Recap: As Sahir left, the broker's screen flashed a note only he could see—HOUSE AUDIT SCHEDULED: 02:00.
Speakers: Sahir, Laleh, Iri, Jax, Observer, House.
Sahir didn't sleep. The station's clocks lied too often for him to trust them. He sat in the Copper Commons and listened to the hum of the drift generators, the pulse of time against metal. He watched gamblers trade minutes like cards, watched lifespans pile up in pots like coins.
He could feel the House's gaze. It wasn't a look. It was a pressure, a slow closing around his choices.
At 02:00, the audit began.
Two auditors arrived, their faces smooth and expressionless, their eyes a faint silver. They wore the House insignia: a black ring cut by a white line, the event horizon itself.
"Temporal residue check," one said. "Voluntary compliance reduces penalties."
Sahir nodded and held out his hands. The chip sat in his coat, warm as a heartbeat. He didn't reach for it. He couldn't.
***
They scanned him. A soft beam traced his outline, measuring the ghost left by the rewind. The scanners hummed longer than they should.
Cost logged: Residue spike recorded.
"Residue confirmed," the auditor said. "Origin unknown."
Sahir met their gaze. "I won a pot. That's all."
"Luck is not a defense."
They handed him a slip: PARADOX COUNT: 1. WARNING ISSUED.
The penalty was light. That was worse. Light meant attention, and attention meant the House was curious.
***
After they left, a young woman slid into the booth across from him. "You're new," she said, eyes sharp. "But you don't play like it."
Sahir had seen her at the Chrono Pot, trading memories like currency. He nodded.
"I'm Iri," she said. "You just got audited. You don't want another."
"Then I shouldn't rewind," Sahir said.
Cost logged: Residue spike recorded.
"You shouldn't be seen rewinding." She tapped the table. "There's a drift room on the lower decks. The time bleed there masks residue. The House doesn't like it, but it's not forbidden. Yet."
Cost logged: Residue spike recorded.
"What's the cost?"
***
"Everything costs. You pay in time to hide time."
Sahir considered it. He needed to keep the chip secret. He also needed to win. The contradiction ate at him like rust.
"Why tell me?" he asked.
Iri smiled. "Because I need you to win. And because I saw your bracelet. If you fall, you trigger a sweep. They'll audit the whole Commons."
Sahir exhaled. A mutual interest, then. "What's your stake?"
"My brother's debt. Different story. Same knife."
***
They sat in silence for a moment. The Commons roared around them, a low hum of wagers and whispered deals.
A ping in Sahir's vision: a public table opening. PARADOX DUEL — OPEN. ENTRY: 10 HOURS.
He couldn't afford it. He also couldn't ignore it. Paradox Duel was a fast way to build reputation. It was also a fast way to burn out.
Iri saw his glance. "That table's a trap," she said. "A Copper predator sits there. He farms desperate debtors."
"His name?"
"Jax. He smiles when you bleed."
***
Sahir took the warning. He needed a smaller risk. He scanned the board. DILATION ANTE — REOPEN. ENTRY: 6 HOURS. Less, but still meaningful.
He chose it. Another strategic decision. Another wager against the House Edge.
He moved through the rings again, now with the memory of the drift. This time he stayed in the middle ring longer, trusting the tick. He didn't rewind. He couldn't afford another residue hit. He won a smaller pot, four hours net.
Cost logged: Residue spike recorded.
He felt the bracelet loosen. His lien dropped to sixty-seven hours.
Iri watched him return. "You should have taken the duel," she said.
"I want to live," Sahir said.
***
She laughed, not unkindly. "No one here wants to live. We want to remember why we're dying."
The line hit him like a throwback to Laleh. He could see her face in the corner of his mind, a bright, stubborn memory that he refused to let fade. He anchored it there, locked.
A dealer approached. "Message for Sahir."
Sahir took the token. It was a sealed invite, Copper Commons only. The text was simple: PRIVATE TABLE. HIGH VARIANCE. HOUSE OBSERVER PRESENT.
He didn't have the luxury to decline. The House wanted to see how he played under observation.
He followed the dealer down a corridor that twisted into a smaller chamber. The table was empty except for one other player—a man with dark eyes and a calm, predatory stillness. Jax.
***
"Sit," Jax said, smiling. "Let's see how you handle risk exposure."
The dealer announced the game: BLIND HORIZON. Entry: 12 hours.
Sahir's bracelet tightened. He didn't have twelve. He'd have to borrow, pledge, or bluff.
Jax placed his ante without flinching. The pot shimmered.
The dealer looked at Sahir. "Pay or fold."
Sahir didn't fold. He slid a memory token forward, one he could afford to lose: the name of a street vendor from a city he no longer visited. It wasn't Laleh. It was safe.
***
The dealer accepted. "Memory ante accepted. Pot open."
Blind Horizon required predicting a future card order while blind to the current time. The only tool was your internal chrono and the station's drift. Rewind could help, but it left residue. Jax would bait him into using it.
Cost logged: Residue spike recorded.
Sahir steadied his breathing. He sensed Jax watching, not for tells, but for hesitation. He chose a sequence, committed it to the table.
Jax submitted his own.
The dealer revealed the order. Sahir was close. Jax was closer. Sahir lost the pot.
He felt the memory slip away, like a file erased. He knew it was gone not because he missed it, but because the space where it should have been was empty.
***
Jax leaned forward. "You play safe. That's why you'll lose."
Sahir met his gaze. "You play loud. That's why you'll get audited."
Jax's smile twitched. A tell.
Sahir stood, the loss bitter but manageable. He'd avoided a rewind. He'd avoided residue. He'd lost a small memory to gain a larger read.
Cost logged: Memory fragment lost.
Summary: Sahir gains ground but pays in control, with the House pressing harder each step.