447 A.R. – Night in (Future Timeline: June 18, 452 A.R.)
When Rei's eyes opened again, cold air slammed into his lungs.
The hospital room. The flickering light. The mechanical birds outside the window, their glass eyes blinking in unison.
Back in the future. Back in this broken body.
His legs were numb. His side ached where the knife wound had been—phantom pain from a death that kept recurring. But his mind was sharp, focused.
Three days. I have three days in the past to secure thirty silver and arrange transport. Which means I need to maximize every second I have here.
He shifted carefully, testing his body's limits. The paralysis was complete from the waist down. His hands trembled but responded. Breathing hurt but was manageable.
The door creaked open.
Darius entered carrying a tray—water, bread, some kind of thin soup that probably tasted like despair. The former bodyguard's expression showed concern mixed with the weary resignation of someone who'd seen too many broken people waste away in beds just like this.
"You're awake," Darius observed, setting the tray on the small table beside the bed. "Figured you'd sleep through the night after yesterday. You looked half-dead."
If only you knew how accurate that assessment is.
"Can't afford to sleep too much," Rei said, his voice rough from disuse. "Time's... limited."
Darius raised an eyebrow. "That's a strange thing for a crippled kid to say. What's the rush? You're not going anywhere for a while."
Rei looked at him directly. "The gambling house. The one where Lucien Varen lost the county. Where is it?"
The question hung in the air like a thrown knife.
Darius went very still. "Why would you want to know that?"
"Because knowledge is leverage," Rei replied simply. "And I need to understand exactly how House Varen fell if I'm going to..." He trailed off deliberately, leaving the implication hanging.
"Going to what?" Darius' eyes narrowed. "You're planning something. Something stupid."
"Something necessary." Rei met his gaze steadily. "The gambling house. Is it still standing?"
Darius was quiet for a long moment, studying Rei with the kind of assessment soldiers gave when deciding whether someone was an ally or a liability.
"It's still there," he said finally. "Or what's left of it. Place called The Gilded Serpent. Used to be fancy, marble floors, crystal chandeliers, the kind of establishment where nobles pretended their vices were sophisticated entertainment."
"Used to be?"
"Got raided by the Order about a year after Lucien's loss. Officially for 'unlicensed gaming operations.' Really because Marlen Crest wanted to erase evidence of how he'd acquired the county. Most of the records were seized or destroyed." Darius' expression darkened. "The building's still there, though. Run-down now. Some low-level operators use it for dice games and card tournaments. Nothing like its glory days."
Rei's mind raced. "Where exactly?"
"Western district. About three blocks from here, actually." Darius gestured vaguely toward the window. "There's an old opera house, abandoned now, and across from it, there's a building with faded gold serpent painted on the facade. Can't miss it."
Three blocks. Close enough that I could,
"Don't even think about it," Darius interrupted, reading his expression. "You can't walk. You can barely sit up without help. Whatever you're planning, it's not happening."
Rei smiled faintly. "Then I'll need help."
"Absolutely not."
"You said you were loyal to House Varen. To what it represented." Rei leaned forward slightly, ignoring the pain. "If I told you there was a way to understand exactly how they fell—to see the proof, the records, the moment everything went wrong—wouldn't you want to know?"
Darius' jaw clenched. "The records are gone. Crest made sure of it."
"Maybe. Or maybe they just didn't look hard enough." Rei's eyes gleamed. "Buildings like that have basements. Back rooms. Places where owners hide things they don't want authorities finding. If The Gilded Serpent was as sophisticated as you say, they kept detailed records. For blackmail. For protection. For leverage against the nobles who owed them money."
The logic hung between them, undeniable.
"Even if records exist," Darius said slowly, "why do you care? What could you possibly do with information about a gambling debt from three years ago?"
Everything. I could do everything.
"Let's find out," Rei replied.