“So, what’s the plan?” Sitting at a table outside a café alongside her sidekick Jareth, Ragna took a croissant from the plate. She ripped the crust open with her teeth and swallowed it in one go. “You didn’t invite me to lunch just because you missed me, did ya?” Ragna put her food back on the plate and showed Grendel her widest grin as her teeth sharpened to fangs.

“Actually.” Grendel arched an eyebrow. His eyes’ focus switched between the croissant and Ragna’s lips. “I really missed you.”

“Oh well then. It’s great to see my favorite Avalonian again.” Ragna’s facial expression softened, and she winked at him.

Grendel was hiding something from her, but it didn’t seem that he was lying.

“You know other folks from Avalon?” Grendel drank from his coffee.

“Since I’ve entered the city.” Ragna chuckled. “I can’t believe you happened to see me during a game. Didn’t you go to Heorot two months ago? Why are you still here?”

Grendel shrugged and held the cup of coffee in front of his face. “I had found the enemy, but a horror might appear soon. Protecting the city’s more important.”

“Having to deal with a “submerged” from the “reality scar” is a perilous task that might necessitate the sacrifice of one’s short-term desires.” Jareth broke off a cookie from his plate and shoved it into his mask, where it slid like through water.

Ragna and Grendel looked at the white blank mask that covered all of his face except his eyes.

What did Jareth mean with these terms? “Reality scar” didn’t sound farfetched if one believed the records from the first recon mission into Hy-Bres, but the implications made her shudder. Though, for the term “submerged”, she drew blanks. Even if she asked Jareth, he would give an answer that wouldn’t answer her question. Perhaps that was another quirk from his home. Not that she knew from where Jareth came.

So far, he had avoided all questions, but whatever place his hometown was, it had to be a strange one. Besides his unfamiliarity with aspects of modern society, his understanding of Mana rivaled that of void theory experts.

At times, she would think that Jareth was an elf, but elves had long vertical ears that extended from the skull like daggers. And they didn’t exist like any other fairy.

“You’ve fetched yourself a…” Grendel paused. He drank from his coffee and looked at the sky that neon signs and darkening clouds consumed. “…unique fellow.”

“Really?” Jareth titled his head. “I’ve always thought of myself as average. The people I care about are the special ones.”

Grendel shrugged. “Oh well. If he says that he’s average, then we should respect that. We can’t live in a society if we do unto others as we would have them do unto us.” He took the half-eaten cookie from Jareth’s plate and bit into it. “But where are Altera and Eric?”

“Splitting up would make it faster to get enough Honey. Jareth’s the new guy and my sidekick, so he’s sticking with me. I also wanted to give Altera and Eric some space so they could talk or sort their issues out.”

Grendel raised his brow. “A lover’s quarrel? Didn’t expect those two to end up together.”

Ragna chuckled. “You wish. But seriously. There was some incident that drew a bridge between them. That’s all I know. But speaking of missing partners. Where’s Puck?”

Jareth’s face titled towards Grendel.

“He left for Avalon about a month ago. Professor Byleth needed his assistance with some experiments.”

“And you’re staying here until the horror’s gone so you can kill your archenemy without moral issues?” Ragna crossed her arms, and Grendel nodded. “And you’ve got nothing to do till then, right?”

Grendel nodded again.

Ragna smiled. “Then come with us. We could need another hand, and it would be cool to hang out some more.”

Grendel took a sip and put his coffee down with a smile. “Sure, sounds great. What are your plans.”

“Good question,” Jareth said. “This city’s rules are confusing. Trying to understand what you can and cannot do is difficult enough. But having to learn what you cannot do but should do and can do but shouldn’t do. It’s…”

“We’re currently trying to win enough Honey to get into Avalon, but I’m not really good at gambling. I can play poker and stuff, but in the long term, it won’t be good.”

Ragna sighed.

Her father always hated gambling and called it a waste of money. And he was right. Usually, his greed could shut off his common sense, but in this instance, all Griffins agreed.

What was the point of gambling? The losses and risks outweighed the chance of fortune. Only those who knew how to game the system could earn a stable income. Some people played for the thrill, but why? What was thrilling about the prospect of losing money? If one wanted the adrenaline, other activities could do the trick.

Usually, her mindset should be healthy. But they had entered Heorot. Here, other logic dictated how the world worked. If she wanted to get the tickets, she had to become a gambling expert or find a game a novice could master.

“I’m not really interested in these games,” Grendel said. “But I think I know just the right place.”֎

Sahyir Al-Asnam sighed. He kicked a pebble across the street into a pile of other stones.

He looked around and groaned. Neon signs threw their advertisement into his face like a monkey his feces.

Temporary pleasures Heorot’s citizens had mistaken for decadence. Where were the despair and struggle? This whole charade wasn’t anything more special than going out with your friends for the night.

“Young master, have you made your decision?” one of Sahyir’s bodyguards asked.

Sahyir turned around. He couldn’t tell which one had spoken, and it didn’t matter to him.

“If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here like a donkey. Coming to Heorot was a waste of time. Does any of you have any suggestions? Otherwise, I’m going to board my plane this moment.”

His bodyguards listed one option after another, from trying the most expensive goods in this city to participating in a forbidden human auction.

“How imaginative.” Sayhir rolled with his eyes. “You really think I had never thought of that?”

Nothing in Heorot offered a challenge. Supposedly, this city cast a veil of death that made its citizens value life. But all it created was another excuse to get wasted, have sex, or gamble. Perhaps he should start shooting around with his guns. How long would it take for the special forces to try and stop him?

“Eh.” One of the bodyguards raised his hand. “I’ve found something.”

What was he? A student in a classroom? Well, whatever.

“What is it?”

The bodyguard showed him his phone, and Sahyir grinned. “Oh, that could be interesting.”

֎

Motorcycles were racing across the lane. On some of them, riders had taken control of the vehicles. On others, the machine’s artificial intelligence commanded itself. Humans and computers competed in a battle for superiority, the motors roared, and as the audience cheered, the carbon dioxide left the exhaust to pollute the air.

Sahyir snickered and sat on the seat in the racing ring’s center. He put his hands on the table as the motorcycles jetted in circles around him.

They had developed functioning AI vehicles yet still relied on oil to drive them instead of using Mana. The technology could have existed five hundred years ago, but those with the power to decide preferred to remain stagnant. Why progress when one could stay on course? Once society had reached general prosperity, they became comfortable with the status quo and saw no need to advance further. But in their blindness, they missed how the world was evolving without them, and now humanity had to change to catch up. The politicians who had caused the stagnation still hesitated because catching up would cost too much. Without their complacency preventing gradual advancement, such prices wouldn’t be necessary.

Sayhir shrugged, his eyes focusing on the girl on the other side of the table.

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t here for the racing but for Ragna Griffin.

A black board that reached their chins parted the table in two halves, obscuring his view on the girl’s side of the wood.

Around her body wrapped a black dress like a second skin that left nothing to the imagination. She might as well be naked.

No, that she wasn’t made the dress so effective. From her waist up, it didn’t expose a spec of skin. But it stimulated an onlooker’s fantasies. During a gambling match, when a player’s emotions were on a high and alcohol had excited the brain, seeing Ragna Griffin in that dress could make them lose focus.

He looked down at his clothes: a black three-piece suit with a red tie.

Compared to her, he had dressed like a couch potato. She was gorgeous. He was plain.

Well, women had the advantage of beauty. Unlike men, they could wear anything and could always look mesmerizing. There were days he had wondered if Raa had made women beautiful so that they could bear living in a world stacked against them. Or perhaps Raa was a twisted genius who wished to delight at the sight of a beautiful flower struggling. Beauty had no worth if it couldn’t despair, or despair had no worth if it didn’t please the eye.

“Excuse me, mister. Are you done staring at your crotch?”

“Oh.” Sahyir looked up and hawked as he left his thoughts behind. “Excuse me. Reality has often numbed my senses, so I’m used to falling into my thoughts.”

Ragna chuckled. “I’m not going to complain. If you drift off and lose the game, that’ll be on you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Sahyir stroked his goatee. “What game are we playing anyway?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Sahyir stroked his goatee. “What game are we playing anyway?”

This better be worth it. When one of his bodyguards had shown him camera footage of Ragna Griffin gambling in Heorot, he had decided on a whim to locate her. It took them three days until they found her in the Heorot Race Center.

While he had followed the news of Princess Aurelia Adler’s botched assassination, his focus lay on the political implications rather than a girl who might or might not be innocent. But now that she had entered Avalon, he had to see if she had any plans.

“We’re playing Glutton Dice.” From the nearest pit stop, two men wearing red bodysuits walked towards them. Neither of them attempted to hide their ashen skin.

Once they had reached the table, a glass dome rose, and the motors and cheers numbed to whispers. Aes stopped existing. The world had shrunk to the parameters inside. At this moment, only eight people were alive: the two men from the pit crew, he, Ragna, two of his bodyguards, and the two men standing behind her.

The person to her right wore a white opera mask, and his skin tone was darker than his.

Was he from north Kemet-Raa? He had to be influential if he managed to cross the ocean and reach Heorot, which meant he should know that man. It didn’t seem he hid his face behind that mask but wore it as part of his image. No one in Kemet-Raa matched that behavior and skin tone.

The other man was “Grendel of the border”. Why had he become Ragna Griffin’s companion? The two had nothing to do with each other. Or did they?

Sahyir snickered.

A fugitive from Midgard, a mysterious individual, and a roundtable candidate from Avalon: What a fascinating combination.

“Mister,” Ragna said in a most innocent tone. “You’ve to at least listen to the rules.”

“Please, don’t call me mister.” Sahyir smiled. “I’m Sahyir Al-Asnam. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ragna Griffin.”

Ragna scowled, and Grendel arched his brows.

It seemed they had hoped that no one would recognize or care about Ragna’s identity. Was that reasonable or foolish?”

“Don’t worry,” Sahyir added. “I won’t rat you out. I’m just here for some revitalization. So, the game’s name was Glutton Dice. What are the rules?”

“The rules are quite easy. Both of you roll a die at the same time. Whenever you roll a number from One to Five, you can add one point to your score.” One of the pitmen held up a die and pointed at the black board. “Don’t worry, each of us is going to keep track of the points. We have placed this partition so that neither can see the hand of your opponent. In other words, you don’t know what the opponent will role. You can keep rolling to increase your score, but if you land on a Six, your final score will be zero, and no more points will be added. You can always stop rolling. Then, your score will freeze for the round. If both players stop or roll a Six, the round stops, and the top scorer will win.”

“Ah, so I lose once I roll a Zero. That’s surprisingly simple.” Sahyir shrugged.

When he had heard that Ragna Griffin was gambling at the HRC, he had hoped that they would utilize the setting. Instead, it had become a game they could have played anywhere, and the race center faded into meaningless scenery. They should have gambled while driving simultaneously. “Card games on motorcycles” sounded like a neat idea.

“It’s not an instant loss if you roll a Six,” one of the pit men said. “You can still roll a die. You won’t get any points, but your opponent might think that you still do.”

Ah, that could be interesting. If he stopped after rolling a Six, his opponent would freeze her score and win automatically. But if he continued, Ragna Griffin couldn’t know if he had gotten a Six or not. She needed to gauge how likely each scenario was and at what point she had to stop.

Sahyir chuckled. “There’s no strategy to this. It’s just a game of pure chance. All you’ve to do is either listen to your guts or your brain.”

“Indeed,” one of the pitmen said. “It’s a game of compulsory desire. But there’s another layer to the game.”

“And that would be?”

“At the start of each round, both of you can bet the result. Will it be a draw, your loss, or victory? You write it down on a piece of paper so that the other can’t see your guess. If you win the game and bet correctly, you get double the Honey you betted for the game. If you win the game and lose the bet, you only get half the Honey you’ve bet. Lose the game and the bet, and you lose double the Honey. If you lose the game but win the bet, you lose half the Honey you had bet. And if you either have a draw or guess both correctly or incorrectly, you neither lose nor win Honey. Any more questions?”

“What about the rest of them?” The man with the mask raised his hand. “Where are Three and Four?”

Sahyir tilted his head.

Was he trying to make a joke?

“You said One, Two, Five, and Six.” The masked man elaborated. “So, what about Three and Four?”

Everyone stared at him, their expressions failing to show emotions.

Sahyir was sure. He didn’t know anyone this dense.

“Good. No questions then.” Neither of the men dignified the masked man’s question with an answer. “Each of us will observe one side of the table. We will call you out if either you have rolled a Six so that you won’t keep rolling until the end of days.”

The men handed them each a paper, a pen, and a die. “Please place your card on the table and write down your prediction. In the first round, you’ve to bet five hundred Honey. And no worries. The dices aren’t loaded.”

Sahyir and Ragna placed their cards on the table, wrote down their predictions, and handed the paper to the men.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Then, “Gluttony Dice” can start.”