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Chapter 41
🕑 Added 2025-11-01 21:01:23 +0000 UTCWoops! I totally spaced yesterday on posting -- I got sucked into editing.
Here is chapter 41 and we'll resume as normal on Monday!
Chapter 41 - The Offer
Gambler’s Casino
Finn
Rachael had always hated these places. Casinos, that is.
They were dark, loud, and dirty, with an air that seemed to vibrate with something corrupt. Maybe it was the excessive opulence—like trying to hide rotting floorboards beneath a fresh coat of paint. Or the shiny crystal chandeliers that aimed to distract from the tarnished white marble, the blood-red velvet carpeting parting the stone like a red river.
It might have even been the constant noise that overwhelmed the senses. The sound of dice clicking against tables, the ringing and chiming of slot machines, and the distant cheers echoing from the many screens surrounding the casino, showing the Death Ball arena at the Mile High Club. The casino thrived on this controlled chaos, making money from the suffering it caused.
Finn rolled a golden casino chip across his knuckles, the edges melting slightly as flames licked at the metal. He couldn’t help himself—Haste channeled subconsciously through his fingertips, time slowing just enough to watch the molten gold cool and harden with each pass. The coin had been their ticket into this so-called casino, handed over by a messenger after their arena victory... and a few “follow-up massacres.”
It turned out the “Major Leagues” weren’t much of a challenge either. Go figure.
His enhanced sight revealed the truth of their surroundings. Beneath the slimy veneer of capitalism, the Gambler’s Casino existed in its own bubble of compressed air mana, walls that curved impossibly inward, suggesting infinite space contained within finite boundaries. A pocket dimension or instance was Finn’s best guess.
Daniel hovered at his shoulder, strangely quiet as he processed and stored the data fed from his Mana Sight. He wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to gain more information. Death and Taxes rarely invited other travelers to the true club.
Which meant that they were getting nervous. Good.
The goblins and other travelers kept a wary eye on both him and Eliza—the pair tucked away in a quiet alcove. Yellow-eyed engineers who peered at them over arcane abacuses, meticulously calculating the odds of each game. Brawny goblin warriors who heaved at the slot machines and dented the metal. Travelers that positioned themselves facing the pair... and the exit.
They tried to hide it, but Finn could see the fluctuations in their mana.
Yet his eyes kept returning to a VIP suite along the far end of the room. It was roped off and ringed with brawny goblin guards. Nothing strange about that. Or those doors. At least, not on the surface. Except they weren’t made of wood at all. They practically burned with mana, the energy saturating every inch and extending deep into the walls. The real question was whether they were trying to keep something inside... or prevent it from escaping.
As Finn focused on that barrier, his sight burrowed deeper, trying to peel back the many, many layers of interference. And when he finally? Oppressive mana flared bright enough to make him wince. Multiple deity-level signatures were contained within. Which explained why the other casino patrons unconsciously avoided that area, and conversations quieted when they glanced toward the room. Even approaching casually drew threatening glares from the guards.
Fascinating. Another data point to log.
“Are you okay?” Eliza asked, her voice cutting through his observations. “You’ve been quiet ever since we got here.”
“An excellent question,” a second voice purred.
Finn turned abruptly to find the Seer sitting beside them. The goddess looked just as he remembered. Olive skin, covered in purple silks that left only her eyes visible, flames flickering within her irises. A black python twined around her neck and shoulders, its tongue flicking at the air. Her presence radiated—not heat, not exactly. Yet something powerful.
He kept his expression carefully neutral, glancing discreetly at Eliza. She couldn’t see his eyes with the bandage that wrapped his face, but the water mage had gotten remarkably perceptive at picking up on his body language. A function of killing beside each other for days.
“Eliza can’t see or hear me,” the Seer said, nodding toward the VIP suite. “I have been... otherwise detained. I took the opportunity to slip away when I sensed your presence.”
Finn’s enhanced sight focused on those warded doors again. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he was able to filter the energy blazing inside until only the red-orange flames remained. This woman—this incarnation—sitting beside him was merely a vessel. A pale imitation of the inferno that blazed inside that suite.
Daniel pulsed anxiously, reminding him that Eliza was still watching; concern still crinkling her brow. He had questions, but he would need to choose his words carefully.
“We had a deal,” Finn began slowly, addressing them both. He met Eliza’s eyes. “Me and my goddess, I mean.”
“We did, but I upheld my end,” the Seer answered, laying down the first tarot card on the coffee table with fluid precision. The image depicted a man walking off a cliff. The Fool, reversed.
Finn tried not to read into it. Rachael had always loved Tarot—even though it was just nonsense. Much like AI, it didn’t tell you the ‘truth,’ it just reflected what you wanted to hear. A mirror made of cards. Yet even that errant thought made his hand burn brighter. The coin moved a hair faster, melting just a bit too quickly to reform.
“What deal?” Eliza asked, cocking her head and keeping her voice low.
Finn grimaced. The Seer’s knowing chuckle wasn’t helping with the fire that still burned in his chest. Without the arena—without that sand, blood, and battle—to distract him, it blazed.
“She offered me a way to bring Rachael back,” he grunted, glaring at the goddess, the molten metal that had replaced his eyes smoldering. “Sandscrit. The mana well. They offered a way to bring her back as a fire elemental.”
“However, I never said you would get to keep any of it...” the goddess clarified.
His fingers curled into a fist, the coin melting faster under the force of his fire. He didn’t even feel it, not with the way he’d replaced the skin of that hand with crystal neurogem.
He’d paid his price. His eyes. His hand. His sanity. And yet...
“And you’re angry with her?” Eliza asked carefully.
“A fantastic question. One we should ask the cards,” the Seer offered, shuffling her deck. “Are you angry with me, yourself, or... perhaps someone else?”
He’d been grappling with that same damn question since he’d left the arena.
“I keep thinking I’m close,” he muttered. “That I’m finally nearing the finish line, only for it to get stolen away. At first, I thought the anger was at others. Jason for blowing up my damn city. Smiles for kidnapping us all. Gloria for the Reckoning. You for losing the data,” he acknowledged reluctantly, the girl’s gaze dropping to the floor.
“But that isn’t the truth, is it?” he asked, staring the Seer in the eye.
She laid down a second card. The Lovers, reversed.
Like she knew. Like she was reading his damn mind.
Not prophecy, just a parlor trick. And yet... no less true.
“I’m—I’m mad at... at Rachael,” he said finally.
He scoffed, huffing out a breath. “Fucking idiot,” he murmured under his breath.
Eliza’s widened in surprise, darting back to his face. “Why Rachael?”
Finn paused, gathering thoughts that had been smoldering for weeks, his eyes seeing the past as clearly as he could see the mana coiling through this room. “They never cover this in the books and articles and interviews. They call me the “Father of AI,” but none of them knew that she tried her best to abort that baby,” he offered with a grim chuckle.
“She told me to quit AI research. Not the self-driving cars,” he added quickly. “I mean my original research, what earned me that damn title. I was... obsessed. I know, a shock, right?”
He looked at the flames dancing across his crystal fingers, that coin a blur again. “Rachael always said my worst quality was also my best—I never gave up. Ever.”
Eliza and the Seer remained quiet, just watching.
“My first breakthrough was AI interpretability,” Finn continued, lost in the memory. “I solved it, strangely enough, by jailbreaking every LLM in existence. I’d always been better at talking to machines than people, and, once they could talk back, I dove in headfirst.”
He huffed out a bitter laugh. “Even in the beginning, I always built by destroying things.” He stared at the fire coating his crystalline hand.
“From there... it just snowballed. That research eventually became the template for creating higher-order self-reflection, or, at least, the illusion of it.”
He looked at the AI hovering at his shoulder, his expression warring between tenderness and skepticism. “Daniel was actually the first. He should probably be in a museum.”
The elemental just pulsed softly in acknowledgment. “I’m not dead yet, and neither are you,” he quipped. “Although you’re arguably closer.”
“I, uh, I never knew,” Eliza murmured, staring at Daniel with newfound appreciation.
“That I’m this awesome?” Daniel offered, a hint of pride in his voice.
Eliza’s smile faltered as she saw Finn’s sour expression.
“So, Rachael working with George… that must have stung?” she began tentatively.
“What was she thinking?” he muttered. “All of those lectures about the harms to society: unemployment, union busting, social isolation, increased political polarization, the ads, the copyright infringement, the climate impacts from massive data centers. She was worried about all of that, but then she went and made something even worse? Something terrifying?
“Then she just fucking left me?”
It wasn’t fair—neither his argument nor her secrets.
It’s not like Rachael had chosen to die. Yet that just made him even angrier…
Eliza’s expression softened, a mix of sympathy and understanding. “I’m so sorry, Finn—”
Before she could finish, footsteps approached their quiet sitting area. Daniel pushed information to Finn’s UI as he matched familiar mana signatures. Finn sat up straight, bracing himself, that coin’s movement stilling. Fucking finally… something to fight; something to do.
Three figures approached, each wearing the distinctive white masks that marked them as members of <Death and Taxes>. That iconic bloody smiley face.
Blaze led the group—an elderly fire mage whose mask bore flame decorations around the grim smile. She carried herself with authority, dressed in business formal with flame-resistant materials. A stark contrast to Bard’s ensemble. All skintight leather and bright colors, as if he were begging his enemies to target him. Tombs brought up the rear—the earth mage engineer who’d helped refurbish the Mile High Club’s aging infrastructure. His mask displayed tombstone decorations, and he wore a utility vest filled with engineering tools. He seemed exhausted, dragging his feet and collapsing on a nearby sofa with a sigh of relief.
“Congratulations on your victory,” Blaze said without warmth. “Though we invited you here to discuss the consequences.”
“Consequences?” Finn echoed, raising an eyebrow. “From where I’m sitting, we’re winning. Or are you implying that this place isn’t the fair and level playing field you advertise?”
“I think you mean ruining my precious arena!” Bard crowed, slumping down onto a couch and kicking his feet up on the small coffee table between them, just barely missing the Seer’s cards, the goddess smiling in amusement. “No one comes to my shows anymore. They just want to see you two murder noobs! The arena isn’t about murder—well, not just about murder. It’s about me!”
Blaze heaved out a sigh, and Tombs looked pained.
“I’m not sure I see the problem either,” Eliza spoke up, her voice ice cold, any trace of empathy devoured by the mold that coiled beneath her skin. “But I’d be happy to make one.”
“No need for that. What Bard means is that you’re impacting the club’s profits,” Blaze corrected her companion, glaring at the would-be rockstar. “While player attendance at your matches is high, participation in the games has dropped... precipitously. Even our major league members have begun boycotting the matches to avoid you two,” she continued with a sigh, rubbing at her temple. “Which probably wasn’t helped by Bard blackmailing a bunch of them.”
This earned the man another glare, but he seemed oblivious, inspecting his nails.
“Worse, betting markets have been destabilized by the rather predictable outcome of each match,” Blaze grunted, waving a hand to bring up a screen showing the odds. “No one wants to bet against you. In short, the problem is that you’re winning too much. It’s bad for business.”
“Color me shocked, a casino complaining about the house losing,” Finn offered dryly. “Is this all you have? Your imaginary game money drying up?”
Bard was about to shout at them again, but Blaze’s eyes glowed red hot. “Huh. What did I tell you before the meeting?”
Even the wannabe minstrel looked worried by the flames radiating away from her. Finn was impressed. She was putting off a lot of heat. Even her clothes were beginning to singe at the corners. He wondered if she’d improved since their last confrontation.
“That I can participate if I don’t interrupt… or blackmail people,” Bard muttered.
“Exactly,” Blaze snapped, then she gestured at Tombs. “Your turn.”
The earth mage sighed, knotting his hands together. “That last match also badly damaged the Mile High Club, as I’m sure you’re aware,” he said, keeping his voice low and eyeing the other patrons nervously. “You nearly severed the air mana conduits that power the club and keep it afloat. Maybe you could tell me how to repair it so it doesn’t fall out of the—”
“I’m still not hearing how any of this is our problem,” Eliza interjected dismissively. “Finn’s right. This is just a game. Why do you care?”
“Is it?” Blaze challenged, her eyes living up to her namesake once more. “Some of us don’t rely on mommy and daddy to pay our bills and didn’t manage to make an obscene fortune by stealing the livelihoods of authors, artists, and other professionals,” she added for Finn’s benefit. “Believe it or not, real money depends on the arena’s stability. Sponsorships, gambling, influence networks—lives and livelihoods are affected well beyond the game world.”
Finn’s brow furrowed. Were they really that well-connected? Just how much money could they possibly be making from this game?
The Seer, still invisible to the others, laid down another card. The Tower. It reflected a giant structure looming over a crowd. Clearly an allusion to the arena, but the connection didn’t feel complete. Finn still didn’t believe in this nonsense, but... it almost felt like the goddess was hinting at something.
His enhanced sight took in the trio from <Death and Taxes>. The small micro fluctuations in their mana suggested they weren’t lying. If anything, it was like they were… reluctant? Almost like they were being pressured to have this meeting. Which implied there was something at stake here besides money, or that they needed that money to accomplish.
“Well, even if that’s true, you know how to end this,” Eliza said, her eyes glowing sapphire. “Just let us talk to Smiles and we’ll be on our way.”
“About what?” Bard chirped sweetly, leaning forward, his chin on his palms.
Eliza hesitated, and Finn stayed quiet. There was a zero percent chance they were going to tell these three about the break-in at Cerillion Entertainment. Sure, they suspected Smiles, and this group might have been involved. But the moment they said something, they tipped their hand. Bard was calling their bluff, his confidence a stark contrast to the humility he’d shown to his teammates. Which implied what? That he knew something?
Finn watched their mana signatures carefully, but they barely fluctuated. Only Tombs swallowed hard, a faint note of anxiety giving him away.
“Secrets, huh? I get it. However, we can’t just let anyone speak with the big man. That would ruin our reputation,” Bard continued with a flippant shrug. “We have a brand to maintain. Which means keeping our word. Our mystique.”
Eliza was about to reply, but the wannabe bard cut her off, “However, we have a solution that may satisfy both parties. Skip the grind, go straight to the top, and face us in a championship match. Just you two versus our entire team. Heavily advertised, broadcast, and promoted, of course... and assuming the club stays afloat.”
He shrugged. “Not that I’m worried. Tombs has that handled.”
Tombs’ face sank into his hands, while Blaze struggled to maintain her professional composure. She adjusted her jacket and sighed. “That’s not how I would have pitched the idea, but basically, yes. We would like to host an exhibition match.”
“If you win, you get what you want,” Bard continued, ignoring his partners’ irritation. “Specifically, meeting with Smiles and answers to your super-secret questions.
“And if you lose,” he added with theatrical flair, “demotion to minor leagues, public humiliation, systematic harassment. Possibly multiple top 100 Billboard odes to your defeat written by yours truly. You know, the works.”
Eliza and Finn exchanged glances. They didn’t care about player standing—they just wanted to talk to Smiles. That was an instant yes.
“And the catch?” Eliza asked.
Besides the lopsided battle? Finn thought to himself.
Blaze grimaced. “We’ll need a week or two in-game to set up the match and properly advertise the event—”
“Also to make badly needed repairs,” Tombs reminded them.
“Yeah, that too or whatever,” Bard said with a dismissive wave. “But mostly the advertising and betting. We can always buy a bigger club or have Tombs make us a new one.” The earth mage looked utterly horrified now.
Blaze set casino chips on the table, the coins glowing bright yellow. “Here’s the contract.” As she finished speaking, a glowing yellow system notice materialized before them both:
CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH CONTRACT
Parties: Death and Taxes vs. Fluffy Rules
Stakes: Arena meeting with Smiles vs. minor League demotion, public humiliation, and being forced to listen to Bard gloat.
Terms: Single elimination match, standard Death Ball rules.
Accept? Y/N
Finn and Eliza looked at each other, wordless communication passing between them—a product of thousands of matches. They’d talked a big game with Smiles, but could they really take the entire <Death and Taxes> roster by themselves? Yet he saw no reservation in her eyes. Eliza was committed to seeing this through, regardless of the odds.
And he still needed to blow off some steam...
“We accept,” Finn said finally.
The system message flared bright.
CONTRACT FORMED
Blaze nodded in satisfaction, Tombs looked relieved, and Bard clapped his hands together in glee. “Excellent! This should be quite the spectacle,” he promised.
Then his expression sobered, a yellow sheen coating his body. “The only question is who’s going to win. I don’t plan to go easy on you two this time.”
“If that’s the case, why don’t we shake on it?” Eliza offered, extending her hand, her skin undulating. “Unless you’re scared I’ll kick your ass again…”
Bard hesitated, eyeing her hand warily and backing away. “Um, actually... I’m, uh, social distancing from plague-born monster girls made of mold. It’s not me, it’s definitely you. Just unsanitary, if you know what I mean. I just—”
Tombs mercifully yanked him away before Eliza took out part of the club.
Finn just shook his head as the trio departed, his gaze shifting—only to discover the Seer had vanished during the conversation. Of course she had, he thought bitterly.
Yet she’d left a parting present. A final card: Death upright.
He swallowed hard. Just more bullshit… yeah, that’s what it was.
“Are you sure we can do this? The two of us against all of them?” Eliza asked.
Finn took a deep breath and tried to ignore the pit in his stomach. In some ways, the anger was easier. “I can’t see the future. I don’t know what comes next. But I do know one thing.”
Flames flickered around his crystalline hand, melting down the coin permanently, until molten gold leaked between his fingers and drip, drip, dripped onto pristine white marble.
“I never fucking give up.”
Even when I should, he added silently.
Rachael had always loved that about him...
Comments
Travis Bagwell
Good job! I missed a "did"
JP
“As Finn focused on that barrier, his sight burrowed deeper, trying to peel back the many, many layers of interference. And when he finally? Oppressive mana flared bright enough…” Minor edit, probably supposed to be a word after finally.
