For a place built on probability, laughter shouldn't have had a sound.
But in the House of Odds… it echoed.
It began as a ripple through the air — a soft, mocking chuckle that rolled over the casino's marble floors, shaking dice, spinning cards, and shattering glasses filled with glowing starlight liquor. Gamblers froze mid-bet. The dealers paused. The House itself… was laughing.
Rex raised a brow.
"I didn't think architecture had a sense of humor."
Beside him, Lia's expression was pale but composed. "That isn't humor. That's… statistical hysteria."
"Sounds like my dating history," Rex said, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. "What's the punchline?"
She turned the translucent slate toward him. Every Table across the cosmic hall displayed a single word — flashing in crimson:
WILDCARD.
WILDCARD.
WILDCARD.
Billions of probabilities were collapsing into one name.
The laughter grew — this time accompanied by the Dealer's voice, dripping with amusement.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and omniversal parasites… it seems our dear Wildcard has refused every faction, turned down every sponsor, and mocked every god who offered him insurance. So, the House has decided to… react."
The crowd shifted. Figures cloaked in living numbers and holographic halos turned their eyes toward Rex.
Lia swallowed hard. "Rex, the House never reacts. It adjusts. You're—"
"Breaking it?" he offered helpfully.
"Bending it."
"Semantics."
Then the floor cracked open beneath the nearest table, revealing a dark roulette wheel made of galaxies. Each slot flickered with names — and one of them glowed brighter than the rest.
Rex Ward – Wildcard.
The Dealer's laughter echoed again.
"Let's make things interesting. Since our Wildcard refuses all assistance, the House will sponsor him directly. Effective immediately."
Lia's slate flickered.
[New Status: Sponsored by The House Itself]
[Effect: Every victory increases cosmic instability by +1%. Every loss doubles it.]
Rex blinked. "Wait—hold on. How's that fair?"
"Oh, it isn't," the Dealer said cheerfully. "But it'll be fun."
The casino roared with chaotic delight. Bets began to fly — literal cards of fate materializing midair, as gamblers across universes wagered on his lifespan, sanity, or which limb he'd lose first.
Lia grabbed his sleeve, pulling him toward a quieter corridor. "You don't understand — no one's ever been sponsored by the House directly. It's like… playing poker with a black hole."
Rex gave a half-grin. "So what you're saying is… I'm trending."
"Rex!"
He stopped, looking back at the glowing chaos behind him. The laughter hadn't stopped — it was growing, spreading through the cosmos like wildfire. Every world under the House's domain was watching the same message.
'The Wildcard Has Been Chosen.'
Rex exhaled slowly. "Then I guess it's showtime."
The Dealer's final whisper slid through the air, silk over steel.
"Welcome to the table, Rex. Let's see if the universe can keep up."
And somewhere, deep in the House's foundations, the odds tilted.