Rex wasn't sure what was worse — the silence that followed the Dealer's disappearance or Lia's expression afterward.
She looked at him like someone staring at a meteor that had politely asked for directions.
Half awe, half exhaustion.
"So," Rex said, hands in his pockets. "Fifty Recognition Points or I die again. Easy."
Lia sighed — a sound too human for a system's projection. "You're taking this well."
"I'm taking it loudly on the inside."
She arched an eyebrow, tapping her slate. "You realize the last person to survive a Recognition Trial was a demigod, right?"
"Cool. Guess I'm trending up."
"Rex, this isn't—"
"Relax," he said, cutting her off. "If the House wants a show, I'll give it one."
For a moment, she said nothing. Then her slate shimmered again, displaying a constellation-like map — thousands of floating tables arranged in a spiral. At the center burned a sigil: The House of Odds.
Lia pointed to a lower ring. "That's where you'll start — the Initiate Table. Survival runs, minor gambits, localized worlds. Your first job is to earn points before the next cycle."
"Cycle?"
"One universal rotation. Thirty-two local days."
"So… about a month to not die."
"Precisely."
Rex looked thoughtful. "Any chance I can cash in charisma for safety?"
Lia blinked. "That's not a stat."
"It should be."
She almost smiled, then remembered she wasn't supposed to.
Before she could reply, a soft ding echoed through the air.
A new window appeared above Rex's hand — translucent, gold-edged.
[Initiate Trial Invitation]
World: Earth-Variant Delta
Objective: Resolve a localized Gambit event before total collapse.
Reward: 10 Recognition Points.
Failure: Forfeit 25 Fate Points.
"Localized Gambit event?" Rex asked.
"Think of it as a reality leak. The House loves testing unstable worlds."
He read the text again, then looked at her. "So my first mission is… patching reality?"
"Temporarily."
"Lovely." He grinned. "Hope reality's into sarcasm."
Before Lia could stop him, Rex pressed Accept.
Light swallowed them both.
When Rex's vision cleared, he was standing under a stormy sky.
Skyscrapers loomed half-collapsed around him; glowing cards drifted like ash in the wind. Somewhere distant, laughter echoed — cruel, familiar, and divine.
Lia materialized beside him, cloak fluttering. "You just teleported us into a collapsing world without a briefing."
He grinned. "Briefings are for people who plan to lose."
She stared at him. Then, against her will — she laughed.
The House trembled.
Somewhere far above, the Dealer watched from his throne of dice, swirling his drink.
"Let's see if the Wildcard can bluff the apocalypse."
___________________
The world looked like Earth had tried to host a poker night and accidentally invited Cthulhu.
Half the city was frozen mid-collapse — cars floating sideways, rivers running in reverse, a neon sign flickering the word "LUCKY" on repeat.
Rex took it all in with a casual nod. "Nice neighborhood."
Lia's eyes scanned glowing data streams. "The collapse zone covers twenty kilometers. Probability distortion's off the charts. Someone here made a wager big enough to unthread causality."
"Translation?"
"Someone bet stupidly."
He grinned. "My kind of person."
Before Lia could argue, a tremor ran through the street. A dozen floating playing cards flickered into a shape — a holographic screen. A man appeared, kneeling amid the wreckage, eyes glowing gold.
[Active Gambit Detected]
Player: Daniel Cross
Wager: "My entire city… for her life."
Opponent: [Unknown Entity]
Pot Value: 120,000 Fate Points
Rex whistled low. "That's a lot of zeroes."
"Idiot," Lia muttered. "He's turned his emotions into currency. That kind of bet attracts monsters."
"Let me guess," Rex said, cracking his neck. "We're here to fix his emotional bankruptcy?"
"Or die trying."
A shadow slithered across the sky — a massive, grinning face made of swirling clouds and card suits. It whispered like a thousand gamblers holding their breath.
"All in… or all gone."
The city shook.
Rex's grin widened. "I like the stakes already."
"Rex—"
But he was already walking forward, dust swirling around his boots. "You said I need Recognition, right? Nothing says 'notice me' like out-gambling a ghost god."
Lia pinched the bridge of her nose. "You are statistically exhausting."
"Thanks. I practice."
A moment later, he stepped into the distortion field. Time rippled — day to night, laughter to screams, dice to dust.
The world folded like paper, and Rex found himself standing across from the kneeling man — Daniel — whose eyes burned with desperation.
"Who the hell are you?" Daniel demanded.
"Consultant," Rex said easily. "I fix bad bets."
"This isn't your fight!"
Rex pointed up at the massive spectral face overhead. "Buddy, when the sky starts talking in gambling metaphors, it's everyone's fight."
The entity's laughter rolled like thunder. "Another mortal dares to sit at my table?"
Rex shrugged. "Someone has to keep the odds honest."
Lia appeared beside him, shimmering like moonlight. "You're really doing this."
"Relax," Rex whispered. "I've bluffed scarier things than clouds."
"You died last time."
He flashed her a grin. "And look how well that turned out."
The entity leaned closer, voice dripping with amusement.
"Name your wager, little Wildcard."
Rex's eyes glowed faintly gold as the House interface flickered before him.
He smiled. "My wager? If I win, the boy's city stays standing."
"And your stake?"
Rex's smirk sharpened. "If I lose…"
He glanced at Lia, who instantly looked horrified.
"…you get my next reincarnation."
The entire world seemed to stop breathing. Lia's jaw dropped. "You absolute lunatic."
Rex winked. "Relax. I don't plan on losing twice."
The entity's laughter split the clouds. "Deal accepted."
The air shimmered — a massive roulette wheel materialized in the sky, half-reality, half-nightmare. Cards rained down like shooting stars.
Rex rolled his shoulders. "Let's dance."
And just like that, the first true Gambit began — not against mortals, but against the House's own twisted sense of humor.
Lia sighed, floating beside him as the roulette began to spin. "One day you'll learn restraint."
Rex smirked. "And on that day, the universe will be so bored."