Duckworth couldn’t stop smiling as he felt a gloved hand in his tighten.

Gently, he was led towards the centrum of a huge, golden hall. The lights of a hundred candles almost blinded him, and a thousand more gazes crossed his as he got turned around, now facing the owner of the gloved hand.

It was hard to make out his face. Somehow, Duckworth still had a feeling that he knew this man and he felt perfectly safe as the lead started to lead him into a slow waltz. Everything seemed perfect, and just as it should be.

“You look dazzling tonight,” the man leaned in, his features blurred by the gleaming light, but Duckworth could make out his smile just enough.

Duckworth looked down at his arm – and what was once before an arm dressed in hardy, leather gloves and stained whites, was replaced by shining, white gloves, and paneled sleeves.

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“This… is like a dream,” Duckworth sighed with a smile fleeting his lips, his eyes passing over the grandeur interior. His own amazement seemed to amuse his dancing partner, as he heard a chuckle:

“Well, it should be. This is your home, after all,”

Duckworth froze. Now his eyes were headed straight for the shadowed face.

“All of this?” he whispered, as if he could barely draw a breath in disbelief.

All this glory, all this richness… Never would he have to work again because who worked if they were this rich? This was… exactly what he wanted.

The man chuckled again, but this time his grin started to extend his mouth into a distorted laughter.

Duckworth eyes started to notice the seams of the universe he was in unravelling, and the music turned into the maddening sound of an angry rooster.

Duckworth didn’t even feel frightened, as he knew exactly what was coming next.