taller than most skyscrapers, but only as wide as your average house back on Earth. There was only one solitary opening, a thick set of double-doors after a short set of stone-steps, right at the base of the behemoth of a building.

There were windows, but not on the lower floors. Adam didn’t think it was possible to look into the tower from outside, or that at least it wouldn’t be an easy thing to accomplish.

“Have to say, I planned on spending a few more days before heading inside that tower,” Adam complained. “But if the Hangman is arriving in a day or two...nothing for it, I suppose.”

“My lord?” Belmordo dropped some of the subservience his rank would have him display. “If I may be so bold?”

“Just speak already.”

“I must ask you again not to take her Talent.”

Adam sighed. “We’ve already had this discussion.”

“I had hoped you would reconsider after having time to think on it. After the sight of what a single Hangman did...”

“Listen,” Adam began, impatiently. “I've gotta get this done ASAP before the Hangman arrives – so kindly stop wasting time I don’t have. Do you have a point you’re trying to make? Because if not, Belmordo, bud...I’m terribly sorry, but I have more important things to attend to.”

Belmordo stuttered out an apology, his expression a mixture of naked shock and pure outrage. No matter what he says about birthright being bullshit, he still thinks I’m more of a commoner than him, Adam noted. He'll pretend to treat me respectfully so long as I have my Lord Talent and rank, but that’s as far as it goes.

To his credit, Belmordo recovered fast. “Lord Adam, I only ask that you consider what the Hangman could do to your very heart, to the city of Penumbria. Think of your people, my lord.”

“Penumbria?” Adam repeated. “Why would – ah. I see. Bribery didn’t work, so you’re moving on to threats, is that it?”

“I do not threaten,” Belmordo assuaged, his eyes twinkling with defiance. “However, remember that your takeover of Aspreay’s title was...contentious. If word reaches the Empire before you can make your case to the Emperor...well, Hangmen are known to act independently. They’ve been granted the ability to make quick judgement calls, and are willing to do whatever it takes to preserve the Empire.”

“So if I don’t do what you want, bad things happen?” Adam said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “Yeah, I suppose that tracks. Even if I save Vasco’s daughter, and he’s inclined to defend me out of gratitude, it won’t matter so long as you speak with the Hangman first.”

“You see then, Lord Adam. My offer is most reasonable: you can refuse to save this woman and gain yourself a powerful ally to your city, at no risk to yourself. Alternatively, you risk gruesome death in order to gain a fierce enemy at little reward. There is only one logical course of action, do you not agree?”

Adam nodded. He had to admit it was hard to argue against that. “You have a point.”

“Fantastic!” Belmordo clasped his hands together. “Shall we embark upon the carriage once more, then? Let us hurry to the castle and drink to our new alliance. The once-commoners who took the title of–”

“Getting a bit ahead of yourself there,” Adam calmly said, pushing Belmordo aside and striding up the stone steps that led to the tower. “Said you had a point, and you do – but I’d still rather die than side with you. Sincerely.”

And with that, he opened the front doors to the tower, walked inside, then shut himself inside with a cursed monster.