Michael's dazed eyes fluttered, the world swimming into focus through a haze of pain.
His head throbbed, a dull ache from the needle that had knocked him out in his Seventh Street apartment.
He tried to move, but his wrists burned against cold metal cuffs strapping him to a concrete pillar.
The air was stale, heavy with dust and the faint hum of Ether, suggesting an abandoned building somewhere in New Eridu's fringes-maybe the outskirts of Brant Street or a derelict warehouse near a Hollow zone.
Neon light leaked through cracked windows, casting jagged shadows across rusted beams and scattered debris.
What the hell happened? he thought, his rational mind kicking in despite the disorientation.
The abduction was unexpected, sure, but New Eridu was a city of shadows-kidnappings, like murders, happened.
His Sequence abilities, gifted by the Wheel of Fortune's white snake, had confirmed his knack for tilting luck, but right now, he felt anything but lucky.
Focus.
Figure out where I am and why I'm here.
Voices echoed nearby, low and urgent, cutting through the fog in his head.
Michael stayed still, listening intently, his dark eyes narrowing.
Two men, maybe three, their tones clipped and professional-mercenaries, not street thugs.
"We need to secure it before Null_Face gets wind," one growled.
"The boss hid it well, but it's got to be with one of them."
"The money's not on the streets," another said.
"Check the employees again. One of them knows something."
Michael's stomach twisted as the pieces clicked.
It's about my damn old job.
His former employer, the one investigated by the Hollow Affairs & Neutralization Department, had been embezzling funds for Null_Face, a criminal proxy network.
Apparently, the CEO had stashed the money-Dennises, data chips, or worse-and these mercenaries were hunting it, believing one of the employees knew where it was hidden.
Damn it all, he thought, frustration spiking but quickly reined in.
He wasn't to blame for his boss's crimes, but being strapped to a pillar suggested these mercs weren't taking chances.
He took a swift breath, forcing calm.
His senses tingled, the brass coin still in his pocket radiating a faint warmth.
The cuffs were standard issue, mechanical, not Ether-locked-sloppy for mercenaries in New Eridu.
There's an easy way to remove them, he thought, his mind sharpening as the Wheel of Fortune's influence nudged his perception.
Sequence 4 abilities included subtle luck manipulation, and as a Misfortune Mage, he could make improbabilities bend in his favor-like a lock clicking open at the right moment.
First, he scanned the room.
His eyes darted around, adjusting to the dim light. Along the walls, more figures were bound to pillars-his former coworkers, faces pale and eyes wide.
He recognized a few: Tara from accounting, Raj from IT, faces he'd passed in the office with barely a nod.
I hardly knew them, he thought, but that doesn't mean I won't save them.
He wasn't a hero, but leaving them to these mercs wasn't an option. One step at a time.
Get free, then figure out the rest.
Michael flexed his wrists, feeling the cuffs' mechanism.
A slight twist, a nudge of pressure, and a flicker of his mage's luck-nothing overt, just a tilt of probability.
He pictured the Wheel turning, the snake's coils aligning fate.
With a soft click, the cuffs sprang open, as if the lock had been waiting for his touch.
It felt like an easy magician's trick, but it was his power at work-effortless, precise.
He slipped free, rubbing his wrists, the coin in his pocket pulsing once.
He crouched, moving silently toward a stack of crates, the neon light barely reaching this corner.
Footsteps echoed-two mercenaries, armed with Ether knives, approached to check the prisoners. Michael held his breath, his rational mind calculating.
Stay hidden. Let them notice first. A moment later, one merc stopped at his empty pillar, his voice sharp.
"Hey! One's gone!"
"Find him!" The other barked, and chaos erupted.
Boots pounded, radios crackled, and the mercenaries fanned out, their flashlight beams slicing through the gloom.
"Someone escaped!" one yelled, panic creeping into his tone.
"Check the exits, now!"
Michael slipped deeper into the shadows, his heart steady despite the adrenaline.
The Wheel of Fortune had turned again, his escape a small victory in New Eridu's deadly game.
But with his coworkers still bound and the mercenaries hunting, he knew this was only the beginning.
***
Michael's lungs burned as he sprinted across the rooftops of New Eridu's industrial outskirts, adrenaline surging through him like a live wire.
The abandoned warehouses below flickered under neon signs, their cracked facades a blur as he leaped from one building to the next.
One false jump, and he'd plummet into the alleys where mercenaries hunted him, their radios crackling with orders to find the escaped prisoner.
Keep moving. Don't think about the fall, he thought, his rational mind steady despite the chaos.
He wasn't a parkour master, but his abilities tilted the odds, making each leap feel improbably precise, as if fate itself guided his steps.
He vaulted over a rusted vent, his loafers skidding on gravel, and landed on a low rooftop, crouching to catch his breath.
His black tie flapped in the night breeze, his suit jacket long discarded in the warehouse.
The mercenaries' voices echoed below-sharp, panicked, their flashlight beams slicing through the dark.
They're close, but I'm faster, he thought, wiping sweat from his trimmed beard.
The abduction had been a shock, tying him to his old job's embezzled funds, but he wasn't about to let it end him.
New Eridu was a city of chances, and he'd make his own.
Something caught his eye, a glint of movement across the street.
From the rooftop's edge, he spotted three figures in an alley: Billy Kid, his star-shaped eyepiece gleaming, his cybernetic frame unmistakable; Anby, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows, her Cunning Hares jacket patched but proud; and Eous, the unique Bangboo with a rabbit-like bounce, its LED eyes flickering.
They moved with purpose, likely on a commission-tracking a Hollow, chasing a bounty, or sniffing out trouble. What a fortune, Michael thought, a spark of hope igniting.
The Cunning Hares were pros, and right now, he needed allies.
He scrambled down a fire escape, his movements swift but controlled, the adrenaline making him feel sharper than ever.
The mercenaries' shouts grew louder, boots pounding closer. Michael hit the alley and sprinted toward the trio, his voice low but urgent.
"Hey! Cunning Hares!"
Billy spun, his revolvers half-raised, while Abby's hand went to her blade. Eous chirped, its ears twitching.
"Whoa, who's this guy?" Billy said, his voice a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
"You lost, pal?"
"No time," Michael panted, his calm cracking just enough to show the stakes.
"Mercenaries are after me. They're coming, and they're armed."
Anby narrowed her eyes, sizing him up.
"Why should we trust you? You look like a desk jockey, not a Proxy."
Before Michael could answer, the air shimmered behind them, a faint hum signaling a small Hollow gate forming-a rift in reality, its edges swirling with violet static.
Perfect timing, he thought, his Misfortune Mage instincts flaring.
As a hail of bullets erupted from the alley's mouth-mercenary rifles firing blindly-he acted on instinct, grabbing Billy's arm and shoving Abby and Eous toward the gate.
"Move!" he yelled, diving in after them.
The world twisted, and they landed inside the Hollow, the gunfire silenced as the gate snapped shut.
The space was a warped maze of floating platforms and flickering screens, like a glitched TV Mode puzzle from a proxy's dive.
Neon-lit debris hung suspended, and the air buzzed with latent Ether, prickling Michael's skin.
He steadied himself, his loafers slipping on the uneven ground, and faced the Cunning Hares, who looked as confused as he felt.
Billy dusted off his jacket, his eyepiece glinting.
"Okay, random dude, what was that? You just yeeted us into a Hollow like it's no big deal!"
Anby crossed her arms, her blade still half-drawn.
"Yeah, explain. Fast. You're not a Proxy, so how'd you know that gate was safe?"
Eous chirped, hopping closer, its LED eyes scanning Michael curiously.
He took a breath, his rational mind clicking into gear.
They're wary, but they're not enemies. Be straight with them.
The Hollow's eerie quiet gave him a moment to think, and he knew the mercenaries wouldn't follow-not without anti-corruption gear.
I've got a shot to make this work.
"Name's Michael Varen," he said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline.
"I'm a data analyst at the White Star Institute, but I got mixed up in some bad business-my old boss's embezzlement for Null_Face. Those mercs kidnapped me, thinking I know where the money's hidden."
"I escaped, but they're not giving up. That gate?" He shrugged, a half-truth ready. "I've studied Hollow Rifts. Saw the signs, took a chance. Got lucky."
Billy tilted his head, his grin creeping back.
"Lucky, huh? You move like you are a Hollow diver. You sure you're just a number cruncher?"
Abby's eyes softened, but her grip on her blade stayed firm.
"You saved our hides back there. That buys you some trust. But we're on a job, and you're complicating it."
Eous nudged Michael's leg, chirping softly. He managed a small smile, his thoughts racing.
The Cunning Hares are my ticket out.
The Hollow's shifting platforms loomed around them, a reminder that safety was temporary.
I'll stick with them, help with their mission, and get clear of those mercs. One step at a time.
"Whatever you're doing," Michael said, "I can help. I owe you for not shooting me on sight. Just get me out of this mess, and I'm your guy-for now."
Billy laughed, holstering his revolvers.
"I like this guy! Alright, Mikey, stick with us. Let's see if your luck holds."
Abby sighed, sheathing her blade.
"Fine. But don't slow us down."
As they moved deeper into the Hollow, Eous hopping ahead, Michael felt the brass coin in his pocket pulse faintly.
His escape, the Cunning Hares, the Hollow Gate-it wasn't just adrenaline.
His abilities had nudged fate, and now, he was running with New Eridu's wildest crew.