“Why doesn’t this stupid thing work?” Altera swiped over the map on her screen. Her phone’s focus jumped from one point to another and refused to pinpoint her location. She let out a groan. “I give up. We’re lost.”

Altera put her phone back into her handbag, crossed her arms, and turned her head.

Images of poker cards, women, and alcoholic beverages flashed without pause. No matter where she looked, neon sign pressed their advertisement into her face, prompting Heorot’s people to waste their lives, time, and money.

“Let’s just go to a random building. It’s not like we’re light on Honey.” Between his fingers, Eric held a black plastic card with a golden chip in its center. He pointed at the building with on the other side of the street that bore the name “Synthesia”.

Computer-generated music played from the inside, and a line of people had formed in front of one of the two entrances. Wearing flashy or revealing clothes, they waited for the bouncer’s permission to enter the club. Through the other door, gamblers entered and left the building like there was no tomorrow. While the men had exchanged the anti-authoritative black leather for shirts and tuxedos, the women’s dresses showed as much skin as the dancers’ attires.

Altera looked down at her clothes and pressed her arms against her chest, a red flush spread across her face.

She wore a white satin dress that split open from her navel and barely managed to wrap around her breasts, revealing an ample amount of skin and cleavage. If she had to describe it, she would call it the unholy child between a wedding dress and a leotard. And while stockings and gloves covered her arms and legs, the semi-transparent cloth didn’t hide her body beneath them. The same applied to the train that followed her dress. Under the right light, the public could see her butt.

A problem, that Eric didn’t have to deal with thanks to his night-blue tuxedo. She understood that one shouldn’t enter a casino in street clothes. But while a tuxedo sufficed for men to look classy, why did women have to look sexy? Were they supposed to entice men and please their eyes?

Altera’s shoulders dropped.

There was no point in complaining. Hardships and trials appeared in countless forms, and as a future Valkyrie, she would endure this embarrassment. She had known what would await her when she entered Heorot, the city of sin.

Here, every building from hair salons to banks served as a gambling dens. Once she had finished her business, she would go to church and cleanse herself of the vice.

If nothing else, the dress had caught Ragna’s attention and kept her eyes off other women. Not that she cared. Ragna could appreciate the appearance of anyone she wanted. It didn’t matter that none of them could outshine her beauty, and thus, logically, she should look at her the most.

Not in the slightest.

And that her dress enhanced her beauty and charm shouldn’t matter either. She was above such shallowness. It served the greater good as it kept Ragna from bothering other women. She could deal with the attention if Ragna only looked at her. Yes, yes, yes.

Altera folded her hand to a fist and held it in front of her chest. The flush disappeared, determination solidifying her facial expressions.

Her dress upheld public morals, as not every girl could deal with Ragna’s character. So, for the betterment of the world, Ragna shouldn’t pay attention to any woman but her.

Her finger brushed over the embroidery whose vine and roses pattern decorated her gloves. Like a layer of snow, the fabric tickled her skin. For a moment, she might have sworn that it had disappeared.

While she needed to find out how Jareth could know her measurements, the dress proved his skill as a couturier. Within hours, he had managed to create their outfits. Though, from where did he get the material? Well, she could worry about that later. She had to concentrate on her current objective.

“I thought we would go to dens with low entrée fees,” Altera looked at the Synthesia’s façade. “Isn’t this one of the most expensive quarters?”

“That was before you got us lost,” Eric spoke bluntly. “And honestly, if we don’t start betting big, we’ll be here until we’re gray.”

Altera sighed. “Fine.”

Without looking at Eric, she crossed the street towards the Synthesia. Roses grew at the street’s border, covering the asphalt with their flame-like patterns. The bouncer shifted his head as she passed him and lifted his sunglasses. Four pupils glanced at her before his attention returned towards the line.

Altera suppressed her urge to cringe and increased her pace. She still had to get used to the sight of the mutations, even if they weren’t common. As the city closest to the Lost City, it suffered from the Mana Bomb’s fallout, as well.

Thanks to the corruption of Mana the bomb had unleashed, the winds would carry said corrupted Mana and infect humans. The effects could range from deformations, Mana-Suicide, loss of sanity, or even cases of the ash pest. And sometimes, abominations from Hy-Bres, the island the Mana Bomb had created, would break through the protective shields and attack Heorot.

Those, who lived in Heorot, had been aware of their mortality for a thousand years. And so, they lived following their desires. Gambling, fornication, drinking, smoking – the list could go on. Heorot allowed one to make a fortune and indulge in the material and carnal pleasures of the world without restraint.

The prospect of fortune and freedom had lured the moths towards the flames, and they accepted the possibility of burning their wings away. Heorot became a city where gambling and other vices were one of the main incomes. In this insanity, one had to remember death to pluck the day for one only lived once, and every day could be the last. Thus, Heorot – the City of Sin – had come into existence in the wake of the Great War.

Altera stopped in front of the second door and took a deep breath.

Even if she didn’t belong to this world, she had to enter it. Her reluctance wouldn’t bring her Bragi to an end.

She closed her eyes, and Moon Moon’s presence flashed inside her soul. His Mana pulsated with all vigor wherever the nether wolf was playing.

She had long given up on monitoring him. The little mutt switched between the human world and the Mana Realm more often than her brother took a cigarette. As long as she could feel his Mana, she would know that he wasn’t in danger.

The automatic door opened, and Altera walked through it. Four bridges connected to the outlines of a square and left a hole in its center from where the music reached her ears. A staircase led to the higher levels. Unlike the illumination on the ground floor, muted colors painted the cellar’s walls and hued the clubgoers in a neon rainbow. They hopped and danced to the DJ’s tunes.

Was this what people did when they went to the club? What was so great about that? Maybe she should ask Ragna? When they still had been at the academy, she had been partying every second weekend and at times talked about her escapades. Or perhaps she shouldn’t. Ragna might make fun of her inexperience. Predicting Ragna was a hassle. Sometimes, she could be the sweetest girl she had ever met, and sometimes, she was some agent of chaos who loved to tease people. She had to accept both sides, but that didn’t change that she preferred one Ragna over the other.

“Do you wanna photosynthesize, or why are you standing here like a tree?”

Altea blinked at Eric with a weak smile. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about Ragna.”

Eric grimaced for a second. “What else is new?” His voice contained more spite than he had intended, and Eric seemed to have realized that as well since a moment later, his face and tone softened. “Eh, we should be looking for a table to gamble.”

Barely noticeable, Altera nodded and showed him her back.

Could she blame Eric after what she had done to him in the tower? He had every right to hate her. Even if the trials and her bipolar disorder had stirred up their emotions, it didn’t change that they both had laid their feelings bare. Their words contained what both of them felt for some time without anything restraining their thoughts. And it didn’t change that Eric’s words were the truth. Him learning about her bipolar disorder might have mitigated the situation, but it didn’t eliminate his slight. Right now, they could work together as colleagues and considered each other friends, but how would that develop in the future? How could she patch things up between them? She wasn’t good with stuff like this, but now, she had to concentrate on getting enough Honey for the tickets to Avalon.

Altera’s eyes wandered across the bridges that were wide enough that each of them functioned as a bar and a path to reach the corners. On every corner, the hosts had set up a table around which an audience had formed a half circle and watched patrons gamble against the house. Those who weren’t watching or playing sat on the barstools and numbed their brains with alcohol.

A second time, her eyes circled over the ground floor and stopped at the corner to her right. Compared to the other tables, the largest audience had gathered here. The people were cheering at every turn, clapping their hands, or raising their drinks. Even from her distance, the joy and ecstasy that had latched onto their grins swamped over towards her.

“I think I know where to play,” she said to herself and walked towards her target.

In this city of sin, greed and vainglory controlled the hearts of the people. In the face of death, nothing mattered but the instant satisfaction of one’s desires. A large audience gathering in front of the table meant that the chance of winning was high. While else would they bother?

She squeezed through the masses and lay her eyes on the match.

The dealer – a young woman with an ash-blonde pixie cut wearing a black vest and a white high-collared shirt – picked a card from the deck, and the gambler tapped his finger against his coins. She lay the card on the table, next to a “Seven”, a “Four”, and a “Three.”

“Eight,” the dealer said. “You’re out.”

The audience cheered, the dealer took the chips, and the gambler left the table.

Altera smiled.

Oh, they were playing Blackjack. Even she knew the rules for that one.

“Who wants to try their luck next?”

Laughter and whispers scattered across the corner. Glasses clinked against each other as the audience echoed the dealer’s call, but no one stepped forward.

Altera glanced at the dealer shuffling her deck.

Why was no one trying their luck? Had the loss of the gambler scared them?

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

Altera stepped forward, mustering up as much confidence as she could, and sat on the empty.

“What’s your name, darling?” The dealer smiled. “You look familiar. Have we met before?” Her tone was full of fake pleasantries, but no one seemed to care. For the audience, it was all part of the show.

Ragna once had told her about the cries of seagulls at the harbor. Even if the birds annoyed the people, one expected their noise to fill the scenery and would be disappointed if it had disappeared.

“You would be surprised how often I hear that.” Altera returned the smile. “I’m Altera, by the way.”

It’s been a week since they had entered Heorot, and she had let Eric and Ragna gamble out of fear that her bipolar disorder could interfere. But her manic phase was winding down, and she had to put her weight into the mission. She had already strained her relationship with Eric, so she shouldn’t give the impression that they did all the work. And if they wanted to arrive in Avalon while Drake Griffin was still there, they had to take higher risks.

The dealer eyed Altera for a second and started to shuffle the deck. “It would be stupid to enter the game otherwise, but just to be sure: Do you know the rules for Blackjack?”

“I do.” Altera nodded. “But I always forget the terminology. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Actually, it is. But I would feel even worse for sending such an adorable face away without giving her a chance. Especially if it’s her wedding day.”

Altera let out a fake chuckle. “It’s not. I just want to enjoy my time and win prizes.”

“Oh. Don’t tell me you’re looking for someone to take you as a bride? While life can be a gamble, I’m not sure a casino is the right place to search. And just to be clear, while your face’s quite delicious, I’m already spoken for and won’t be swayed by any charms.” The dealer winked and snapped her finger. “Anyway. Please, show me your card.”

Altera nodded and put her card on the table. Electric grid patterns extended from the plastic, and on Altera’s side, a blue number appeared to indicate how much Honey she had on her account.

“With this, we can start, don’t you think so, too?” The dealer smiled and put the deck down on the table. “The starting bid will be thousand-fivehundred Honey. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“Of course not.” Altera smiled.

The game had started. Altera couldn’t back down anymore, but that wouldn’t stop her. Uncertainty and doubts couldn’t cloud her mind. She had to believe in herself that she could win the game and proof that she didn’t hold her teammates back.