After paying the Praetor the required amount of money, Vincent, Eliot, and Zander made their way into the elevator, heading towards the Silver Pillar. Following right behind them was Livia, who pressed the silver-colored button when she made it in.

Silently, the elevator began to move upwards, towards their destination. There was little conversation for a few seconds, but suddenly Vincent tapped Livia on the shoulder and asked her a question.

“Why do you work in a place like this?” he asked.

Visibly a little surprised by the question, Livia took a few seconds to answer his question. “Well, you see…” she hesitated. “...I need to earn money and the working here allows me to—”

“That’s not what I mean,” Vincent replied, cutting her off.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno, like, you don’t seem to be the same kind of asshole as the rest of the people here.”

Vincent then looked up at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts and put them into words. “Like,” he continued, “you seem nice and a bit sad or something. What I’m trying to say is Lucretia is obviously horrible and this place is the worst place I could ever think of, and you don’t seem like you belong.” He then looked over at Eliot and said “El, back me up here—you’re better at reading people.”

Without hesitation, although a bit softly, Eliot added, “No, I think you’re pretty right with that. Livia,” he said, turning his attention towards the casino worker, “you are a really nice person and it seems like you really don’t want to be here.”

The elevator grew a bit silent, and the only audible sound was coming from the mechanisms that were lifting all of them upwards. Livia’s eyes then bounced all around the room for a few seconds before making eye contact with Vincent. She then took a big breath, exhaled, and shivered a bit.

“Well you’re right about me not wanting to be here,” she replied with a mournful tone. “But that doesn’t just apply to me—everyone who works here and most people who live here don’t want to be. We are all here because we are trapped by Lucretia, and in order to survive, we have to play by her rules.”

“Tsk. What a bitch,” Vincent replied, running his hands through his hair. “I really hate this place.”

“So do the rest of us, especially because of all the things we have to do.”

“Is there more to do than just run the casino?” Eliot genuinely asked.

Livia rubbed her left arm as she said, “Yes...there is.”

Eliot’s eyes were now a bit wide and he took an audible gasp before frowning a bit. “Um um uh y-you don’t have to talk about it if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“No, it’s ok,” she replied, taking another deeper breath. “For some reason, I want to trust and believe in you, so I’ll tell you the truth. The people who live and work here do some terrible things and commit atrocities that we eventually grow numb to. After all, if we don’t, we will just die. It’s a matter of survival, but one without any hope.”

Vincent then slammed his fist against the elevator wall. In the center of his whole being, there was anger, annoyance, and a persistent hatred that flared up every time he thought about this place.

“Fuck this place, “ Vincent said with some force behind it.

“Vince,” Zander jumped in, “I understand why you really don’t like this place, because I don’t either, but I've never seen you get this upset about something in a long time.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Vincent regained a bit of his composure. He took a few seconds to try and line up the many thoughts and emotions that were rattling around in his head. When he felt like he had a sufficient answer, he turned and addressed everyone in that elevator.

“Well...how do I put this?” He started. “Like, I’ve always been someone who thinks that people are free to do whatever the hell they want, ‘cause it don’t affect me. But I kinda draw the line when what they do hurts someone else. Like, that really isn’t freedom if you are hurt by the choices of others and not your own.”

“I’m following you,” Zander replied.

“And this place,” Vincent said, glancing around the elevator, “is the exact thing that I hate. What this place does is take every choice you could make away, and that just ain’t right. That’s prolly why this place just irritates me.”

“Vince…” Eliot softly said, rubbing Vincent’s back.

“I think we all feel the same way,” Zander confidently stated.

“You’re right,” Livia added. “I just hope that you are able to live a decent life here.”

Ding dong

The elevator stopped moving and the doors opened.

“This is where we part ways,” Livia somberly continued, “but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what you will have to go through to get there.”

“Don’t be,” Vincent quickly replied, pushing past her while strutting out of the elevator, “because we’re gonna do more than live here.” He then looked around at his other friends and cracked a genuine but devious smile. “We’re gonna tear this place up from the top. Lucretia better watch her back.”

***

After roaming around the Silver Pillar, the friends eventually decided to find a place to sleep for the night before getting too involved with any more gambling. Zander was the first to suggest that, basing his reasoning on the fact that they needed to plan more before blindly running around in another part of the casino. Eliot was in agreement, although he admitted that he was just so emotionally drained that he didn’t think he could handle any more for the day.

That just left Vincent, who was fired up from the conversation they had with Livia in the elevator. He tried sneaking off to play some more games, motivated by the fire in his heart. However, Zander and Eliot managed to wrangle him in.

The group eventually paid for a night’s stay at the Silver Pillar’s hotels, although Zander complained about the price the entire time.

As they made their way towards their room, Vincent, not really paying attention, bumped into a stranger. The stranger was quite a bit taller than him, standing at least 3 or 4 inches taller, and their appearance was a bit androgynous. Another thing that Vincent noticed about the stranger was their extremely pale complexion, challenging Zander’s ghost-like appearance. The other thing that stood out was their fire-red hair that was tied into a ponytail. Their hair, even tied up, flowed a little past their shoulders. Atop their head also sat a beanie, which definitely concealed and hid the rest of what his hair looked like.

“Oh sorry, dude,” Vincent casually apologized.

The stranger turned around and said, “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I really have a bad time paying attention.” They then awkwardly laughed “I’m so clumsy.” Their emerald-green eyes were especially reflective in the light, and they helped reflect their almost sincere laugh.

“I feel you with that one,” Vincent replied. “What’s your name? I’m Vincent.”

The stranger seemed a bit taken back by the force of Vincent’s nature, but smiled warmly and replied, “My name is Fang.” They then stuck out their hand for a shake.

Vincent shook back and exclaimed, “Damn, that’s a pretty sweet name you got.” He then looked back at his friends and said “Did you hear that? He’s got a cool name.”

“They have a cool name,” Fang politely corrected.

Confused for a few seconds on what they meant, Vincent just stared.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know,” Vincent said, finally understanding what Fang was talking about.

Zander then socked Vincent in the back of the head and said, “You smooth-brained moron.” He then looked up at Fang and said, “I’m sorry about our friend.”

Fang just laughed and said “It’s alright, it’s alright. How was he supposed to know?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Zander conceded. “Well, if you don’t mind, we have to go get a night’s rest.”

“I’ll see ya later, Fang!” Vincent called out as he and his friends made their way to their room.

Once they got to their room, each of them laid down on some sort of sleeping furniture. Eliot and Vincent shared a bed, while Zander slept in his own bed. This was the usual sleeping arrangement, seeing as both Eliot and Vincent knew how much of a spoiled brat Zander was about how he sleeps. There would be times where Zander would visit Vincent at his house, and Vincent would give up his own bed for Zander. Which honestly, didn’t bother Vincent at all—he could just as easily fall asleep on a rock.

Within seconds of laying down on his bed, Vincent’s eyes began to close and his mind began to drift away. As soon as his head began to grow dark, he fell into a deep slumber. He was easily the first of the friends to fall asleep.

***

Opening his eyes, Vincent saw nothing but darkness before him. He had to blink a few times to make sure that he actually opened his eyes. As soon as he confirmed that his eyes were indeed open, he sat up.

The first thing he noticed was that the air was stuffier, almost like there was a heavy smog that was slowly entering his lungs. He coughed a few times, but nothing seemed to do the trick. It wasn’t a dangerous feeling, just one of annoyance.

Looking around, he saw that everything around him was just pure black. However, when he looked at his own hands and body, he could see them as clear as day. How there was simultaneously no light, and a seemingly omnipresent light that lit up his body, didn’t make much sense to him.

That confusion didn’t last very long, seeing as his thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

“Ah, it’s about time,” the voice said. The weird part about the voice was that it seemed to originate from inside of Vincent's head, not from an external source. Even so, there was still somehow a direction to it, parallel to the direction of the slight throbbing in his head.

Looking in that direction, he saw a strange sight: a humanoid figure, completely encased in white and somewhat glowing at the same time. The figure was featureless, but definitely human.

“What?” Vincent asked. Although he thought he was confused, something about the figure seemed oddly familiar, and the dichotomy between being absolutely confused and familiar with the figure all but made his head spin.

“I see you're a bit dreary still. That’s not a surprise, seeing as this connection is a bit weak.”

Looking around the figure, Vincent asked, “Where am I? Where the hell have you trapped me?”

The figure then looked directly at Vincent, which was a bit off-putting, because it didn’t have eyes or any facial features. The figure laughed and replied, “I can see why you would think that, but it’s quite the opposite—you have me trapped.”

If the confusion wasn’t enough from before, now Vincent was completely lost in the conversation. After all, some paradoxical figure just claimed that he trapped them in a place that he doesn’t even recognize. That being said, he felt oddly at ease and comfortable with where he was.

“What are you talking about?” Vincent asked.

Walking at an angle somewhat towards Vincent, the figure put their arms behind their back and replied, “I can see that you’re not quite ready for that, and quite frankly, I don’t think I have time to talk about that right now.”

The figure then stopped and seemed to casually look around at the emptiness around them. The figure then turned back towards Vincent and pointed a finger at them.

“You are asleep at this given moment.”

“No I’m not, I’m obviously awake, idiot.”

The figure then sighed. “I suppose that’s where we can start. You see, the only reason I am able to reach you right now is because you are asleep. Your mind, when you’re asleep, thinks and fires off thoughts freely, without restraint, especially after a taxing day.”

The figure then strutted around for a while before finishing their thought.

“That is why I can finally talk to you again.”

“Again?” Vincent asked.

Seemingly ignoring Vincent’s question, the figure said, “You know, you are the freest man in the world. Freedom is such a thing that we all strive for, and I know you do. After all, I know you better than you know yourself.”

The figure then began to pace around in a different manner. It was subtle, but the way that the figure moved seemed a bit more rigid. “I need you just like you need me. You may not know it, but we are one.”

Putting his hands up in protest, Vincent retorted, “What the hell are you going on about? I don’t even know who you are. Who are you?”

The figure stopped walking about. “That’s fair,” the figure replied. “I have been called many things in my time, but for now you can refer to me as Alltemiac.”

“Alltemiac? That’s a hell of a name.”

“But as I was saying we...il...lisk...and…” the voice cut in and out, much like a phone in an area with no reception.

“What did you say?”

“Hm,” the figure replied. “It seems that we’re out of your time. I suppose we’ll see each other at another time.”

“What are you—” But before Vincent could even finish that thought, the area around him suddenly turned bright white and he felt himself thrust forwards at an incredible speed. Within a fraction of a second, the momentum that carried him forwards caused him to jolt up and sit up out of his bed, now completely awake and sweating.