Zander Nenmos was alone in his office, which was located within the Diamond Pillar. The shades were mostly closed, only letting a sliver of the outside lighting. The grey-lit room was carefully decorated with various papers and documents. The furniture was sparse and grey, emphasizing the dull nature of the room.

He was sitting at his desk, head buried in his hands. The paper he had been writing on was only half-inked. He sat there, still, for many minutes. The time around him seemed to drag on, dredging itself of the wonderful waters of life, leaving behind emptiness.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Zander finally stood up out of his chair. He grabbed his ring of keys from his drawer and began to walk towards the back. As he approached the locked door, he stopped for a second. He nodded to himself and began to unlock the door.

He then made his way down the damp, stone stairs that were just beyond the other side of the door. His footsteps echoed with every step, reverberating off of the stone walls. It took about a minute, but he eventually made his way to the bottom.

Instinctually, Zander flicked the light switch to his left. The hallway before him was then dimly lit, not unlike the office he had just come from. Lining the single, narrow hallway, were evenly spaced iron doors.

As he passed each door, he silently counted in his head. One...three...four...eight...thirteen...

He continued that until he finally reached the end of the hall. Turning back, he took a deep breath and reassured himself that it was all going to be worth it.

Just a few more days, he thought, and it’ll be over. I just have to keep this up for a few more days.

He then proceeded to make his way back to his office, locking the storage door behind him. Just as he was gathering his stuff and was about to make his way back to his hotel room, his office phone began to ring.

This is a bit soon, I expected to take this in my room.

He then picked up the phone and answered it. “Yes?” he asked.

An accented voice on the other end replied, “Estne dominus?”

“Ah,” Zander recognized, “this is Domini. What can I do for you?”

“The meeting—you said that everything would be ready by this week. Is everything in order?” The voice on the other end was quite firm and persistent.

“Of course. I was actually just about to give you a call once I made it back to my home.” Zander licked his lips a bit. “So I presume you’re still interested in what I have to offer, hmm?”

There was a bit of a pause. “Yes, but I’ll have you know that I am not interested in playing the dumb games that the rest of them play. I just want this transaction to be clean, quick, and efficient.”

Zander couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect,” he replied, “I had the exact same mindset. How about this? Let’s schedule the meeting for the afternoon of this coming Sunday. Seeing as it’s Monday at the current moment, I think that is just enough time for us to finalize our assets, while also being short enough so that we can get this done and over with.”

There was another pause.

“That will do,” the voice flatly answered. “The same location, as always?”

“Of course,” Zander answered, “that’s what I was planning on.”

***

“I just don't get it,” Eliot exhaustingly stated. He was currently walking down Memorial Way—which was a hallway in the Diamond Pillar that led to one of its elevators—carrying a couple of keys in his hands.

Fang, who was walking with him, turned and replied, “Yeah, it’s a bit strange. I don’t really get it either.”

“Right!?” Eliot enthusiastically replied. “Why can’t we just take all of the keys now and get them done? And why do we have to go to a different smith each day?”

They then approached the elevator.

“It does seem a bit like a waste of time,” Fang agreed, pressing the call button.

“I’m sure Zander has his reasons, though.”

DING DONG

The elevator doors opened. They both stepped inside, and it was surprisingly empty, although they shouldn't have been too surprised, seeing as they were told to specifically use that elevator because nobody else used it.

Eliot pressed the gold button and Fang started to stare off towards the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.

“Anyway,” Eliot began, “thanks for actually helping us with this whole plan, Fang. I’m glad you’re here.”

“It’s no problem,” they absentmindedly replied, their eyes still focused on something far away.

“By the way, why are you helping us?”

“For Vincent.”

“What do you mean?”

Fang then snapped to attention, immediately turning their head towards Eliot. Their eyes suddenly widened before shrinking back as they coughed. They shook their head and replied, “Well, uh, because he, uh, was kind enough to get me out of the Collider along with you and him. The least I can do is help him with this.”

“Ah,” Eliot understood, “that makes sense.”

There was a bit of silent pause, with the most noticeable sound being that of the mechanics of the elevator at work. Like an open desert, the air was stale and stagnant. It was a few seconds before either one of them spoke up.

Finally, Fang asked, “So what made you become friends with Vincent? What is he like, from your perspective?”

Eliot cocked his head and gave Fang a confused, but genuine smile. “I’m not really sure, if I’m being honest,” he answered. “That was such a long time ago.” He looked down and thought for a few moments before looking back up. “I guess his brashness and ability to not really care about what others think is what drew me to him.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well,” Eliot awkwardly laughed, “I’m not exactly the most ‘out there’ person. And especially so back when we were really young. I can actually remember the first time I talked to him. When we were in first grade or so, I tried to hang out with the popular kids—who all played sports—and I would tell them that I like sports too, just so that they would hang out with me. Then, one day, they found out that I didn’t know how to play basketball and that I had been lying to them”

Eliot nostalgically sighed. “And so they beat me up.”

“Oh really?” Fang asked.

“Yeah,” Eliot replied, blushing. “But as they were kicking me and whatnot, Vincent came over and slugged each and every one of them, causing them to run away, crying.”

“Oh, so he saved you from those bullies. How heroic.”

“Well...not exactly. When I thanked him for saving me, he looked back at me—and I’ll never forget this—and said ‘I wasn’t tryin’ to save you, I just wanted an excuse to beat up those jerks.’”

Eliot chuckled to himself. “I guess it was his brutal honesty that really made me follow him. And follow him I did. I guess he never really cared if someone followed him around and talked to him. And somehow, through the many years of me being around him and talking to him, we eventually became best friends.”

“That’s interesting,” Fang noted. “So does that view of him still carry on to this day?”

Eliot took a quick pause. “I would say so, yeah, but it’s much deeper now.”

“How so? Like, how do you see him now?

“Oh, he’s still a wild child,” he smiled, “but not an unreasonable one. He used to be borderline crazy, but now he’s funneled that into just being a bit rebellious. I also think that he’s someone who sometimes cares a lot about things that don’t really matter and then will just pass by something obviously wrong with complete indifference.”

“That’s fascinating,” Fang commented.

“Yeah, but he’s been doing better,” Eliot commented. “You know, it’s hard for him to care about things that don’t interest him when, for the longest time, he never had anyone that consistently cared about him. He’s just a lost kid, trying to find himself and his purpose in the world. The problem is that whenever he wants to do something, it seems like the world just won’t let him.”

Eliot then nodded, as if he was agreeing with what he was about to say. “I suppose that’s why he’s become so headstrong and independent. You have to be if you face as many hurdles as he does.”

Fang just stared at Eliot, seemingly taking in everything they were told. After a few seconds, they asked, “Do you think that’s why Vincent was so insistent on blindly traveling the world to find the obelisks?”

“Huh,” Eliot replied, contemplating the question. “I guess so. Yeah, that’s probably right. That’s probably why he feels so strongly about everything that’s going on here. He probably feels that he has a purpose for once in his life.”

DING DONG

The elevator doors opened.

***

Bored out of his mind, Vincent continued to mosey around the Diamond Pillar. None of the fancy, glass architecture even remotely excited him, and every place he visited was filled with snobby jerks.

After walking out of another gambling room, something finally caught his attention. It wasn’t much, but it was at least something new. Towards the other end of the huge room he was in, was some scaffolding. It seemed like part of the room was under construction.

As he approached it, he saw that there were dozens of people working on the scaffolding. Many of them were carrying various materials and tools, and others were using those materials and tools to fix whatever they were working on.

The thing that made him take another quick double-take was how there was no safety equipment anywhere in sight. Those laborers were on the top ends of the scaffolding, wearing nothing but the clothes on their backs. And even then, some of them didn’t have shirts on.

When he got close enough, Vincent heard a familiar voice call out, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Turning to look in the direction of the voice, Vincent glanced up to the second story of the scaffolding—which towered a few more stories past that—and saw a tanned and sweating female. She had her hair tied up in a bun, showing how the sides of her head were buzzed. Her muscles were defined and rugged, further emphasized by the glistening sweat all over her body. She was wearing tight shorts and a sports bra, which allowed her the maximum amount of mobility.

Vincent smiled and replied, “Woah, Marezi, what the hell are you doing here?”

She tossed one of the other workers that were near her the hammer that she was holding and jumped straight down. She impacted the ground with a thud, but her demeanor remained casual, as if a drop from that height was nothing for her.

“Don’t answer my question with the same damn question, dumbass,” she firmly stated, although there was a bit of lightness to her attitude, as opposed to every other time they had ever spoken.

“Honestly,” Vincent answered, “I’m just bored as hell. I’m supposed to just sit tight for a while and not do anything, but it’s just soooooo boring.”

“I see,” Marezi answered. “That still doesn’t answer why you’re in the Diamond Pillar, of all places. I’m here because my asshat-of-a-sponsor makes me help out the Dawn Patrol with construction projects when there aren’t any major tournaments.”

“Oh, I see. I’m here to try a rec—” he hesitated. For once in his life, he began to think before he spoke.

Hmmmm, he thought, should I tell her? It might be a bad idea to tell people, ‘cause that would ruin the whole plan.

He then pondered a bit further before saying out loud, “Nahhh, it'll be fine. We could use the help.” He then turned back to her and said, “I’m tryin’ to put a rebellion together and take out Lucretia. You in?”

Marezi’s mouth hung slightly open. No words, just stares. After a few seconds, she sighed and shook her head. “Of course you are,” she said.

“What?”

She then looked around and confirmed that there was no other person anywhere near them. “You can’t just say shit like that, you know,” she pointed out. “Besides, no one will just follow you towards something that’ll never work.”

“Why not?” Vincent adamantly replied. “I’m the Collider’s champion and I’ve shown people that anyone can do anything and make a change. People followed you and respected you when you were the champ, so why wouldn’t they follow me?

“Change doesn’t work like that, especially not here” she firmly responded. “Change doesn’t happen so quickly. It takes time, momentum, and luck—none of which can be gotten here.”

Vincent furled his eyebrows in a pouty sort of way and said, “Well, we’ll see about that.”

“Listen,” Marezi started to say, now beginning to make her way back up the scaffolding, “I won’t tell anyone what you just told me, but in return, just don’t be any more of an idiot.”

Deflated, Vincent quietly said, “Fine.”

Just as he turned around and was about to walk away, he heard Marezi shout, “Good luck, though!”

He paused, but didn’t turn around to reply, he just kept grumpily walking forward. He continued to walk in an abstract direction, not really caring where he ended up. He was too busy pouting to notice that he ended up at a weird-looking table.

The moment he collided with the table, he snapped out of his inner temper-tantrum. Looking at the table, he saw that there were a bunch of numbered squares encased within a 6-inch wall that surrounded the perimeter. Unlike any other game that he’s seen, the walls of the game were constructed in bizarre ways, with random turns and angles. There was no definite shape to the walls, but it did catch Vincent’s interest.

He noticed that there was also no one around the table, besides a worker who was leaning over what seemed to be a pile of marbles.

“Yo,” Vincent started to say, looking at the worker, “what’s this thing?”

“Oh,” the worker jumped, “my apologies, I did not see you. This,” they gestured at the game, “is Rolldago.”

“I’ve never heard of it, but it seems interestin’. How do you play?”

The worker looked at him for a second with a curious glance and then answered, “I suppose it’s not uncommon for some people to have never heard of this game—usually the only people that play are extremely high-rollers.”

“I don’t get it. What do you mean?”

The worker then grabbed a couple of marbles and stated, “I’ll show you.” They held up one of their marbles and rolled it inside of the walls. The marble bounced off of a couple of walls, before finally settling down. It happened to stop moving over a square that had a 5 written on it.

“The point of this game,” the worker began to explain, “is to try and land on one of the spaces that have a positive number on it. That number represents how much money you win, in the form of gold coins. In my case, I would’ve landed on the five gold coin space.”

Vincent nodded his head in understanding. He then examined the rest of the spaces and saw that there were some that had negative numbers on them. “And what about those spaces?”

“Ah, very perceptive,” the worker noted. “If you land on those spaces, then you owe the casino money. Risk and reward.”

“Gotcha. But what makes it a high-roller game? Just seems like a weird version of roulette.”

The worker smiled. “That would be the ricochet bonus.”

“Ricochet bonus?”

“That’s what makes this game sooooo much fun...and dangerous.” They then reached in and grabbed their marble. “You see, while landing on a space gives you that amount of money, if you really wanted to win the big bucks, you would try and ricochet off of as many walls as possible.”

“Why’s that?”

“For each wall you hit, you increase your multiplier. For example, if you hit one wall, you get whatever you landed on times one. If you bounce off of two walls, then you multiply it by two, and so on.”

“And if I hit no walls?”

“Then you get nothing.”

Huh, Vincent thought to himself. Seems like a fun way to pass the time.

“I wanna play,” he announced.

The worker then reached an arm out towards Vincent, holding a black marble. “Then go right ahead.”

Vincent took the marble, cracked his neck, and rolled it into the game. He didn’t hold back and let it fly. After all, if he was going to play a game, he was going to go all in.

The marble bounced off of the wall 5 separate times, each time at an angle that didn't seem physically possible. Every time he would try and guess what path the ball would take, he wouldn’t even get close.

Eventually, the marble slowed down and landed on a fairly unique space. As opposed to the numbered squares that made up most of the board, the space that his black marble rolled on was a small, black circle that was pretty much in the middle of the board.

“What does this mean?” Vincent asked. “I don’t see a number on it.”

The worker was still looking down at the marble with a slightly surprised and confused look to their face. They then slowly turned their attention to the digital sign that was near the table. The sign read Jackpot and the number displayed was 126,398.

Turning back towards Vincent, the worker couldn’t help but crack a smile as they replied, “Well, uh, my good sir, it appears that you have won the jackpot. Congratulations.”

The moment they said that, an alarm-like noise sounded out of that jackpot sign and its many lights flashed in a dazzling display. All of the people who were in the vicinity—and even people on the other side of the room—turned and looked at the commotion.

“Damn, I’m good at this game,” Vincent proudly stated.

“Well, sir, I think the more—”

“Let’s keep the good luck going!” Vincent interrupted. “I wanna keep playing!”

“If you insist,” the worker said.

Vincent continued to play Rollago for the next few hours. Slowly, over that span of time, a small crowd gathered and just watched him play. Through the losses and wins, the crowd was fairly silent. Occasionally, a few of them would cheer for his victories, and a few more would sigh when at his losses.

At the end of his time, Vincent managed to come out with a little over 500,00 more gold coins than what he started with. When he felt like he had played enough, he looked over at the worker and said, “Whelp, I think that’s enough for today.” He then began to walk away.

“Sir, wait!” the worker called out.

Vincent turned around and asked, “What?”

“You still need to cash out your prize money,” the worker explained.

“Oh, right. How do I do that?”

The worker motioned toward a card-sized slot in the table, right below a display screen that was embedded in the table. “Insert your Sun Card in this, and I will handle the rest.”

“Sun card?” Vincent asked. “Oh, do you mean this?”

He pulled out the card that Zander had given each of them.

“Precisely,” the worker confirmed.

Vincent inserted his card, and the display screen showed his total balance on the card, which Vincent didn’t know until that point, and it showed the worker adding all of his winnings onto the card. The moment that the transaction was completed, Vincent took his card out and put it in his pocket.

“I think I’ll come back and play this some more, tomorrow,” he excitedly stated.

“You’re more than welcome to, however,” the worker began to reply, “we are expecting, uh, a rather large spender to be at the table.”

“So?”

The worker swallowed. “Well, they aren’t just any big spender...they are a Diadem.”

Vincent felt a spark of an idea flash across his mind. He couldn’t tell whether it was a good one or not, but that didn’t really matter. He just smiled and replied, “Even better.”

And with that, Vincent retired to his room for the night—thus ending the first day.