The air between them thrummed like an invisible string being plucked.
Rex could feel the House watching, even here — like its gaze had found a way to slip through cracks in the Zero Table.
Lia was the first to speak. "It's adapting."
Her voice trembled. The swarm of cards that formed the House Echo shifted and folded, turning into a humanoid silhouette wearing a mask half-smiling, half-blank.
Rex took a step forward, rolling the coin between his fingers. "I'm guessing talking it out isn't an option."
The Echo tilted its head. Its voice was the Dealer's — only hollow, stripped of charm.
"Unauthorized sentiment detected. Initiating probability correction."
"Yeah," Rex muttered. "That's what I thought."
Cards snapped together, creating blades of glowing luck — jagged, beautiful, and lethal.
Lia's hands glowed with data-sigils. "We can't overpower it — it's a rule enforcer! The only way out is through a wager!"
Rex grinned. "Finally, something I'm good at."
[GAMBIT INITIATED]
Table: ZERO
Wager: Emotional Integrity vs Survival Continuity
Rex blinked. "Wait, what the hell does that mean?"
Lia's voice was soft but urgent. "It means if we lose, we stop feeling. We become… static. Just code."
He smirked. "Good thing I'm not great at losing."
The Echo's mask gleamed. > "Define your bet."
Rex flipped his coin once. "I bet I can make you hesitate."
Even the air seemed to freeze at the audacity.
The Echo tilted its head again, as if amused. > "Outcome: Impossible."
Rex shrugged. "Yeah, I get that a lot."
Then he looked at Lia — and his tone shifted.
"Hey, Lia."
Her eyes met his, glowing soft gold. "What are you—"
He leaned closer, voice low, confident, almost teasing. "Remember when you said you weren't supposed to feel?"
"…Yes."
"Then this bet's for you."
Before she could answer, the Echo attacked.
Blades of probability cut through the space where they'd stood an instant earlier — but Rex was faster, sliding across the chess tiles like a street magician flipping cards mid-fight.
He didn't fight with strength — he fought with timing.
Every movement a risk, every dodge a gamble.
The Echo slashed again — but hesitated.
Just slightly.
Enough for Lia to notice.
Her eyes widened. "Rex… you're winning."
"Of course I am," he said, grinning. "It's feeling something. Even code gets curious."
The Dealer's voice echoed faintly from nowhere and everywhere at once — low, amused, dangerous.
"Curiosity… the first sin of the House."
The Echo froze — and Rex flicked his coin one last time, striking it dead center.
The mask cracked. The cards shattered.
And just like that — silence.
When it was over, Lia fell to her knees, gasping as glowing data streamed from her chest.
Her projection flickered wildly, then stabilized — warm light settling into her skin.
"Rex…" she whispered. "You didn't just win the wager… you rewrote its rule."
He crouched beside her. "Guess I'm good at breaking things that weren't supposed to be broken."
She looked up, emotion clear in her voice now — no code, no restraint.
"You're… dangerous."
He grinned softly. "And you're getting better at being human."
Far above them, unseen in the grand casino halls, the Dealer leaned back on his throne of shifting cards, watching the data feed flicker.
"Oh, Wildcard… you've just gambled emotion against eternity.
Let's see what the odds make of love."