The map to the "Pier of Lost Souls" glowed on Leo's smartphone screen, a single, fragile light of hope in the oppressive, suffocating silence of the vault-like room. He was trapped, but now he had a destination, a single point of escape in an ocean of trouble. To get there, however, he needed two things that seemed mutually exclusive: a way out of his safe prison and something of value to trade when he arrived.
He sat on the immaculately made bed, the cold synthetic material beneath his fingers, and opened his inventory in the app. His small collection of bizarre treasures, the spoils of his chaotic missions, appeared before his eyes. Each one represented a solution and a new set of problems.
First, the [Trueflame Scale]. Powerful, no doubt. It pulsed with a comforting warmth that was a tangible reminder of his survival. But its aura of vibrant heat and life felt fundamentally wrong for the Underworld, a place he imagined to be cold and lifeless. Bringing a small ember of sun into the realm of shadows seemed like a terrible idea, a way to announce his presence in a manner that could be seen as an aggression.
Next, the [Fragment of Forbidden Knowledge]. The item that had started this whole mess. The truth about the "recycling" system. Was it valuable? Absolutely. It was the kind of secret factions would kill for. But offering this at Charon's Night Market would be like walking into a police station waving the murder weapon. It was a confession, proof of his transgression. The Syndicate already wanted him; this would just give them the justification they needed to erase him.
The [Seed of the Elder Oak] was his wildest card. A seed of pure life, the essence of an ancient grove. In the Underworld, a domain of death and stagnation, pure life was likely the most dangerous contraband of all. It could be incredibly valuable to the right person, or it could get him instantly incinerated for violating some fundamental cosmic law. It was too great a risk.
Finally, the [Tear of a Satisfied Dragon]. The crystal vial was tiny, the silver liquid inside glowing with a soft, content light. The description was both a warning and a promise: Extremely valuable. Warning: its aura of pure contentment attracts the covetousness of melancholic beings. The Underworld. A place that, by definition, had to be filled with melancholic beings. A drop of pure happiness, the distilled essence of a dragon's joy, had to be worth a fortune there. It was dangerous, yes, but it was a danger he could perhaps manage. It was his best and cleanest bargaining chip. With a pounding heart, he secured the small vial in the safest pocket of his jacket.
Now, for the escape. The main door, the one leading back to Yuki's restaurant, was a death sentence. The Syndicate Agent would be on the other side, waiting with the patience of a glacier. He couldn't use it. But the key's description echoed in his mind: The key will guide the bearer to the nearest door when in mortal danger. He was safe in here, in a suffocating paradox. His safety was his cage. To activate the key, he needed to put himself in danger. He needed to create his own danger, his own door.
He looked at the [Seed of the Elder Oak]. Plant it in soil in need... This room wasn't soil. It was an artificial space, a bubble of nothingness outside of time. What would happen if he tried to force life to grow in a place where life didn't belong? What if he planted a seed of creation in a domain of pure stagnation? It was a chaotic idea. It was a stupid idea. It was perfect.
He knelt and examined the smooth, grey floor. He found what he was looking for: a tiny, almost invisible crack where two slabs of the floor met. He pushed the glowing seed into the fissure with his fingernail. Then, he took the sealed water bottle from the desk—likely the room's only amenity—and poured a little water over the seed.
The reaction was instant and violent.
The floor trembled. The seed didn't germinate; it detonated. Not with fire, but with life. Thick, dark roots covered in razor-sharp thorns erupted from the floor with the force of an explosion, cracking the synthetic ground. They didn't grow up, toward a non-existent light, but sideways, desperately searching for earth, for nutrients, for reality. The roots spread across the walls, creating a network of cracks that spiderwebbed across the entire room like black lightning. The silence was shattered by the sound of splintering stone and shattering wood. The room, a domain of perfect order, was being torn apart by a force of nature that shouldn't be there.
One of the walls, the one opposite the main door, gave way. A large section crumbled, revealing not a void, but a new door. An old, rotting wooden door, covered in barnacles and dripping a dark, salty water, that hadn't been there a second before.
The key in Leo's hand began to glow brightly, its light pulling him toward the new exit.
He didn't waste time. With the sound of his sanctuary collapsing behind him, he threw himself through the new door.
The transition was abrupt and nauseating. The sterile, grey air was replaced by a cold, damp breeze that smelled of salt, decay, and a deep, ancient sadness. He was standing on an old, slick wooden pier that stretched out over a dark, oily river. The water didn't flow; it moved sluggishly, and Leo could swear he saw pale, indistinct faces writhing just below the surface, their mouths open in silent screams. The sky was a perpetual swirl of grey clouds, with no sun or moon, lit by an eternal twilight. This was the Pier of Lost Souls.
At the end of the pier, a figure was waiting for him, her back to him, looking out over the river. It wasn't the pink-haired girl he expected. This woman was tall, regal, dressed in a long black gown that seemed woven from moving shadows. Her hair, still pink, was pinned up in an elegant style, and her posture radiated a quiet power and authority that Leo would never associate with his video-game-addicted client.
When she turned, her eyes weren't sparkling with excitement. They were calm, ancient, and heavy with the weight of millennia. It was Sephie, but it wasn't the "Sephie-chan" from the chat. This was Persephone, Queen of the Underworld.
"You took your time, Leo-kun," she said, her voice a soft melody, but devoid of the manic energy from the chat. The "-kun" now sounded less like a cute nickname and more like the term royalty would use to address a servant. "I was beginning to get bored."
Before Leo could answer, his smartphone vibrated with a cold, familiar notification.
SYNDICATE ALERT: SANCTUARY BREACH DETECTED.RENEGADE AGENT AURA LOCATED: UNDERWORLD DOMAINS, STYX SECTOR.COMPLIANCE AGENT DISPATCHED TO YOUR NEW LOCATION. ESTIMATED TIME OF ARRIVAL: 10 MINUTES.
Persephone glanced at his smartphone, a playful smirk touching her lips. "It seems our time is limited. I hope whatever you brought to bargain with is worth the trouble you're about to cause."