Sitting on the floor, Michael watched the world shift around him. It started with the colors of his home, beige walls with dark brown furniture, then they slowly faded away. It wasn't a seamless change, but one full of tremors and shaking. Shivering in fright, he stared at the walls as their paint rolled up like curtains. The furniture shaking wildly only to split from the center and streak across the living room to the middle of the floor. All of them gathering into a tight ball of a glistering dark brown color. As their colors faded, they became a dark metallic grey, they began to elongate then shrink over and over again.

The windows were covered by black brick walls that looked better placed in an ancient and abandoned church. With their arrival was the loss of light; the only comfort that kept him from losing his sanity. Suddenly, the floor under him rumbled and creaked in ominous ways. The colorful carpets and rugs began to sink down as a cold and hard floor took their place. Black like the bricks that covered the windows, the floor was a single massive stone rather than many. The longer he stared the weirder everything became, the farthest wall started to split into countless metallic bars, the amalgamation of what was once his houses furniture stretched into links for a chain, and lastly but by far the worst of them all was the wall he placed his back on.

It, unlike the others, he noticed had a single tiny window barely a foot across and half that in length. A sinister light filtered in from the tiny window and with it came a frigid cold that made his body subconsciously shake. Standing, emotions somehow not felt like an empty host, he stared out into a vast world very unlike his own. Very high up, he stared down into a city bustling with wagons and medieval men and women, or so he thought some were because others seemed too big or just a completely different color altogether. Looking farther out, he saw three sets of massive walls surrounding the city; the further in they were the bigger they became.

Closest to where he stood were magnificent mansions, villas, and even a few castles with their own miniature walls, at least compared to the monstrosities that guarded the city. Each one had a plethora of guards wearing, in his opinion, random colors based on where they were guarding. Directly around where he was were hundreds of people going here or there, mostly minding their business. But what struck him as odd was was that they all wore gold. Whether it was golden armor or simply a golden potato sack, they were color coordinated, even some had nothing but underwear and chains all over their body, of course, they were golden as well.

But, those that were chained were never what he assumed was the dominate peoples. Men and women of greenish and light bluish color filled their place as they carried heavy things or more simply took care of the dominant races children. There were even some that seemed to be more animal than human with fluffy ears, fur, and muzzles aplenty. They were never allowed near the children, always kept closer to the stables and gardens than anything else. Looking away, Michael let his back slide down the rough walls as he fell down to his previously seated position. His mind ran circles after circles, yet he could not find the emotion necessary to panic or scream in terror.

He had done nothing more than get out of bed around midnight to get a glass of water, only to find the world around him vibrating wildly and morphing into this hell. Looking down at his body, he noticed how gaunt he seemed under the layers of dirt that covered his skin; it was like he had been starved for days on end. Rubbing a hand on his forearm, he removed enough of the dirt to see his complexion. Letting out a sigh, he saw a tan colored arm extremely similar to what he assumed was the dominant race that probably enslaved all those people out there. It was a small consolation really, that even though his situation was probably one of the worst case scenarios for any ordinary person he was at the very minimum a free being.

Raising his head in what was a greater effort than he expected, he stared at his surroundings. The place had stopped morphing and finally took its calm place. He knew he was supposed to be afraid or be panicking and screaming for help, yet he could not bring himself to do it. It felt like the world was minute and the color was too. Then again, everything that surrounded him was a drab and dull mixture of dirty blacks and greys. He sat at the back end of prison with nothing inside it but him and the light rags that covered his modesty. No bed or even something to use the restroom in.

On the other side stood a gate of bars locked in multiple areas. Past it was a hall that ran past where his cell was, a bit of light shining from somewhere at the end of it. The floor was covered with dust and only a few footprints that led to the front of his gate signaled that it had been used in a very long time, and even the prints themselves were covered by a small layer of dust lower than the rest of the accumulated areas.

With dull eyes, he stared at it all without a change in his emotional scape. Looking directly around him, he found two things of interest to him. Both keeping him intrigued longer than anything else in this dark room he found himself in. They even sparked the tiniest amount of emotions in him; more than anything else he had witnessed. It was a sign that maybe he had not broken, and he was still a bit normal or recoverable.

The first thing he saw was to his right, just in reach of his hands. Laying on the ground dead and partially eaten was a rat. With black fur, it had a large bite on its back, Michael kind of assumed that he or what he was before he got here had taken a desperate chomp off the first thing he thought was edible. It brought out a tiny frown that made his head hurt incredibly. His sense of dignity was insul-

Wait. Sense of dignity?

Holding his head, he heard more than felt memories of another life rush into his mind. Of someone named Ruthar Ges Lunar Kinderal III. Of a rich noble family with too much gold then they could use in generations. Of a guy who loved to duel, read, and most importantly spend time with his once beloved fiance. Or at least before her family betrayed him for the coin he had received after his father sold everything the family owned into gold and platinum coins right before he passed away. It was his father's plot to give him, his last child and last blood of the Kinderal Family, the best odds of survival against the plans of those who would see me die.

A tight feeling of despair and anger assaulted his chest as the memories of the day his father-in-law and his fiance found out about the liquidated capital. He had expected that the lady he fell in love with would have stood by his side through this struggle as she had promised long ago. Yet, when push came to shove, or the blinding light and glamour of millions of platinum and gold coins, she sold him for it without hesitation.

Shaking his head, he turned to his left and there he saw the cause of his greatest struggles. A nondescript and unassuming ring with no decorations or bright colors. A simple silver ring made from what looked like was a cheap material. Picking up the ring, he fitted it on his pinky. A smile slowly broke out on his face that slowly turned into a peal of stomach-churning laughter that had him rolling on the ground like a madman.

It took effort, but he and his father had created a fake that was made of platinum and inlaid with gold and other valuable materials. It had also given off an aura of magical might that had everyone assuming it was the ring that held the dragon’s fortune. Michael, err, Ruther had questioned the necessity of the act then, but with his father's headstrong mentality, he had caved into the tiny prank he thought it to be then.

Now, everyone waited until he broke, or gave up the wealth. Then he would give access to the ring, or disown the rights to it.

Closing his eyes, Michael pushed his mind into the ring as he had done a million times before, or at least as Ruther had. Slowly, a world filled with wealth came before him as he stared at the screen before him, listing everything that was placed into the cheap ring they threw into his cell after him with disdain. An ‘insult’ to his lineage that he only possessed the tiny worthless thing.

Storage Ring ~

Platinum ~ 7,865,454

Gold ~ 66,862, 244

Silver ~ 139,899,765

Copper ~ 1,009,898,762

Swords ~23

Spears ~ 89

Shields ~ 587

Glaives ~ 60

Armor Sets ~ 147

Monster Cores (Legendary) ~ 57

Monster Cores (Epic) ~ 437

Monster Cores (Rare) ~ 691

Monster Cores (Strong) ~ 1,287

Spell Scrolls ~ 997 - 197 (L) - 500 ® - 300 (E)

Papers of Rights ~ 100

Dragon Spirit Stones ~ 6

Celestial Inheritance ~ 5

Phoenix Remanants ~ 9

The Deep Abyss Lineage ~ 8

The Scripts of War and Political Intrigue ~ (Vol) 64