The first thing I smell is rot. It is a sharp, metallic smell, like old copper coins left in a puddle of dirty water. My eyes snap open, but the world is a blur. Above me, there is no sun.
There is only a thick, grey fog that looks like smoke from a factory. Huge neon signs hang in the air, glowing with bright pink and blue lights. They are so high up they look like tiny stars, but they aren't stars. They are ads for things I can't afford.
I try to move my arms, but they feel like lead. I am lying on a pile of jagged metal. It's "Scrap Gold"—the leftover junk from the rich people who live in the high towers. These pieces of metal are cold and sharp. One of them is digging into my back, right between my shoulder blades. It hurts, but the pain is the only thing telling me I am still alive.
I remember dying. I remember the sound of police sirens and the screech of tires on a wet road. I was Lucius, the best con artist in the city. I lived my life telling lies to people who had too much money. But now, I am somewhere else. My hands are thinner. My skin is covered in grey grease.
Then, a bright red box pops up in front of my eyes. It isn't a screen. It is inside my head.
[WARNING: SOUL-DEBT DETECTED]
[SUBJECT: LUCIUS]
[TOTAL DEBT: 1,000,000,000,000 FATE CREDITS]
[STATUS: PENNILESS TRASH]
A trillion. I stare at the zeros until my eyes ache. In my old life, a million was a lot. A billion was a dream. A trillion is a joke. It's a number so big that it means I don't own my own life anymore.
"Great," I whisper. My voice is scratchy, like I've been screaming for days. "I'm reborn, and I'm already bankrupt."
I hear a sound nearby. Clack. Clack. Clack.
It sounds like metal hitting metal. I turn my head slowly. Coming over a hill of broken glass is a machine. It looks like a giant spider made of rusted steel. It has three blue eyes that spin around, looking for something. It is a Debt-Collector Drone.
In this world, if you have no money, these machines find you. They don't put you in jail. They take your body apart and sell your organs to pay the interest on your debt.
The blue light from the drone's eyes sweeps across the trash. It's getting closer. My heart starts to beat fast. I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck, mixing with the grease on my skin. I have no weapon. I have no money. I have nothing but my brain.
Suddenly, another box appears in my vision. This one is gold.
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED: THE GREAT PRETENDER]
[SKILL LOADED: GILDED VENEER - LEVEL 1]
[EFFECT: MAKE THE WORLD SEE YOU AS RICH]
[COST: 5 STAMINA PER MINUTE]
I look at my stamina bar. It says 40/100. I don't have much time. If I stay a "trash-man," the spider will kill me. I have to do what I do best. I have to tell a lie.
I close my eyes. I picture myself not as a scavenger, but as a King. I imagine I am wearing the finest silk. I imagine my skin is clean and my hair is perfect. I imagine that I own this entire pile of junk.
Whoosh.
I feel a strange warmth spread over my body. I look down at my chest. My dirty, ripped shirt is gone. In its place is a suit made of deep black silk. It shines in the dim light. My boots are no longer broken; they are polished leather that looks like it cost a fortune. Even the smell of rot goes away, replaced by the faint scent of expensive wood and spice.
The drone stops right in front of me. Its blue eyes zoom in on my face.
I don't run. I don't hide. I stand up slowly, even though my legs are shaking. I look at the drone with a bored expression. I pretend that this machine is nothing more than a bug.
"Are you lost?" I ask. My voice is smooth now. It sounds like money.
The drone's eyes flicker. It is confused. Its sensors tell it there is a massive debt here, but its cameras see a man who looks like a High-Tier Lord. To a machine, someone who looks this rich cannot be the person who owes a trillion credits. It thinks there must be a mistake in the system.
The drone makes a whirring sound. It waits for a moment, then it lowers its head. It turns around and skitters away, looking for a "real" poor person to hunt.
I wait until the drone is gone before I collapse back onto the metal.
[STAMINA: 30/100]
[DIGNITY RATING: 15/100 (TEMPORARY)]
The silk suit flickers. For a second, I can see my dirty rags underneath. The lie is hard to keep up. It takes a lot of energy to pretend to be someone you aren't.
I look at the sky again. The neon signs are still glowing. Somewhere up there, people are eating real food and drinking clean water. Down here, there is only hunger.
My stomach growls. It feels like a knot is being tied inside me. I look around and see a small puddle of water near a rusted pipe. It's green and has oil floating on top. It looks like poison.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: YOUR DIGNITY RATING WILL DROP IF YOU DRINK FROM THE MUD.]
[IF DIGNITY HITS 0, THE GILDED VENEER WILL FAIL FOREVER.]
"I can't even drink water without losing my status?" I mutter.
This world is cruel. It doesn't just want my money; it wants my pride. If I act like a beggar, I will become a beggar. And in this world, beggars are dead.
I stand up and brush the "dust" off my fake silk suit. I need to find a person. A real person. Someone with a wallet I can empty. Someone who will believe my lie long enough for me to get a real meal.
I start walking. Every step is a struggle. The pile of scrap is like a mountain. I climb over broken engines and piles of wires. After an hour, I see something. A small light coming from a metal shack at the edge of the heap.
There is a man sitting outside. He is wearing a heavy coat and holding a scanning device. He looks like a merchant—someone who buys the junk that the scavengers find.
This is my first "mark."
If I can convince him I am a nobleman who just happened to fall into the trash, I might survive the night. If I fail, the "Gilded Veneer" will vanish, and I will be back in the red.
I take a deep breath. I check my stamina. 20/100.
"Step one," I say to myself. "Make him think I'm the one doing him a favor."
I walk toward the light, my head held high, my fake suit shimmering in the dark. The slow burn has started. I am a ghost with a trillion-dollar debt, and I am about to sell the moon to a man who lives in the mud.