The bank clerk wore patience like armor. That was what Lucid noticed first the patience. The particular kind that came from dealing with difficult customers so often it became muscle memory.
"I am sorry sir. We apologize for the inconvenience. But there is no deposit registered in your name."
Lucid leaned forward. His hands pressed flat against the desk. "What the hell do you mean? This is the fifth time you have checked!"
The clerk maintained his smile. Professional.
Empty.
A smile that meant nothing and communicated everything about how this conversation would end.
'Robot,' Lucid thought. 'He is a damn robot pretending to be human.'
Two days had passed since the incident. Since the golden sky. Since the boy with yellow hair had walked to a guillotine and disappeared. Two days of Lucid trying to understand what had happened. Two days of nightmares about falling through rifts while Vale's golden eyes watched with satisfaction.
And now this. The queen's funds. The money she had promised. The financial backing for their mission. None of it existed.
"Fine." Lucid forced the word through clenched teeth. "I would like to make a withdrawal then."
The clerk's smile flickered. Just slightly. Enough to show he knew what was coming.
"Sir, your account balance is exactly zero point zero. There are no possessions of equal value registered in your name. I cannot process a withdrawal request."
The clerk recited the information while other customers turned around. Looked at Lucid being humiliated in front of everyone. Whispered to each other about the poor boy who thought he had money and was learning otherwise.
"Sir, I humbly ask that you return when you receive official notice from your sponsor. If you have not heard anything—" The clerk paused. Let the silence do its work. "Then it probably means Her Majesty has not acted yet."
"You—" Lucid's hands curled into fists.
He stood up. Kicked the chair from beneath him. The wood scraped across polished floor. Made a sound that cut through the quiet murmur of banking business.
Before he could even think about going over the desk, two guards grabbed him. Large men. Professional. They moved with efficiency that spoke of doing this regularly. Lifted him like he weighed nothing. Carried him toward the door while he struggled.
"Let me go! I am marked by the Transcendence! I am on official business for Queen Elara of Vex!"
The guards said nothing. Just carried him through the door. Down the steps. Into the dirty streets of Port Vexis.
They threw him. Not gently. Not carefully. Just released and let momentum do the rest.
Lucid hit the ground face first. Tasted dirt. Felt cobblestones scrape his palms. His chest struck hard enough to drive air from his lungs.
'I could have resisted eith my powers but i don't trust myself lately...'
He lay there for a moment. Face down. Breathing dirt. Tasting humiliation mixed with actual filth.
'This is my life now. Thrown out of banks. Betrayed by deities. Scammed by merchants. What is next? Getting robbed by children?'
Something pressed against his stomach. Paper. He lifted his head. Saw a poster partially stuck to his vest. Pulled it free.
A face stared back at him from crude printing. Yellow curls. Sharp eyes. Mischievous smile. The face was familiar. Too familiar.
The boy from the merchant district. The one who had sold knives. The one who had appeared in the golden place. The one who had walked to the guillotine.
Text ran below the image. Reward for information. Wanted for fraud. Multiple aliases. Last seen in the merchant district.
Lucid crumpled the poster. Put it in his mouth. Chewed. The paper tasted like dirt and ink and frustration. He spat it out. Gray pulp hit cobblestones.
Passersby walked around him. Gave him wide berth. The crazy boy lying in the street chewing wanted posters. Just another Port Vexis resident having a normal day.
"My patient."
The voice came from above. Cultured. Precise. Each word chosen with care.
Lucid looked up.
Jing Xiu stood over him. Black hair flowing loose today. No practical tie. Elegant robes that somehow stayed clean despite Port Vexis grime. Pale skin that looked like it had never seen direct sunlight.
"The ground is dirty. Why do you not get up?"
"Oh. It is you." Lucid stood slowly. Brushed dust from his clothes. Extended his hand for help that had not been offered.
Jing Xiu looked at the extended hand. At the dirt on Lucid's palm. At the general state of someone who had just been thrown from a bank and eaten a wanted poster.
"I prefer not touching dirt." He wore a patient smile. The same kind the bank clerk had worn. But different somehow. More genuine. Or maybe just better performed.
The comment passed through Lucid like cold water. He pulled his hand back. Wiped it on his pants. Made the dirt situation worse instead of better.
"What are you doing here?" Lucid asked.
"I could ask you the same question. Though I suspect the answer involves financial difficulties based on your current position when I arrived." Jing Xiu gestured at the bank behind them. "Let me guess. The queen's promised funds have not materialized."
"How did you know?"
"Because of rumours. All with the same complaint. Marks on their wrists. Missions from nobility. Promises of payment that mysteriously fail to appear."
Jing Xiu started walking. Did not invite Lucid to follow. Just walked. Lucid followed anyway because standing in the street eating wanted posters was not improving his situation.
They moved through Port Vexis mid-afternoon chaos. Merchants closing for rest. Drunks starting early. The particular lull between productive hours and evening entertainment.
"Your examination results are ready," Jing Xiu said. "I was coming to find you when I saw you performing your ground tasting ritual."
"I was not tasting the ground."
"No? What would you call it?"
"Being thrown from a bank and landing poorly."
"Ah. Much more dignified."
They turned down a side street. Quieter here. Less traffic. The buildings leaned together overhead. Created shadows even in afternoon light.
"The results show something interesting," Jing Xiu continued. "Your body operates on principles I have not encountered before. The hollowness I mentioned. It is not absence. It is more like space. Room for something to exist that currently does not."
"That sounds bad."
"Bad implies moral judgment. This is simply unusual. Your physiology suggests you are designed to host something. Or perhaps you already host something and it has created this space around itself."
'He knows. He must know. How much is he saying versus how much is he implying?'
They reached Jing Xiu's practice. The carved building. The Dao Dynasty architecture that stood out against Port Vexis chaos.
Jing Xiu opened the door. Gestured inside. "Come. I will show you the detailed findings. And perhaps we can discuss your recent experiences. I suspect you have encountered things that would interest me professionally."
Lucid hesitated. The last time he had trusted someone offering help he had ended up frozen mid-fall while Vale smiled and called him predictable.
But standing in the street was not solving anything. The queen had abandoned them. The funds did not exist. Arthur was out today gathering essential supplies. Ayame was back at the tavern doing whatever Ayame did when left alone.
And Lucid was dirty, broke, and haunted by memories of golden skies and guillotines.
"Fine," he said.
They entered. The interior was exactly as Lucid remembered.
Organized.
The particular precision of someone who believed disorder was a personal failing.
Jing Xiu moved to his desk. Retrieved papers. Set them out with careful placement.
"Your examination revealed three primary findings. First, the hollowness. Second, an unusual energy signature around your chest. Third, traces of what I can only describe as divine essence. Very faint. But present."
He looked up from the papers. Met Lucid's eyes.
"You have been in contact with a deity recently. Within the last week or... last two months. The signature is fresh."
Lucid's throat went dry. "What if I have?"
"Then I would be very interested in knowing which deity. And what transaction occurred. Because divine contact always involves transaction. Nothing is given freely at that level of existence."
"Why do you care?"
"Because I am a scholar. A practitioner of medicine and philosophy. And I have been studying the effects of the Transcendence on human physiology." Jing Xiu sat down. Gestured for Lucid to do the same. "The Grail's presence is awakening dormant forces. Deities that slept are waking. Domains that were closed are opening. And people like you are getting caught in the transition."
Lucid sat. The chair was more comfortable than it looked.
"I was in a Domain," he said. "Two days ago. Everything froze except me. There was a woman. Celeste. She made me enter a contract I did not understand. A boy appeared. Yellow hair. Golden eyes. He saved me by trading himself."
Jing Xiu leaned forward. His expression had changed. Interest replaced polite professionalism.
"Describe the Domain. Every detail you remember."
Lucid described it. The golden sky. The impossible tree. The binding contract. The scale that weighed nothing against a painting. Compound interest. Foresight. The guillotine.
Jing Xiu listened without interrupting. When Lucid finished he sat back. Steepled his fingers.
"You encountered the Domain of Mercyros. The deity of trade. Very few people can move within it. Those who do are either incredibly wealthy or operate on principles that transcend standard value measurement."
"The boy used compound interest and foresight. How does that work?"
"He bet on future value. On potential rather than present holdings. It is brilliant and insane in equal measure. Because if he cannot deliver on that promised future value, the debt compounds. Grows. Eventually consumes everything he is."
Jing Xiu stood. Moved to the window. Looked out at Port Vexis spreading below.
"The boy you describe sounds like someone who has been operating under crushing debt for a very long time. Someone who has learned to weaponize the very thing destroying him."
"Do you know who he is?"
"I have suspicions. But names have power. Especially in contexts involving divine contracts. I will not speak it here."
Lucid joined him at the window. Looked out at the city that had become more complicated every day he spent in it.
"What do I do now? The queen abandoned us. We have no funds. No support. Just a mission to stop cultists and find a relic everyone wants."
Jing Xiu smiled. Small. Knowing.
"You do what everyone in Port Vexis does. You survive. You adapt. You find value where others see nothing. And you avoid making contracts with deities unless you are very certain you understand the terms."
He turned from the window. Met Lucid's eyes.
"Or you could accept my offer. Work with me. Let me study your unique physiology. In exchange I provide medical care, shelter when needed, and information about the forces moving through this city."
"That sounds like a contract."
"It is. But mine has clear terms. Written down. Reviewed by both parties. No golden skies. No guillotines. Just practical exchange between two people who can help each other."
Lucid considered. His first instinct was to refuse. To maintain independence. To not owe anyone anything.
He set that instinct aside.
"What would you want to study?"
"The hollowness. The divine signature. The way your body responds to fate essence. Nothing invasive. Just observation. Measurement. Understanding."
"And in exchange?"
"Everything I mentioned. Plus I will help you find the boy with yellow hair. Because I suspect you need answers he can provide. And I need data he represents."
Lucid extended his hand. Still dirty. Still covered in street grime and crushed poster pulp.
Jing Xiu looked at it. At the dirt. At the symbolic gesture.
Then he reached out. Shook it firmly. His pale hand against Lucid's filthy one.
"We have an agreement then. Welcome to my practice, Lucid. Try not to bleed on anything expensive."